Eat Crow (Cheap Thrills Series Book 6) Mary Moore (read out loud books .txt) 📖

France and couldn’t do it. If he got an offer to ship to them, he’d be celebrating, and I couldn’t ruin it. If he didn’t, he’d be disappointed, and I didn’t want to add to his shitty day.

So, I stayed fuming and stewing over it all. I also resigned myself to the fact that the middle of the night humiliation parties were going to involve the whole of the P.V.P.D. now, too.

Again.

Fucking joy!

“Thank you for plastic wrapping the rest of the house while I was away,” I teased as I waved him through the front door, having run in ahead of him first to let Doyle out into the backyard. “You should’ve seen Ava’s face last night when we walked in and she saw a psycho’s dream house.”

He was quiet as I talked, only smiling or giving me one of those irritating chin jerks men sometimes did. Okay, it was also a hot mountain man type of gesture, too, but right now, I wished he’d just say something instead.

“Do you want a beer?”

Still no words, just a shake of the head as he followed me into the living room. Granted, he could be exhausted from work, but this seemed more than that.

I could feel the pressure building inside me, wanting to explode out. This was even more awkward and strained than it’d been when I’d first come back here, but as far as I was aware, nothing had happened to warrant it.

Well, aside from the kiss.

Was he that upset over it? I refused to let my old crush dictate how crushed I was at the possibility that’s what this was, but I’d be lying if I wasn’t hurt at the thought.

Unfortunately, that all added to the nuclear explosion boiling under the surface inside of me, and just as I was opening my mouth to let it all out, I took a breath in and smelled something that’d been confusing me since I’d gotten back last night.

It wasn’t anything I’d describe as sinister—not that I knew what a decomposing body smelled like or anything—but it wasn’t pleasant, either.

“Do you smell that?”

A faint blush spread across his cheeks under the scruff on them. “Uh… we all do it. I thought maybe you’d had to use the bathroom before you left today, and that’s normal. I sometimes go in the en suite, and if I don’t close the door, the smell goes into my—”

I felt my head jerk at the implication of what he was saying. “That wasn’t me, you dolt. I smelled it last night and wondered if one of you had been in the house before we got back, but it isn’t going away.”

The smell was kind of shitty, but the most powerful thing to hit me was ammonia.

“Did y’all use any kind of chemicals while you were shrink wrapping the place?”

He looked to the side as he thought about it, but then he shook his head. “No, we used those dusting and polishing wipes you left out to get the dust off the furniture before we took it out, and then we vacuumed the floors because there was a shit ton of crap under it. That’s all.”

“Where’s it coming from?”

Together we sniffed the air, walking out the room and to the bottom of the stairs where it was stronger.

Looking up them, Logan pointed at the top. “I think it’s coming from up there. Did you leave anything out when you left?”

“Like food or a drink?” When he nodded, I pointed out the obvious. “If I had, y’all would’ve seen it when you were removing the furniture out my room. There wasn’t anything in there when I got back.”

“What about Pops’ room?”

Dread filled me at the prospect of having to go in there and look around, making my voice sound small when I answered his question. “I don’t know. I still can’t bring myself to go in there.”

Reaching down, he gently took my hand and tugged me up the stairs, not letting go of it once.

When we got to the top, he took a deep breath in and made a choking noise. “Damn, that doesn’t smell right. Has it gotten worse since you went out earlier?”

“Yeah, but I opened the windows a bit last night to get rid of any dust in the air. It was making my eyes feel gritty and like I wanted to scratch them out. I didn’t close them fully until before I left.”

This didn’t get the response I was expecting. “You left the windows downstairs open all night?”

“Well, yeah, but they were only open a little bit. There was a lot of dust in the air. Even Ava was sneezing because of it.”

What did he expect me to do, die of dust asphyxiation? Slightly dramatic, but I’m sure it could happen.

Heck, most people didn’t think they’d get caught on national television drinking Sake with their friend, talking about their gag reflex, and demonstrating to the other patrons how bad it was with a banana. Yet, here I was, proof that bad luck existed.

“That’s not safe, Bex. All someone would have to do is push them open a bit more, and they could get in and attack you. Hell, the house is already prepared for someone with a knife to do what they want and then just roll up the mess and leave again.”

Groaning, I rubbed my forehead with the palm of my free hand. “Can we get back to why my house smells like a rest stop bathroom?”

The look he gave me told me the conversation wasn’t over, but he went back to sniffing the air. “Could it be coming from the attic?”

Both of us moved until we were under the door leading to it and sniffed deeply at the same time.

“Ew, what the hell is that?”

Turning the torch on his phone on and passing it to me before taking the small Maglite out of his belt and turning it on, he pulled on the chain hanging down, only just dodging the over WD-40’d