6. Tee
Tee
Present
“ W hat are you frowning at?”
I purse my lips at Zee’s question. I know her attention is split between me and her current task—changing out the sites for her insulin pump and CGM—but that she can sense my discomposure is irksome.
“We didn’t talk to Cody in high school, did we?”
Her head tips back. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Cody?”
I nod.
“High school?”
Exasperated, I retort, “Yes, Zee. Cody. Your brother-in-law. High school.”
“No. He was popular,” she reasons with a wry smile.
“We were too.”
“Maybe we were at the top of the tree in the unpopular crowd…”
“Hey!”
“You know it’s true. I was too gloomy and you were, well, you.”
“It’s a good thing I know you love me being me or I’d be offended.”
A smile dances on her lips as she pours rubbing alcohol onto a small cotton pad. The stench of it filters through the air, but I can honestly say I’ve missed it.
When she moved back to our hometown, I had to live without her for months. That sucked. See, me being me is more than a whacko sense of humor. I’m a protective person by nature, so her living thousands of kilometers away was killing me.
If I got an alert about her blood sugar, I couldn’t stomp into her bedroom and force-feed her gummy bears. No, I had to text her. I had to wait for her to respond. I had to spend a minute wondering if she’d passed out. If she was dying.
Melodramatic, but hey, when I love, I love hard.
“What makes you ask?”
“I dunno. There’s something…” I pucker my brow. “He reminds me of someone.”
“Who?”
“If I knew that then I wouldn’t be all pensive.”
“Is this you being pensive? I thought it was you attempting to be mysterious.”
Her glib smile has me rolling my eyes. “I don’t have to ‘attempt’ anything. I am mysterious. Anyway, it’s literally my job to bug you.”
“If I’m your boss?—”
“More like my sugar momma.”
“How am I your sugar momma?”
“Maybe Colt’s my sugar daddy,” I muse. “Though, it’s all G-rated. I mean, he pays my bills, I eat his food, and—” I click my fingers. “I changed my mind.”
“About?”
“I’m not your sugar baby. I’m your emotional support animal.”
A hoot escapes her. “That is exactly what you are.”
“I know. Damn good at it too, if I do say so myself. I know your blood sugar better than you do, and I always carry snacks—I’m like a walking vending machine. I also make you laugh and I’m with you constantly.”
“I should probably pay you,” she teases. “Such a stellar emotional support animal deserves payment.”
“Hey, I don’t have to talk to that dickhead Jacobie anymore—” The conductor from hell. “The only time I’m in the kitchen is to pester you and to grab food I don’t have to cook, and I get to live with you again. This is my version of heaven.”
“My version of purgatory,” she says with a grin.
“Pfft.”
“When is all your stuff due to arrive?”
“End of this week.”
“Surprised you haven’t gone to visit your folks yet.”
“Wanted everything to be a fait accompli before I told them I lived here now.”
“Wise move.”
“I’m the wisest witch in the West,” I concur, snagging some of the trail mix spilling out of a bag Zee left on the table.
“There’s a classified ad in the Herald that might suit you.”
Both Zee and I grow still at the new voice.
The man in question.
Cody’s always hovering, and I’m not sure how he is when he has a job and stuff, but it’s one of the reasons I brought him up with Zee.
He’s…
I don’t want to say weird. Because I don’t think the Korhonens have it in them to be weird. Even Callan, the geek, is pretty cool despite sucking at the video games he challenges me to play.
“What kind of classified ad? ‘Sexy beast wanted?’”
Something flashes in his eyes. It’s not anger but neither is it amusement. “I’m not sure what type of paper you think the Herald is…”
“Since Harper Grahame took over from her granddad,” Zee inserts, “it’s definitely gotten raunchier. ‘Firefighters Save Kitten.’ ‘Jocelyn Makes Pastries Shaped Like Wiener… Dogs.’”
I flutter my lashes. “Pigeon Creek is turning into a den of depravity for sure.”
Zee snorts, but Cody grinds out, “The high school is looking for a music teacher.”
Frowning at him, I demand, “What’s bitten you in the ass?”
“Excuse me?”
I waft a hand. “You’re all growly.”
“I am not all growly.”
“You were,” Zee agrees with me—see, that’s why she’s my BFF.
“I was not.”
