Page 20 of Salvation

I shrug, feigning indifference. “You won’t find a pity party here. I need help cleaning up a house. And you seem young and able.”

Just to lighten the mood, I waggle my eyebrows and say, “Or maybe I just need someone to scare off all the ghosts living in my house.” I lower my voice and do my best Beetlejuice imitation, “You get a free demon possession with every exorcism. Can’t beat that, now can ya?”

Then, she shocks me when she laughs, tipping her head back andbellowing. My chest squeezes at the sight.

“Oh, you’re weird.” She adds, still laughing.

I laugh with her because I know my Beetlejuice voice is always spot on. One of my many talents. “I just bought the house. So, maybe some yard and interior work. I’ll pay you, of course. And it’ll be whenever you’re free, really.”

She’s not full-on smiling anymore, but I see her mood is much improved from when I first saw her. “I’m free like all the time. I’ll just have to ask my parents…but I don’t see why they’d mind.”

“Cool. I can always talk to them, too. Now, do you think they’ll still use whip cream to make a smiley face on my pancakes? ” She shakes her head, clearly done with my antics, but she’s much more talkative and excited when we sit down for lunch. For the first time in a while, I feel at ease and happy about forming a new friendship, even if it’s with a broody teenager. Elain even gets a smiley face on her pancakes, too.

Chapter 19

Wesley

“What do you need?” I suppress a sigh as my brother walks right in, like he owns the place. The door shuts behind him with a click as he waves a couple of envelopes around in his hand.

“Some of your mail got delivered to the ranch.”

“How do they keep messing that up?” I grumble as I set down my mug and newspaper, standing from my chair at the dining table. He throws the mail onto the wooden table and shrugs. Then he points at the paper I left next to my coffee.

“Who still reads the newspaper? Old ass.”

“Whatever.” I huff, picking up the mail and sorting through the few pieces. “You probably still hide Playboy magazines underneath your bed.”

“I heard you terrorized Blake about moving in next door.” I stop shuffling through the envelopes to look at him.Thisagain? The way he so quickly redirects the conversation almost makesme laugh, but the mention of Blake is enough to sober me up. He probably does hide magazines under his mattress, but that’s none of my business. “I didn’tterrorizeher.”

He crosses his arms and leans against my table. “Why does it matter if she’s there, Wesley?”

“This isn’t a problem for you to fix, Wyatt.” I bite back, hoping he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“I’m just saying, man, you guys aren’t kids anymore. You’re adults. Do something nice, welcome her to the neighborhood, but don’t scare her off because you’re holding some grudge against something she did as a teenager.”

It’s more complicated than that, but I’m not going to explain that to him. He is right in the sense that it’s not fair for me to scare her off just because I’m not ecstatic about her being here. I know how much Elise has wanted her back home. Hell, how mucheveryonehas wanted her home. My mom and Wyatt included. I can’t take that from them. So, I just say, “I’m not going to scare her off.”

“If that’s the case, come up with a way to apologize for bombarding her the other day.”

Apologize? Apologize forwhat?I don’t have anything to apologize for. I suppose I can ‘welcome her to the neighborhood’as Wyatt suggested.If that’s what it takes to smooth the waters and get the latter off my back about it.

“Just think about it, alright?” I wave him off and don’t say bye as he leaves. I don’t know much about this new Blake, but I do know she has a weakness for my mom’s cookie recipe. Maybe I’ll start there.

Chapter 20

Blake

“This place is a dump.”

Elain and I stand in the middle of the living room of the new house, a couple of boxes behind us. Today, we’re cleaning and throwing away anything that’s not staying. Her parents gave her the go-ahead, seemingly happy to have her take on a job that doesn’t take money out oftheirpocket. So, we got started on the house right away. Scratching the back of my neck, I mutter, “I didn’t think it wasthatbad.”

She looks at me, disbelief on her face. “It looks like it was built in the 18thcentury.” Then, she wrinkled her nose. “Smells like it, too.”

“She’s right. It’s a dump.” Wesley’s tall, broad frame comes into view, and Elain and I both jump at the deep voice. I try my best to not ogle him like some love-sick teenager. But I fail miserably. He’s wearing dark blue jeans that hug his thick thighsand cowboy boots that are all worn and dirty. Nothing like the pretty and polished ones I’ve seen on the men in New York. His black t-shirt makes his tattoos pop against his sun-kissed skin, and I have the sudden urge to trail my fingertips across every single one of them.

But mainly my attention is caught on the fuckingbackwards ball capthat has no business lookingthatgood on him. I cleared my throat, praying that my wandering eyes went unnoticed. “What are you doing here?”

I don’t think they do because he smirks.Smirks.

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