Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“No, you haven’t,” she said, turning to grab her travel cup from the cupboard. “Y’all have always fought like cats and dogs, sure, but I’ve never seen real hate between y’all until a few months ago.”
“We don’t need her.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” I said, wiping my hands on my jeans. “Things change. People change. Maybe it’s always been there.”
Cleo tapped her fingers against the countertop. “I don’t know. You guys seemed pretty comfortable at the bar.” I quickly turned on her, narrowing my eyes. She was smiling as she lifted her cup and took a sip. “And it’s funny… You didn’t come home that night, even though we were dropped off at the same time. I can’t help but wonder?—”
I surged forward, clapping my hand over her mouth before she could finish. Her eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t say it,” I said. “Don’t even go there.”
She ripped my hand away and pointed at me. “You had sex with Bishop!”
“No, no, no,” I said quickly. “We did not have sex.”
“You didsomethingwith him, though! You didn’t come back to the house until the next afternoon.”
“I was in the barn, you know that.” Much to my dismay, the entire family knew about my getting trapped in the barn while Josie and Lincolnrekindledtheir relationship. Speaking of nightmares, those sounds still haunted me.
“And why were you in the barn?” She leaned her hip againstthe counter. “Because I know damn well you didn’t sleep in there.”
“There’s a couch in the loft,” I said slowly, looking everywhere but at her. Cleo had an uncanny way of coaxing the darkest secrets out of people, and I’d fallen victim to her schemes more than once. “And Strider would be an excellent cuddle buddy.”
“Probably not as good as a six-foot, four-inch giant of a man who gives excellent hugs, but go on.”
I crossed my arms. “Well, if you like his hugs so much, why don’t you spend the night with him?” I mumbled, realizing my mistake too late.
I looked up, finding my sister grinning as though she knew she had me cornered. Why the heck would that have been what I latched onto? Why would I even be concerned if I had nothing to hide?
“And what if I did, huh? What then?”
“Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me? It might work on Josie, but it won’t on me.” I hoped I sounded convincing because I wasn’t sure I felt it.
She lifted one shoulder. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”Okay, maybe it was a little bit.
Ugh. I damn sure didn’t want to think about him in the way I did, but I feared it was too late. My interest had been piqued. Every time I tried to shove those pesky feelings down, firmly locking them into a cute little box at the back of my brain, it shook and rattled until I had no choice but to let them escape. His filthy mouth had set me aflame, and no amount of special private time with my favorite vibrator had been able to give me that toe-curling goodness I was looking for.
I really needed to get laid. And not just laid, but a blow-your-back-out-and-make-you-forget-your-name kinda sex.
Cleo sighed, topping off her coffee. “No, I’m not going to lecture you, but I’ll say this… I’ve never known you to not go after what you want. You’re far more stubborn than your sisters.”
“I don’t want him,” I countered.
My sister walked to our breakfast nook, grabbing her purse. “Whatever you wanna tell yourself, Sis.” I followed her to the living room, stopping when she did in the mud room. “Oh, and don’t forget Dad’ll be coming home today. Mom wants to keep it simple for family dinner tonight.”
“Sounds good. Maybe I can make some chicken soup and load that bitch up with veggies,” I said, resting against the doorframe. “I know how much he loves it.”
“I think he’ll love that,” she called over her shoulder. “Let me know if I need to pick anything up from the store on my way home.”
“Will do,” I said. “Have fun! Teach those kids to fight the patriarchy or whatever you do.”
She rolled her eyes. “They’re six, Lennox.”
“Never too early to start empowering the next generation!”
It wasaround noon by the time I wandered into the barn. I’d spent the morning cleaning up the house, making sure it would be up to Mom’s standards. I didn’t need her coming home and worrying about the fluffiness of the pillows or the fact we’d missed a single shelf with dust.
