But Ellery’s already on her feet, grabbing her purse and keys and heading for the door.
I follow her. “What’s going on, Ell? You know I hate surprises.”
“Just feeling lightheaded from hunger.” Her eyes are on her phone as she taps away at it and hurries across the lawn, the bell of her dress swaying around her ankles. She’s the only person I know who chooses to wear a dress just about every day.
“So lightheaded you’ve forgotten your shoes?”
She stops, looks down at her feet, and turns around. She hurries back to the house, still tapping at her phone, slips on shoes, and races back out to her car.
I lock her door for her with the spare key she gave me not long after she moved in and hurry after her. I’m not at all sure she won’t drive off without me if I give her the chance.
“Ellery,” I say, as she backs out of her driveway and onto the street. She lives in a neighborhood with houses a bit bigger than mine, but her house is modest. A brick ranch-style home she bought when her dream house, a craftsman-style home in a mountain neighborhood, failed to go on sale after years of waiting. And I mean since she was sixteen years of waiting.
I don’t know how she would have bought that house at sixteen, but I don’t doubt she would have figured it out.
“What is going on?” I ask.
“Nothing. You know, why don’t I go inside and check on Marmalade? You can wait in the car and relax. It’s the least I owe you for all your help this morning.”
“What happened?” I ask. “What did Bryson do to my house?”
I am going to kill him if he set something on fire or let Harper play with glitter.
“Nothing.” Ellery’s smile is similar to that of a Jack-o'-lantern as she smiles over at me. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
Ellery barely has the car in park before she’s leaping out and running toward my house.
Nope, I’m not having that.
I jump out of the car and race after her, catching up to her as she lands on my front stoop. I use my whole body to press her against my house as I dig out my key and unlock my front door.
“Melly,” Ellery says, fighting to get free. “What are you doing? Let me go.”
“Nope. I’m not letting you cover for Bryson. I’m going to find out exactly what he did.”
I let go of her to hurry into my house, so she’s right on my heels when I smack into a very firm chest and fall backwards onto Ellery, knocking her to the floor, just as the door is swinging closed on us.
“Ow,” Ellery says.
“Amelia?” Deacon asks, staring down at me, stunned. “What are you doing here?”
I stare up at him, feeling just as confused as he looks. Which could at least partly be the result of the current loss of oxygen to my brain as I try to remember how to breathe in his presence. Has he always been this handsome? Why do I feel like I’d be willing to trade a kidney just to feel his arms around me again?
“Um, this is my house. What are you doing here?” I finally manage to say, proud that I sound almost truly put out.
“Can we have this conversation without Amelia on top of me?” Ellery asks.
“Oh, my God.” I leap off Ellery and offer her a hand up. She’s rubbing the top of her head and wincing, probably from where she got hit with the door. “Are you okay? I’ll get you some ice.”
She pats my shoulder, giving me a weak smile. “I’m okay. I’ll get my own ice. You talk to Deacon.”
“I’m sorry,” I call after her. Then I remember that she knew Deacon was in my house. And I never would have known if I hadn’t pushed past her to get in here first. “Actually, I’m not sorry. You deserved that.” Ooof, no she didn’t. “You deserved some of that.”
“Maybe wait to yell at me until after you hear what he’s doing here,” she says with a pained smile as she disappears into the kitchen.
I cross my arms over my chest and stare down Deacon. “What are you doing in my house?”
He gives me a sheepish smile. “Don’t blame Ellery. Or Bryson. I asked them to let me in and keep you distracted so I could finish Marmalade’s gym.”
