Page 56 of Fool Me

“I don’t have any attachment to my truck other than for transportation.”

“How are you going to get to work tomorrow?”

I close the tailgate, making Echo jump up from his spot at my feet and lead Harlowe around the side of my truck. It only takes a second for me to grab the packed gym bag out of the back and hold it up between us.

“I always keep a gym bag in here with a change of clothes. It makes it easier to get to the gym when I need to, and it means I can run home in the morning before I have to walk over to the clinic.”

“So prepared. That’s oddly hot.”

“Thanks?”

She snorts. “That was sincere. Flashy and unreliable are overrated. Give me steady strength, give me understatedconfidence. That’s what I want in my friends . . . and, you know . . . whatever else.” She presses her keys into my hand.

And whatever else. Does she even realize she said that?

“How’s your head?” I ask, observing her carefully, but find nothing concerning.

“Why? You think I’ve lost it?” She smirks.

“Just checking.” I drop my eyes to the keys, finding a mini tie-dye butt plug attached to the key ring. “On second thought . . .”

Soft laughter causes her to flinch. “A gag gift from the girls. We did an exchange—bought absurd key chains. Personally, I think mine is the best. Tessa’s says, ‘I have pubic lice.’ Sloane’s is a homemade version of one of those huge gas station bathroom key rings. She can’t even put it in her purse. Briar’s looks like a real shrimp, which doesn’t sound bad, but?—”

“Denver’s allergic to shellfish.”

“Yeah. It’s given him so many jump scares, I’m surprised it hasn’t had a mysterious accident.”

“And you got a pretty little plug.”

Her face flushes. “At least it’s easy to hide.” She reaches out and closes my fist around it. “Fits right in the palm of my hand.”

I hum because I don’t trust myself to speak. Dropping the brightly colored silicone from my palm, I slip the key into the ignition.

“Have you called Denver yet?” She leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes.

I should let her rest, but I doubt her stubborn ass will quit until I talk to her about this. So, I do that next best thing and very quietly tell her what she wants to know.

“We’re grabbing a drink tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow is horseshoe night.”

“Excuse me?” My gaze comes off the road for a second to check on her.

To her credit, she relaxes into the seat and pretends to rest while she grills me. “At the farm, on Mondays, the guys meet for horseshoes.”

But her short-stilted sentences only confuse me. “The farm? His uncle’s farm? Like the one next door to me.”

One eye pops open and she turns her toward me. “Wait, you really don’t know?”

I give her a dumbfounded look.

“Damn, when you cut someone off, you fully commit.”

“I left it all behind,” I say through gritted teeth. But I’m not annoyed with her, I’m annoyed with myself for all I let Canyon take from me. I was too young and too angry. Now, I can see that it cost me more than I ever planned.

“Deacon Kennedy had a stroke about five years ago. It was before I lived here, but Denver and Briar took over the farm after he was moved into a long-term care facility.”

“He’s been right next door this whole time . . . And Denver’s uncle?”

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