to the treehouse? Loser has to eat Mom’s overcooked carrots.”
Jack shivered. “Those aren’t touching my tongue.” He glanced at Clementine, eyebrow raised. “A walk in the woods sound good to you?”
It sounded fine, but he was oblivious to her uncomfortable attire. She jerked her chin downward, toward her braless breasts. A state of undress she’d rather not share with his sister.
The clueless man mouthed, What?
She mouthed, Bra.
Him: What?
Her: BRA, but shouting in silence didn’t work.
She finally pointed at her boobs.
He cringed and patted Chloe’s shoulder. “We’ll meet you at the forest edge, Ladybug.”
Chloe side-eyed the two of them, a move that looked beyond her years, then she punched her big brother’s arm. “Be prepared to lose.”
Chloe darted from the room and Clementine slumped. “That wasn’t awkward at all.”
“Not sure what you’re talking about.” His eyelids fell heavy, clearly enamored with her sparse wardrobe.
“Stop looking at me like that. I’m in your mother’s clothes.”
“It doesn’t matter what you wear. You’re always sexy.”
Her heart gave a flutter. She still had no intention of traipsing around, boobs willy-nilly, all afternoon. “I’ll see if my sports bra’s dry. And I have a change of clothes in my car.” Because her getaway bag was always close. “Then we’ll go for a nice walk in the woods and check out this jump you built.” It would give her time to adjust to these new “dating” circumstances.
She moved to pass him, but he grabbed her upper arm. “You don’t mind spending the day with us?”
She was in his estate, could easily use the time to tour its expanse, find the Van Gogh. Nothing could be further from her mind. Especially when she’d been so close to telling him exactly what had brought her to Whichway. Instead bone-deep fear had seized her lungs. If this went much further, she’d have no choice. She’d have to risk him calling the cops and tossing her out of his house. But he’d offered her right now, and right now sounded pretty darn good. “I’d love to spend the day with you.”
14
The leisurely estate walk Clementine had pictured was anything but. Jack and his father had built an honest to God obstacle course in the woods bordering their property: planks to jump on, logs to duck under, secured knobs for climbing. Clementine wasn’t as adept as Jack and Chloe, who obviously knew the course as well as Clementine knew her Charger’s engine, but she ran and slid and jumped, her jeans slick with mud in minutes.
“Your girlfriend’s slow,” Chloe called to Jack as she bent her knees and launched herself into a suspended net. The taut fabric bounced with her weight but held firm. She rolled off the side, hurdled over a stack of tree trunks, then ran across a narrow log raised a couple of feet off the ground. Damn, she was agile.
Clementine, however, skidded to a stop. Girlfriend.
Jack didn’t notice. He kept on his sister’s heels, his dark hair flopping with his athletic stride, knee-weakening grin on his face. They disappeared ahead, Chloe’s giggles mingling with his rumbling laugh. All Clementine could think was, Girlfriend. Of all the roles she’d played, all the names she’d assumed, she’d never been one of those.
She leaned into a tree and fixed her now-dirty T-shirt, which had ridden up. Her fingertips grazed the puckered skin beneath. If a one-night stand asked about her scar, her pat reply had always been the same: “I fell through a coffee table. Sliced myself on the glass.” An easy lie, but she couldn’t imagine lying to Jack about that. He’d probably see right through her anyway, always so darn observant when together.
A loud crack snapped her attention to the right. Chloe was barreling toward her. She grabbed Clementine’s hand and yanked.
Clementine jogged to keep pace. “Where’s Jack?”
“Shut up and run.”
Okay, then. Still unsure where she stood with Jack’s little sister, she did as she was told. Hands linked, they bolted through the trees, onto the manicured part of the lawn. Chloe tugged her back into a denser section of forest, finally skidding in the mud and falling to her knees.
She pointed at what looked like an on-land beaver dam. “In here.”
That would be a hard no. Clementine had no issues with confined spaces, but her belly seesawed as she watched Chloe cover their footprints and shove herself into a barely visible den. Running around with Jack’s kid sister was one thing. Shoving into a confined space with her, where they’d have to talk, was another.
“I don’t think I’ll