If he were involved with the kind of people who thought nothing of kidnapping and truth serums, then that didn’t bode well for Charlotte’s brother’s health or survival.
He shifted and headed for the trunk of the car, knowing they’d have brought him a clothing kit. Charlotte wasn’t saying much, just clutching the blanket and staring at the ruins. She’d shoved her glasses into a pocket for the ride but perched them back on her nose the moment they stopped.
“I take it I didn’t do this on my way out?” he remarked, coming up beside her.
She shrugged. “Not that I recall, but kind of hard to see anything when you’re upside down without glasses on and bouncing like a sack of potatoes being taken for a brisk jog.”
“You are much sexier than a sack of vegetables.”
“Do you have a habit of tossing women on your back and taking off with them?”
“You’d be the first.”
“And don’t worry, you’ll probably be his last,” remarked his aunt Lena. “If you kids are done doing nothing constructive, get your asses in the car. It’s at least an hour to the nearest place with booze and food.”
The car was tight and warm with the five of them crammed inside. Some of the heat radiated from his annoyance because Charlotte appeared determined not to have anything to do with him. She chose to sit in the middle of the backseat, but when he would have joined her, she looked past him and said, “I’d prefer your aunt was back here with me.”
“Ooh. Now that’s a surprise,” Aunt Lenore muttered. “Usually the ladies are falling all over themselves to get close to you.”
“Not helping,” growled Lawrence as he slunk into the front passenger seat.
“Gotta say, I’m starting to like the girl.” High compliment from Lena. “She knows to not listen to your bullshit.”
To his surprise, Charlotte came to his rescue. “I am starting to see why he has commitment issues. I’ve heard of apron strings, but you have him raveled in a massive three-twine ball of snarly mess.”
The polite rebuke had his aunts gaping at the human who dared accuse them of hovering.
He almost snickered. Especially since she wasn’t joking.
Lenore took offense first. “It’s not as if we want to be the ones taking care of him.”
“But someone has to,” Lacey hastily added.
“My sisters are right for once.” Lena’s addition. “Keep in mind, Roarie is a man, and we all know they need a keeper. It’s why I never settled down.”
“They expect you to share a closet,” was Lacey’s horrified admission.
Whereas Lenore said, “I don’t mind them, but I tend to intimidate them after awhile.”
“Arm wrestling them in public, winning, and telling them to do the yellow-belly walk of shame would send anyone fleeing,” Lena said with a snort.
“I’m surprised, given your obviously savvy personalities, that he’s so inept at his age,” Charlotte said.
The insult, so neatly done, meant his aunts were actually silent for a second before tumbling over each other, suddenly playing up his strong points.
“Oh, he might be dumb sometimes, but the boy is actually brilliant. Mostly B’s in college. He would have gotten A’s if he applied himself,” Lacey chided.
“And handsome. While his father passed at a young age, we can assure you that his granddad seasoned quite nicely. Why, he’s still considered the randiest cat down in Florida where he spends all his time now,” Lena said.
Lawrence slouched in the seat. The old man was both a tribute and scary precaution of what the future could hold. Grandpa didn’t remarry when his wife died. He became a player. Had been for over twenty years now. Did he ever get tired of it?
He glanced at Charlotte, who caught his gaze. Her tone held a hint of a smirk as she said, “Handsome is as handsome does.”
“The boy does plenty. He can hunt. Plus, he can play sports. Hand him any ball, glove, or stick, and our nephew will become a pro.” Lenore praised him this time.
Torture. The worst kind, as his aunts suddenly appeared determined to make Charlotte like him. But his Peanut proved stubborn.
“Is he good? Or does he just have an advantage most people don’t have?” she asked.
“Not his fault he was born perfect.” Aunt Lacey sniffed.
“Perfect?” Charlotte laughed. “I’d hardly use that word.”
“Then what would you call my nephew?” Lena’s tone was quiet. Too quiet.
He kept an eye on her. Just in case.
“I’d say he’s a man who feels a need to play a role rather than be himself,” Charlotte said.
“No, he’s not pretending at being a tom cat. He is a—”
A flick in the back of Lenore’s head stopped that in its tracks. But it was still too late.
“You mean a man whore?” Charlotte nodded. “Yup. I can see that. He is much too pretty. I’ll bet the girls don’t even make him work at it.”
“They don’t. It’s why he gets bored.” Lenore agreed.
“Is it because women don’t interest him?” Once more Charlotte twisted his aunt’s words.
Lacey laughed. “Oh, she is quick.”
“Too quick,” grumbled Lena.
“Speaking of quick, where are we going at ridiculous speed?” Charlotte asked.
A good question. “Auntie?”
“Told you. We’re hungry,” Lena grumbled.
“Meaning?”
“Ain’t many places out here to find food and drink, maybe a bed for the night, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Lena appeared to be avoiding a proper reply.
“Why do I get the feeling I won’t like this?”
Lenore sighed. “Because you won’t. We’re going to see the Medvedev.”
He pursed his lips. “You’ve got to be kidding. You do realize they’re nuts, right?” The last time he’d run into a bear from the Medvedev sleuth he almost got arrested.
“It will be fine. Stop being such a kitten about it,” scoffed Aunt Lena.
“Kitten?” Charlotte bit her lip but didn’t manage to completely stem her mirth.
“I know, hard to see him as a youngling now that he’s so huge. He’s not half as cute as when he was little.” Lenore didn’t help things.
“Hey!” he protested.
“What? It’s the truth. He had the chubbiest cheeks as a baby,” Lacey enthused. Then proceeded to show Charlotte because, of course, her phone had pictures, a veritable timeline of his life.
And his Peanut actually looked at them then remarked, “His poor mother. Look at that fat head.”
“He was a tubby tabby, all right. From a young age, we had to put him on a protein and exercise regime,” Lena said proudly.
The history of his life continued unfolding with every image shared. Charlotte’s gaze even strayed to him a few times, not that he was watching—directly at any rate. He was slouched in a way that allowed him to watch her in the rearview mirror.
He didn’t take his attention off her until they pulled through some old wrought iron gates set into dark stone arches. The drive was pebbled and lined with trees and led to a roundabout with a massive stone fountain bubbling coldly. A few Jeeps missing doors and roofs and covered in mud and slush were parked randomly.