“You’re doing it again,” I point out. “Note to Cody, when your voice drops three octaves—” Three sexy octaves at that. “—then you’re being growly.”
His mouth tightens as he walks over to me, dropping the paper on the counter on his way to the refrigerator. I can see a job listing has been circled by him, but I push it aside.
“Did you know there are forty-two fighter pilots in the CAF, Zee?”
Her brows lift. “I didn’t but?—”
“Did you know that, Cody?”
“Seeing as I was one of them?—”
“Did you know a guy called Butch?” I interrupt.
“Sure did.” He grunts. “Real asshole.”
The bitch of it is I want to defend the sender of my ‘Dear John’ letter, which tells me the patriarchy has its claws in me deeeeep.
The urge to snap back at him is real, but Zee comes to my rescue. “Do you think you could get his contact details?”
I sniff. “I don’t want his contact details.”
“Then why did you ask?” Zee whispers at me.
Ignoring her, I declare, “I hate kids.” I toss my hair over my shoulder. “Besides, I might be a musical genius worthy of Beethoven?—”
Zee snorts.
“—better even than Mozart himself, but I don’t have a bachelor’s in whatever horrific degrees are required of teachers.”
“Why do you hate kids?”
I glare at him, suddenly aware that he’s standing really close to me.
When did that happen?
And why does he smell so freakin’ good that I want to lick him?
It’s like sexy fruit. And honestly, I didn’t know fruit could be sexy. There’s a hint of apple and lime and then salt, which shouldn’t have a scent in my opinion, and then there’s this hint of warmth. Like a musk.
I bet his sweat tastes better than Zee’s cookies.
(Ooooh, boy, where the frickety frack did that thought come from?)
This near, I can see a jaw forged from iron it’s so damn stubborn and that his hazel eyes are more blue than green. I take note of the silvery flecks at the widow’s peak that frames his face and also in his trimmed sideburns.
I knew Cody Korhonen was H.O.T.
I knew he was fine.
I knew he was sexy.
But I didn’t know that I wanted to scoop him up like he was ice cream and have him melt over me.
When his pupils dilate then turn into pinpricks, when his Adam’s apple bobs, when his lips flatten slightly, I see it all.
“Because kids make a lot of noise that isn’t music,” Zee answers on my behalf, though when I look at her, I take note of her raised brow as she studies the pair of us.
He grunts then steps aside, and I curse myself because I want to trail after him à la Winnie the Pooh who’s caught a whiff of honey.
“There’s a job at The Coffee Shop too.”
“Why, Cody, it’s almost as if you think my best friend needs a job,” Zee snipes.
He shrugs. “Won’t you get bored?”
“Only boring people get bored,” I answer, though I admit I’m touched by Zee’s defense.
I don’t need it though. Some people might feel like a burden, not me. Anyway, what burden can I place on a family of billionaires? I might eat a lot, but enough to eat them out of house and home? Nah.
My focus lingers on him as he reaches for the coffee pot. “Do I have what it takes for the barista job at The Coffee Shop? You can judge my skills because I made that.” When he hesitates and puts the jug down, I frown. “If you don’t want any, can I have a refill, please? I’m almost out.”
His eyes narrow but he obliges, then he dips his chin at us both. “See you at supper.”
Zee watches him go. “What crawled up his butt?”
“Last night, while I was whooping Callan on the PS5, he told me Cody has nightmares.”
“Was that why you went easy on him?”
I shrug. “I didn’t.”
“You sit on a throne of lies.”
Hiding my smile behind my coffee mug, I take a deep sip.
“Do you think he dislikes you or something? Is that why you were asking if we knew him back in school?”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t remember us doing anything to piss him off. He was a Korhonen, and we weren’t.”
Korhonen = cool as fuck (adj.)
“Colt hasn’t said anything about your stay here causing problems. But why would he? We only get together for supper. You’re annoying, but there’s no need for him to want you out. I can talk to?—”
“No. You don’t have to mediate on my behalf. I don’t think Cody dislikes me.” A man who looks at me the way he does certainly isn’t thinking about dislike. Not that I tell Zee that. “I just think he doesn’t trust me.”
“That’s worse!”
“Nah.” I smile at her. “You forget, he’s ex-RCAF.”
“You and soldiers.” She groans.
I blow her a raspberry even though she’s partially right and partially wrong.
Butch might have broken soldiers for me.
Just something else to lay at his door…