Page 19 of The Grump I Loathe (The Lockhart Brothers #3)

EDDIE

“ C ome on, you beautiful hunk of junk,” I said, willing the vehicle into the parking lot of St. Orwell Prep before it died. “Just a little further.”

I’d been through this song and dance before. The battery warning light would flash, the car would sputter like some grungy beast waking from a nap, and then it would give one final lurch before?—

“Shit,” I muttered as the car died halfway between the parking lot entrance and the front steps. Could have been worse. I patted the dashboard. “Solid effort. We’ll get you a jump.”

That was a later problem though. First, I had an entire field day to chaperone—including making sure Grace and Alannah kept things friendly instead of turning today into a Hunger Games -style battle royale.

There hadn’t been any more calls into the office after the suspension was over, but things between the two girls still seemed tense, to the point where their teacher had “suggested”—i.e.

, decreed—having chaperones from each family to keep an eye on things.

Apparently, neither Dad nor Valentina could get the time off work, so I’d stepped up.

Alannah shoved the front door of the school open, waving at me as I got out of the car.

“Eddie!” she cried excitedly, racing down the stairs.

She did a cartwheel as she neared me so fast she was a blur of purple sparkle, dressed head to toe in purple team colors, her cheeks covered in purple glitter. “Hey, Lana.”

“ Oops , sorry.” She looked a little sheepish. “Mom said I’m not supposed to be doing tricks this close to my gymnastics competition. It’s showy, and I might get injured.”

“A little flaunting never hurt anyone.” I nudged her as we headed into the school. “So, let me guess…” I gave her a wry grin. “We’re repping team purple?”

Alannah grinned, latching onto my arm as we pushed through the door. “We have team colors for you too!”

I let her drag me into a locker room where I was hit with the smell of cheap vanilla body spray and a half dozen high-pitched squeals of delight.

“This is the team,” Alannah said proudly, putting her hands on her hips. “Okay, girls! Time to purple-fy Eddie!”

More squeals. There was no use in fighting the chaos, and I grinned at the delight on Alannah’s face as her friends stuffed me into a purple T-shirt before decking me out in glittery eyeshadow, temporary tattoos of purple unicorns, and a beaded necklace that said TEAM PURPLE.

“What’s our competition looking like?” I asked as my hair was braided with a sparkly ribbon running through it .

“Grace’s team is definitely the one to beat,” one of the girls said, popping into my line of sight. “You know Grace? She’s the one Alannah?—”

“She knows who Grace is,” Alannah huffed.

“They’re team green,” another girl said. “But not, like, a nice green. Their shirts are the color of baby puke.”

The girls giggled.

“They have the fastest sprinters, though,” another girl said, looking concerned.

Alannah frowned at me, her eyebrows knitting together. “She’s right.”

“Hey,” I said, getting up to check the eyeshadow damage in the tiny mirror above the sink. It was…hideous but somehow awesome at the same time. I whirled around to face them. “None of that matters on field day.”

“How do you know?” one of the girls asked.

“Because I’ve been part of a lot of field days, and what it really comes down to is teamwork. And purple is the dream team, right?”

“Right!” Alannah said. “Purple on three. One, two, three…”

“PURPLE!” they all cheered before flooding into the hall. I joined the gaggle, holding Alannah’s hand, letting myself be dragged past kids in yellow shirts and blue and orange and pink and, yes, baby puke green. That was unfortunate.

“Oh, Miss Sheppard?” A voice cut through the din, and I stopped as Ms. Marilyn beckoned me closer.

“You run on ahead,” I told Alannah. “Get the girls warming up or something. I’ll meet you on the field.”

Alannah nodded and took off as I went to talk to Ms. Marilyn .

She took me in, her eyebrow arching ever so slightly. “It’s good to see you participating so wholeheartedly,” she said. “I’m sure the girls appreciate your…enthusiasm.”

“Happy to help,” I said, choosing to ignore the tone she was giving me. If my baby sister wanted to deck me out in purple so people on the international space station could see that I was part of her team, I was here for it. Not for one minute would Alannah doubt that I was in her corner.

“I’ve already had talks with Grace and Alannah. They’ve assured me field day won’t cause any issues.”

“I’m sure they’ll be on their best behavior,” I said. Alannah had her citywide gymnastics competition coming up, and Dad and Valentina had already reminded her that’s where her focus needed to be, not on hair pulling and bickering. She’d seemed to take that to heart. Mostly .

“I’ve taken the liberty of printing this out,” she said, handing me a piece of paper.

