Dad, Win and I sigh in unison.
We get to work setting up the main buffet first, moving to the cocktail and appetizer tables next. I have no shame in consuming three cheese Danishes before Ma catches me. By the time we're almost finished laying platefuls of food on white linen, we’ve sweat through our shirts.
Win grimaces at the shadows staining his underarms. “I fucking reek.”
“Language, Winnie!” Ma howls from a few feet away.
He smirks. “I literally heard you yell, ‘fuck,’ a few minutes ago.”
“No, you didn’t!” Ma snaps. We exchange a loaded look that says,She’s so full of shit.
The gate squeaks open and a nasally voice calls out, “Lucy? Was that Remy’s truck in the drive?”
Fan-fucking-tastic. Bev is here.
I immediately drop a tray of candied bacon on the table, snapping at Win to get his attention. He squints. I jerk my chin in the direction of the house, mouthing, “Now.”
His brows knit. “But—”
We don’t have time for him to stall. I round the table, grab him by the shoulder and shove him toward the back doors. In his ear, I hiss, “The cougar is here.”
“Scared she’ll think I’m a hunky monkey too?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s notyouthat she’ll be hounding.”
He slams to a halt, spinning around, scowling. “Has she fucking come onto you before?”
“Oh, so it’s hilarious for older ladies to hit on you but it’s unacceptable for them to flirt with me?”
Actual possessive flames flare in his smoky glare. His palm finds my lower back as he leans in close. “I don’t give a fuck ifit’s your mom’s buddy, a guy at a club, a dipshit with LED teeth, your best friend or an ex-girlfriend. If anyone dares to flirt with you, check you out, or god forbid,touch you, they’re dead.”
Shit, he looks serious.
“That’s a bit extreme.”
A dangerous curve to his lips sends tingles to my balls.
“Not at all. You’re off fucking limits.”
His hand slides to my hip, fingers curling in the cotton of my shirt as he backs me through the French doors into the AC.
“You’re a hypocrite,” I huff, pulling away from him and angling for the hall. Like a gnat I can’t shake, he hovers behind me all the way to my old room. It’s decorated in anchors and seashells now; a fluffy unused duvet from a fancy home decor store covers the queen-sized bed, about six hundred pillows piled in front of the headboard.
I hate this room. It’s full of tainted memories shrouded in vivid nightmares seeped in melancholy.
Win's voice cuts through the silence.
“You never told them about us.”
There’s a thread of hurt in his tone.
“I didn't have to.”
He pauses. “They knew?”
Keeping my back to him, I sigh, “Not exactly. They assumed I had a crush on you but after… everything happened, they finally confronted me.”
“What did you say?”
