Tomorrow's Lies (Promises #1) (20 page)

Flynn

H
air cut time arrives. It’s the same drill as every time before, only now Jaynie is in on it.

The plan is put into action, and it is smooth sailing…at first.

Stealing a large pair of scissors from the craft barn during the course of the work day isn’t all that difficult. Sneaking them into the house becomes a challenge, though, when damn Allison corners me as I’m on my way to the porch at the end of a long day.

“Flynn-n-n,” she whines annoyingly from the top step. She shifts her lithe body, clad in tiny lime-green shorts and a matching tank, effectively blocking my way.

“Have you been avoiding me?” she asks distractedly as she tugs her too-short shorts down a millimeter. “It seems since you quit smoking, we never talk anymore. And, well, I miss you, Flynn.”

She flutters her eyelashes, and I glance beyond her to see if everyone is in the house. The twins are through the door, but Mandy and Jaynie are waiting for me on the porch. Shit.

Jaynie is watching my interaction with Allison, worry creasing her brow. Mandy just rolls her eyes at Allison’s antics. She is well-aware I am capable of handling myself.

Grabbing Jaynie’s hand, Mandy mouths to me from behind Allison’s back, “You got this?”

I nod discreetly. Meanwhile, Allison continues to whine about how much she misses me. She misses our smoke breaks, and why don’t I talk to her more. I swear the girl’s a broken record.

I entertain a brief fantasy of pulling the scissors out from where they’re hidden—tucked in my sock under the leg of my jeans—and brandishing them in front of me like a sword. “
En garde
, bitch. Out of my way or blood shall be shed.”

I let out a chuckle. That’d get her moving, no doubt. But it’s only a fantasy. I need to stay calm and play the bimbo, as usual.

Folding my arms across my chest, knowing it will accentuate my pecs and arm muscles in the snug black tee I’m wearing, I smile at her. I am bigger and stronger than even a month ago, a benefit of the more-than-sufficient sustenance as of late, and it shows. Allison sure as hell takes note.

Playing right into my hands, she licks her lips. “Wow, Flynn, you look amazing. Have you secretly been lifting weights?”

I almost burst out laughing. Like all the manual labor I do—hauling and sawing large pieces of wood so we can make the crafts, lifting the shit that’s too heavy for the twins or the girls—isn’t enough.

I have Allison on the line. I just need to reel her in.

First, I make damn sure Jaynie and Mandy have gone in the house, especially Jaynie. After confirming the coast is clear, I turn my attention to Allison.

In a low, filled-with-the-promise-of-sex voice, I say, “Seems to me you’re the one who’s gone all the time these days. I’ve been right here, every day, same as always.”

Jutting out her hip, Allison pretends to pout. Please. It’s not working, but she sure thinks it is.

“Would you like for me to be home more often?” she coos. “If you want that, Flynn, I can make it happen. Just say the word.”

Hell, no
. Allison spending this much time away from the house has been the best thing to happen around here in a long time.

Time to tread carefully, as Allison has just placed a mine field before me.

“I doubt your boyfriend would like that.” I try to sound disappointed, yet accepting.

Allison leans in closer. “Can I tell you a secret, Flynn?”

I take a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Uh, sure.”

In a breathy whisper, she says, “Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun on the side. Who would need to know?” She shrugs. “With my mom away, you could come down to my room any night you want. And Flynn, I’d definitely make it worth your while.”

Playing along to gain more info, I ask, “What about the cameras?”

She straightens and sniffs with self-importance. Examining her nails, which match her outfit, she snips, “What about the cameras? They’re not a problem. I actually turned them off days ago, if you must know. I don’t have time to keep an eye on a hallway that’s empty except for when you guys go take a piss. But here’s the deal…” Her eyes scan up and down my body suggestively. “I’ll
keep
those cameras off indefinitely if you think you might actually come down to my room some night to visit me.”

