5
CHASE
“You’re doing what now?”My sister glares at me from the doorway of the spare room in her duplex. I’ve been holed up in this tiny space since being released from the hospital after my accident. The longest five months of my life.
I continue to pull my clothes out of the dresser in the corner of the postage-stamp-sized bedroom, tossing them in the duffel bag on the bed. “How many different ways can I explain it, Ada?”
“You can’t shack up with your best friend’s wife,” she tells me in no uncertain terms.
I mutter a curse as the drawer I slam shut clips my finger. “For fuck’s sake, we’re not shacking up. I’m helping with the twins and her flower business while Linda’s out of the country.” I turn and face her. “I figured you’d be happy to get rid of me.”
“First, watch your language,” she says with a tilt of her chin. “Second, as a matter of fact, youarecramping my style. I met a guy the other night and?—”
I clamp my hands over my ears. “La la la la la la.”
“Dude. I’m an adult.”
“You’re my baby sister. I don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“Why are you doing this?” Her voice becomes more serious as she tugs on the end of her honey-colored braid. Her eyes are the same pale gray as mine, but infinitely gentler. My sister can light up a room with a smile that comes as naturally to her as breathing, which is probably why she’s such a popular elementary school teacher. “You don’t like kids.”
“I like them better than chicken pox.”
“They compare favorably to a communicable disease. A rousing endorsement.”
“You know I have a debt to repay. I don’t like that hanging over my head.”
“You’re sure this is the right way to go about it?”
“It’s the only way.”
“Molly McAllister’s a sweetheart, Chase. She volunteers for every class party and school fundraiser. She’s good at all of it—from the decorating cupcakes to her flower arrangements. You’d think Martha Stewart was her grandmother.”
I blink. “What the hell does that mean?”
“She makes things beautiful.”
“What does that have to do with me? She sprained her ankle, not her fingers. If she wants to decorate cupcakes, more power to her. I’m there to drive her kids around and help her take care of the flower farm. Cupcakes aren’t in the job description.” I could certainly think of some creative uses for icing where Molly is concerned.
“You don’t like her.”
I zip up the duffel and turn to face my little sister. Thank god she isn’t a mind reader because that last thought definitely wouldn’t fall under the heading of Ada approved. “First you accuse me of shacking up, which I’m not. I’ll be staying in the trailer and coming back here or over to Ray’s to shower, shave, and?—”
“Use the Poo-Pourri spray,” she reminds me.
“I’ve been using the Poo-Pourri, Ada. Your crapper smells likea damn field of lavender. The point is, I’m not playing house with Molly,andI never said I didn’t like her.”
“You made it clear without words.”
I hope Ada takes my low growl as a hint. I’m sure as hell not admitting to my far-too-nosey sister that my opinion of Molly has done a complete one-eighty in the span of a day.
It’s better if everyone, Molly included, keeps believing I don’t think much of the sweet widow with a soft smile and sad eyes. Unlike Teddy, damsels in distress never did it for me. But Molly has made it clear she’s not a woman who needs saving. I not only believe her, I like her more because of it.
“This isn’t right,” my sister insists, tapping her booted foot against the hardwood floor. “You haven’t been right since the accident, Chase. Watching that bull?—”
“I know what happened.” I sigh and hang my head. “Hell, half of Skylark saw Black Tornado trample me.”
“Half the town wasn’t at the hospital. It was me who spent hours outside the ICU. They weren’t sure if you were going to make it. And later, no one could guarantee you would walk again.”