Rubbing the back of my neck, I tried to wing it. I was a terrible liar, always had been, so this wasn’t easy. “I was getting cleaned up after we finished doing a blue border in the front living room, and I guess Bex is doing the same thing. She said she was going to cook tonight—” Kenton shuddered “—but I kind of like breathing, so we were going to pick some Mexican up.”
Mom was still assessing me, and I could feel the sweat starting on my forehead. I’d learned very early on in life that mothers knew everything, no matter what we did to hide what we’d done wrong. At that moment, I swore she could see right through me.
Her eyes narrowed as she prepared to say something, but the sound of the toilet flushing and the door opening loudly interrupted her. All of us turned to watch as Bex stumbled out of the small room, her cheeks stained bright red as she smiled at everyone like she hadn’t expected them.
“Oh, hey! I didn’t know y’all were here, did you?” she asked me. “What a great surprise. We were just painting.” She started to wave at the front room, then changed her mind and motioned with her hand to the smaller one at the back.
I wanted to do a real-life facepalm. We’d taken off the tape that made the protective border between the blue and white paint yesterday and I’d just said we were painting the front room. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, she’d taken all the painting supplies through to the other room, so there was enough proof we hadn’t been painting in there to raise questions.
We were awful at this!
“Are you okay?” Kenton asked suspiciously as he started to walk toward her, just as Lorena burst through the front door.
“I found them in the— Oh, there you are. Where were you?” she asked as she looked between us all. Then, eyes on her daughter, she moved over to Bex and put her hand on her forehead. “Are you sick? You didn’t get hurt today and lie so we wouldn’t fuss, did you?” Not giving Bex a chance to reply, she snapped at Kenton, “I told you we should’ve taken her home with us.”
“I’m fine, Mom, just a bit hot,” Bex mumbled, trying to move away from the hand that was coming back up to her forehead.
Because it was so close, though, it hit Bex’s hair as she turned her head, revealing the big blue mark on it from where her forehead had touched the paint earlier.
“Is that a bruise?” Lorena shrieked. “Oh my God, Bexley Anne Heath. Why did you say nothing was wrong?”
Looking confused, Bex stared at me like she was begging me to explain it.
Touching the same spot on my head to show her where it was, I cleared my throat. “I think you might have hit your head on the wet paint when you…”
How the hell was I meant to finish the sentence? I mean, I’d started it, and they’d all heard it, so there was no way I couldn’t say anything now.
“Uh…” Think, Logan, you dick. Think! “Bent over to get more paint on the roller.”
I’m a fucking genius, and apparently, my small lie game had gotten better with age.
Or so I thought.
Four sets of eyes—plus Bex’s—all stared at me, one of which was looking like he wanted to cut my head off.
Seeing the predicament I was in, and with lips twitching as he tried his best to hold back his smile, Dad saved my bacon. “We decided to come and see you guys. Your mom said Bex should rest as much as possible after today, so we brought a shit ton of food over.”
“Don’t swear,” Mom snapped. “Especially when you’re talking about food. It’s crass.”
“Well, excuse the fuck outta me,” Dad whispered as he walked past me, grabbing my arm and pulling me along with him. “I’ll just go and get the flowery metric ton of edible delights, dear.”
“Such a smart ass,” Mom sighed as we exited the house. “Now, let’s go and set up the table and chairs in the yard. It’s such a beautiful day, and we should make the most of it.”
“That was a close call,” Dad snickered as we got closer to his car. “No explanation needed, kid.”
Groaning, I reached in and went to pick up one of the covered platters in the trunk and almost dropped it when I felt how heavy it was.
“What the hell did she do, cook a whole cow?”
Throwing his arms up in the air, Dad snapped, “Right? Son, that piece of meat cost me seventy bucks. Fucking seventy! I don’t even know if I’ve spent seven on it before.” Before I could correct him, though, he looked to the side and frowned. “Well, yeah, I have. But seventy’s still a lot of money for dead flesh.”
Balancing a large salad bowl on top of it, I waited for him to pick up stuff to carry in and followed behind him.
If I kept his body between Kenton and me, I might survive long enough to see my next birthday.
If not, I could maybe defend myself with the half bovine in my arms.
Chapter Fourteen
Bexley
Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me. Honestly, I didn’t care where just somebody, please do it now.
From the side-eyes I kept getting from our parents, they knew what we’d been doing when they got here. If that wasn’t enough of a hint, the way Dad kept spinning his knife as he stared at Logan was.
And to add to the discomfort, I had drying blue paint on my boobs sticking to my bra.
“What?” Logan barked, just as I was mentally digging a hole to Japan. “Hurst Townsend as mayor?”
Tipping his chair so that it was only resting on the back legs, Will grinned widely at us all. “Well, we
