Sure, Nick wanted the best for everyone, but only if it lined up with his idea of what that person should want. But he wasn’t going to get into that now. Ultimately, he knew Liv would take Trent’s side, if only to protect her spare bedroom from an unwanted tenant.
“Anyway,” Liv said. “The reason I was calling is because there’s something I need you to do for me.”
“What’s that?”
“There’s a box in my bedroom that has the scrapbook I made for Mum and Dad’s anniversary,” she said, and Trent cringed. Before he had the chance to wipe the expression off his face Liv’s eyes widened. “What was that look?”
“Nothin’.”
“You gave me a look.”
“No, I didn’t.” But denial was pointless. Liv was looking at him with all the practiced suspicion of a sister who knew her brother was up to no good. She’d had years of catching him out.
“Don’t lie to me, Trent Andrew Walters! I know that look.” She pulled the camera even closer to her face so all Trent could see was the furrow of her brows over narrowed eyes. “What. Did. You. Do?”
Shit. No way was he getting out of this now.
“There was…an incident.”
Liv let out a sound of frustration. “What kind of incident?”
“A flooding incident.”
“You flooded my house? What the hell?” Her cheeks were pink now, a key sign that his little sister was about to go apeshit on him. Bloody video calls. He could have kept things on the down low if she hadn’t been able to see his face. “Tell me what happened and don’t scrimp on the details.”
“I was fixing the pipes to get rid of that rattling sound and…I left the mains on. It was a rookie mistake.” He wasn’t going to throw Cora under the bus. No way. “It’s totally my fault.”
“And what’s the damage?” She cringed as if unsure whether or not she wanted to hear the answer.
“Nothing too major. The carpet soaked a bunch of it up, but we got it dried out quickly.” Hmm, how to word the rest of this story delicately?
“You’re not telling me something.”
“The scrapbook may have sustained some damage.”
She wrinkled her nose like she always did before she was about to swear, but she bit back her angry response. “How much damage?”
“It’s done.”
“Done?”
“Ruined.”
“Trent!” She let out a long breath, and the background changed suddenly, like she’d entered a building. Liv yanked her hood back. “I worked on that thing for ages. It was supposed to be a really special present.”
“I know, Liv. I’m sorry. It was an honest mistake.” He held up his free hand to halt any further freak-outs. “But Cora and I have worked our butts off to put it all back together.”
“Excuse me, what?” Liv blinked.
“We remade the scrapbook.”
“You? The boy who once told me arts and crafts were for people who didn’t know how to have fun?” She shook her head. “No, even better, the boy who once glued his own hand to his face while making Christmas ornaments.”
“Don’t remind me.” The Great Glue Accident of 1996 was somewhat of a family legend.
“You really remade the scrapbook?” Liv looked at him through the small screen, her disbelief palpable. “I almost can’t believe it.”
“Believe it. Cora helped, of course. I didn’t do it on my own.”
“I bet that’s just what she wanted to be doing on her holiday.” Liv rolled her eyes. “How’s she doing, anyway?”
“Good.” He wasn’t sure exactly what his sister was getting at.
“Boys, always so detailed.” She laughed. “Does she seem in good spirits, I mean? I know the holiday is supposed to be some time-out for her. She had a nasty breakup, and I know she really wanted to get away. I’ve been worried about her, but every time I check in, I get the same canned response that she’s fine.”
“She’s having fun,” he replied. They were having some of the best sex of his life—what wasn’t fun about that?
Abort. Do not think about that while on the phone with your sister.
“I convinced her to come play beach cricket with the team.”
“Oh, you did?” Liv beamed. “That’s great. Thanks for including her.”
“Of course. The girls were missing your epic swing.”
“Flattery will not make me forget that you flooded my house and decided to stay there without telling me.” Liv wagged her finger at him. “I don’t know if Cora told you, but it’s her birthday tomorrow. I’m sure you probably have plans and stuff, but—”