“It’s a link,” Greer muttered.
“To a countdown…?” Nate showed me his screen. “Coming soon, it says.”
No menu or any other links, just a single page showing an animated countdown to… I squinted, practicing my math skills. Uh, sometime in August?
“What’s in August?” KC asked.
There weren’t enough brats in front of the house. Reese and I locked eyes, and we knew what we had to do. He started walking toward the side of the house, and I followed. Greer and Colt weren’t far behind.
For chrissakes, the brats had just pulled a major stunt. Speaking of soon? This was too fucking soon!
“It’s here too.” Reese slapped a hand on the wall along the side. “Someone did this last night—or around sunup. The whole day’s safe. Paint’s invisible in the sun.”
“Hold on—stop, stop, stop.” I caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder. “Strategy. You crank up the anger, and I’ll see who reacts. We know these boys. They love to raise hell, but they don’t wanna piss anyone off.”
He nodded with a dip of his chin. “Okay. Yeah. Agreed.”
Colt and Greer caught up too, and the former, for some fucking reason, emptied his coffee mug on the wall. But that wasn’t coffee.
“What the hell’s in that mug?” I blurted out.
Nate showed up too.
Colt shrugged. “Wine.”
Sure, why not. Now I could smell it too, and I realized why he’d done that.
The paint was coming off.
He pointed at the wall. “This will be gone in the next downpour, so at least the brats put some thought into it.”
That mattered. It was a harmless prank.
I turned to Colt and Greer. “Which one of you terrifies the brats more if you’re angry?”
The two eyed each other.
“Lemme cut to the chase,” Reese said. “On any given day, brats tiptoe around Greer more because he’s Master material and known to get serious when the situation calls for it. Therefore, the answer is Colt, because I don’t think anyone out here has ever seen him angry.”
Fair enough. It made sense.
“Colt, you’re with me,” Reese went on. “Greer, Nate, and Ash, y’all get a proper look at each brat and read their expressions. I wanna know who they seek out, if they get worried, defiant, whatever—every twitch in their bratty little faces.”
I grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re on it.”
“Quit smilin’, bro,” he told me. “Look more like your husband.”
Nate was already furrowing his brow. “I happen to know Lucas only buys nice wine, and Colt just wasted it on a fucking wall.”
I had to kill my laugh real quick, because the brats would’ve heard me, but that was fucking hilarious.
Colt smirked and threw an arm around Nate’s shoulders. “How about Luke and I have you and Ash over for wine sometime soon? Will that make up for it? You can tie up Kit too if you want.”
“Orwe can get this damn show on the road,” Reese pressed impatiently. “KC’s probably waiting for us inside because he was smart enough to walk straight through.”
Okay, game face. Mean face. We’d put some brats in their places. No problem.
Nate patted Colt on the chest. “We’ll talk. I’ll bring rope.”
