Chapter 12 Braedyn
brAEDYN
“Why do those cookies look like boy boobies?” Owen asked, coming up beside me at the kitchen counter and studying the cutouts that looked like male torsos.
My lips twitched. My boy and I had a unique relationship—likely a touch more honest than some parents would be with an eight-year-old. But we’d sort of grown up together. I’d had to learn on the job with limited people to ask for advice.
My parents had kicked me out the moment I told them I was pregnant. They didn’t want a damn thing to do with a daughter who was having a baby outside of marriage. And Vincent had all but crushed my world when I told him. Nova was the only person on the planet who stuck by me.
The familiar ache took root in my chest, and I laid a hand over my ribs and the phoenix tattoo there. The one that was all about hope for me and her. That we would make it out of the ashes.
“Mom?” Owen pressed, his tiny brow furrowing.
“Sorry,” I said, calling on the smile I needed. “I’m in an icing haze.”
I set the piping bag down and bent to tickle Owen’s sides. He squealed and danced away, bringing Yeti to investigate.
“You want to help?” I asked him.
“Only if I get to eat the leftover icing,” Owen hedged.
My kid was smart, and he wasn’t above a good haggle.
I put my hands on my hips. “One spoonful.”
“Two.”
I sighed. “You drive a hard bargain.”
He grinned wide.
“Hands,” I instructed, sending Owen to the sink to wash up.
“You never said what’s up with the boobies.”
I choked on a chuckle, picking up my icing bag. “I’m making apology cookies.”
Owen quickly dried his hands and climbed onto the stool for a better vantage point. “Boy boobies. Birds. Balloons. A house…” A ridiculous smile spread across Owen’s face. “Is that a poop emoji cookie?”
“Maybe…” This was probably teaching my kid awful things. Like potty humor. Oh well.
“Bro, I gotta have some poop emoji cookies for camp.”
“Brooooo,” I said, drilling a finger into his side. “I’ll save you one, but the rest belong to someone else.”
“You gotta apologize to someone’s boobies?” he inquired.
A laugh bubbled out of me. “Kinda.”
Owen studied the cookies, not missing a trick. “You gotta apologize to Mr. Dex’s boobies?”
“I guess I do.” And now, I owed the apology twice over, since I’d doused him with a water balloon.
As if Owen had summoned my hot, grumpy neighbor, headlights swept across the front of our cabin, settling in front of Cabin Three. A tumble of nerves rolled through me, snippets of today’s earlier conversation at the Compass meeting echoing in my head.
For the fifty-millionth time, I thought about googling Dex, finding out what Holly had been talking about when it came to his past and father. But it seemed unfair. I wouldn’t want someone glancing at single moments of my past and deciding who I was because of them.
And I wasn’t sure Dex’s arrest record mattered. If he’d worked for the FBI, he couldn’t be that much of a risk. And I needed someone who could wade into the gray for me—needed someone who wasn’t afraid of the shadows.
“You missed a spot,” Owen informed me, breaking into my swirling thoughts.
I tapped a finger on his nose. “Thank you, my sous chef.”
“I’d rather be your taste-tester.”
Grabbing the white icing, I deposited some onto a spoon. “For your troubles.”
“Finally.”
“You helped for like two seconds,” I argued.
Owen grinned. “I got high rates ’cause I’m a genius.”
I chuckled and began plating the cookies on one of the older platters the cabin had been stocked with. “You are pretty dang smart.”
Yeti let out a bark as I finished up.
“No frosting for you, my girl. But you can have a cookie, too.” I reached for the jar on the counter. Turning to face her, I made a series of hand gestures.
She instantly sat and then balanced on her hind legs, crossing her front paws.
I made the release command and tossed her the cookie. “Such a good girl.”
A few lights went on in the cabin next door, and I swallowed hard. Now or never.
Washing my hands, I glanced at Owen. “I’m going to run next door to give Mr. Dex the cookies. I’ll lock the door after me. Don’t answer for anyone but me. Yeti will stay with you.”
Owen frowned. “I wanna go over to Mr. Dex’s.”
“Maybe next time.”
He studied me for a long moment. “Adult talk?”
I wrapped an arm around my kid. “Yup. We gotta talk about the real boring stuff like taxes and turnips.”
Owen’s face screwed up. “Gross.”
