He smiled again, mischievous now, quicksilver and real.
God, the protectiveness I felt wasinsane.And I wanted to protect him, not because he was weak or stupid, not because I pitied him, but because he was really fucking brave, and smart, and he knew what it meant to sacrifice for his family.
I remembered telling my sister that Con was the antithesis of everything I was, but maybe Con had gotten it right before when he said we were more like mirror images. An equal and opposite match.
I cleared my throat as I realized I’d been staring at him for way too long.
“Come on,” I said, walking past him down the boardwalk.
“Always with thecome on,” Con protested, but he followed me back to the truck and let me drive us back to reality.
Chapter Seven
Constantine
August
Micah Bloom was going to kill me.
Not in the literal, stabby kind of way—though, knowing me, it was only a matter of time before I provoked the man to homicide. No, this was more of a death-by-sexual frustration thing, a slow, choking thirst that got worse every single day.
Today was especially bad.
The O’Leary Summer Picnic—not to be confused with the weekly farmer’s markets, or the Fourth of July fireworks out at the lake, or the giant Labor Day cookout sponsored by the town council—was in full swing on this sunny August morning. The air smelled like grilling meat and fuckingrangwith children’s laughter as O’Learians celebrated the fact that the sun had appeared to scorch us, before winter came back to bury us alive again. And here I was, manning the booth for Ross Landscaping, as I would until I was older than Ms. Semple at the antique store and crankier than Henry Lattimer.
If I lived that long.
If the sight of the gorgeous, sexy man directly across the aisle—the man currently laughing with one of the sisters I’d never met, over some joke I’d never hear, and looking like the world’s coolest, most refreshing drink of water on this hot summer day—didn’t make me crumble to dust first.
I was thinking of carrying a note in my pocket saying, “It’s Micah’s fault!” That way when the police were called to the fairgrounds to examine the shriveled, desiccated corpse of the man who used to be cute, sexy,funConstantine Ross, they’d know exactly who was to blame for my demise.
“What are we looking at?” said a voice in my ear.
I was so startled, I bumped into the table, rattling the display of miniature clay pots, soil, and sunflower seeds I’d set up to show the kids and adults the joys of gardening, since today wasn’t about selling but about giving back to thecommunityand blah blah blah.
I turned and glared at my little brother. “Theodore, one of these days—”
Theo grinned unrepentantly. “I wasgonnasay, I brought almost all the little plant pots from the trunk.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, toward a handcart that was loaded with cardboard boxes, bags of potting soil, and a battered old cooler full of drinks. “I wasgonnaask if you needed help setting up your little craft DIY. But now I’m wondering why we’re staring at Micah Bloom,” he said in a stage whisper. “I didn’t know your hate-on for him was as bad as Mama’s.”
“It’s not,” I protested, squatting down and opening the boxes, so I could pretend to count the pots I’d already counted. “And I wasn’t staring. I was lost in thought.”
Not a lie. I hadn’tmeantto stare. And I was most definitely lost in thought. Thoughts of Micah in his tight shirt. Of Micah kissing me, both times. Of Micah’s hands, which were my kryptonite. Thoughts of Micah’s laugh, which I heard more often these days. Thoughts of Micah’s steady eyes meeting mine over the workbench as I helped him with some project or other. Thoughts of how fucking patient he could be when he wanted to be, like that morning at the marsh.
Thoughts of how the man hadn’t made one single move in my direction since that day, and how everything had somehow gone back to business as usual. Thoughts of how I was gonna kill the next person who asked me, “What's wrong, Con?” if I didn't get some sexual relief really fucking soon.
“Sure you were,” Theo agreed. “And I’m sure he was staring back at you for the same reason. That makes sense.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I couldn’t really see Micah from this angle, but that didn’t stop me from unconsciously shooting a glance toward his table. “He wasn’t looking at me. Probably at our booth. Wondering how it’ll look when he puts us out of business and plants a flag here instead. Because we’reenemies. Obviously.”
Theo sighed and plunked his ass down on the cooler right beside me. “I turned eighteen last month, you know.”
“‘Course I know. I got you that band t-shirt and a gift card to Burger Geek.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He pursed his lips. “Look, I have eyes in my head, okay? I see things.”
My heart kicked up. “Like, dead people? Are we in that movie with the creepy kid?” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Am I Bruce Willis?”
“Never mind. I don’t know why I bother,” Theo said, getting to his feet. “You need help, or what?”
