gotten old and boring. But it never had. And, considering how much I loved it, it probably never would.
Under normal circumstances, I'd be thrilled to share it with just about anyone – well, anyone except Brody Blastoviak, especially with the way he was looking at me now.
Judging from his expression, he'd rather be anywhere but here – and with anyone but me. As he looked me over, I returned the favor, giving him the same level of scrutiny.
Today, he was wearing his usual getup – jeans and a T-shirt, along with heavy work boots. His jeans were slightly loose, hanging low on his hips and hinting at the amazing abs resting just above the button of his faded jeans.
Thanks to the loose cut of his shirt, I couldn’t actually see his abs, but I'd caught enough glimpses over the past couple of days to imagine plenty, assuming that I cared to dwell on it, which I totally didn't.
When I refused to look away, Brody said, "Is there a problem?"
I stiffened at his tone. "Yes, actually."
I gave his boots a long, concerned look. During the whole time I'd lived at my grandparent's place, I'd never seen anyone strolling along the beach in work boots.
Since I was supposedly the consultant here, was this something I should point out?
Probably.
I looked to Roy and said, "If you want it to look authentic, shouldn't he be wearing tennis shoes or something?"
Brody's voice sliced out between us. "The boots are fine. It's a discussion, not a date."
I felt my eyes narrow. Talk about arrogant.
"Good," I said. "Because I wouldn't want to date you, anyway."
"Good," he shot back. "Because you're not my type."
"Yeah? Well you're not my type either."
He glowered at me. I glowered at him. And then, as if remembering that we had an audience, we both looked to Roy.
Son-of-a-bitch.
Roy was smiling like he'd just gotten lucky. And he was filming us.
Of course.
I gave Roy the squinty-eye. "You did say this was visual only, right?"
In reply, Roy made that now-familiar forwarding motion with his hand, as if to indicate that we should ignore him and keep on doing whatever.
Suddenly, I decided that Brody had the right idea. Let's just get it over with.
Without further commentary, I turned and stomped toward the rear of the house, with Brody at my side.
In spite of the work boots, his stride was long and easy, especially compared to my own. But as far as everything else, there was nothing easy about him. As we traveled ever closer to the beach, I studied him from the corner of my eye. His jaw was set, and his mouth was tight. From head to toe, he looked royally irritated.
Yeah, welcome to the club, buddy.
By the time we reached the actual beach, I'd already had more than enough of his attitude.
Still, a job was a job, so I turned to the right, ignoring the glorious ocean-like view as I stalked stubbornly along the water's edge without saying a single word to my equally silent companion.
When I snuck a quick glance over my shoulder, Roy was following along behind us, out of earshot, but filming nonetheless.
When he saw me looking, he called out, "You're supposed to be talking, remember?"
I looked forward and muttered, "As if he could tell."
Next to me, Brody gave a low scoff. "He can. Trust me. I know."
And that was the extent of our conversation.
From behind us, Roy called out again, "You're still not talking!"
Fine. Roy wanted us to talk? I had the perfect topic. I looked to Brody and said, "You never paid up, you know."
"For what?"
"Yesterday morning, with the hoses – you promised to tell me why it was such a big secret."
"It wasn't that big of a secret," he said. "You knew, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but I didn't know why you were hiding it from the others."
"Sure you did."
I had a theory. And it was good one, too. Still, his confidence grated. Grudgingly, I said, "Alright. If I had to guess, I'd say it was because you didn't want to get scolded for ruining the 'before' shot – you know, like a flooded hallway or water seeping down the stairs."
"I don't get 'scolded,'" he said. "I get grief. And I wasn't in the mood."
I knew the feeling. Not too long ago, I'd gotten plenty of grief for simply mowing the lawn. Still I had to point out the obvious. "Oh, come on. You'd never get the kind of grief I got."
"Got that right."
I almost laughed. "So you're not even bothering