“Maybe they were the ones who drugged you,” Shep said.
Jayne shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“That’s the long con,” Shep argued. “You drug a guy, right? But then you don’t touch him. You bring him home and pretend like you saved him from some great evil force. If you do it right, he thinks you’re some hero, and he falls for you fast. Then, when you’re a total asshole to him and start abusing him, he doesn’t even notice, because you were his knight in shining armor that one time, and so of course that means you can’t do any wrong.”
What the hell were thoughts like that doing rattling around his brother’s brain? Jayne dropped the wipe into the plastic bag, double-wrapped it, then pitched it into the trash. Parker cooed and kicked his feet, happy as could be. At least one of them wasn’t paranoid.
“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just make humanity a thousand times more terrifying than it already is.” Jayne washed his hands carefully in the sink, then went to get a fresh diaper. “I really don’t think they were the ones who did it. This morning, they said they fought with a guy who fit Bastian’s description perfectly, and they knew my name.”
“They could have looked at the ID in your wallet,” Shep retorted.
It was a possibility. Jayne pursed his lips, lifted Parker up, and slid the fresh diaper beneath his butt. “Yeah, okay, but how would they have known about Bastian?”
“Did they call him by name?”
“No.”
“Then they could have just invented him. What guy your agedoesn’thave an evil ex?” Shep zipped up the diaper bag. “It’s like all those mediums or whatever. You know, the people who talk to your,” Shep wiggled his fingers, “dead relatives and pass on crazy accurate messages to you from beyond the grave? All of it’s a hoax. They use broad, sweeping generalizations and psychology tricks that could apply to anyone. There’s like, a term for it or something. Barrum effect? Barner effect?” Shep scrunched his nose. “If you’d give me my phone back, I could check it out and tell you. I was reading about it online recently because Evie was all like, ‘OMG Venus is in retrograde through Scorpio!’ and when I told her all of that astrology stuff was bullshit, she didn’t believe me.”
“You can have it back after we leave the restaurant.” It was stowed in Jayne’s back pocket—he knew that if he hadn’t taken it away, Shep would have spent the entire meal doing whatever it was he liked to do online instead of engaging in the moment. “I’m pretty sure as soon as we’re done in here, we’ll be leaving. You won’t have to wait for long.”
“But breakfast is over,” Shep argued.
“You know the rule—if we’re at a meal, no cell phones.”
“Well, it’s a stupid rule.” Shep slung the diaper bag over his shoulder. “I bet now that I’m older, Mom and Dad wouldn’t have cared. Just because you and Simon grew up living like that doesn’t mean it’s right or good.”
Taking a steadying breath, Jayne tightened the wings of Parker’s disposable diaper until it was snug, then made sure it was secure and began to dress him. Shep, he reminded himself, was a teenager. Teenagers were always of the opinion that they were right. In this situation, both as an adult and as Shep’s legal guardian, it was up to him to keep his cool and be the bigger person. One day, when Parker was older and inevitably inherited Jayne’s snark and sass, Jayne would be grateful that Shep had already put him through the wringer. “You’ll get your cell phone back when we’re in the car.”
Shep rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Whatever. Is Parker ready to go?”
The last button of his onesie slipped through its fastener. Jayne double-checked that he hadn’t missed a button hole, then nodded. “Yep.”
“Then let’s go.”
In theory, the plan wasn’t complicated. All Jayne had to do was pick Parker up from the counter, snag the towel he’d been lying on, and follow Shep out the door. In reality, the plan fell apart after step two. Shep had come to a stop by the door, seemingly frozen in place.
“What’s wrong?” Jayne asked, expecting the worst.
After a moment’s pause, Shep put his back to the door, effectively barricading the way out. “You’re not giving him our address, are you?”
“Everett?”
Shep rolled his eyes. “No, the Easter bunny.”
Answers like that, Jayne was pretty sure, were why parents pressured their adult children into getting married and having kids of their own—it wasn’t so they could relive life as a new parent; it was so they could one day exact sweet, sweet revenge. “If you must know, no, I’m not giving Everett our address. I’d planned to give him an address a few streets over. Contrary to what you may believe, I did learn some things after my experience with Bastian. I know that you probably think I’m the dumbest person alive, but I learned my lesson. I’m not going to do anything that’s going to put you or Parker in danger.” Jayne kissed the top of Parker’s head, then resumed his thought. “Besides, this is a one-time deal. Everett is going to drop us off and then we’re never going to see him again.”
Shep huffed, disturbing the hair angled across his forehead. “Earth to Jayne—he’s taking you to breakfast.The dude wants to bone.”
“Dabada,” Parker agreed. He grabbed Jayne’s arm and kicked his feet.
“Wanting to bone and getting to bone are two different things.” Jayne positioned Parker to better secure his feet. “He can want to bone with the burning intensity of a million hardened dicks, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to crawl into bed with him.”
“And it doesn’t mean you won’t, either.”
A mix of embarrassment and anger heated Jayne’s cheeks. To try to dodge Shep’s scrutiny, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure nothing had been left behind on the counter. There was nothing there, but Jayne spent a good chunk of time confirming it. The longer he could stall, the better.
Shep let out a withering sigh. “Listen, it’s not like it’s all that complicated to figure out. You like him. If you didn’t, you would’ve left his ass on Alex and Gwynn’s doorstep like a flaming bag of dog shit.”
