"Exactly," Duke says.
Peter doesn't know Duke's dad, so I explain. "Duke's dad is a hard-ass. Cares a lot about image. The face his family presents."
"That's too bad," Peter says. "I hope he didn't pass it on to his son."
My mouth drops open, but Peter's mouth turns up in a grin. "You'd better be on your way," he says, motioning at the door.
Duke offers me his hand. "You ready, Daze?"
He nicknamed me Daze a long time ago, and for years I've liked the friendly name. But being called Sunshine? It puts a warmth in my limbs, a feeling that it's more than simply a nickname.
I nod at Duke, tucking my hand in his and stepping into his side. To Peter, I say, "Thank you for today." It's not nearly enough to cover the way he helped me, how he showed me the tools and products I'd need. He wasn't doing it for me, he was teaching me.
Peter opens the front door and steps back to allow us through. "Always happy to share my home repair knowledge."
Duke leads me from the home, and in a little twist I wasn't expecting, Peter follows us outside. He stands on the front porch, watching us walk to Duke's SUV. Duke opens my door and I climb inside, then Duke turns and looks up at the house. Peter's waving, smiling a little too broadly. Duke returns the wave, a little too emphatically.
I understand they're giving the neighbors a show, making certain they know there wasn't any funny business going on. But is that all it is? Because it feels a little like overkill.
Duke closes my door, and Peter retreats into the house. I pull out my phone and send him a short text.
What did your email say?
Dear Bobbie, No court of law in the United States would convict a person of a crime without evidence, and since you don't have photographic proof of the alleged infraction, a guilty verdict cannot be rendered. Have a nice day.
What do you think she'll do next?
That remains to be seen.
I am invested, Sailor.
I promise to report in, Sunshine.
Chapter 24
Daisy
"What isit you're fixing around your house?" Duke asks, taking his time on the way out of the neighborhood. Probably to make sure everybody gets an eye full of us in his car, looking happy and in love like two people who are close to their wedding would look.
"Um, well..." My hands, folded in my lap, squeeze together. It's not that it's a secret per se, but I wasn't planning on telling people I sort of went batshit and pulled out my cabinets. And peeled the tile off my wall. Telling Duke the truth will lead to questions, questions I don't want to answer. Questions I don't want to ask myself, because I don't want to give light to my response.
"Just some stuff that needs to be fixed around my house." It's the truth, but not totally.
Duke isn't buying it. We've made it to the stop sign that will empty us out onto a main road, so Duke looks over and says, "I've never known you to be a liar, Daze. Current situation notwithstanding."
"There were some things in my house I wanted to change, and I got a little too…froggy," I finish, borrowing a term from Peter's vocabulary.
Duke's eyebrows raise. "Froggy?"
I nod. He takes a right, and I watch as his hand turns the wheel. No turning with the heel of his palm, fingers suspended in the air. Just a typical grip, and a typical turn.
"I'm guessing that's a term you learned from the SEAL?" He thumbs behind himself toward Peter/Hugo's house.
"I do believe that's where I heard it."
Duke grows quiet. We've been friends for such a long time now that I can read his silences, and this one is saying that he is mulling something over, working a problem in his mind.
"Daze," he starts, "why didn't you ask me to help you fix what's broken in your house?"
