“Seriously, dude. She’s so hot. I can’t believe she’s your older sister. Like she doesn’t even look thirty.” She spun the phone around to show Wyatt, who nodded in agreement before spooning in another mouthful of cereal.
“Why are you stalking my sister?”
“How else am I supposed to find out if you’re some secret psycho killer?” she asked as if it were obvious. “Your social media profile is nonexistent. No Insta. No Twitter. Just your old-man Facebook account with like ten pictures of you standing in front of various desert backdrops like the world’s most boring school photos.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t capture some of my more exciting moments for you, but the government frowns on us recording ourselves when we’re deployed. We don’t like to just hand the enemy our location.”
She made a distracted “hmm” noise like she’d already dismissed him. He allowed himself a moment to contemplate rolling her onto the floor. “Did you come over here to shame me about my internet usage or did you have some ulterior motive?”
“Uh-uh. I came here to talk to Wyatt about the gala and to ask you about him.”
She turned the phone toward Linc once more. It was a photo of him and Jackson against said boring desert backdrop wearing their fatigues. Jackson had a black bandana around his head to protect his bare scalp from the scorching heat and was mean mugging for the camera. “What about him?” Linc managed.
She tsked, shaking her head. “Who is he? Is he single? Ishea serial killer?”
“Do you have some kind of murder fetish?” Linc deadpanned, earning a snort from Wyatt.
Charlie arched one perfectly manicured brow. “Wouldn’t be any weirder than your kinks, would it, perv? Now spill. Who is he?”
Linc sighed, digging his thumb into his left eye. “At the moment? He’s my boss.”
“Oh, God. He’s not as old as you, is he?” she asked, curling her lip in disgust and zooming in on Jackson’s face.
Linc gently flicked her nose. “He’s not as old as me, no.”
She perked up. “Single?”
Linc made a vague gesture. “As far as I know? We haven’t really gotten into his dating life.”
“Straight?”
She was relentless. He shrugged. “In theory.”
Charlie clapped her hands in excitement, her phone muffling the sound. “Excellent. I want to meet him.”
Wyatt frowned at that. “Why? Do you even date?”
“Who said I wanted to date him?” Charlie countered.
Linc thought about telling Charlie to back off, but in the short time he’d known her, he’d come to realize pushing her away would only cause her to come back stronger. The girl was a rubber band and he wouldn’t be on the other end when she snapped. “Don’t do anything that’ll get me fired.”
Charlie swung her feet from Wyatt’s lap and stood up, swaying. “Oh, head rush.” She walked to the counter. “Don’t worry about it, Missing Linc, I promise I’ll be gentle with him.”
Yeah, right.“Also, leave my sister alone.”
“No can do, Lincoln Log.”
“Stop that,” Linc grumbled, knowing full well she’d only stop when she’d run out of stupid nicknames for him.
“We’re already Facebook friends and we’re going for drinks next time I’m in Orlando, which will be in just three short weeks when I go for that photo-shoot thing with Kristiane.”
“What could you possibly have in common with Linc’s forty-something-year-old sister?” Wyatt asked around a mouthful of cereal.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Linc muttered.
“Sorry, Da—Sorry,” he muttered, face flushing scarlet.
Charlie made a noise like a dying seal. “Freaks,” she cackled before saying, “Linc’s sis is a badass costume designer and I’m an actress-slash-model-slash-singer. What don’t we have in common? Don’t be jelly, boo. You’ll always be my number one ride or die, promise.”
