Page 61 of Deadly Little Scandals
The next second seemed to stretch into an eternity, and then a man appeared at Uncle J.D.’s side. I recognized him as Boone’s father—one of the four men I’d once thought might be mine.
“J.D.,” Thomas Mason said lowly. “You should go.”
Lily’s father looked past his old friend to where Aunt Olivia was standing, Julia Ames beside her, and Charlotte in front.
“So this is how it’s going to be?” J.D. asked.
The only answer he—or those of us watching—got were the same words, repeated. “You should go.”
his is me crouching. This is me standing. This is me realizing how deep this hole is.”
“Do you have to narrateeverythingyou’re doing?”
“This is me trying to give myself a boost…Oof!”
“Sadie-Grace.”
“I’m sorry! It’s just really hard to give yourself a boost.”
ou haven’t talked about Ana in a while. Or her baby.” Nick trailed his thumb across my jawline. “Or the Lady of the Lake.”
We were at his place—an aging, single-bedroom houseboat he’d acquired alongside The Big Bang. This was my third time here in two and a half weeks.
I was starting to get comfortable.
“I didn’t think we were the kind of friends who talked.” To drive home the point—to myself as much as to him—I brought my lips to his. Kissing Nick wasn’tcomfortable. It wasn’tniceoreasy.
Each moment of contact was rough and raw and real in a way that should have sent me running. It hurt in all the right ways—more, even, when his touch was light and gentle.
“Right,” Nick said, pulling back from the kiss just far enough to speak, his lips still brushing featherlight over my own. “We don’t talk. You escort me where I need to go, and we…”
“Count to seven?” I suggested.
Thinking, flirting, getting physical—as long as I could sound as sardonic as he did every time he opened his mouth, I knew I’d manage to stay on the right side of the line.
He bared his teeth in a shark’s smile, then brushed his lips against my neck, right where he could have placed his fingers to feel my pulse. “You could,” he murmured. “Talk to me, the way you did on Fourth of July.” His teeth nipped lightly at my skin.
I thought back to Fourth of July. The way he’d stayed with Lily and me after that ugly business with Ana and J.D. The way he and I had snuck back to the dock that night. The fireworks.
One in particular, courtesy of Campbell’s challenge, had exploded in the twin shapes of a snake and a rose, just as Nick had buried his hands in my hair, tightened his grip.
And counted to seven.
I’d spent my birthday this past week much the same way—minus the literal fireworks and plus a few figurative ones.
“Since when do you want to hear about the lives of the rich and scandalous?” I asked him. I forced myself to roll onto my back and sat up. After a moment, I stood. It was better this way. Safer, even if my body objected every time I pulled back. “Besides,” I said, unable to keep my eyes from drinking in the sight of his bare chest, my fingers from itching to touch him, “there’s not much to tell.”
Lily and I hadn’t heard anything from Uncle J.D. or Ana. There’d been no more impromptu visits from my mom. No blowups between her and Aunt Olivia. Nothing from Campbell’s “friend” at the sheriff’s department.
Not a word from Victoria and the White Gloves.
Even Greer seemed to be just biding her time as her “due date” approached.
“Am I allowed to ask how Lily is doing?” Nick asked me, getting out of bed himself. I knew him well enough to know that his tone when he saidallowedwas meant to needle me, but I also knew that he had a soft spot—an inexplicable one—for Lily.
Don’t stare at him. Don’t get back in that bed.Knowing he’d follow, I walked up the stairs from the cabin out onto the boat’s deck. “Lily is…” I was debating the answer to his question when I saw someone sunbathing on the front of Nick’s boat. “Here.”
Since the Fourth of July, Lily’s behavior hadn’t raised any red flags. She hadn’t punched any walls. She hadn’t complained of any more headaches. But I had been unable to shake the feeling that she was a time bomb, ready to explode.
