“Take a break,” Paige says. “Help me find a brush.”
Gladly, I set my own brush aside and stretch my back as I rise.
“Where’s your fake boyfriend?” she asks as we make our way to the shed.
“He’s helping his dad with video stuff. They’re having trouble with one of the computers.”
Instead of answering, Paige nods to a patch of dirt near the gazebo. “Isn’t that a little Tillman? What’s he doing?”
“He’s looking for gold.”
Paige flashes me an incredulous look.
“No, I’m serious. Caleb’s been completely obsessed since he found a book about it at our house when they first arrived. Somehow, he figured out that our gravel came from a local quarry, and he asked Uncle Mark if he could search through it to see if he can find something valuable. He’s been at it fordays.”
“Okay then…” Paige says, just as baffled as I am.
“Hi, Hunter,” I call to Landon’s second youngest brother. The boy sits in the gazebo, poking at his phone, looking bored as can be. He must be on Caleb duty this afternoon. Watching the spirited eight-year-old is a full-time job, and everyone in the family takes turns.
Hunter looks up and raises a listless hand in greeting before he goes back to his screen.
“Find anything?” I ask Caleb.
His head is bent over in extreme concentration, and he doesn’t stop sorting long enough to even look up. “Not yet.”
“Well, good luck,” I call as we walk past.
Still staring at the ground, he says, “Yep.”
“I saw the Tillmans’ latest video,” Paige says as we enter the shed.
“Oh yeah?” I can’t quite bring myself to look at her, so I search for an extra brush instead.
“You two look awfully couple-ish.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
“I thought maybe you had forgotten that point and dropped thefakein fake dating.”
I remember how Landon told Evie he likes me, and my cheeks heat. Hopefully, Paige can’t tell in the dim light.
“Nope.”
“If you say so.” She spots a brush poking out from under a folded blue tarp and pulls it off the shelf. “This should work.”
The rest of the afternoon passes quickly, and we somehow manage to finish the fence before dinner.
As we’re cleaning up, Paige’s phone rings. “Hey,” she coos as soon as she answers.
I wrinkle my nose.
“Tanner,” she giggles, making me ill.
Resisting the strong urge to gag, I finish cleaning the brushes as she talks, and then I rinse out the pan with a garden hose. Across the way, Mom and Uncle Mark catch my eye.
Her hand is on his arm, and they’re awfully close. I freeze, feeling uneasy, but they split a moment later. Mark goes one way, and Mom heads the other.
I shake my head, determined to believe I’m reading too much into things.
