Page 48 of Midnight Auto Parts

“Yeah, well, I do. I want details.” She climbed onto the counter and began chanting, “Spill, spill, spill.”

“I make food on that.” I recoiled from her grubby bare feet leaving prints on my granite. “Get your butt down from there.”

“You never cook,” Matty pointed out. “You might unbox takeout on that counter but?—”

A firm knock on the door froze the pillow fight, and we fell silent then exchanged loaded glances.

Mouth set in grim lines, Kierce strode toward the door to identify our uninvited guest.

And if I slipped a knife from the butcher block into my palm, well, that was my life lately. No one could blame me for being cautious.

“I’ll get it.” Kierce, who had tucked himself in a corner when the fight broke out, as he was still not a fan of pillows, volunteered to answer the door. Probably to show off the results of his recent lessons inhow to human. First things first, he called out, “Who is it?”

“Carter.”

He glanced back to check with me, and I nodded encouragement. He progressed to the next step, which required him to peek out the hole in the door to verify the person’s identity. He lingered there then gave me another quick look before twisting the lock and opening the door.

“Well, that took thirty years.” She crossed the threshold then froze. “Another day, another pillow fight.”

With a sigh, she marched to the counter and executed a precise chop to the bend of Josie’s legs with the side of her hand. Josie’s knees buckled, and Carter caught her mid-fall, swinging her up into her arms. An impressive feat when Josie was a good foot taller than Carter.

Meanwhile, I used the distraction to replace the knife and pretend I hadn’t been arming myself.

“My hero,” Josie cooed at her, kicking her feet and linking her arms behind Carter’s neck.

“Not hardly.” She opened her arms and let Josie tumble onto the floor. “Quit being a brat and stay off the counter.”

Both the tone and the warning rolled off her tongue with such ease, I could tell this wasn’t Josie’s first offense. I wished I could pretend I had no clue how or why that might be, but I had witnessed Josie dancing on one too many bar tops while shaking her booty at hot guys, and girls, for that to be true.

She also had a particular dance for Matty and me that was part Macarena and partplease God make it stopshe pulled out for special occasions. Had Carter not arrived when she did, I had a sneaking suspicion Josie had been about to launch into her routine.

“I ordered steaks and potatoes from your buddy’s restaurant down the street,” Carter told me, ignoring Josie’s grunts of pain. “We need to talk, and you need to eat.”

The mention of food was enough to perk up my stomach and produce a growl worthy of a rabid dog when I realized she meant Bash was doing the cooking.

“Food sounds amazing.” I went to help Josie to her feet. “Can you rustle up salads for us too?”

Grumbling her answer, she started to leave but stopped with a hand on the doorknob. “I forgot.” Her fingers went limp, and a surprised kind of laugh parted her lips. “I don’t live here anymore.”

Her quiet words grabbed my heart in both hands and squeezed like it was a stress toy.

“This is still your home.” Matty jogged over, slinging his arm around her neck and dragging her into a headlock. “Come on.” He hauled her onto the landing. “Let’s go pick some freshveggies. Kierce hasn’t touched any of your things. You’ve got dressings and vinaigrettes for days in your fridge.”

With Josie snarling promises of revenge, Matty led her off tucked under his arm.

“How do you do it?” Carter asked as she shut the door. “Josie is like a kid on a permanent sugar high.”

Some of that might be my fault for spoiling her as best I could when we were young. “Love.”

Carter snorted and invited herself to flop onto the couch. “How was your nap?”

“Inconvenient.” I rubbed my face with my palms. “I lost a whole day.”

A wholeworkday.

No, no, no.

Meaning the shop had been closed too.

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