Sins of Mine - Mary E. Twomey Page 0,15

breath that wraps around my heart and tethers me closer to him.

“Any word on how the shipment of clothes went? I’m supposed to check on that team.”

Paxton snorts through a laugh. “Always talk about clothing shipments while I’m kissing you. Gives me the push to up my game during our next snog.”

“I’m sorry!” I wilt under the truth of what a terrible girlfriend I’ve been.

But there’s no condemnation in Paxton’s smile as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Will it help you settle down for the night if I check on the clothing team for you?”

“Yes.” I wish I could turn off my brain, but if there are unfinished tasks, that’s not going to happen. “I love that you’re just as devoted to the camp as I am.”

Paxton runs his thumb over my knuckles as we head toward the rows of apple trees. “I know what you’re doing,” he chides me.

“What? The Closet is on our way to the house.”

“Mm-hmm. The roundabout way, sure. I just said I would check on the clothing drive effort for you.”

“But now we get to do it together. More time to hold hands. This way, we all win.”

“You are truly dreadful at delegating; I hope you realize.”

“I can live with that.”

Ursa is the point person for The Closet—the team in charge of making sure the clothes that are donated are passed out evenly, and everyone has what they need. It was a stretch to trust her with anything, but she had the most zeal for the project, so she and a fellow named Demir run The Closet.

The moment we come into view, Ursa, Demir and their team of a dozen all stop what they’re doing and salute. I don’t derive any ego from the respect, only a maternal warmth that tells me I can probably stop looking over my shoulder, expecting I’ll be jumped.

“Good evening, everyone. I’m just stopping by to tell you all how glad I am that you’re being so on the ball. How can I help?”

I’ve learned that asking “how can I help” is far more palatable than asking for a status report. I sound less like my father when I come into a team with the attitude of service rather than taking over.

Ursa keeps her spine straight and her chin up when she addresses me. “All the clothes have been sorted into sizes and distributed. We’re back to zero in The Closet, but everyone’s got at least three changes of clothes, so we’re headed in the right direction. Still need new underwear and socks, but those things will come. Hopefully that’s what’s in the next shipment.”

“I need to work another clothing drive into my next speech.”

And just like that, an idea flickers in my mind. A tingle of possibility zips up my spine.

“You guys are so on top of things. Thank you. Have a good night, everyone.” I squeeze Paxton’s hand as we walk toward the house. “My tablet is at the house. The second I get in, I need to write on my list to reach out to Elizabeth Lauren’s Vault.” A plan stacks one step on top of the other in a matter of seconds, until I know exactly what my next move is.

“The clothing company?”

I nod once. “Natalia’s Secret’s biggest competitor.”

“I can add that to your tablet,” Paxton offers. “You’re needed for more than to-do lists, though. Take one night to check in on Gray. You’ve been avoiding him, and he’s been avoiding everyone.”

“I need five minutes with my tablet, and then you can take it away from me.”

“I’ll remember you said that when you’re cussing me out for actually taking it away after five minutes.”

I scoff, indignant. “I’ve never cussed you out before. I’ll need five minutes with my tablet, and then ten minutes in the shower. Then I’ll check on Gray. Deal?”

Paxton is good for me, keeping me balanced when I go manic and race toward the edge of the cliff. “I’ll tell you what: if you can get Gray to eat with us, I won’t bat an eye if you take six minutes with your tablet.”

“Deal!”

I can’t believe I have the energy to jog to the house with my dog and my boyfriend, but my plan needs to be captured before it flits out of my exhausted brain.

The second we cross the threshold, I realize how very filthy I am. I cannot justify sitting on any of the furniture, or taking more than two steps inside.

Everly Ann has no such