15. Tee
Tee
A part of me wonders if I’m the only one tied to reality, which for someone like me, who really isn’t tethered to the humdrum of everyday life, is a whole welter of an experience.
(Is this, le gasp , what it feels like to be normal?)
“I’m fine, Colt. We’ll talk later. I’m fine ,” Zee repeats, but her tone’s frosty.
Apparently, Zee didn’t Google the Korhonen brothers either. It’s almost like they didn’t know search engines were a thing or something.
Still, much as I hate this being normal stuff, Zee’s inadvertent breakdown in the store and some out-of-the-blue insulin management leads to us heading to Cody’s ride and her trying to get off the phone with Colt.
Sitting in the back of Cody’s cop car is an unexpected perk.
There’s a grill and everything, and I can’t leave the back seat without him opening the door for me.
(Too cool.)
Especially as I didn’t get arrested and break my parents’ or Nonna’s hearts in the process.
With Zee facing reality, a reality she’s been staring down the barrel of for months without realizing it, I sigh once she disconnects the call. “I blame myself.”
“Huh?” Cody ceases side-eyeing Zee and twists back to frown at me.
Man, he’s pretty.
When focus isn’t incoming and he’s still studying me, waiting for me to finish my verbal guilt trip, I tug on the purple fluorite pendant I’m wearing, hoping it’ll purify my mind.
It has its work cut out for it—nothing about Cody, annoying or not, triggers pure thoughts…
Still, perhaps it does stimulate my third eye chakra because I reason, “I should have approached this conversation sooner.” I bite my lip, well aware of how selfish I’ve been. There I was in NYC, depressed and shit, while my BFF had no idea the sharks were circling her. “I should have warned you, Zee.”
“No, I’m a big girl. I...” She scrubs a hand over her face. “I was slow on the uptake and I did my level best to ignore everything Korhonen for too long.”
At Cody’s perplexed frown, I defend, “I think you were too busy falling in love with your husband and working out how not to have to go through IVF rather than that, but hey, you watch your cookie account take off!”
“I don’t want it to.”
(Honestly.)
I tut. “Zee, don’t be melodramatic. It’s never a bad thing to have money.”
“If my cookies go viral?—”
( Do not laugh. )
“—then I want it to be because they’re damn good. Not because I’m Colt’s wife. Anyway, I don’t need the money. My whole salary goes into savings, and Colt pays for everything else. I haven’t dipped my hand into my bank account since we married. I’ve never been as financially secure as I am right now.”
“Look at it this way, you can save for the triplets’ college fund.”
She glowers at me. “This isn’t funny, Tee!”
“It isn’t, but you are.” I grin. Since she became Mrs. Korhonen, she’s a real drama queen. As I wonder if there’s a crystal for that, I chide, “Come on, Zee. We’ll rock this because you never leave the ranch without me anyway, so we both get to have hottie bodyguards.” I lean forward. “Maybe I’ll marry one of them!”
She groans.
“Thought you were going on a date tonight,” Cody inserts, but for some reason, his tone’s grim.
“I can cancel. Zee needs me.”
“No, it’s fine. I-I need to talk to Colt about... everything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course,” she snaps. “Look, you have a nice time and you can tell me everything about it. Take my mind off stuff.”
“If I’d realized… I made the arrangement before the whole world, as you guys knew it, shuffled off its axis.”
“I know.” Her jaw works. “What time is this date? Are you going to be safe? You’re?—”
“I’ll be fine. No one’s interested in me. And...” I check my cell. “It’s in a half hour.”
“Then go. Are you wearing that dress you bought today?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you need to use my card? You can get a hotel room or something to change?”
“It’s fine, Ms. Moneybags. I’ll use a restroom. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“I’m positive. I have to be.” Her shoulders hunch, making me feel worse about abandoning her, but I know she’s right—this is a conversation she needs to have with Colt.
“Why hasn’t Colt brought this up with you is your first question,” I prompt.
