Page 35 of The Holiday Fakers
I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t do this.
Piper grabs my hand, her fingers crushing mine, holding me in place.
I’m still staring at Martha, her shy smile now uncertain. She may be only five, but she can read a room.
This is all my fault. How the fuck did I think this would work?
An enormous belch reverberates off the walls and I can’t help a snort, which immediately evaporates at Ethan’s glare.
“Harper!” Erica scolds as Hudson rolls his eyes.
The youngest Locke sibling has a naughty grin on her face.
“Hey Brody.” She burps again.
“Can you still burp the?—”
“Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium?—”
“Harper!” her entire family yells, even though they’re struggling to keep straight faces.
“Hydogen, hedium, lissium, beribibum …”
“Don’t you be copying Aunt Harper now, Martha-Moo,” Ethan says gently.
“But Daddy!” she replies, her little hands holding either side of his face. “It’sscience!”
Ethan’s trying to be stern, but one corner of his mouth twitches, and his eyes are full of love.
“And you think it’s funny, too,” she continues. “Everyonethinks it’s funny.”
Hudson steps forward, his arm extended. “Good to see you again, Brody.”
“You too,” I reply.
Piper lets go of my hand, and I reach out to take Hudson’s, bracing myself for what’s coming.
Jesus Christ. I know this is a test, so I grip back as hard as I can, my metacarpals screaming in protest. Piper told me Hudson was a firefighter, and judging by the strength of his grip, his job involves tearing burning buildings apart with his bare hands.
Just as I’m about to tap out, Harper pushes her brother aside and gives me a hug I’m not expecting, followed by a few loud sniffs, like she’s a dog checking me out.
“Harper!” Piper cries. “Stop it!”
“I see you wear what you advertise,” Harper says with a grin as she disengages. “Top notes of bergamot and a marine accord, heart of cedarwood and ambergris, with a base of smoked vetiver and labdanum. Good balance. Clean but dark.Tempestsuits you.”
“Honey,” Erica says, drawing her youngest child away. “We don’t smell our guests.”
Sweat breaks out across my skin. Can Harper smell fear, too?
“I’m so sorry,” Piper mutters. “I had no idea.”
“You’re Brody,” Martha states solemnly.
I meet her gaze, forcing a smile.
“Don’t be scared,” she says. “Aunt Harper is very special.”
Hudson snorts, and Harper elbows him.
