Daniels tore off a sheet and handed her a note; her pen had been flying back and forth so quickly, Lila half-expected the paper to be warm.
Ms. Kai,
Before I lived with Mama Mac, I lived in horrible basements among other places. Net is worried I’ll get triggered because she’s in full-on protective mode right now. Bear with us. Normal service will resume shortly.
Yours,
Caro Daniels
Lila laughed, and some of the tension in the room dissipated. “Tempting as I’m sure my basement must sound to all of you, it’s not necessary. You and Devoss can share the guest room upstairs. My couch folds out into a double bed for Macropi. And someone can sleep on the daybed in my office.”
“Oh, no-no-no,” Garsea said at once. “We can’t let you do that. Good God, you just met us.”
“Yeah, but such meetings!”
Devoss choked on his milk. “See? That,” he cried while Daniels tossed napkins at him. “That. What does it mean? Are you saying you know secrets, or are you just being nice?”
“I’m never just being nice. Finish your milk. And it goes in your mouth, not down your chin.”
“Picky, picky,” he muttered.
And this time, when the door behind her was thrown open, she didn’t even jump.
“Are you guys okay?” Ox cried. She turned and saw he was a wreck. Worse than the night they met, and that was saying something. His hair was a mess (and it was hard to muss up a Caesar cut), his smudged dress shirt wasn’t buttoned all the way, his suit jacket wasn’t buttoned at all, his pants were dirty, he hadn’t zipped his fly, and he was sockless while wearing dress shoes (ouch!).
Why, if I didn’t know better, I would think earlier tonight he stripped outside, didn’t care where his fine clothes landed, prowled around for a bit, did…something…and then rapidly re-dressed and ran over here. At night. During a house fire. In forty-five-degree weather.
“The kids are fine,” Garsea assured him. “And you saw Mama for yourself.”
His head jerked in what was probably a nod. Man, the stress coming off the guy! “Yeah, she’ll be over pretty quick—she’s talking to the firemen.”
Caro held up her pad. FireFIGHTERS. There’s women too.
“Sure, sure,” he replied. “How about you?” he asked Lila, stepping forward. He reached out as if he was going to touch her but settled for raking her up and down with his gaze. “Are you okay? You didn’t get singed? Or worse?”
“Don’t be a doof,” she said but didn’t put any venom in it. She wasn’t sure if she was flattered or alarmed by his intensity. “I was never in the house.” You know that. You saw me run over there. Or are you wondering how I am after all those wildlife sightings?
“You weren’t, but you certainly came over quick enough. At least, that’s what Mama Mac told me when she called,” Garsea said. “And you brought ladders.”
“And wet rags,” Devoss added.
“Why are you all staring at me like I’m the weirdo? What should I have brought? Fireworks?”
“Damn.” Devoss wiped away his milk moustache. “Now I’m kinda bummed you didn’t bring fireworks.”
“C’mere,” Ox said. His hand closed over her elbow and Lila entertained a brief vision of breaking his wrist before shrugging it off and letting him haul her outside. The newly repaired screen door thwacked against the house, then rebounded as he pulled her further into the yard.
“I can appreciate wanting distance for a private chat, but your family’s only eight feet away. Pretty sure they can still hear us.”
“They are my family,” he replied absently, sounding pleased, which was strange. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She began prying his fingers off her wrist. “Honestly, you seem a lot more rattled than I am.”
“Rattled. Yeah. And you’re…not.”
“Not what? Rattled?”
No response.
“Um. This is really close for a conversation.”
Ox had let go of her wrist only to take her gently by the shoulders and was peering at her like a farsighted dentist looking for cavities. “I don’t know who you are. Or why you are. But I really, really want to find out. I know I fucked everything up. I know I betrayed your trust. Have dinner with me tomorrow anyway. Please.”
“You mean tonight,” she corrected, because none of these people ever knew what time it was. “And I can’t. I have to put up all new booby traps for Garsea to trip when she comes snooping while we’re on our fake date.”
From inside: “Obviously I won’t repeat the behavior.”
From right in front of her: “I’m so, so sorry. But that wasn’t a fake date. Not entirely. I really did want to spend time with you. Not a business lunch, not on behalf of IPA. Just you.”
She grabbed his wrists with every intention of wrenching them away but then just stood there like a dolt and stared back into his green eyes. She could smell him, and it wasn’t at all objectionable: grass, smoke, and something that was just Ox.
“Pretty skeevy trick,” she pointed out.
“It was. No excuse. Let me make it up to you.”
“Why?”
“You know,” he breathed. “I know you do.”
The few hairs left on her arms were all trying to stiffen. Fear? Lust? All-consuming irritation? “You’ll have to narrow that down, because I know tons of stuff. I know how to pluck a chicken and stuff a teddy bear. I know that custard’s just a fancy name for pudding, and I know Dairy Queen makes the best non-ice cream in the world. I know dill and thyme make everything taste better and I know how to train a parakeet to sit on a finger. I know how to change a flat and make a perfect fried egg. I know how to ice fish for walleye and how to de-head shrimp and that real whipped cream is a thousand times better than Cool Whip. I’m a friggin’ font of knowledge.”
He just looked at her.
“And I know how long it
