Page 46 of The Pretenders of Copper County
I snorted, simultaneously charmed and turned on. At this point, I wasn’t sure Chris could do anything I didn’t find attractive.
The thought was enough to make my laughter die. “Not a criminal, a typical teenager,” I said shortly. “Now, eat up andlet’s go.”
Chris chewed his bagel obediently, and for a second, I allowed myself to think that the conversation was done and I could escape without further distracting thoughts about my protectee.
Silly me.
“Did you have a teen hangout spot when you were growing up?” Chris asked abruptly.
Confused by the topic shift, I shrugged. “Sure. There’s a little clearing in the woods behind the Apple of My Eye—you know, the inn right off the main road in the Hollow? We called it the Grove because it was in the trees, and we had no imagination whatsoever. Why?”
“Just curious. I’ve never been to a place like that. I kinda missed out on that part of being a teenager.” Chris leaned toward me, doe eyes gleaming. “What sorts of things did you do there? Secret rituals? Gambling? Lovemaking?Duels?”
If he’d been one whit less sincere, I might have laughed. “No secret rituals, unless you count standing around drinking stale beer in the freezing cold. But I guess occasionally we…”
A hazy memory floated through my brain of Jonas Pilkey’s cousin Seth—pretty, shy, inexperienced Seth—who’d been visiting the Hollow the summer I turned sixteen, giving me my first blowjob. Jonas had punched me in the mouth afterward—for his cousin’s honor, maybe? Who remembered?—but I’d still thought it was worth it because I’d finally understood what my dick was for.
“Occasionally?” Chris prompted.
I looked over at him, easily as shy and inexperienced as Seth but a billion times prettier.
The last thing I needed was to discuss blowjobs with him. As annoyed as I was at havingto fix up these cabins, I recognized we needed something to keep us busy and away from other… activities.
“Nothing,” I mumbled. “We’re burning daylight. You gonna eat that bagel or shred it for compost?”
His face fell a bit, but he nodded and pushed his plate onto the counter. “I’m not hungry. Let’s get started.”
We walked outside, past the fire pit and across the path that cut through the grassy field at the center of the property. Chris trailed his hand over the tall stalks of grass that bordered the path, which came up to his thighs in some spots.
I bumped my arm into his. “You’re still working on Cabin 3, right?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” Chris perked up. “I should finish scraping and sanding the trim around the windows this morning. Later, I’m going to work on the section of the ceiling that needs to be replaced. And when I’m done with that, maybe I’ll go down to the lake for a bit. I bet it’s gorgeous in the sunshine.”
I hated the idea of him having to do this work. The poor guy had been yanked out of his life, sent on the run, and now he was scraping rotten wood for no pay. But I had to remind myself this cover story was for his protection, and this work was critical to the cover story.
“Don’t work too hard, okay? The renovations are only our cover story, not an actual job.” I’d had to remindmyselfof that several times this week. It was unexpectedly satisfying to see the cabins shaping up and tempting to want to take on larger jobs. Jobs I might not be here long enough to finish.
“Oh, and don’t go in the water,” I added. “It’s cold. Like, hypothermia cold. I waded in just a few feet yesterday, butthe lake bed drops away very quickly, which means it doesn’t get warm, even close to the shore?—”
He sighed. “You told me already. I wasn’t planning to swim.”
“Good,” I said gruffly. “Hey, call me when you’re ready to do the ceiling. I’ll give you a hand.”
His eyes flicked up to me. “Why? I can do it. I’m pretty good at repairing and repainting ceilings, too.”
My lips twitched. “Do I even want to know how you obtainedthatskill?”
“I suppose you could ask Van about the Ale-pocalypse…” He hesitated. “Actually, on second thought, please don’t.”
Once again, I found myself fighting not to laugh. Had I ever been this amused this close to sunrise? If so, I couldn’t remember.
“Come get me when you’re ready,” I reminded him as the paths to the cabins split.
Chris set his jaw, looking distinctly unhappy. “If you needmyhelp with the roof, just yell.” Without another word, he turned right toward the lake and Cabin 3.
For half a minute, I imagined Chris putting his foot through a roof again, only this time getting truly hurt. The idea made me shiver despite the warm sunshine.
“Not gonna happen,” I muttered as I turned left and headed deeper into the woods near Cabin 7, where I’d left Watt’s ladder and a bunch of borrowed tools.