“What is it?”

“Just some suggestions for Simon and Valentina on how to encourage Alannah to interact more positively with her peers. Mostly things that can be worked on at home.”

“Right. Er, thanks.” Parenting tips. I held back my snort. Valentina was going to love that. “I’ll just put this in the car.”

Ms. Marilyn watched me, leaving me no choice but to actually go outside and put the paper away.

I hurried down the front steps, jogging over to the car.

With the battery dead, the fob was useless, so I jiggled the chipped key into the lock.

It barely worked on a good day, but today might be a good day—better to stay hopeful.

I yanked hard on the handle as I turned the key, grunting with the effort.

“Was that your car making that awful racket when I pulled up? ”

I turned around, spotting Connor. He wore fitted athletic wear, showing off an impressive set of biceps and legs that…Well, those shorts were doing me a lot of favors. I snapped my jaw closed, unsure of what I wanted to ogle first.

“Or did you run over a small animal?” he finished, shifting the massive crate of juice boxes he carried to his hip.

“I, uh…” It wasn’t that I didn’t know he had muscles, but I was used to them being discreetly hidden behind boring business wear.

My thoughts drifted back to that dark club, to pressing up against his broad chest as I swayed to the music.

I shook off my stupor. “That’s not even funny coming from the guy who just bought a pet rat for the office. ”

He shrugged. “I had to make sure the animators had a proper reference for Mr. Cheesers now that we have a solid direction for the Juni Protocol.”

“Mm-hmm,” I said. The guy had really gone out and purchased a rat, along with all the fancy accessories for its new rachelor pad. He even had a nameplate fastened to the wall in the lounge where the cage was set up. “You think it’s adorable—admit it.”

“He was the brightest of the bunch when I went to investigate the pet store.”

I’d always heard rats made intelligent pets, and Mr. Cheesers was no exception.

According to his paperwork—because, evidently, fancy rats came with pedigree paperwork—he was some sort of Dumbo Burmese hybrid and he had big ’ol elephant ears.

The little furball was really stinking cute when he cleaned his big ears with his tiny paws or accepted the little yogurt-covered treats Connor had ordered.

“Anyway,” I said, “I didn’t know you would be the one coming today.” While I’d known that an adult from both families had been requested, I’d been holding out hope for Grace’s mom. Or an uncle. Or a friendly neighbor. Anyone but Connor.

He leaned against the side of my car. “Ms. Marilyn thought it would be a good idea.”

“Sounds like we both got the same speech.” The muscles in his forearms flexed as he shifted the box again. What I needed was for him to walk past me so I could get a good look at the back of those shorts. No… No, Eddie ! What I needed was to get the door open. I yanked.

“Better than her thinly veiled threats of expulsion,” Connor said. “Need some help?”

I snorted. “You don’t need lessons from me, remember?” I said. “And I certainly don’t need lessons from you on how to open the door of my junker. I’m a seasoned professional.” I yanked again. Harder. The door didn’t budge. C’mon, car! Don’t embarrass me .

“Does it do this a lot?” he asked.

I grunted. “Only on days that end in Y .”

“Is this why you were late to work the other week?”

I heaved. “Maybe.”

He hummed, putting his box down. “You know, there’s a provision about the use of company cars in the contract. I think this would qualify for?—”

“Ew, no. New car smell? I could never,” I joked, biting my tongue.

This had flavors of Dad tossing money at me to solve my problems. Sure, it didn’t have quite the same flavor of “here, take this expensive thing so I don’t have to deal with you” coming from Connor, but it raised my hackles all the same.

“I don’t need a company car. All I need is a jump. ”

Connor eyed my junker doubtfully. “I think you need a lot more than a jump,” he muttered.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not even going to consider your offer.”

“Oh, you’ll do more than consider it,” he said.

When I turned back, he was closer, and I stumbled against the car.

“I can’t have my narrative designer breaking down in traffic.

” He stared at me, those brown eyes flecked with gold.

My breath caught as he stepped even closer, entering my space, reaching for… the door.

My heart slammed against my ribs. He was just reaching for the door! Get over yourself!

Connor took hold of the key, his fingers slipping over mine. “I’ve got it.”

“It needs a special touch,” I murmured.

His smile hooked, and I felt a jolt of something in my belly. “I can handle a special touch. Trust me.” He wiggled the key in the lock, those forearms doing magical things, and suddenly he was popping the door open, giving me a shit-eating grin. “So, what color?”

“Huh?”

“For the company car?”

“I haven’t agreed to that.”