Page 33 of Hand Picked
“No, it’s fine,” I said, reaching for the phone and noticing it was a video call from his mom. I was grateful for the distraction. “I’ll grab it.”
“Wait—” Luke started to say, but I’d already slid my finger to accept.
“Oh my gosh, Lukey! FaceTime actually worked! And you… Oh. You’re not Luke.”
“No, ma’am,” I agreed, smiling at her kind face. She had Luke’s eyes and the same little crease Luke had on his nose that deepened when he got flustered.
“But youarea tall drink of gorgeous,” she said with a grin. “What might your name be?”
“Er. I’m…” I glanced over at Luke to see what he wanted me to say, when I noticed he had the bottom of the curtain wrapped around his groin andabsolutely nothing else on.
Suddenly, it was broiling hot in the tiny trailer.
I blinked at him, forgetting for a long, embarrassing moment that his mother was waiting for my answer. When she cleared her throat, I snapped back to attention. “I’m…Webb Sunday?” I said, squeaking it out like a question. “Webb Sunday. Luke’s neighbor.”
“Oh, yes! Webb! I’m so excited that I finally get to meet one of you boys! I’ve heard so much about you and your brothers.”
I glanced over at Luke in surprise. He’d mentioned me to his mom? Me?
Luke groaned and ducked back behind the curtain to put some clothes on. When he emerged again, I noticed he hadn’t bothered with a shirt.
As in, he was shirtless. He didn’t have a shirt on. And also… I could see his bare chest… complete withnipple rings.
Who the fuck would’ve thought that Luke Williams would be hiding piercings under his baggy sweater vests? Not me. But now I was having a hard time thinking of anything else.
Maybe he’d turned the heat on too high when we’d first come in, or maybe Ben Pond’s stupid trailer’s stupid heat was stupid broken. Either way, I was sweating.
Luke grabbed the phone out of my hand. “Mom! Hey!” he said breathlessly. “How are—”
His mom’s voice snapped me out of my eyeballs’ obsession with his bare skin.
“Luke Guilford Williams. Are younaked?”
ChapterNine
LUKE
Was it possible to actually die of mortification? If so, I was enjoying my final moments, becauseholy shoot.In my whole life, I’d never felt as awkward and back-footed as I did with Webb Sunday.
I was used to being the person who took care of things—of my mom, of myself. I was used to being the authority figure in a room full of kids. But when Webb was in the vicinity, I seemed to morph into a bumbling fool, and I had only my own stupid, inconvenient attraction to blame.
“No, Mom! Of course not. I just… fell in a snowbank and got wet. Wow, you would notbelievethis weather we are having here—”
My mother would not be distracted. “You weren’t doing anything dangerous, were you?”
“Me? Dangerous?Pfft.” I forced a laugh and shot a hard glance at Webb, a warning to keep his mouth shut. “Webb and I were just… playing in the snow.”
He lifted an eyebrow, and I blushed even harder than I’d already been blushing.
“Awww. That’s so sweet! Thank you so much for taking care of my boy, Webb,” she called. “You and your family have been so kind to adopt my Lukey!”
“Adopt?” Webb repeated in a voice too low for her to hear.
Mother trucker.I couldn’t make myself look at Webb. “Mom, please—”
“Hush, Lukey, let me talk to Webb. I worry, you know, Webb?” she said breathlessly. “It’s so wonderful that he won his beautiful house and all that land, but I worried that he might not be happy. Luke’s always been shy except, as I’m sure you can imagine, when he’s around kids—” She sucked in an unsteady breath.
“Mom, seriously. Webb gets it. You don’t need to—”
