AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“His brother,” Becca ground out. “And he’s kidding—”
“Listen,” said Quinn, “if you’re busy and all, I get it, but I was wondering if you’d go to the mall with me for a few hours.”
“Now?” Becca felt heat crawling up her neck. Chris had to have moved close—she could feel the warmth from his body again, could smell the limestone dust on his skin.
“Well, you’re working tomorrow,” Quinn prattled on, “and I need a dress—”
“Go,” said Chris.
He spoke right at her shoulder. She couldn’t focus on both of them at once. “A—a dress? For—”
“Homecoming,” said Quinn. “See, after last night, I thought Rafe might ask me, and I wanted to have some ideas—”
“Go,” said Chris. There was no give in his expression.
“Hey, Quinn. You know what?” she said into the phone. “I think shopping sounds like a great idea.”
CHAPTER 20
Sunday. Work.
Becca’s nerves were shot. Thank god she could work in the back today, where no one would see her. Scrubbing the kennels wasn’t glamorous, but it was in a locked room with no windows. She’d trolled the mall with Quinn for almost three hours yesterday, nodding and murmuring through dress after dress for some date Quinn didn’t even have lined up yet. The whole time, she’d felt like she was traveling in the sights of a sniper rifle.
Becca couldn’t stop thinking of Chris and his brothers, of these Guides who’d been sent to kill them. Would they run? Lie low? Michael had been heading off to a job yesterday afternoon, but they’d all seemed tense. Were they just going to go about life as usual?
But maybe that was the point. To prove they were harmless.
I think you should stay away from me.
By four, she was glad to lose her smock and grab her purse.
When she was winding through the displays of cat gyms, someone stepped in her way.
Becca’s hand was fumbling through her purse for her keys, and her head was down. She just sidestepped without looking.
close, she could hear his breathing, just a little quick from the exertion. He looked good, all dirty and rugged and streaked with dust. She felt like she should move away.
Michael came around to their side of the trailer, and she felt Chris stiffen. Becca almost wanted to duck behind him. But his brother held the clipboard out to her. “Here. You want to stay? Keep count.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. “Ah ... okay. Sure.”
He didn’t even stay to explain what she was counting, just handed her the pen and walked off to grab a bag for himself. Chris followed him. The clipboard held a carbon form, with scrawled handwriting listing different products she’d never heard of. But she made out Limestone Screenings, followed by the number 18.
She hustled to count. “You need three more,” she called.
The other twin—had to be Nick—lifted his shirt to wipe his face. “How many bags of pavestone?”
And just like that, she found herself playing foreman.
They worked fast once they found a rhythm, and she did her best to keep track of what was what, especially when each brother started loading a different product. She called quantities when they asked for them, making tiny marks to keep herself straight. The labeled bags were easy, but who the hell knew the difference between flagstone and granite pavers? Or arctic slate and pavestone dividers? At first she felt awkward, especially when they were clearly looking to her for direction on what to put on the trailer.
But it felt good to have a task to occupy her mind, to do something normal.
Less than an hour later, the trailer was packed with bags and equipment, and Michael stopped in front of her, his hand out for the clipboard.
She gave it to him, ready for a snide remark.
He didn’t give her one. He just read down the list—checking her numbers, she guessed—then glanced up. “Nice work.”
