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“Talk soon,” I say.

He nods, then jerks his chin toward Lucy. “Take care of her. I guess I don’t need to tell you that. You’ve always been better at it than me.”

I go still, waiting for any hint that he knows what’s up between us, but he sounds dead serious, as though he really thinks I’m the best person to care for the cyclone that is Lucy.

His trust rips at me a little bit, but instead I nod, and say the only thing I can. “I will. Always.”

Craig’s head turns slightly, verifying that his sister is still being mauled by his mother, and then steps closer. “Watch this Oscar character. None of us like him.”

I lift my eyebrows. “Thought none of you had met him.”

“Exactly.”

With that bit of uselessness, Craig flashes me his old familiar grin and slaps at the hood of the car in a final farewell with a “Take care man,” before going around the car to forcibly maneuver Lucy away from her parents, giving her a hug, and then none-too-gently shoving her into the passenger seat.

I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

I lift my hand once more, gesturing goodbye to the family that has practically been my own, the house where I’ve spent more than a few holidays, and amid a refrain of “Drive safe, call often,” I climb into the car beside the girl who once was very nearly the death of me.

There’s a moment of almost suffocating silence, and I wonder if I’m even capable of surviving the next two weeks.

Then Lucy rolls down the window, and the pressure eases, but only for a minute, because she maneuvers half of her body out of the window to wave goodbye to her family with both arms, and the position gives me a prime view of her tight ass in her tiny shorts.

Yeah. No chance in hell are we both going to make it through these two weeks alive.

Chapter 7

LUCY, SIXTEEN, REECE, SEVENTEEN

“Damn it, Lucy, you’re giving me whiplash,” he said, rubbing at his neck before turning to glare at her.

“Not my fault Horny’s older than the U.S. Constitution.”

He laughed. “That’s specific.”

“I had a quiz in U.S. History today,” she muttered as she fiddled with the controls, trying to find the windshield wipers.

“You just turned on your brights.”

Lucy sighed and let her hands drop into her lap. “I don’t know why you agreed to teach me to drive when you obviously don’t want to be here.”

“Because your parents know you don’t listen to them, and I lost a bet with your brother. Plus, I’m the only one with keys to this part of Mr. Jensen’s property where there’s not

hing but dirt and weeds for you to destroy.”

Lucy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. “Is this where you learned to drive?” she asked, looking around at the big nothingness that was part of the winery property where Reece worked.

“Yup.”

“Who taught you, your dad?”

He looked away. “Nah.”

“Trish?”

He snorted. “Would that have been before or after she left for Vegas without so much as a goodbye note?”

Lucy swallowed, annoyed with herself for bringing up his deserting sister and the dad who barely registered that he had a son.

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