Page 222 of Mountain Grump
Ethan sighs. “Quit being perfect. Nothing happened.”
My cheeks warm, but I decide to ignore the compliment. “If nothing happened, then why did you need that?”
“Matilda. I swear. Everything is fine.”
“But—”
“I was thinking about you. Then you texted. And started cursing at me. Acting all outraged… It was adorable. Are you done staring?”
I blink. “Me?”
“No, not you, Tilda. Liza, I can see you. You know that, right?”
I bite my lip.
I shouldn’t ask.
I shouldn’t.
“Who’s Liza?” Jealousy stains my tone green.
“Liza.” Ethan enunciates her name, and I assume she’s still listening. “Is supposed to be stocking the maps. But she’s too busy gawking over our conversation.”
“I’mgawkingover the fact that you’relaughing,” an unfamiliar voice says. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Yeah, well, surprise,” Ethan deadpans.
I snort. “You’re a turd.”
“You’re the turd,” he whispers back.
I snort again.
“Who are you talking to?” the woman asks, clearly still stunned by this playful side of Ethan. And it makes me proud to be the one who brings it out.
Ethan keeps whispering. “Should I tell her? Shock her some more?”
I have no idea what he’s about to say. But I enjoy being in on the joke. “Tell her.”
Ethan clears his throat, then raises his voice. “I’m talking to my wife.”
Wife.
I hear paper rip.
Then the woman screams the type of scream that’s accompanied by jazz hands and running in place.
And I decide I like Liza.
“Let me talk to her.” The voice is louder. Closer.
My eyes widen.
Talk to a stranger?
No, thank you.
“Ethan,” I hiss into the phone. “Ethan.”
