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Chapter 13
Trent finished up the Zoom meeting with his siblings, itching to get over to Liberty’s house. “Okay, well, love you all. I’ve got to get going.” There had been no clear answers in the past two hours.
“What’s your hurry?” Trey asked.
“No hurry. I just think we’ll all have to write down stuff about those days, put it in the Google Doc Brooks has for us by tonight, and then we’ll spend time analyzing it like we all agreed.” He splashed on some cologne and mussed up his hair with a little bit of gel. Perfect. He’d worn a muscle shirt too, because come on! He was helping her move stuff.
“Hold up, Trent,” Hunter said. “Would this being in a hurry have anything to do with the one and only Liberty Grey?”
Dang him. Trent sucked in a breath. “It’s Liberty Hamilton, butthead.”
Hunter laughed.
“Wait, Liberty?” Marshall asked. “She’s the one who went to Germany or something, right?”
Even though Trent recognized Hunter’s little move to talk about his personal life as justification for bringing up his breakup with Amy, he wouldn’t let it get to him. He moved out of his room, down the hallway, and down the stairs. “In fact, it does have to do with Liberty. I’m heading over to her house to help her move some boxes, if you must know.”
There was a pause; then Kensi burst out laughing. “Is that what you’re calling your babe slaying these days? Moving boxes?”
Trent didn’t respond.
“Was that who was in the inn last night?” Brooks asked. Of course Brooks would be keeping tabs on the inn.
“I saw you were entertaining as well,” Trey added.
“Great,” Trent said, grabbing the keys for Marshall’s precious motorcycle. “I supposed you all can see I’m taking Marshall’s bike right now, too.”
“Hey!” Marshall roared. “Don’t touch my bike.”
Trent snickered at that. “Love you guys. Chat tomorrow. Peace out!” He pressed end on the call, ignoring Marshall’s loud protests.
He tugged the cover off the Harley, then drove it out of the garage and hit the remote to shut it behind him.
His phone buzzed. He pulled it out and found a message from Marshall.
You will pay, little bro. You will pay.
Trent laughed, slipped the phone back into his pocket, and pressed on the gas. Maybe he could talk Liberty into a spin after they finished doing some work.
As he rolled up to her house, he saw a moving truck in the semicircle driveway in the front of the house. The front door was open. He parked the bike and put up the kickstand. The side of the truck read, “We help move junk.” Why hadn’t she waited for him? He mentally kicked himself. He should have brought the truck.
People were bustling about inside the house. Trent saw two teams of guys moving all kinds of furniture past him. Liberty was pointing to one of the crews of men who were bringing a couch down the spiral staircase. “Careful, gentlemen. I don’t want to bang up the walls or the furniture.” She noticed him and waved. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, navigating around the moving guys as he made his way toward her.
She directed the other crew. “That one goes in the ballroom. Thank you.”
“You knew I was coming, right?”
“Mhm. And you could move couches all by yourself? Up and down stairs?”
He flexed. “Heck yeah. There’s a reason Lucy gets annoyed with me showing off these guns, but the fact remains I can usually move couches by myself.”
She grinned at him. “Well, I want your help with boxes in the attic.”
“Let’s go.”
For the next couple hours, Liberty worked Trent hard; he moved countless boxes from the attic and her grandmother’s office to the small pod. He liked helping her, and they laughed and joked and took water breaks. The woman was a hard worker, and she constantly thanked him. He teased her about needing a man, so it was perfect for him.
