“I was just thinking,I wish I could be more like Sabrina,” Laney says, “and then I remembered what you did in the shower this morning, and I’ll bet Sabrina wants to be more like me without knowing why.”
Now I’m half-hard. “Go on.” I kiss her cheek, wanting to do more, but knowing the only place that will lead is to me tossing her into the back of the Jeep, where there’s not enough coverage to keep her from exposing herself to the whole world. “Before I do something you’ll regret later.”
“Maybe we can sneak away from the reception and hide out in the kitchen again. I’ll bring the ingredients. You be ready to take off your clothes.”
If there’s going to be a reception, I need to get the reception set up. She’s not the only one with tasks today. “Killing me, Laney. Killing me.”
“Save me a dance.” She kisses me hard, and then she’s off, dashing across the parking lot to catch up with my sister and her other two bridesmaids.
I sit in the Jeep a minute longer, just watching, and when I turn, I almost jump out of my skin.
“Nice one,” I say to Decker as I roll my window down. “Takes a lot to scare the shit out of me.”
He frowns. “You hear what happened to Mr. K last night?”
Yep. My favorite thing to think about. “Was there. Lucky did a good job.”
He looks across the parking lot to where the ladies are all hugging each other, frowning harder, which isn’t a normal expression. “No, I mean, you hear that he’s allergic to mac nuts?”
I wince. “Hard to miss.”
“Me and my brothers got each other those DNA test kits for Christmas two years ago. Wanted to make sure we were related.”
I open my mouth, and then I grin. “Can see where there’d be doubt.”
“Our dad isn’t our dad. We haven’t told him.”
Hello, left turn. “What?”
“And we’re all allergic to macadamia nuts.”
Oh, fuck. Oh,fuck fuck fuck. I could’ve killed my friends too. “You—you didn’t eat dinner last night. Right? Tell me you didn’t eat dinner last night.”
“Oh, no way. We got our fish naked. Been asking about macadamias everywhere we’ve been this week. But…like…you’re getting tight with Laney. We were wondering if you could ask her to, you know, take a test too. So we can see if we’re right.”
“That you’re related?”
“Yeah.”
“Decker. You’reidentical triplets.”
“Not toeach other. ToLaney.”
I blink at him.
Swipe a hand over my mouth.
Rewind the conversation and see where it veered after that left turn and where I lost track of what was going on, and why Laney needs to take a test to see if the triplets are related.
“You think…because you’re allergic to macadamia nuts…and Charles Kingston is too…and a DNA test told you that your dad isn’t your dad…that Charles is your dad,” I say slowly.
“Threetests said our dad isn’t our dad. Only reason Dad doesn’t know is he hates computers and won’t sign in to the account where you look to see if you have secret relatives. And I think Jack looks a little like Mr. K.”
“You’re identical,” I repeat again.
He makes a face. “Only genetically. Otherwise, we look nothing alike. But genetically, we’re all allergic to macadamia nuts. And my grandma never said a nice thing about the Kingstons, and she liked everyone.”
I swipe a hand over my face.
