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“Hey, that’s near me!” Lake said. “Well. About twenty minutes away.”
“Guess I have to move now,” Grady said.
Lake laughed. “Ouch. You’re brutal.” He put the car into gear and then checked the road before indicating and smoothly driving onto the quiet road. He shot Grady a smirk. “I like that.”
Grady leaned back against the seat. “Of course you do.”
WHEN LAKE PULLED INTOthe driveway that Grady had directed him to, he stared in surprise at the cute, quaint house.
“Huh.”
Grady paused with one foot out of the car. “What?” he asked, twisting his head back.
“Oh, nothing. I was just expecting something, you know… darker? More sinister. No.” Lake clicked his fingers with an “aha.” He had it. “Broody.”
“And what does a broody house look like?”
“Not like this.” The house was small, probably only two bedrooms if Lake were to take a guess. But it was covered with warm-blue slats with white edging, a plain white door, and an honestly adorable lantern light beside it that was turned on.
“I’ll take your word for it.” Grady shook his head as he got out of the car. “It’s a rental, though, so that’s probably why,” he said, before closing the door.
Lake followed him out, and it took until Grady had one step on the front porch before he turned and said, “Why are you following me?”
Lake smiled broadly. Grady was a cranky guy, but Lake wasn’t put off by it. Maybe it was the beard that made him seem friendlier? Lake didn’t know if that was how it worked, but Grady had a pleasant face evenwiththe dark broodiness of it—because broody was the only accurate word to describe the entirety of Grady—and the neat beard was only an enhancement.
“I’m just making sure you don’t keel over and die before you get inside the house.” Grady was walking pretty steady but— “You fell asleep for some of the ride home.”
“I did not.”
“You did.” He definitely had. “But once you’re inside, it’s not my problem anymore.”
“How generous of you,” Grady drawled.
Lake slapped him on the shoulder, causing him to stumble forward. “Oops, sorry,” Lake said apologetically.
Grady didn’t seem offended as he steadied himself and then unlocked the front door. He turned back, and Lake widened his smile, hoping he looked friendly and not creepy. It was a fine line.
Grady sighed as he pushed the door open. “Do you want to come inside for a drink?”
Lake mulled the words over. “Is that a trick question? If I say yes, will you give me finger guns and yell ‘psych!’?” It was a legitimate question, no matter how judgemental Grady looked.
“I have never used finger guns in my entire life.” Lake believed that too. Probably.
“Are you luring me inside to kill me?” If anyone could get away with it, Lake guessed, it would be a detective who’d likely dealt with homicides. “I wish I’d worn different underwear.”
Grady paused on the threshold, looking at Lake like he’d just admitted to having a second head tucked into his shirt. “What kind of underwear are you wearing?” He braced one hand on the doorframe as he stared at him with a facial expression that Lake was used to seeing on most people: utter confusion.
“They’re cheesy Road Runner ones with ‘meep meep’ written right over my dick,” Lake told him.
Grady blinked. “Seriously?”
“Cartoons are man’s best friend.” These were Lake’s favourite pair of underwear. He had a whole series of Looney Tunes character ones.
“I thought that was a dog?”
“Potato, potahto,” Lake said dismissively. “I’ve never had a dog—it’s on my list—so this is the next best thing.”
“The next best thing from a dog is… character underwear?”
