“What’ll you tell Christian?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t want to lie to him. We’ve always been honest with each other.”
“Honest?” She giggles loudly. “Carter? I hate to break it to you, but Bug is way more than Christian’s best friend.”
I sit heavily on the arm of the couch. “Yeah, I know. But don’t tellhimthat. I’m not quite sure why they’re trying to keep it under wraps. Probably because Bug lives right next door and they don’t want us policing their every move.”
“Is her dad strict?”
“Asher? No. He’s cool. I think her stepmom, Allie, is more protective of her than he is. You should meet her. I think you’d get along great.”
She shakes her head. “We’re only here for a week. What would be the point?”
“I’m just saying, even a week or ten days can drag on if you have nothing to do.”
“Who says I have nothing to do?”
I cock my head. “Do you work from home?”
“Something like that.”
This woman. She sure does keep her cards close to the vest. But then I think about the hours we talked earlier. How she told me about her childhood and her mom. Her overprotective dad. But other than mentioning her ex, and how he isn’t Amelia’s father, she didn’t say a single word about either man. Couldone of them be the reason her car is full of all her worldly belongings?
Her belongings.Shit. She’s going to need them.
“Hey, I should head back to the shop for a few hours.” I motion to the bedroom. “Those sheets have been on the bed for months. I’m not even sure why I made it up. You’ll want to wash them, and the bath towels too. Feel free to use the kitchen upstairs while I’m gone. Christian shouldn’t be a bother. And I promise to install that lock on the door as soon as I’m back.” I walk to the stairs. “Guess we should go tell the kids.”
I can hear Amelia and Christian laughing before I open the door. When we walk through, I can see why. They’ve taken to building a house of graham crackers. And there are broken pieces and crumbs all over the table and floor.
Kenna is horrified as she rushes forward. “I am so sorry,” she says, worry and guilt battling in her expression, as if maybe I’ll rescind the offer because her kid is so messy.
“It’s not her fault, Mrs. Bennett. It was my idea.”
“Seriously, Christian, call me Kenna. After all, I’m only nine years older than you are.”
“You’re twenty-four? Cool. My dad is thirty-two. At least that makes you closer to his age than mine.”
Kenna blushes profusely. “Uh… yeah, I guess it does.” She sweeps the crumbs from the table into her hand, throws them in the trash, and asks, “Where do you keep the broom?”
Christian waves her off, unaware that his comment embarrassed her. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it up.”
Kenna regards his crutches leaning against the table.
“Don’t let those fool you,” Christian adds. “Believe me, I do most of the chores around here.”
“Most?” I say dramatically. “Son, you make me out to be a drill sergeant.”
Christian laughs. “Sorry, Dad.”
“Some chores,” I say. “He doessomechores around here.”
“So, are Kenna and Amelia going to be staying in the basement?”
My eyes go wide at Christian’s question.
“Come on, Dad. Did you really think I didn’t know about it?”
I pull out the chair next to him and sit. “You know?”
