Page 25 of Playing Mr. Perfect

“You’ve got that right.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll get it.” I think about her parents’ property, which I’ve seen a few times while visiting Dash and Amber. They have a gorgeous Victorian with a wide front porch and a large yard, a barn for their horses, and another building for her mother’s service-dog training business. There’s a gazebo, where I can imagine her spending hours reading, but that would be too obvious. There are mature trees and a few manicured gardens. “Is it near a garden?”

“You’re getting warmer.”

“Being near you gets me warmer.” I brush my hand along her back and catch a flash of desire in her eyes. “What’s your favorite flower?”

“Roses, why?”

“Just curious.” I mentally scroll through the gardens in her parents’ yard, but I can’t recall any with roses, which is probably why she gave up the answer. Then it hits me. The most obvious place. “I’ve got it. By the big oak tree in your parents’ backyard. The one with the prickly holly bushes around it.”

Her eyes widen. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Easy. I can’t imagine you crawling under your parents’ porch, which would be the best hiding place, or hiding out in the woods, and the barn and garage are too obvious. But no kid wants to go near holly bushes.”

“Impressive deductive skills. How about you? I bet you were a wild thing when you were young.”

“You’re not wrong. I hated to sit still then, and I still do. I was always running around, imagining myself out on a football field. I think I drove my older sister and brother crazy. Victory and Seth were always trying to rein me in, but my younger brother Flynn loved to explore. If I couldn’t get anyone to play football with me, I’d take off in the fields or forests, knowing Flynn would come after me, and we’d run around for hours, using sticks as swords and finding cool places to hide.”

“You said you lived in remote places. Was it dangerous?” she asks as we wander into a room filled with literary memorabilia.

“Sometimes, but our parents gave us strict rules about where we could go and what we could do. They kept a pretty tight rein, and while I was just wild, Flynn was wild and careful. He’s a world-renowned survivalist and a producer now, but even as a kid he was into survival, and he has this amazing ability to hear and read things once and know them forever.”

“Does he have a photographic memory?”

“No. He’s just super smart. He used to drive us nuts spouting facts about animals and plants, but I have no doubt that he did his part in keeping me safe. I was an impulsive kid, and I liked to push limits. My parents would tell me not to go into a pond, and the minute they turned their backs, I’d be in the water and come out covered with leeches.”

“Ew.” She wrinkles her nose adorably. “Sounds like you were rebellious.”

“I was bored. I wanted to be playing football.”

“Even as a little boy?”

“For as long as I can remember. The first time I saw a football game, I was five. We were eating lunch at an airport waiting for our flight, and I saw a game on TV. I was mesmerized, and according to my parents, I wouldn’t shut up about it. My dad wasn’t a sports guy, but when he realized my interest wasn’t waning, he learned all the rules and positions and taught me everything he could.”

“Wow. He sounds amazing.”

“My old man? Yeah, my parents are super supportive of all of us. They definitely fed my love of football. When we were little, it didn’t matter where we were living. If there were enough people to put together a game of football, I’d rally them. Kids, parents, even grandparents if that’s what it took, and I’d teach them all to play. It didn’t matter that half the time we didn’t speak the same language, or that we were in some remote village in New Guinea or Indonesia or South America. I’d find a way to teach them the game.” A rush of adrenaline hits with the good memories. “Man, I haven’t thought about that in years.” I haven’t felt that type of passion for the game in so long, I wonder where it went. I tuck that question away to pick apart another time.

“You sound like you enjoyed it.”

“I did. I loved teaching everyone to play and finding ways to communicate well enough that they all had fun. There’s something about bringing a team together that has always fired me up.”

“So you were a bored wild banshee?”

“Pretty much.” My smile fades as more memories creep in. “But that wild streak got tempered when my youngest brother, Noah, followed me into the woods without me knowing. I was probably nine or ten, and he was only four or five. It took us a while to find him because he’d learned how to hide from playing with us. Not to brag, but we were pretty fucking great at it.”

“You, brag?” she says sarcastically, grinning.

“He learned too well. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. That day changed me. I went from being a carefree kid to watching out for others before myself.”

Pepper’s expression turns thoughtful. “Hurting someone you love, or putting them in danger, can definitely change a person.”

“You say that like you have experience with it.”

She doesn’t look away, but her voice softens. “I did something when I was younger and one of my sisters took the blame for it. It had a big impact on both of us.” As if she realized she was exposing her underbelly, she waves a hand dismissively, quickly adding, “But that was a long time ago.”

I want to know more about what happened, but she’s looking around the room, avoiding my gaze, and I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, so I reassure her instead. “Having each other’s backs is what siblings do. I can’t tell you how many times we covered for each other.”