“Let us pray.” I shifted up on an elbow to meet Sunny’s eyes. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
I arched a brow. “Not sleeping well?”
Her answering smile was slightly evil. “Why? Do you have some experience with that?”
I glanced to the side. “I might’ve mowed the lawn at two in the morning.”
She nudged Scout and Jem off the sofa and patted the cushion beside her. “Get up here. Come on. Shoes off. Lose the vest. No one relaxes in a vest. No one should jump fences in a vest either. We’ll discuss that some other time. Yes, very good, leave the phone in the kitchen. No one is allowed to need you for a few hours. They will survive.” She pulled a small pillow to her lap and drew me toward her. “There you go. I’m going to stab my little project and you’re going to rest. Close your eyes.”
When I settled on the pillow, she brought her hand to the back of my neck and slipped her fingers into my hair. I died a little. “Wait,” I managed. “What are you stabbing?”
“Oh, this.” She held up a piece of fabric in a wooden hoop. Lots of tiny flowers were sewn around the wordsPeace, Love, and a Little Go Fuck Yourself. “It’s embroidery. Sometimes when my brain gets spicy, it helps to get away from screens and lights and just focus on this one thing.”
“I love it. I love—”
Whoa.Whoa. That was not happening today. For several reasons but most importantly because I was going to pass out any second now and I had no business dropping that kind of statement and not sticking around for the response. Whatever it was.
“I love the whole thing. It’s very you.”
“This, and the whole twisted tale leading up to it”—she ran her finger along the rip high on the shoulder of my shirt—“is very you. Also, I think you should know that I plan to tell the story of you birthing yourself into my kitchen for many, many years to come.”
“Only if I can be there to die of mortification while you tell it.”
I heard the smile in her words as she said, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
chapterthirty-one
Beckett
Today’s Special:
Heirloom Gnome with a Black and Blue Salad
Livingwith a mother on the run, a father in federal custody, and a teenage brother under my care meant I answered my phone at all hours. No rest for the boundaryless.
After grunting out some form of greeting, Hale’s voice came across the line. “How are you sleeping through this, man?”
I nuzzled my face against Sunny’s back and debated hanging up on him. The guy kept obscene hours. Up with the bleeding dawn, every damn day. It was inhuman, truly. And even after a few nights back in Sunny’s bed, I barely felt like I’d gotten my fill of her. I needed every second I could steal. “Get to the damn point or I’m hanging up.”
“Right, well, an epic thunderstorm blew through here last night. Trees are down all over town and the power is out up and down the cove. They say it’s going to be out until the afternoon. Maybe later.”
“We have a backup generator that runs on wired-in gasandbackup-backup solar reserves,” I mumbled.
“We sure do,” he said, altogether too chipper for this hour. “But Naked doesn’t.”
I dropped my forehead to her spine with a groan. “Shit.”
“Yeah, and they lost a chunk of their roof too. I can’t tell if there’s any damage inside but y’all should get over here.”
“Fuck.” I sat up, rubbed my eyes. “You can rig up a portable generator without getting inside?”
“What’s wrong?” Sunny asked, yawning.
“Give me a real challenge,” Hale scoffed.
Phone wedged between my shoulder and ear, I jumped into yesterday’s clothes. “Since you asked, find me ladders, tarps, and people who know something about fixing a roof. And wake up Mel too.”
