Rather than admitting that and looking like a douchebag, I fake it. “Oh, yeah, duh. Evan. Your brother.” I slam the heel of my hand to my forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot you two were brothers. Sorry. Ditz move.”

Anders totally buys my bullshit, grinning as he gives his brother’s shoulder a little shake. Evan, on the other hand, reads right through my shit and stares me down hard. I swear to God, he doesn’t even blink. It’s freakin’ unnatural and makes me so uncomfortable I actually contemplate rolling under the tent to hide.

The tension shatters when Anders claps his hands together. “All right, I have to go eat some pie.” He glances at me. “You’re not taking off yet, are you?”

I want to, but since my dad hasn’t come out yet, I can’t. “Not yet.”

“Good.” He backs toward the entrance of the tent. “I want to get your number before you take off. My phone isn’t on me, but I can get it out of my car afterward.”

Smiling, I watch him walk back into the tent, shamelessly checking out his ass. Normally, this is when I’d do my heck-to-the-yeah dance, but I decide to refrain and spare Evan the pain of having to witness it.

“So, Anders is your brother, huh?” I say to Evan after a beat or two of silence goes by. “No wonder I thought I recognized you when I bumped into you in the city. You took off so fast I didn’t get a chance to put two and two together.”

Evan relaxes a bit. “Yeah, sorry about that. Trevor’s kind of a handful. He’s a cool kid and everything, but he can be intense.”

“Yeah, I bet.” I glance at Carrie Lynn who is still gawking at me with a big smile on her face, then force myself to keep the conversation going, knowing the moment I stop talking, she’ll bombard me. “Where is the Spawn of Satan, anyway?”

Evan shrugs. “Probably with his mom.”

“Is she here? Should I be worried I’m about to be attacked by a public artist again?” I half joke, but I am a bit worried. I really like the pants I’m wearing.

He chuckles, and I decide I like his laugh. It’s deep and husky and lights up his eyes. “No, Kat lives in the city. And the Spawn of Satan lives with her, so your pants aren’t in danger.” I must look confused because he adds, “I saw you glance down at them when you thought he was here.”

“They’re my favorite,” I admit. “They make my butt look fantastic.”

He smashes his lips together, his gaze wandering downward. I consider turning around and busting out my best Beyoncé move, but decide that might be too much for a guy I just met.

“Do you live in the city, too?” I assume he does, since his kid lives there. It makes sense, too, since he’s the only other person here, besides me, who isn’t rockin’ bitchin’ 80s attire. “I’m so jealous. I’ve only been away for four hours, and I already miss it.”

His brows knit. “No … I live here.”

He must be divorced then. Or he never married the mom of his child.

“Oh, so you were just out there to see Trevor. Got it.”

Confusion laces his expression, but then something clicks. “Trevor’s my nephew, Lex. His mom is my older sister. I drive into the city sometimes to do stuff for my business, and she always ropes me in to babysitting. You’d think I’d learn my lesson and tell her no, but”—he shrugs—“I’ve always been a pushover.”

The fact that he called me Lex throws me off. Only people I’m close to call me that. Maybe it was just a coincidence, or maybe I really do know him and I am just too ditzy to place him.

I rack my brain for someone I went to high school with who was known as a pushover, like Evan said he is. All that comes to mind, though, is Toby, Beg Like a Dog, Shoby. He got the nickname when he got down on his hands and knees and begged like a dog in front of the entire school, all so a girl would go out with him. A little strange, especially when they were dating and the girl would randomly command him to do strange things. Toby bark. Toby sit. Toby lick my feet and tell me I’m pretty. The two of them dated all through high school, and I heard they got married a couple of years ago and now own a pet store downtown.

“You still have no clue who I am.” Evan’s voice breaks through my thoughts.

“I …” I feel like an asshole. “I’m so sorry. I wish I did, but I can’t figure it out. I didn’t really hang out with the popular kids, so I’m guessing you did, and maybe that’s why. Please, don’t hate me.”

He assesses me until a speaker to our right buzzes, and a voice comes on to announce that the pie contest results are in.

“Gather around, everyone,” the man says. “It’s time to get this shindig started and get high on some pie.”

“I wasn’t popular, not even close.” Evan heads for the entrance of the tent. “And I don’t hate you, not at all.”

The way he says it, as if we shared some sort of connection, drives me absolutely mad, I tell you! Come on, Lexi; figure it out!

“I’ll figure this out, Sexy Stranger,” I say. “I’m starting an investigation as soon as I get home, and let me tell you; I’m like freakin’ Veronica Mars, dude.”

He chuckles, shaking his head before ducking into the tent.

I stroll away, smiling and vowing to myself that I’ll figure this mystery out.

Chapter 7

I make it a whole ten feet from the tent before Carrie Lynn darts toward me, flailing her arms in the air.

“Lexi! Yoo-hoo! I need to talk to you.”

I flip a U-turn and scramble in the opposite direction.

“Lexi Ashford, are you running away from me?” A high-pitched laugh mixed with a squeal bursts from her lips. “You’re so funny! I forgot how funny you are.”

I veer right, swinging around to the back of the tent, quickening my pace to a sprint. I push past a few people who say my name and ask what I’m doing, but I just wave at them as I round the tent, coming up on the other side. When I’ve almost done a full circle, I sprint like hell for the parking lot.

I parked at the very back, which leaves rows and rows of cars to hide me. I stuff my hands into my pocket to dig my keys out, but I can’t find them. So, I search my jacket pockets and pat my back pockets, but nope. No keys.

I look through the car window, and sure enough, there they are, hanging from the ignition. I cast a glance around the parking lot, searching for a head of teased, blonde hair.

When I don’t spot it anywhere, I relax a smidgeon and think of a game plan. Pick the lock? Sure, I’ll get right on that. I could go ask my dad if he by chance has my spare key in his car, but that means going back to the tent. The sunroof is halfway open, but the gap is a little on the small side. I could just stand here. I mean, it’s a warm day and everyone has migrated to the tent.

“Hey, Lexi. Carrie Lynn’s looking for you,” Davis, Carrie Lynn’s younger brother, approaches my car with his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans.

“Oh, is she?” I play dumb. “I actually have to take off. I have a couple of things to do.” I prop my boot on the tire and hoist myself onto the hood of the car. Scaling up the window, I sit down on the roof and dangle my legs through the sunroof. It’s a snug fit, and my ass gets stuck.

“Do you need some help?” Davis asks, restraining a laugh.

“Nope. I got it.” Suck it in. Suck it in. I hop up and down, trapping my breath in my chest as I shimmy my hips—

I slip through and my foot slips off the console. I fall backward, kicking the horn and banging my head on the backseat. I hurry and sit up, smoothing my hair into place.

“Are you okay?” Davis peers through the window at me.

I clumsily climb into the driver’s seat. “Yep! Just great.” I roll down the window. “Davis, as one fellow nerd to another, can you do me a solid?”

He arches a brow at me, eyeing me over with distrust. “Since when am I a nerd?”

“Remember when you used to wear those goggles to school … You know what, never mind. Just please don’t tell your sister where I am. It would really mean a lot to me.”