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Her lips curved up at the corners, a sweet, satisfied smile. It crossed my mind that perhaps she’d given the compliment because she’d known it was the one I wanted to hear. You’re a perceptive li’l lady, I thought. I’ll give you that much.
“So,” I questioned, having overexposed myself a bit too much, “ya’ll fine staying by yourselves for a minute? I’ve gotta run back over to my work and pick up m’boy. Shouldn’t be too long of a trek. You’ve got the house keys, annnnd I think that’s ‘bout all you’ll be needing.”
Phoebe ran her hand beneath a small framed photo in the entryway, a black and white picture of the Mojave and a coyote baying at the moon. I’d come across it in a pile of abandoned stuff on the highway. Which was how I’d acquired a good half of my belongings, if we’re being honest.
The motion was intimate. I felt the hand on the wall as though it were tracing my own back. The spine of this house was my own.
I cleared my throat, and she shook her head, as if returning to Earth.
“Yes, of course,” she replied, still a touch absent. “We’ll keep it safe until you get back.”
“Where will you hide your key?” I joked.
Without a word, she pulled her shirt away from her body, and tucked the key inside a bra I couldn’t see. Sweat beaded at my brow. It was clear I couldn’t just flirt with Phoebe. She played hard ball. I needed to get myself up and away from this situation if I wanted to make it out with my heart intact.
“Seems like you’ve got it covered,” I choked out. “I’ll just leave you to it. To, uh, freshen up. Or whatever.”
Goddammit, where had my words gone? I know I was smooth once, at some point, but it seemed like a distant memory.
“Have fun,” she singsonged before bounding after her friend, unlocking the trailer.
“Wait, Phoebe!”
She swiveled around. Breathless, she asked, “What is it?”
“Thought you might want the shower. It’s inside, second door on the left. Next to my room.”
I didn’t need to add the last part, but I had. What was I thinking?
Oh, you know full well what you were thinking, my conscience scolded. Don’t act dumb, Carter, it’s not a good look.
Okay, so maybe my mouth had been workin’ faster than my mind. Maybe I was trying to lob suggestive things back as fast as Phoebe was able to catch up.
But that was just my mouth, a single piece of my body, the weakest bit, in my opinion. As long as I could keep the rest of my musculature from following suit, we’d be fine. I’d stay woman-free, and Rough and Ready would be as peaceful as ever.
All I had to do was have a little willpower.
Uh-oh.
CHAPTER 7
Phoebe
I SLAMMED the trailer door behind me, leaned up against it, and squealed, “Okay, is he not the hottest man you’ve ever seen?”
Jo-Beth was already sprawled across the bed, elevating her feet in the air. According to her, that helped “drain them of blood,” which was supposed to reduce swelling after standing all day. Personally, I thought this was a bit hokey coming from a real-life would-be scientist, but everybody has their pseudoscience vices.
“I thought he looked like he’d make a great subject of an HBO miniseries,” she replied, lowering her feet. “After he kills us and leaves our carcasses for the wild dogs, that is.”
“You are such a drama queen,” I sighed, flopping down next to her on the tiny mattress. Did they make mattresses smaller than twin size? Because if so, this was it.
She rolled onto her stomach to look me dead in the eye. “Phoebe, I’m just saying… be careful. You’re usually the cautious one, and there’s no point throwing away all that good sense for a cute guy. Survival instincts are valuable.”
“And my instincts are telling me he’s okay. Not gonna hurt me.”
Jo-Beth scoffed, “Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that somebody that hot is living out here?”
I jumped to my knees, sending waves through the mattress and pointing an accusatory finger in her direction.
“So you admit it! He is wildly, crazy, stupid hot!”
She rolled her eyes. “I already told you this earlier, you’re just looking for approval. But… Yeah, duh. I may be gay, but I have, like, eyes. He’s the sexiest guy ever, in the history of the planet. Doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to sleep with him or whatever.”
“Who said I was gonna sleep with him?”
“Oh please. I’m your best friend. I know when you’ve got lust on the brain.”
Touché. But could you blame me?
On the other hand, Jo-Beth was right about something — Carter wasn’t simple and straightforward. There were knots to untangle, and dangerous ones at that. Most guys I met unfolded before me like a deck of cards, arrayed in a fan that could be read in seconds. Carter was a jumble of cards, like when you throw a deck in the air and let the numbers and suits fall where they may.