She raises a questioning brow, and though there is no way in hell there will ever be a visit from me to Allison’s bedroom, I need her to believe it’s a possibility. Those fucking cameras must remain off. No watchful red eyes make life easier for all of us, particularly Cody. We’ll be able to sleep in the girls’ room all the time now. The twins remaining together at night means no more nightmares for the little man. He deserves a shot at some restful sleep. Leading Allison on is a small price to pay to make that happen.

Leaning toward a girl I want nothing more than to run the fuck away from, I whisper seductively in her ear, “Keep the cameras off and maybe”—I run my hand up her arm, and she lets out a little gasp—“just maybe, I’ll surprise you one night.”

I let my lips touch her neck, and she purrs, “Oh, Flynn. Please do.”

She’s so discombobulated that I’m able to slip past her, leaving her on the steps, no doubt wet and wanting for a night that will never come.

A few hours later, in the girls’ bedroom, Cody is getting his much-needed haircut.

“Mandy, Mandy, I can see now,” he marvels when Mandy’s done.

She snips a single straggler by his brow. “I bet you can, bud,” she says, laughing.

Jaynie and I are seated side-by-side on the edge of her bed, watching Mandy work her magic. Cody is perched on a stool in the middle of the room, his dark hair scattered on the floor beneath his dangling feet. Callie is seated on the floor in front of the stool.

She peers up at Cody with keen interest, and says, “Cody, you don’t look like me anymore. You look like
you
.”

Cody, uncertain fingers tugging at his new short-do, puffs out his lower lip. “I no want to not look like Callie.”

Mandy assures him, “You still look like your twin, sweetie. But now you look more like the boy you are.”

That makes him happy. “I
am
a boy,” he says proudly.

Callie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a boy. And I’m a girl. Big deal. Doesn’t change the fact that being a girl is still better.”

“Is not,” Cody counters.

“Is, too.”

“Okay, okay,” Mandy interjects. “Everyone is great—boy, girl, or space alien.”

“Who’s space alien?” Cody peers at the rest of us suspiciously.

“Nobody is an space alien, stupid,” Callie says.

And that’s when I jump in and diffuse a potentially volatile situation. “Hey, hey, what did we agree on about name-calling?”

“That it’s not nice,” Callie says.

“Exactly. So, tell your brother you’re sorry.”

“Sorry, Cody.”

Cody appears unaffected. He’s still fixated on the possibility that one of us may be an alien from another planet.

Mandy leans down, and I hear her whisper to Cody, “No one is an alien, okay?”

Cody nods. “Okay, good.”

She squeezes his shoulder as he jumps down from the stool. Then, brandishing the long-bladed metal scissors, Mandy says, “Who’s my next victim?”

Cody runs over to me. “Flynnie, Flynnie!” He pulls at my hand. “Flynnie next victim. He need a haircut, too.”

I’m hesitant, since, well, Mandy and sharp scissors, I don’t know. But the truth is that I like my hair a little long and on the scruffy side.

But when Jaynie leans toward me and says, “You
could
use a little trim,” I allow Cody to drag me off the bed and to the stool of doom.

“Not too much,” I warn Mandy as I reach back and protectively pat the strands of hair poking at the neckline of my tee.

Mandy smacks my hand away. “Give it a rest, Flynn. Getting your hair cut won’t kill you. Who do you think you are, anyway? Samson?”

“Who is Samson?” Cody immediately asks. “Space alien?”

“God help us,” I hear a too-cynical-for-her-years Callie mumble. She has moved to the space next to Jaynie on the bed, my vacated seat.

Cody is in his sister’s former spot in front of the stool. Peering down at him, I answer his question. “Samson wasn’t a space alien, little man.”

“There are no such things as aliens,” Callie chimes in, loudly, from over on the bed. “Quit asking about them, all right? You’re giving me a splitting headache.”
Kids
.

Cody ignores his sister’s rumblings and asks me again, “Who is Samson?”

“Nobody, bud,” I reply. I’m worried the story might upset him in some way, especially the haircut aspect.

But Mandy goes right ahead and tells him.
I give up
.

“Samson is a character from an old Bible story,” she says. “He was super strong,”—Cody’s eyes widen—“and his hair was the source of all his mighty strength.”

“What happen to him?” Cody asks.

