“What happened to yer eye?” Mikey piped up.
“Mikey!” I burst out.
Pete gave a hearty chuckle at my expense. “Wild animal attack.” He winked at me, and I scowled back at him.
“What kind of animal?” Mikey persisted.
“Feral cat,” he said around a wicked grin.
I arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure you provoked it.”
Pete just laughed musically in my ear while my brothers’ mouths hung open. Enquiring minds wanted to know more, so I quickly intervened. “Mikey, you’re not supposed to ask people personal questions—it’s rude.”
“I’m sowry, Pete.”
He gave an easy laugh, offering up his fist for a bump. “’sall good.”
“We gotta get goin’,” I said, ushering Mikey down the sidewalk and around the corner to where the cars were parked. Andrew lagged behind to pepper his mentor with questions about what they were going to do tomorrow at The Learning Center.
“Can’t tell you,” Pete answered.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s top secret.”
“Aw, come on!” Andrew protested.
“Well, I would tell you . . . but then I’d just have to kill you,” Pete teased, effortlessly winning over my little brother.
Andrew laughed delightedly at such bold words and jumped at Pete yelling, “Unh-uh!—you’d have to catch me first!” He tore off down the sidewalk practically leaving track marks, bounded over the parking blocks (managing somehow to do both a vertical and horizontal leap), and skidded to a stop in front of the eye-candy feast that awaited his eyes.
So much for tripping when he walks. I felt like all of my plans were imploding on me.
“Oh, man! Is this your car?” Andrew exclaimed.
“Nah, man—it’s my truck though.” Pete removed an electronic key from his pocket and pressed a button. A loud chirping sound issued from the black mammoth; its blinking lights enticing as a video game.
Mikey broke free from my hand, pumping his little legs to get into the shiny boy-toy first. “It’s mine, Drewy!—I alweady cwaimed it when we dwove up!”
Pete threw his head back and laughed before meeting my traitor brothers at the driver’s-side door. “Here, allow me show you your Hummer then.” He opened it with a flourish and hoisted Mikey into the driver’s seat.
Mikey immediately grabbed the steering wheel and began shaking it back and forth with feverish eyes. “Can you take us for a dwive pwease?”
“Sure,” Pete easily agreed.
“Yeah! Let’s take a spin around the block,” Andrew seconded, climbing over his brother to get into the passenger seat.
Pete laughed appreciatively at my brothers’ enthusiasm. They were practically foaming at the mouth as they inspected all the widgets and whatnots. After watching them for a moment, I had a flashback to the other night when I was hiding underneath that thing, and I distinctly remembered Pete saying how easy the mission would be: “Like taking candy from a baby.”
Well done, Cadet Davenport.
I blasted him with a look so filthy it eroded his smile. “Maybe another day, boys. We’ve gotta get home now.”
Pete frowned but didn’t say anything, letting the boys get their loud protests out.
“Let’s go, guys. Now.”
“One mo’wer minute, Kadee-kat, pwease!” Mikey pleaded with his eyes.
I huffed out some aggravation. “Fine. One more minute.”
“Yay!” Mikey celebrated his victory with a fist pump.
While we waited, Pete unzipped the light jacket he was wearing over his P.E. clothes. I noticed it was the same navy one with a roaring lion’s head. “Nice jacket,” I smirked. “I have one at home just like it.”
Pete smirked back. “Keeping it as a memento?”
“More like a reminder,” I retorted, reaching past him to fish out Mikey, who obviously wasn’t leaving any time soon.
“Can we take a wide tomo’wow?” Mikey asked.
“I dunno, maybe,” I hedged.
“Aw, come on, Kadee! Pu-wease!”
“Yeah, or else Pete can just drive me home instead of you picking me up. Right Pete?” Andrew added helpfully.
His mentor took his cue: “Right.”
Could not have that.
“Pwetty pwease with sugar on top?” Mikey clasped his hands together with his “irresistible” face—all pleading eyes and pouty lips.
“Okay, fine . . . next time,” I acquiesced with poor grace. “Now get out before I change my mind.” I could never say no to that face. No wonder Mrs. Reyes had a hard time disciplining him—Mikey was irresistible.
Pete threw his head back and laughed. “Wow!” he said to Mikey, who was straddling my hip now. “That’s a neat trick. Can you teach me how to do that?”
“What?”
“Get your sister to do what you want.” He glanced at me. “You see . . . I’m having a little trouble in that department.”
“It’s easy!” Mikey bragged. “You just say pwetty pwease and put your hands together like this.” He demonstrated for Pete, who played along, placing his palms together to mimic Mikey’s irresistible face. I hated to tell him: his face was already irresistible.
I laughed a little, surprising myself. He was slowly chipping away at my armor. And I was . . . having fun. It was also irresistible and felt very much like manna from heaven. Our eyes met, and I tried reading what was behind the sparkling dark orbs. Friend or foe? Pete stared back, his cartoonish expression starting to melt. Something was passing between us, so I quickly averted my gaze back to the monkey in my arms.
“Okay, wise guy, you can drop the cute act now that you’ve got your way.” I moved to set Mikey down.
“No carrwy me,” he whined, wrapping his arms around my neck.
“Honey, you’re gettin’ so big now . . . and you’re chokin’ me.” I stumbled towards my car.
“I gotcha,” Pete said, reaching over to pry Mikey from my arms. Mikey started a protest that ended in the air as Pete tossed him up and caught him.
Mikey yelped with pleasure, eyes bulging. “Do it again!”
Pete immediately tossed Mikey up again then threw him over his shoulder so that his giggles spilled down his back. He was squealing and laughing so hard I thought he might be choking. That finally prompted Andrew to exit out the passenger side, where he’d been busy inspecting the complex-looking navigational system.
“Hey! My turn next!” he called, hurtling towards Pete, arms wide. Pete exaggeratedly wiped his brow with the back of his hand. I had to laugh— Andrew was getting pretty big.
Something was happening to me inside, a loosening. He was just so, so . . . dang charismatic. And nice. And witty. And drop-dead gorgeous. I found myself almost helpless against his charms.
Why-oh-why does he have to be the bad guy?
I busied myself unnecessarily buckling Mikey into his booster seat with Pete eyeing me with blatant interest. This facilitated the slow burn creeping up my face. When I went to get in, Pete intervened by wrenching the door open for me. “Thanks,” I murmured, trying very hard not to feel the sting of embarrassment at my pathetic wheels.