Page 76 of Loverboy
“Because we can’t afford any more bad luck, okay? Just humor me.”
“Fine.” She counts out a stack of twenties. “Just as soon as my pie is out of the oven.”
“If you want to know the truth, this whole thing is just a ruse so I can get a piece of chocolate pecan later.”
“Congratulations, then. I guess it worked.” She gives me a glare and returns to counting the drawer.
23
Posy
Gunnar Scott is sleepingon my sofa.
Or at least he will be, if Ginny ever leaves my room.
We all had a very pleasant dinner together. Aaron and Gunnar made equivalent noises of delight over the pie. “Some kids don’t like nuts in their food,” Aaron had said. “But I think that’s silly.”
“You’re a hundred percent right,” Gunnar had said. “I don’t know what people have against nuts.”
“Were you a picky eater as a child, Gunnar?” Ginny had asked, a sneaky smile on her face.
“Not at all,” he’d said, setting his fork on his empty plate. “I’ve always thought more is more. Pretty much about everything.”
Then he’d looked me right in the eye and winked.
“Posy was a picky eater,” Ginny said.
“I was not!” I don’t know why I’d been so quick to defend myself.
“You didn’t eat mussels.”
“They’re chewy,” I’d said while trying not to gag.
“Or oysters. I’ll bet Gunnar likes oysters. I wonder if he likesclams.”
Sometimes sisters are the worst. Mine has no boundaries whatsoever.
“I like food, period,” Gunnar had said, watching Aaron eat his slice of pie. “There wasn’t always enough.”
“Why?” my nephew had asked, raising his head to stare at our guest.
That’s when Gunnar seemed to regret that small confidence. “Eh, I don’t remember. What’s your favorite food, anyway?”
He was really nice to my nephew. But when Ginny took Aaron downstairs to get him ready for bed, I was relieved.
She came back, though, and now she’s sitting on my bed, interrogating me. “How long is he going to sleep on our couch?” she asks. “I hope it lasts a week.”
“Aweek?” I whisper sharply. “Why?”
“Eye candy,” she whispers back. “Why won’t you tell me all the details from last night?” She’d tried all morning to get a story out of me, but the pie kitchen isn’t very private. I don’t want to talk about it, anyway. I’m confused. That man lied to me, and I had wild monkey sex with him anyway.
“Maybe he has supersonic hearing,” I say under my breath. “Besides, I don’t kiss and tell.”
“You should,” she argues. “This is big. No more dry spell.”
“Shhh!” I hiss. “I can’t believe you’re focused on my sexual exploits instead of thereasonthat man is on our couch. You seem barely interested that we may be in danger.”
Ginny gives me a maddening shrug. “Those hacker murders don’t have a thing to do with us. And half the neighborhood uses our WiFi, because I made you spring for the fastest service.”
