“She?She who?”
“The person at the door.” It was a definite role reversal, Charlie needing to explain things to Mugsy. She really was rattled. He felt a pang of guilt, but it wasn’t strong enough to make him regret his choice. “It was because I needed towels.”
There was a long silence, during which he suspected Mugsy was counting to ten. “What?”
“That’s why she was here. Because of the towels. It’s a long story,” he added, guessing Mugsy would be less receptive to the details than Jean.
“Charlie.”
He winced. Only Mugsy could infuse his name with that exact blend of care and worry. It was almost like hearing her say,I don’t think you can handle this. Charlie braced for her to tell him he was making a mistake. Usually this was the point where he would cave and ask her what she thought he should do, but this time, he stayed quiet. It would be hard to explain that he needed to stay in case Jean came back. It was practically a date.
Hopefully.
The pause stretched between them, until finally Mugsy sighed.
“I don’t know how long I can cover for you.”
The wave of relief was so strong his knees gave out, sending him crashing onto the edge of the mattress. “Please, Mugsy. I’ll take anything I can get.”
I Like Snakes
byCHARLIE, AGE 8
Snakes are very smooth. They move fast.
Snakes are good at hiding.
They like to be left alone.
Chapter 3
Jean didn’t usually bother making excuses to herself. Most choices boiled down to “because I wanted to.” You could dress it up in noble intentions, but that was the underlying truth.
And yet she found herself running through a list of reasons it made sense to go back to Sunset Cottage when her shift ended the next night:
Loneliness was a documented social problem, so it was basically a mission of mercy.
Her lucky deck of cards was right there, in her bag.
Maybe he’d let her draw him like one of her French girls, and live models were hard to come by.
She was actually showing restraint by waiting this long, considering how close she’d come to turning around last night and finishing what they’d started.
Not that this was a booty call, necessarily. There was plenty of fun to be had with her naked snakeologist beyond the physical. It was also true that there was such a thing as being too honest with yourself. You had to leave room for surprises, even within the confines of your own brain.
Bottom line: If she waited too long, he might be gone. If he was even still here, Jean told herself as she raised a hand to knock.
The sound of running footsteps was followed by a soft thud of impact that rattled the door before it cracked open. Snake Boy litup at the sight of her, like Jean was the Easter Bunny driving an ice cream truck that was also full of puppies.
“You came back.” He glanced behind her, squinting into the darkness on either side of the path, before returning his attention to Jean with another shy grin.
“I forgot to pick up your wet towels.”
“Oh—”
“That was a joke, Dakota.” She kicked off her shoes before slipping past him.
“I thought you might forget,” he said, closing the door behind her.
