Her whole body sags, and she glances down at her own bare feet before looking up to meet my gaze again. “Thank you. We can trade off. I don’t mind. I can—”
“Stop atthank younext time.” Fuck, I hate being grumpy. But when it comes to Laney, there’s rarely another way.
Call it self-preservation.
She eyes me for way too long, then looks way too long again at the closed door to the other bedroom.
“Okay,” she finally says. “Thank you. I’ll be quiet when I get up in the morning. If you want me to bring something in for breakfast—”
“Go to bed, Laney.”
Thank fuck, she listens.
As soon as the bedroom door closes behind her, I poke my head out of the bungalow.
Sabrina lifts a single brow at me. She’s standing at the edge of the porch like she has Theo radar, arms crossed, taller than genetics made her thanks to her chunky sandals.
Don’t take on a five-foot-two redhead who knows all the dirt on you.
Just don’t do it.
“Hey, Sabrina.” I grin at her like I’m not agitated as fuck over how far down the toilet this day has been flushed. “Like your shoes. That flower between your toes is a nice touch for the tropics.”
“If you’re going to sneak out, you should put on pants first.” She snaps a quick photo of me, then pockets her phone. Blackmail material. Awesome. “Emma would appreciate it.”
I like Sabrina.
She never judged me for being a crappy student. Occasionally has a drink with me. Sometimes slips a little hint about who I should or shouldn’t piss off or help out.
You want to know what’s going on in the Tooth, she’s your person. Provided she deems you worthy of the information.
And right now, I want more information. Because the bomb she dropped on me yesterday is still sitting heavy, even if I have no intention of being the one to bail her out.
Plenty of people around town would do what she asked me to do.
For instance— “Why didn’t you ask Laney what you asked me?”
“Reconsidering?”
“Nobody’s giving me a loan to hand over to you and you know it.”
“You don’t need a loan, andyouknow it.”
I shrug.
While she’s not wrong—my side hustle brings in a pretty penny—I don’t like that she knows it.
And she probably doesn’t like that I have dirt on her now.
Not that I’d use it. That’s not my thing.
Won’t catch me holding it over her that Bean & Nugget is overextended after expanding into neighboring communities that weren’t as interested in Snaggletooth Creek coffee. Or that they’re two years behind on taxes. Or that they’re at risk of shutting down.
Sabrina wants help bailing the shop out.
And she came to me.
Wonder if she knows I’m paying for the wedding this week too. At Chandler’s request. Which I doubt Emma knows.