Mandy sighs. She tilts my head forward. “Well, his girlfriend, this chick named Delilah, betrayed him. She allowed a bunch of bad guys to sneak in, and they chopped his hair off so they could get the jump on him.”

Cody swallows with an audible gulp. “Was he okay?”

“He was fine,” I interject.

Mandy smacks my arm. “Quit re-writing the tale, Flynn. Cody is old enough to hear the truth.”

“I want the truth, I want the truth,” Cody chants.

“I can’t fight you both,” I say, sighing.

As Mandy combs through the ends of my hair, she says, “Samson wasn’t fine, Cody. All his strength was gone, right along with his hair.”

Like a flash, Cody is up on his feet in an instant. Tugging my hand, he begs, “No get your hair cut, Flynn. You not be strong anymore.”

“See what you did,” I mutter under my breath to Mandy. “Told you to edit the story.”

Mandy crouches down next to Cody. “Sweetie, Flynn will be fine. It’s just an old Bible story.”

I chime in for good measure, “Yeah, it’s more like a fable, little man. Remember when we read the stories where each one had a lesson?”

“Like the one about the rabbit and the turtle?” Cody asks.

“Exactly like that one,” I say.

Cody is content with my explanation, but Callie, inquisitive girl that she is, can’t let it go. “What’s the moral of the Samson and Delilah story?”

“Don’t trust women,” I murmur facetiously.

Mandy smacks me across the head with a towel. “Don’t push it, Flynn. I have scissors in my hand, you know.”

She’s kidding, but I lean away, just in case. “It was a joke,” I insist.

“Ass,” she murmurs.

While Mandy and I continue to spar verbally, I overhear Jaynie telling Callie the moral of Samson’s story is to remember who you are and to not trust the wrong people for the wrong reasons. I don’t know if she has it right, but it sounds good to me.

When Mandy gets back to work on my hair, I relax. I feel cooler and better as clumps of light brown locks drift down to the floor.

“All done,” Mandy declares when she’s finished. She pushes me off the stool. “Off you go.”

“Okay, okay.”

Cody immediately has me flex, just to make sure I’m not any weaker. And then I have to pick him up and walk around the room with him perched on my shoulders. “See,” I say when I put him down. “All’s good.”

Cody nods. “Yep. Flynnie still strong.”

A few hours later, following haircut-time, and after I decide Cody and I may as well stay in the girls’ bedroom tonight since there are no cameras to worry about, I am lying on the floor, raking a hand through hair that hasn’t been this short in ages. Mandy did a great job, and I sure feel a lot better. Still, it’s an adjustment.

Suddenly, from up on the mattress, I hear Jaynie ask. “Flynn, are you still awake?”

I prop up on one elbow. “Yeah, I’m up. I thought you were sleeping, though.”

Resting her chin on the edge of the bed, she stares down at me. “I was,” she says. “Well, kind of.”

She stifles a laugh, and I ask, “What’s so funny?”

“You,” she replies, pointing. “Your hair is sticking up all over the top of your head in just about every direction. Were you messing with it?”

I nod, and she adds, “I want to feel it, Flynn, now that it’s so much shorter.”

I may not be Samson, but just like him, there is a woman in my life who’s definitely my weakness. Her name is Jaynie, though, not Delilah. Still, like Delilah, what Jaynie wants, Jaynie gets.

I sit up and lean my back against the bed. “Have at it,” I say over my shoulder.

“Not like that, Flynn.” I hear her scooting back toward the wall. “Come up here on the bed with me.”

Whoa
. I twist around until our eyes meet in the darkness. “What are you saying?” I ask.

“Just come up here and lay down next to me.” Her tone is matter-of-fact. “I want you to sleep in the bed with me tonight.”

I pause. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. We lay next to each other all the time out in the woods. What’s the difference?”

She has a point. But this
is
different. Sleeping in the same bed with Jaynie changes a lot of things. I mean, shit, her mattress is
really
narrow. Limbs are bound to touch and become entwined. I sleep in nothing but boxers, and Jaynie’s tiny tee and boy shorts may as well be nothing.