Page 5 of Perfect Pursuit

I smirk. Two drinks that likely knocked her and my niece on their asses. That is, if she’s telling the truth.

Ethan:

You two must be the biggest lightweights in history.

Fallon:

No funny.

Fallon:

Worse than hairy balls.

I really want to ask her how she knows about a man’s hairy balls but now isn’t the time to send the little witch retching and likely starting a chain reaction with my niece two seconds after her

I back up another step and nod at my date. “I had a nice time, but I have to go.”

Brown eyes I thought for a brief instance when they came into my shop the first time might be able to distract me from the woman presently texting me widen before they narrow into slits. She says nastily, “Did you double-book yourself? Get a better offer?”

I clear my throat and try not to come off as a total dick though I really don’t give a shit now about finding my way into her bed. “Actually, my niece needs me.”

She sneers, “Your niece is three hours away in Austin, Ethan. What could she possibly need?”

I’m about to explain when she pounds the final nail in her coffin, “Besides, rumors around town about your niece include she has a mother who can take adequate care of her.”

Stepping close, I hiss, “I really hope you remember when it’s time for your probationary contract to be reviewed. As you might recall, every member of the Kensington family sits on the local school board. Talking smack about my sister—a doctor—isn’t a way to guarantee you’re going to be renewed.”

Her mouth opens and closes like a fish before she whirls around and unlocks her apartment door. Flinging the door open, she slams it behind her with an enormous bang. Right after, I hear a scream of frustration.

I don’t give two shits. Glancing down at my phone, I realize it’s been six minutes since I texted Fallon. My recommendation:

Ethan: Keep a bucket close by. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Three hours later, I laugh at the disaster before me. “You two look like you’re auditioning for a Cyndi Lauper video.”

My niece, Austyn, opens her mouth before slapping her hand over it and gripping the mop bucket closer to her. My face morphs into a frown. “Two drinks? What kind of act are you two pulling?”

“Juss two. Sw-Sw…” Austyn’s voice fades off as her eyes fixate on her desk.

“Austyn?” Now fear is sending alarm bells clanging in my head.

Fallon, dressed in a blue sundress has her head resting on the lower bunk. Her whispered words are slurred. “Nesser.”

“You mean never?”

Her face is chalk white, but she nods.

Concerned, I reach for one of their desk chairs and spin it around, straddling it. In doing so, it dragged across the floor, causing both to moan. I feel relief when Fallon lifts her head marginally to fry me with a glare so scorching I’d be incinerated if she actually had the witch powers I attribute to her. I confirm, “You’re never drinking again?”

She shakes her head before her eyes roll back, and she passes out.

I leap from the chair and lean over her, terrified. “Fallon.”

“Ssome...,” Austyn starts before gagging.

Calculating how many hours it’s been since midnight, I come to the conclusion that nothing about this is right. Not one thing. These aren’t two women who had too much to drink. A sour feeling churns in my gut. This isn’t a simple hangover. This is something worse—so much worse.

Thank God Fallon texted me.

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