I tug Frankie’s coat on, and Ollie pops up off the floor with his shoes actually on the right foot.
“Come on.” I fling the door open, really needing him to be home.
Chapter 15
SLADE
“Aw, come on!”
I down the last of my beer as the college quarterback peels himself off the ground.
“This is embarrassing.” Trig stands from the couch and marches into the kitchen. “Who needs another beer? I’ll put a pizza in the oven.”
“Can you make pepperoni this time?” Krissy hollers from her spot on the floor where she’s painting her nails.
“I thought you had a date or something?” Trig hollers back.
She tips the bottle of remover upside down on a cotton ball. “I do, later, but I’m hungry now.”
“How about you put that shit away? The fumes are damaging my lungs.” Wind waves his hand through the air from one end of the sectional. “I think we could light the air on fire.”
“Oh, quiet. I’ll be done in a minute.” She tosses a cotton ball to the side. “Where’s Millie? You wouldn’t talk like that if she were here.” Krissy eyes him.
“She’s at a bridal shower but wants to know when you’re moving into the townhouse.”
“You signed a lease?” Carson asks from his spot on the couch behind her.
She twists to glance at him. “Yeah. I can move in on the first of December.” She returns to her nails, and Carson takes a pull of his beer.
“Why didn’t you have Carson walk through with you?” I mentioned it to her at least twice.
She shrugs one shoulder. “You guys have been super busy.” She screws the cap on her polish and climbs to her feet. “Besides, I’m certain Carson has better things to do than inspect rentals.” She glances at him before heading into the kitchen.
A commercial blares, and I push out of the recliner, following her to toss my bottle in the trash and grab another.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Who’s that?” Krissy asks as I step out of the kitchen to find out.
I open the door, and Sarah stands there, holding Frankie as Oliver hops up and down the cement steps.
“Hey.” I pull the door open wider.
“Thank God you’re here.” She blows a long strand of hair out of her face, her cropped sweatshirt bunching at the waist of her leggings. “I don’t know what to do.”
I frown. “You ok?”
She huffs out a laugh. “I have about six inches of water in my basement.”
“What?”
Her shoulders drop. “My basement is flooded, and I don’t know what to do.”
Oliver’s hopping halts, and he stares up at me.
“Oh, that’s not good,” Wind says over my shoulder.
“Let me grab my boots.” I leave her with Wind for the moment.
