“And Tammy thinks I know?” Of course she did. She’d called me three times in the span of four minutes.
“Well...”
“Topher,” I said in the same way I’d said his name when he was little and about to do something he absolutely should not do, like bite Crusty the cat’s ear. “What are you not telling me?”
“I might have said it was your idea.”
I held my hand to the bottom of the phone, blocking the receiver, and hissed a string of swear words. “You’re going to have to tell them the truth at some point,” I finally said when I was done.
“But not today?” he asked.
I hated the thought of lying to my sister, especially considering her current opinion of me, but Topher was already in hot water. I knew what it felt like to be the family fuckup, and if I could save him from that—or at least delay it—I would. “Just text me everything you told her so we can get our stories straight.”
“Oh my God, you are legit the best uncle of all time. Texting you right now!”
“I bet that’s what you tell—”
The line cut out.
“All your uncles,” I mumbled.
I hoisted myself up onto the workshop table with my phone at my side. Moments later, I received a text from Topher that was so detailed it could have been a police report.
Now, I just had to psych myself up to call my sister. No FaceTime. She’d be able to tell I was lying before I even opened my mouth.
I needed to hype myself up like Winnie had done in the sleigh. I let my lips fly, blowing air out, as I shook my shoulders like Rocky Balboa.
“Hey, Champ,” Winnie purred as she stepped into the soft glow of the safety lights.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” I said.
“You were busy doing my pump-up routine,” she said. “Got something big you need to tackle?”
I held my phone up. “A phone call back home.”
“To whom?” she asked as her heels—shiny and bright red—clicked against the floor. I’d never been into the idea of someone stepping on me in heels, but her legs moving lazily one in front of the other made me wonder. And then there was the thought of her foot pressed to my chest back at the North Pole. Did I suddenly have a foot fetish? Or was it just a Winnie fetish?
“My sister,” I finally answered.
“You mean to tell me there’s someone out there who actually intimidates you?”
“You’ve never met my sister,” I told her. “She’s amazing. Don’t get me wrong. But I guess you could say she and I aren’t seeing eye to eye right now.” I shrugged. “But anyway, you’re here, which means Tammy Cakes can wait.”
“Tammy Cakes?” she asked. “No wonder she’s got it out for you. That’s an awful nickname. I don’t even want to know what you call me.”
“You don’t require a nickname,” I tell her. “You’re Winnie Baker.”
“Well, Kallum Lieberman.”
“Yes, Winnie Baker?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
My dick twitched as I tucked my phone into my back pocket. She had my full attention. “Your propositions always seem to involve me getting into trouble.”
“For the sake of artistic research,” she said, and then took a deep breath. “Fuck me. Please.”
Chapter Fifteen
