Page 42 of The Secrets We Keep

I opened the door and was immediately hit with the pungent smell of rotten eggs.

“Oh, holy shit,” she gasped. “It did not smell like that before, I swear.”

I didn’t believe her for a second. There was no way it got this bad, this fast. If anything, the leak was probably slow enough that she hadn’t noticed.

I covered my face with my forearm and turned. “You go back outside.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but I beat her to it, placing a single finger upon her lips. “No arguing. Out.”

She froze, her eyes drifting downward. Finally, they focused back on me, and she nodded, silently turning to exit through the door.

With the feel of her lips still branded on my skin, I began the process of opening the windows to create as much ventilation as possible. The cool autumn air started to pour in, and I finally felt like I could take a decent breath.

I headed to the stove, and within a matter of seconds, I found the problem.

With a simple twist of my wrist, I shut it off and then ran to the back of the house and shut off the main—just to be safe. I met her out front minutes later.

Her anxious eyes met mine. “The dial on the back burner wasn’t off all the way,” I said. “It was hard to notice, which was why you probably didn’t smell it at first.”

“So, no leak?”

I shook my head. “No leak. But you’re not gonna want to sleep in there tonight. It will take a while for those fumes to dissipate.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m?—”

“Don’t say you’re fine, Marin,” I warned her. “You’re lucky I’m not marching your ass down to the clinic to get checked out.” I was seriously still questioning it.

“So, where the hell am I supposed to go?”

I breathed out a long sigh. “Molly might have a room,” I suggested.

“It’s ten o’clock at night!”

I looked at my watch. I had forgotten it was one of my late shifts. “Oh, right. Shit.”

Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

“You can stay at my place,” I blurted out. Before I had a chance to retract it, I continued, “I have an extra room, fume-free.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask. I offered.” I replied. “You’re not going back in there tonight, and you don’t have much else in the way of options. Now, get in the truck.”

Her arms folded across her chest. “Can I at least grab a toothbrush?”

“No,” I answered with a smug smile. “But I can.”

“Ugh,” she grumbled. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of bossy?”

“Once or twice. Now, are you gonna tell me where your toothbrush is or not?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

I’d been in Ocracoke for a week, and so far, I’d nearly been chased out of my house by a swarm of angry bees, applied for half a dozen soul-sucking freelance jobs that I hadn’t even been selected for?—

Oh, and here was the best part: I’d landed myself a fake boyfriend.

Never mind that real one I had waiting for me at home—the one I still hadn’t called.

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