Page 29

Shannon deposits the duffel on my sofa and unzips it. “Tom contributed options. Shirts, sweatpants, jeans, a couple of hoodies. He says if none of it fits, he refuses responsibility because sizing a Wicker Man is outside his expertise.”

That is enough to pull Kell away from Rachel. He goes straight to the bag and removes a dark green T-shirt.

“Shirt.”

“Yes,” Shannon says brightly. “Very good.”

Shannon winces. “Sorry. That sounded like I was teaching a toddler.”

“Yes,” Kell says.

Her mouth falls open. Blair makes a choking sound behind her, and Kell immediately turns toward the noise.

“Funny?”

Blair nods. “Very.”

Shannon points at him. “Okay. I walked into that.”

Kell looks pleased with himself, then turns his attention back to the shirt in his hands. He pulls it over his head. The fabric stretches snugly across his chest and leaves a narrow strip of brown willow visible above Dave’s waistband. The shirt solves one problem and creates another: now I have a much clearer idea of exactly how broad his shoulders are.

He looks down at himself, then back at us.

“Good?”

I make myself look at his face. “Better than shirtless.”

His head comes up. “Why?”

Janet abruptly finds something fascinating inside her tote. I close my eyes for half a second. “We can discuss clothing conventions later.”

“Many conventions.”

“You have no idea.” He reaches back into the duffel.

Janet has already opened her enormous tote on the coffee table. Two paperbacks are tucked along one side behind her wallet and keys. “I brought some things.”

Blair takes in the size of it. “Did you buy out a craft store?”

“I didn’t know what he might like.”

The words might like get his full attention. Kell abandons the clothes and moves toward Janet.

“What things?”

Janet opens the bag. That is all the invitation he needs.

She unloads cards, puzzles, colored pencils, a wooden brain teaser, dominoes, a sketch pad, markers, and enough other activities to occupy somebody through a minor natural disaster. Then she pulls out two paint-by-number kits.

Kell crouches beside the coffee table and begins working his way through everything. He isn’t grabbing or scattering. He picks up one object at a time, turns it over, asks for the name if he doesn’t know it, then moves to the next.

“Cards.”

Janet nods. “Cards.”

He picks up the wooden brain teaser. “Game?”

“Puzzle.”