“Is that so?”
I ignore the playful edge in his tone.
“What happened to being at each other’s throats?”
“She realized it was part of my irresistible charm.” Fuck, I need to apologize to her. If only I’d known…
Everett chuckles. “Or maybe she decided surrendering was the only way to get some peace.”
If anything, I’m the one surrendering.
“Russel cause any trouble?” he adds. “Zach said he got pretty drunk.”
I grunt at the memory. “He said some shit to Meg.”
His eyes stay steady and he cocks his head. To anyone else, it would look like he’s politely curious. But I know my brother and this is a special kind of tell. Does he know something about Russet that I don’t?
“At least now, they will only see each other at work,” I say.
"Is that where she is?” Everett nods at Meg’s dark and quiet house.
“Yep. Alaska.” I carry the next board to our pile. “How’s wedding planning coming along?” I ask to change the subject.
He launches into a detailed description of their plans, his tone joyful, excited. It brings back that same strange hollow feeling in my chest, like my heart is shriveling up.
“You got a date yet?” Ev teases, cocking his eyebrow at me.
I scoop some lake water onto my forearms to cool off. “Yeah, actually. Meg.”
Realization dawns on his face. “No shit?”
With a shrug, I reach into the cooler he brought and crack open a bottle of water.
“Let me get this straight,” he says, hands on his hips. “When did you stop hating her?”
“I never hated her.” I toss him a bottle of water.
“Shit,” he says slowly, then cracks open the water. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“Shut up.”
His lips twitch with a knowing smirk.
I polish off the rest of my water, but when I tuck the empty bottle under Ev’s sweatshirt so it won’t blow away, there’s something else there—it’s a copy of yesterday’s Finn River Journal.
He follows my gaze, and for a moment, time slows.
“I don’t suppose you’ve started reading the paper?” he asks.
“Negative.”
“Annaleise Bell has been a pain in my ass for weeks. I can’t figure out where she’s getting her intel. It’s certainly not me or our department, and I know it’s not you.” He sips from his water, then wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist. “She had the nerve to try and rattle me at Glory Holes last week.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“She knows about Sons of Eden.”
Fuck. I lift my hat and comb back my hair before tugging it low on my brow.
