Page 93 of Anton

What if she knows something about Anton and me?

“Hey.” Greer stops at the fence, her attention zeroing in on me. “Can we talk?”

“Uh, I’m kind of busy. Can we do it later?” I unwrap Cider’s leg, hoping that sends her away.

“No.”

Fuck me.

“Give me a sec, Charlie.” I get to my feet and head over to her. “What’s up?”

“You tell me. You’ve been weird all week. Is there something going on that I should know about?”

“No. I’m fine.”

Her eyes turn to slits. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve been moping, and you reorganized the entire feed room at six in the morning yesterday, which you only do when something’s really wrong.” She crosses her arms. “Who do I need to kill?”

Damn, she’s good.

“No one. I swear.”

“Let’s grab lunch,” she adds. “I don’t have any appointments this afternoon.”

Yeah…no, thank you. She’ll interrogate me into submission before the appetizers come.

“Oh, I can’t. I already told Charlie I’d grab something with him.”

I look over at him, silently begging, please go along with it.

The instant he recognizes my desperation, he nods. “Yeah.” He sets down the hose and wipes his hands on his jeans. “I’m getting kind of hungry.”

Relief rushes through me. “Then we should go.”

Greer takes us both in, one brow lifting, and I brace myself for her to tell him to piss off.

Instead, she says, “Fine. But we’re talking later.”

“Absolutely.”

A nervous flutter moves through my stomach. At least now I can prepare myself.

She heads off toward the bed-and-breakfast, and the second she’s out of earshot, I turn to Charlie, who’s watching me with the faint beginnings of a smile.

“Thank you,” I breathe. “Seriously. I owe you.”

“Nah.” He waves it off. “What are friends for? So I take it we’re not actually getting lunch?”

“No, we are. I mean, if you want to.”

“Sure do. I wasn’t lying when I said I was starving.” He grabs his keys from his pocket. “Come on. I’ll drive.”

The diner is half full when we get there, the lunch rush starting to trickle in. We slide into a booth near the back and Charlie waits until we’ve ordered before he leans back against the booth and tips his head at me.

“So…you gonna tell me what I just rescued you from back there, or do I get to keep guessing?”

I groan, dropping my face into my hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“That you’d rather chew glass than have lunch with your sister?” He pinches his thumb and forefinger. “Little bit.”