“Tell me all about it.”
“I already started working on it.”
“On what?”
Her eyes came back to mine. “Don’t you want to be surprised?”
“No, thank you.”
She slid her teeth to the side, inspecting me. “Fine. I’m casting you a replica of your car, with us inside, with a hood that opens, connected to a speaker, with a circuit that trips when you open the hood.”
“To a speaker?”
“Yes. It sings Whitney Houston’s version of “I Will Always Love You.” But starts at the part where the drum beats and then she belts out the chorus.”
“You mean that Dolly Parton song?”
Shelly looked almost offended. “No. Not Dolly Parton, Whitney Houston. From The Bodyguard? You know, BAM, And I-I-e-e-I-I-e-e-I-I will a-a-al-l-l-lways love y-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-u!”
Listening and watching her as she sang had me pressing my mouth into a tight line, because Shelly had a terrible singing voice. Really terrible. Like, it was a good thing her dogs weren’t close by, because they’d think she was howling.
But the sentiment made an impact nonetheless.
She got a few looks. We both did. But she ignored them like she didn’t even see people staring at her. And if it didn’t bother her, then it didn’t bother me.
When she stopped, she looked at me, unembarrassed and clearly interested in my thoughts. “Should I still do it?”
“Yes. Definitely. But only if you sing the song.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. Oh, yes. I want your voice singing to me every time I lift your hood.”
She smiled, but then her brow drew together, like something had just occurred to her. “That was an innuendo.”
“Correct.”
Shelly grinned. “It was a good one.”
“Thank you. I’m full of them.”
“Or full of it.”
“Oh!” Burn.
“See what I did there?” She looked proud of herself, her smile growing.
Laughing, I shook my head at her. She wasn’t laughing, but she was grinning widely when I felt a tap on my arm. Quinn stood at my side, his hands in his pockets. And for the first time since meeting him, he was looking at me with a smile.
Granted, it was the world’s smallest smile. It was probably in The Guinness Book of World Records for smallest curve of the mouth possible. But it was there, behind his eyes mostly, and it surprised me.
“Hey Beau.” His tone wasn’t deadpan and it wasn’t aloof, which meant it was damn near friendly.
“Hey Quinn.” I stared at him with wide eyes.
“Can I cut in?”
I nodded on instinct. “Sure.” And almost regretted my thoughtlessness when I felt Shelly stiffen. But quick thinking had me reaching for Quinn’s hand and placing it in his sister’s.
She might not be ready to tell him the truth about her disorder, but I figured there was nothing wrong with me smoothing the road in small ways.
“I’ll be back.” Stepping away, I gave Shelly a quick, clandestine smile of encouragement.
She looked anxious, but not fearful. She also looked grateful. Then her gaze moved to her brother’s and she gave him the world’s second smallest smile. Which only made his grow.
I didn’t know if they were going to stand there smiling at each other or dance. It didn’t matter which, just as long as they were together.
Turning, I strolled off the dance floor, good feelings carrying me across the room to the open bar. As soon as I stepped into the line for a drink, Duane appeared at my elbow, pulling at the bowtie around his neck.
“Is that the Rolex Hank gave you?” He tapped my wrist, frowning at it.
I glanced at the watch face, solid gold set with diamonds. I hadn’t worn the thing since receiving it for my birthday two years ago. I figured if I couldn’t wear it to a wedding, then when could I wear it? What good was owning things you never used?
But now I was having fancy-watch regret.
“Yeah. I have to admit, it’s heavier than I remembered. I feel like I’m lifting weights every time I bend my elbow.” I wished I’d replaced the band with a leather one.
He grunted noncommittally. “You should melt it down, the band I mean, and make it into something for Shelly. It’s got to be six ounces or more. With that much gold you could make it into a lot of things for her.”
I stared at my brother. I stared at him for several seconds. Because his suggestion gave me an idea. And he was a genius.
Genius.
“Duane.” I brought my hand to his shoulder. “You’re a genius.”
“So everyone says,” he grumbled distractedly, searching the reception tent.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you text Drill?” He shot me a stern look.
“I did. I messaged him last night. I told him I wanted a meeting with Christine on Monday.”
“He respond yet?”
“Yep. It’s all set. Monday night, Cooper’s Field.”
I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Christine again, and I hated that Duane was going to spend any of his remaining time dealing with the woman, but it would be good to set her straight. Whatever she wanted, she was barking up the wrong tree.
“Good.” Duane nodded once, turning his attention back to the reception. “Where is she?” He didn’t sound upset. Anxious and excited, but not upset.
He didn’t need to tell me he was referring to Claire.
“I saw her earlier talking to Sienna.” I lifted my chin toward Jethro and my new sister-in-law. “She couldn’t have gone far.”
We both took a minute to scan the reception, and as I did so, I indulged in a few seconds of watching Shelly and Quinn. They weren’t smiling anymore, but they were talking—like they were discussing something of intense fascination to them both—and that made me smile.
“There she is.” Duane hit my shoulder. “She’s talking to Cletus.”
“Let’s get her.” I rubbed my hands together.
“Don’t be a dummy. I don’t want to freak her out.”
I grinned, hitting Duane on his shoulder. “Freak her out? Are you kidding? This will make her year. Look as us. She’s getting two brothers out of this deal, both handsome devils. Except . . .” I faked a thoughtful frown, my fingers coming to my nose.
“What? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Do you think she’ll still love me even though my face is crooked?”
Duane lifted an eyebrow, like he was not amused. “Shut up, dummy. Let’s go—hey, it looks like she’s leaving.”
My twin darted forward, weaving deftly through the crowd toward Claire as she wove deftly through the crowd toward the exit. I followed at an equally hurried pace, a knot of concern forming in my throat that we might not reach her in time. I hadn’t expected her to leave so early.
But then Duane called, “Claire! Wait!”
And she turned, her eyes searching the tent like she wasn’t sure she’d heard her name. When she spotted us approaching, the side of her mouth curved in a way that reminded me of myself when I was preparing to turn on the charm.
“Well, hello boys. What’s up?” She folded her arms across her chest.
“We need to talk to you.” Duane’s tone was severe, as usual.