“My goodness, what happened here?” she asks, gesturing to the pile of bricks where the mailboxes stood.
“Just a little accident,” King says, sounding so unconcerned that you’d never know five minutes ago he looked like a bomb about to go off. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it taken care of.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Mrs. Darling says with a wave of her hand and a peel of laughter. “I was just worried about y’all. Everybody okay?”
“We’re just fine, thanks,” Royal says.
“That’s good,” she says. “I can’t imagine how I’d feel if my Devlin got in an accident. Good thing he’s such a safe driver. You can’t be too careful, especially with a car like that.”
Forgetting my manners, I gape at the lunatic. Okay, so I’m starting to see why he might have dated Redneck Barbie. His mom is a suburban housewife version, and I’d bet money her medicine cabinet could rival Mom’s.
“Need me to lend you a hand?” Devlin asks, smirking at us. “It’s not far. We can probably just push her up your driveway.”
“We got it,” Royal says, glaring daggers at our smug neighbor.
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Darling coos. “My Devlin’s happy to help, aren’t you, baby? He’s strong, too. But I bet you can see that.”
She laughs and bats at his arm in a way that’s just bordering on flirtatious.
Devlin works his jaw back and forth.
“Let me just hop in there and steer,” Mrs. Darling says, skirting around the Range Rover toward the driver’s seat.
“We don’t need to push it,” King says. “I’ll just park it at the end of our drive.”
The engine’s running, so he can steer us out of the ditch, but we’ll need new tires before we drive anywhere on those rims.
“Oh, boy,” Mrs. Darling says, bending over slowly to pick up a nail in the road. “Would you look at this? No wonder you got a flat.”
“Three flats,” Royal mutters, glaring at Devlin.
Devlin gazes back impassively.
“Some kids must have been playing out here,” Mrs. Darling says. “I’ll have to talk to the neighborhood watch about this. Imagine! Nails in the road. It’s a blessing y’all were going so slow. It could have been a real tragedy.”
I stare hard at Devlin, waiting for the slightest twitch to give him away, but he only watches, his expression serene, the afternoon sun gleaming on his golden hair like he’s every inch the angel his mother believes he is.
Royal circles the front of the car and cuts off Mrs. Darling, sliding into the driver’s seat. There’s no way he’s going to let this nutcase, or anyone else, drive his car. He pulls forward, bouncing over a few loose bricks and lumbering back onto the road. As he pulls off the road into our driveway, Mrs. Darling stares after him, absently smoothing her hands over her middle. I don’t miss the way she’s sucking in her belly and poking out her boobs, though.
“I’ve been meaning to pop by and say hello to your daddy all week, and this gives me just the excuse,” she says, turning and whisking the pie from my hands before beaming up at King. “I remember him from high school. He was quite the looker back then, just like you boys.”
Oh, god. I turn away to roll my eyes, only to be caught by Devlin Darling. Shit.
“You know you’re going to pay for this,” I mutter to him.
“For what?” he asks, his expression a complete blank, as if he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“You’re fucking with the wrong family,” I tell him. “And please keep your drunk mother away from my dad.”
His brows draw together and his lips tighten. At last, a reaction.
“I could say the same thing,” he grinds out. “Keep your lecherous dad away from my mother.”
“Well,” I say, adjusting my ponytail over my shoulder. “I guess that’s one thing we can agree on. Our families don’t mix.”
“Deal.”
Royal has returned from his car, and he frowns when he sees me talking to Devlin. “Come on, Crys,” he says, tucking a protective arm around me and steering me away.