Still, his mouth seemed to get closer, tempting her to give in and take what she wanted.
“You smell like a…” His voice trailed off, the thought unfinished.
“Like a wet dog?” she asked, a nervous laugh coming from her as the reality of just how ridiculous she was being trickled through the fog of hormonal soup that had become her brain.
“A dog?” he questioned. “No. You smell like cinnamon.”
“I do?” That was a new one. Never before had anyone told her that.
He bowed his head slightly, his lips nearly skimming hers. “You do.”
“I think everything is okay here now,” said Daisy. “We can probably head back. Libs, you coming?”
“Yes,” she responded but she didn’t budge. The likelihood of throwing herself at the man was way higher than the possibility of retreat. At least for the time being.
“Doesn’t look like you are,” stated Daisy.
“Daisy, give her a minute. She’ll come home when she’s ready,” said Isobel, sounding slightly less out of it than she had been. Either the coffee was finally kicking in or she was hoping for a show. With Isobel, both options were viable.
“We’re not leaving her standing out here with…him, like that,” said Daisy, her voice getting higher.
Isobel grumbled. “Everything is fine. And we’re only across the street.”
“Fine?” asked Daisy, somehow managing to get her voice even higher. “Libs is acting really weird. So is the Russian.”
“Someone needs to relax,” said Isobel. “That someone would be you, Daisy.”
“Across the street?” asked Rurik, his eyes widening slightly. “You are who lives in the house directly across from this one?”
Liberty stared at his lips, watching them move, wanting to kiss them.
“Um, Libs?” asked Isobel. “Answer the man before Daisy reaches a decibel level only dogs can hear.”
“Butthead,” interjected Daisy with a grunt, helping Liberty to gather something close to concentration.
“I don’t remember the question.” Liberty swallowed loudly.
Rurik squeezed her fingers ever so slightly. “You live across the street from here?”
Focus on his voice, not his… Wow. He has really great eyes and a super-sexy voice.
“Yes, we live there, why?” demanded Daisy.
Liberty nodded. “What she said.”
His nostrils flared a moment and he managed to get even closer. He pointed to their house, his stance restless. “There?”
“It’s the one directly across from this one,” she returned, unsure what the issue was. But if he dared get any closer, she was going to lose what little restraint she’d been able to muster and kiss the man. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s all good, Liberty Bell,” said Bill. “Sunflower and Is-it-a-belt are going to head on home now. Gus says they got somewhere to be. Gus and me are going inside right now. Stay here. Talk to Russia. Gus says it’s important.”
Liberty focused on Rurik’s lips again and then thought about what Bill had just said. “Sunflower and Is-it-a-belt?”
Rurik’s lips twitched as if he was suppressing a laugh. “Daisy and Isobel.”
“Oh thanks. I wasn’t sure what he was saying,” she said, her voice low.
Rurik locked gazes with her. “You get used to him.”
“He has some interesting nicknames for you,” she added.
He nodded. “Like I said, you get used to him.”
“Come on, Daisy,” said Isobel.
“Yes, but are we sure about leaving Liberty out here?” questioned Daisy, her worry both heartwarming and borderline annoying.
“Yes,” said a deep voice that cut through the area.
It took Liberty a second to realize the owner of the voice was Gus.
“You can trust him with her,” said Gus to Daisy. “He would do anything to keep her safe, even if it meant his life.”
His life?
A small squeak came from Liberty.
“Lincoln has spoken. It’s kind of freaking me out, but whatever,” said Isobel, heading back toward the house. She paused a second before looking at Liberty. “You good?”
A nod was all she managed.
Isobel’s attention went to Rurik. A slight grin slid over her face. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Russia. I’m curious to hear all about why it was you were hosing off your father and why your dad is dressed as Uncle Sam, all while his bestie is dressed as Lincoln, as soon as I get back from dropping Daisy at the airport. I’ll bring some clothes over for your dad then too.”
Liberty’s eyes widened. “Daisy! She’s going to miss her flight. I got sidetracked when I saw Jackass…” Tensing, she glanced at Rurik. “Sorry. Kind of. You were being mean to your father.”
“Libs,” said Isobel.
“What?”
“Something tells me there is more to this story than we know about and that maybe he’s not quite the jackass you think he is. Cut him a little slack,” said Isobel before heading across the street with Daisy in tow.
Gus came rushing by, making a series of tiny steps along the way. He neared Liberty and lifted the helmet with the mannequin head in a way that left the thing appearing to be looking at her. He, however, didn’t glance at her on his way by.
Bill strutted up next to his friend and grinned at Liberty. “Mona says hi.”
Liberty stared at the head in the helmet. “Um, hi, Mona.”
“Gus says you should,” said Bill.
“Should what?” asked Liberty, finding it difficult to follow the man’s logic—or lack thereof.
“You should trust your bones,” replied Bill. “He says they’re right about the Russian.”
“I’m sorry, but what?” she asked.
Bill laughed. “He says your bones are telling you to trust the commie bastard. Gus says you should listen to them.”
The strangest part of the conversation wasn’t the actual conversation; it was the fact that she already did trust Rurik on a base level.
Unnerved by Gus, despite him saying nothing about trusting Rurik that she could hear, she watched as Bill led the man up the back stairs to a small porch. He opened the back door to the house and held it as Gus continued his odd tiptoe walk inside. Bill followed behind him.
Liberty was left standing face-to-face with Rurik. The overwhelming urge to kiss the
