Twelve

Alex

“Jesus, how much does one woman need?” I stared at Isobelle’s luggage with disbelief.

My car was on its ass, fully loaded with all her essentials.

Fuck me, where are we going to put it all?

Lincoln Anderson lent me a bungee cable to secure the trunk after I fought to keep the door closed.

“Do you think it's a good sign that she has pink Playboy bunny symbols all over her luggage?” Grayson mentioned.

I envisioned an illuminated light bulb hovering above his head as his mind whirled with possibilities. Is she kinky? Or does she just like pink? Lincoln cast him a puzzled look, probably wondering what the fuck he was talking about. That brand isn’t well known here in Whitehaven, only Grayson had an outside subscription.

“There . . . that should hold it,” I announced, flustered, sleep-deprived, and agitated. This business with Isobelle tied my stomach in knots.

Grayson let out a low whistle. “Holy cow, that’s a serious amount of stuff. Where is it gonna go? We clearly didn’t think thi