Page 46 of Puck King
“Me too.” Alison smiled. “But that would bring out the wrath of Everleigh.”
For not knowing my sister well, Alison seemed to have a pretty solid grip on her personality. “Yep.” I chuckled. “Everleigh can be a hurricane.”
Alison took a sip of her coffee. “A category five.”
I almost choked on my cold pizza. “But everything she does is to protect our family.”
“I’m evidence of that.” Alison gave a light shrug. “And, even if you’re too scared to tell me, I can see that there’s some good to that sister of yours.”
Everleigh had been all business with Alison, to the point of being cold. For Alison to see that there was a kind side to my sister showed more about the woman whose legs were tangled with mine, than it did about Everleigh.
“There is some good.” I nodded. It was time to be more open with Alison about everything, including my sister. “She doesn’t like anyone to know about it though, so you didn’t hear it from me.”
Alison made a zipper motion across her lips. “I won’t say a thing.” Then she smirked. “I don’t think that anyone would believe me anyway.”
We hadn’t gotten much sleep, but the caffeine had started to kick in. I took one of Alison’s feet in my hands. She was wearing a pair of my wool socks, with my blue team sweats and a matching t-shirt. “Everleigh will do something nice, but then she’ll try to mask it with something not nice.”
Alison laughed. “Give me an example...” she stretched her arms above her head and pointed her toes, “of this nice – not nice – push and pull.”
“Where do I start?” One of the most recent examples involved Alison, and even though it had backfired on Everleigh, I didn’t want to bring it up. Everleigh had decided to fix my public image by setting me up with a good woman.
That was nice.
But Everleigh had also deliberately chosen a woman who was not my type, to antagonize me.
Not nice.
Alison smoothed the baggy track pants over her thighs with her hands. “You can say it.” She smiled. “Everleigh is saving your career. But instead of hiring some underwear model to be your fake girlfriend, she hired a woman who is starting to get wrinkles.”
I yanked Alison by the ankles, then grabbed her hand to pull her so that she was face to face with me. “I can’t wait to see the look on my sister’s face when she realizes her plan backfired.” Alison’s eyes were locked with mine. “And Alison…I love your crow’s feet.”
She blushed, and I caught the sparkle in her eye before she looked down. I raised her chin so that we were looking at each other again. “Alison. This might sound crazy, but there are already things I love about you.”
“Stop.” She rested her hand on my chest.
“Don’t worry.” I held her hand in place. “I’m not saying ‘I love you’.” I would have, but it seemed insane. “I love your crow’s feet – it means you laugh; I love how strong and smart you are; I love that you ate pizza in bed with me last night.” I cupped her cheek. “And I love that your face actually moves.”
She held onto my wrist. “I love your dedication to the game. You’re thoughtful, Colton. When I first met you, I thought you were a…”
“An asshole?”
“Yeah.” Her cheeks reddened.
“I was. And I’m going to regret that every day of my life.”
“Don’t.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t have accepted this ‘job’,” she used air quotes, “if I knew that I would fall for you.” She hesitated and seemed to choose her next words carefully. “Especially after what I went through with my ex-husband.”
Alison knew all about my dirty laundry, but I knew nothing about hers. “Alison, why did you accept the job? It seems so out of character, now that I know you.” During that first meeting I’d sworn I saw dollar signs in Alison’s eyes. I’d thought that she was some kind of gold digger, taking advantage of the situation – taking advantage of me.
“Oh—”
My phone rang and I silenced it without looking to see who was calling. “Go on,” I urged, ignoring the call.
“You should get that.” She stood and took the plates from the coffee table into the kitchen.
My phone continued to ring, and the persistence could only mean one person. Alison was running the water in the kitchen sink to wash our dishes, so I picked it up. But the name on the screen surprised me. It wasn’t my boss, aka my sister. It was my lake neighbor, Jake McManus.
Alison returned and brushed her hands together. “Was that Everleigh? Is she okay with using the photos we took instead of professionally staged shots?”
