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I frown. That's a crock of crap.
He clears his throat, stumbling over his words a bit. "Which is why I started to consider buying one of these lots. But I'm not made of money like the Brockers, and if I pay these prices, I need to know the community isn't going to fold. I don't want to be the only one out here." He forces a chuckle which sounds more like a wheeze.
I school my facial features so hopefully I don’t look as annoyed as I am. “Which lot, Kenny?”
His eyes snap to mine. “Thirteen.”
My brow furrows. “Thirteen? Really? Out of all the lots available, why do you want one that’s not overlooking the pond or what will be the horse pasture?”
He folds his arms over his chest. “Exactly. It’s the worst plot of ground out here, so why should I pay full price for that?”
I shake my head. I guess he has a point, but I hope that Brocker turns him down if he submits a formal offer. Kenny gives me the creeps with the way he’s always closely observing everyone and everything. The last thing I want to deal with on a daily basis is him.
His beady gray eyes shift to look over my shoulder and narrow, then I hear the rumble and automatically smile. I don't have to turn around to know that it's Mack's truck.
Kenny spits a stream of brown liquid, gathered from his mouthful of tobacco chew. I try to keep my nose from wrinkling in disgust.
"That boy circles you like a shark. He's driving one of Brocker's trucks. Does this mean he's sticking around for a while, or are you not at liberty to say? I saw that he’s hosting a tour and recruitment event for all of the Frost Forest volunteers at the backwoods station funded by Brocker and his deep-pocketed buddies."
"I'm not sure." I cup a hand over my eyes to block the bright afternoon sun for a better look at the handsome six-three tower of muscle and sinew behind the wheel. A thrill of excitement sizzles along my veins. Kenny is right. Ever since we started touring the property, Mack's been making routine drive-bys.
Kenny scoffs. "Right. Okay, Miss Sheridan. I've had enough for one afternoon."
My lips curve, and a tingle of anticipation for tonight's dinner date with Mack washes over me. I turn to Kenny. "That's an excellent call, Mr. Brown. I think we're done here."
"Why did your friend have to leave so early? I liked her." Aunt Trudy walks in, grips the back of my chair, and lays a hand on my dresser as she shuffles past it.
Turning, I press a quick kiss to her temple. "You two really hit it off, didn't you?"
Her impish smile reminds me of the young-at-heart girl who lives inside her delicate, aging frame. "We did. Colby's actually very funny."
A smile spreads across my face. "I know, I told you that you'd like her."
Trudy nods. "I wish she could've stayed longer."
"We could see her all the time if we lived in Charleston." My eyes slide in her direction, and I laugh as she wrinkles her nose at the mention of moving.
"I'd rather she visit us here. You look pretty as a picture tonight, Brookie-bru."
I smile and dab a drop of perfume on each wrist and then press them behind each ear. "Thank you, Aunt Trudy."
Her eyes brighten. "Where are you going?"
I chuckle. "Where is your cane?"
Her lips twist in a sour expression. "I hate that thing. I keep dropping it. Poor Duncan woke with such a start when that silly cane slid from off the back of my chair and clattered on the kitchen floor."
I cup her shoulders. "The next time we're in Clear Creek, we're stopping for one that has four little legs at the bottom and can stand on its own."
Trudy shrugs, and I step back in front of the bathroom mirror. "I'd rather go to Clear Creek for dinner. Is that where you're going tonight?"
Running a wide tooth comb through my long locks, I sweep my mane of waves over my shoulders. "It is."
She smiles in the mirror's reflection. "Are you going with him?"
"Mm-hmm."
She claps her hands. "I knew it! You're wearing the perfect perfume that's going to make him want to lean in closer."