I laughed. “Just trying to save you pain and suffering, kiddo.” I snatched the plate and my keys. “Be back soon. I have my phone.”
Owen had one of those kids’ phones that could only call out to approved numbers and 911. He’d had it since Nova disappeared. I wanted to be able to get ahold of him at any time.
“Gonna play my Switch,” he grumbled, heading for the couch.
I gave Yeti another hand signal, along with a command in French, calling for a loose guard. She wouldn’t attack anyone who came into the house unless provoked, but she also wouldn’t let anyone get close to Owen.
“Don’t set anything on fire,” I called as I headed out.
“You never want me to have any fun!” Owen shouted back.
I laughed as I locked up and headed for Cabin Three. Each step wound my nerves tighter and tighter, as if they were a rope and I were being slowly strangled.
I slowed as I reached the bottom porch step and stared up at the cabin. Maybe this was dumb. Monumentally stupid. The last thing I needed was to get in trouble for some sort of illegal computer move.
But then I pictured Nova—the way she was the day she disappeared. Her cheeks flushed pink from our hike and her eyes a stormy gray. The way they lit up when she teased. So full of life. An infinite future in front of her.
She’d have done anything for me. And I’d do the same for her.
I climbed the stairs, and the door opened before I reached the top. But not before I noticed the camera tucked into the eaves of the overhang. There wasn’t one of those at my house, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Dex had installed it.
He leaned against the doorjamb, making his dark-gray tee pull taut against his chest. “Yes, Hellion?”
One corner of my mouth kicked up at the new nickname. “Stalking me through the windows?”
Dex’s gaze flicked up to the eaves. “I have a motion detector. Lets me know when there are intruders on my property.”
I let out a soft huff of breath and held up the platter. “Do intruders bring cookies?”
“Depends. Are they poisoned?”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped free. “Damn. I should’ve thought of that.”
Curiosity won out because Dex leaned over the plate. Confusion quickly swept over his face. “A torso, which is kind of creepy, I might add. Birds. A house. Balloons. And smiling shits?”
I beamed up at him. “An apology for your absolutely worstest day, for rubbing it in at the Boot, and for accidentally exploding a water balloon all over you.”
Dex’s lips fluttered, bringing my gaze down to them. The action made me realize just how full they were. He suddenly lost the battle, and a smile overtook his stubbled face. It changed everything about the man.
It put light behind those dark-hazel eyes. It transformed his face from scary hot to devastatingly gorgeous. And something about it made me want to lean just a little closer.
“Bird shit apology cookies,” Dex said, humor lacing his words.
I shrugged, struggling to reel in my reaction to the man opposite me. “Might as well make the apology personal.”
He stared down at the plate for a long moment. “I owe you an apology, too. I was a grumpy bastard when we had our run-in.”
“And after,” I chided.
Dex chuckled softly, the sound skating over my skin and eliciting a pleasant shiver.
“And after. I’m sorry about that.” He took the plate of cookies. “Thank you for these.”
I nodded, twisting my fingers in front of me. Suddenly, I didn’t have the first clue how to segue into what I wanted to ask. Hey, I heard you’re a supersecret computer hacker. Want to break into parts of the internet that could get you arrested? I wasn’t sure cookies bought me that much goodwill.
Dex frowned. It was the scowl I’d grown used to with him, but there was also a hint of something I swore was concern lining his face. “Did you need something else?”
I sucked in a breath. “I heard you might be good with computers and wondered if I could get your help with something.”
Tension wove through Dex’s muscles, erasing all the ease that had come with that beautiful smile. “Who told you that?”
I twisted my fingers tighter, all but cutting off the blood supply. “Um, Roger from the sheriff’s department, kind of. And then—”
“Nosy bastard,” Dex muttered.
“He was trying to help. I’ve figured out a lot on my own, but tech has never been my strong suit. Owen helps me nine times out of ten—”
“Owen helps?”
“He might be eight, but he’s good with just about every device known to man—”
“Hellion?”
My gaze jerked up to his face. “Yes?” There was something about Dex giving me a nickname.
It had an intimacy to it, even though we didn’t know the first thing about each other.
It set me on edge. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny I loved that he’d given me a moniker with a ferocity to it—something I so desperately needed.
Dex’s gaze skimmed over my face, assessing. “What do you need help with?”
I squeezed my fingers even tighter. “My best friend. She’s missing.”