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“Speaking of my mother, she wanted to invite the two of you over for family dinner tonight,” Rhett says. “Coop and Adley will be there.”
“That’s why we came by,” Trevor says. “And to bring you lunch, which is in the refrigerator.”
“Thank you. That was very thoughtful, and I would love to have dinner with your family. Tell Vivian I’ll be there.”
“Tell her we’ll both be there,” Mo adds.
Taking the towel from my hand, Trevor wipes the smudges off my face. “I would kiss you, but you stink.”
I rip the towel from his hand, and Mo laughs.
“Why are you laughing?” Rhett goads. “You look worse than she does.”
Mo gives Rhett a sugary sweet smile. “Are you going to be a nice boyfriend like your brother and come wipe me down?”
“Hell no. I know that look, and you’re evil. If I get within reaching distance, I’ll be in just as bad a shape as the two of you,” he says, taking a step back. “And Trevor’s right; shower before you come.”
Trevor stands up. “Maybe twice.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave them away. “I’ll ride out later with Mo and go home with you.”
“Sounds good. Dinner is at five,” Rhett says, dipping his hand in his pocket.
Trevor’s gaze bounces between Mo and me. “You two okay here?”
I look at Mo slumped against the wall. She smiles, and I nod.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
With a smile on their faces, Rhett and Trevor walk out. A second later Trevor walks back in. “Where’s Milo?”
I point to her old kennel. “Down there.”
Trevor opens the gate and reaches for her. As soon as she catches a whiff of his scent, her little tush is wiggling like crazy. He scoops her up and heads for the door.
“Where are you taking her?”
“With us. You two have a mess to clean up here, and she can run around with Duke and Diesel at the ranch,” he says, referring to Rhett’s dogs.
“Don’t let her get trampled by a horse.”
Trevor stops and looks at the mess around us. “Trust me, she’s safer at the ranch than she is here.”
40
Claire
Mo waits for Trevor to leave again, and then she looks at me. “I’m sorry I told my dad about you and Trevor.”
“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s my fault. I should’ve told my mom sooner. I’m sorry I drenched you with the hose.”
“And I’m sorry I wiped poop on your face.”
I look down at my soaking-wet clothes and the questionable stains I got from rolling around on the floor, and for some reason I bust up laughing.
Mo smiles, watching me, and after a few seconds she starts laughing too. Before I know it, we’re a hysterical mess.
“Look at us,” I pant, trying to catch my breath. “Two grown women having a water fight.”
