Free Hide & Seek by Aimee Laine

let’s look at the flip side. If they did find each other, they realized what we already know … the stakes are too high. Give up before it gets trickier than it already is.”
    “I don’t want to.” Tripp shook his head. “I honestly don’t know why—”
    “Maybe because you like a challenge too much. I mean, you did steal my necklace … twice. Clearly you like the unlawfulness of your gift. What happens, then, if we figure out how to beat it? You going to give up part of your life and settle? You could have just done that with your beach girl.”
    Trip banked the groan. He’d thought of that issue, too. He’d run through them all. Like Ian had said, he had a shot that no one else had. “If we can beat this, hopefully it means we have a shot at true happiness. And if we can’t, I hope we’ll each use it for good, not evil—at least against one another.”
    A slight grin accented Lexi’s features. “You’re serious about this?”
    “Completely.”
    “He is, too. I heard the whole plan on the way down from New York and at every pit stop.”
    “I thought you were sleeping, Ian,” Lexi said.
    “I would have been if you two hadn’t started to agree with each other. I figured you’d fight for a minute, hit the silent treatment, and I’d be down for the count. But, oh no, you talk reasonably and respectfully. Shit. You two? You’re damn made for each other.”
    • • •
    Lexi pulled into the long curvy drive, passing the old farmhouse mailbox with the American flag tucked behind it and the watering can at its foothold.
    “This is like an Americana painting,” Tripp said. “But it’s in desperate need of fixing up.”
    “It’s my favorite of all houses.”
    “The way you say that sounds like you’re madly in love with it. Why haven’t you bought it?”
    “Hasn’t felt … right. The owners are in no rush. They love their home, and they’ve said a thousand times they’ll only sell to the right person.” I’ll be damned if it’s not going to be me.
    “Why didn’t you ask them for yourself?” He touched her hand on the stick shift.
    “Like I said—”
    “Wasn’t the right time. I got ya.”
    Gravel crunched under the wheels, blowing up a fog of dust along the unpaved driveway. Marge sat outside on the front porch, in her rocking chair, a pair of Basset Hounds keeping her company. Their long ears dragged along the ground as they shuffled their way toward Lexi’s car.
    From within the house, George, somewhat overweight from all of Marge’s home-cooked meals, waddled out and took the second chair. Lexi found them in exactly the same spots every time she arrived—no matter the time of day.
    At the car’s front fender, Lexi knelt to rub Buster’s and Moxie’s backs. “Ooh, how are you guys today?”
    The dogs licked her hands. Moxie gave one quick bark at the question as if she had to answer, but Buster leaned into Lexi’s palm. The constant swish of their tails built up a bigger cloud of dust right around them.
    Lexi waved with her free hand, scratching with the other. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Fergs!”
    “Afternoon, Lexi.” The squeak of Marge’s rocker, slow and steady, reminded Lexi of times gone by—when folks sat outside and enjoyed their time and didn’t rush from one place to the next.
    “Come on, Tripp. Let me introduce you.”
    Old, handmade lace curtains graced every window. The scents of fresh cut grass and sunshine, if Lexi could classify sun as a smell, followed the breeze. She stopped, closed her eyes, letting the moment engulf her. Relax, Lex, this is your house. The time will come.
    Lexi shook off the emotion. “How are you today, Mr. Fergs?” She leaned down to him, offered a quick hug and repeated the same with Marge.
    “I’m good, Miss Lexi. How about you?”
    “I’m good, too.” She turned to Tripp. “I’d like to introduce you to Tripp Fox. He’s the … interested party I told you about on the phone.”
    Marge positioned her hands on the