“Probably was waiting for the right time,” Cody answers before opening his door and climbing out of the vehicle so he can open mine.
When I’m allowed out, I round the trunk, head to her side, and crouch in front of it once it’s open too.
I snag her hands. “Everything will be fine. You’ll get your revenge on Pigeon Creek, and the whole country will know you make boss-ass sugar cookies and that Colt’s no longer the world’s hottest bachelor because he’s found his big fat HEA in the form of you.”
Her throat bobs. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
“What if... I’m not fancy, Tee. Not like they are. Grand-mère taught us... but nothing...” She releases a breath. “Cameras and journalists and... I thought it was a couple invitations then I’d go back to my everyday life.”
“And you will,” Cody inserts. “We’ve been lax with security because Callan has the homestead hooked up like Fort Knox. Despite the pictures, we do stay under the radar. Now that that’s changing, we’ll adapt.
“Admittedly, Clyde hasn’t helped the situation, and then there’s Cole. He should probably have some security too. We don’t live in a nice world, Zee. Cole might like to think we live in a bubble, and sure enough, Pigeon Creek’s plenty safe, but who knows when that’ll change?”
“Callan doesn’t live in a bubble,” I point out.
(Baby Cowboy might give Parker a run for her money with how often he leaves the ranch, but there’s a difference between being terrified of stepping out the door and hating people in general.)
“Callan’s freaked out about a fire he doesn’t remember,” is Cody’s grim retort. “He’s haunted by the horrific truth of how the richest man in town could beat his wife and almost kill her and get away with it. No one ever asked. No one cared. Until she took off to spare herself from death and then everyone was up in our business about how she was a shit mom. She wasn’t. Clyde’d have killed her, but she was the bad guy.” His tone is firm but relatively calm considering the subject. I notice the tick in his jaw though. “And then there’s the fact that our beloved sperm donor apparently killed some kid from town and had a bunch of the cops in his back pocket. So yeah, bet your damn ass Callan’s paranoid.”
“We didn’t mean to upset you, Cody,” Zee whispers.
“Who’s upset?” he asks, his voice free from inflection.
Zee appears to take him at his word. I mean, I know she’s smart, but that she does has me questioning her intelligence because Cody is the opposite of fine.
“You should get going, Tee.”
I shove a second pack of trail mix at her. “Don’t think I won’t be checking up on you from afar, Zee.”
She huffs out a laugh. “You drive me crazy in the best possible way. Thank you for today.”
“What? Spending someone else’s money and choosing a wardrobe that I can steal from you at any time? I’m one-hundred-percent heart.”
Her brow flutters. “Jesus, you’re right. You’ll fit into those clothes now. How much weight did you drop while I was away?!”
“Too much,” I say lightly. “But don’t worry, only the tops will fit me before long. I’m on a program called ‘eat everything Mrs. Abelman puts in front of me.’ It’s working.”
Cody snorts. “Been on that program almost my whole life.”
“Don’t you look good on it, soldier,” I purr, ignoring Zee’s widening eyes. With that, I shoot up and tap my knuckles on the roof of the car. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Which means grand theft auto is off the table? Gee, what a shame.”
I grin at my best friend, wink at Cody, then sashay to the trunk, which he pops for me so I can snag my carrier bag.
Before I can, however, he’s there. Looming. At least, that’s how I’d describe it.
It’s not because he’s freakishly tall (that can’t be good for his joints), but it’s his whole moody aura.
You’d be forgiven for thinking that Cody was relatively sanguine, but he’s not. He’s melancholic through and through. Sure, he might be quick to join in whatever the family’s doing and he doesn’t shy away from conversation, but I can read him like he’s sheet music.
“You’re taking up too much space,” I grumble.
“Sorry about that. Shall I put a pause on Mrs. Abelman’s nutrition plan?”
My lips quirk. “Not sure you could spare any pounds. They appear to be in all the right places.”
Even I’m taken aback at the flirty note to my voice.
Yet, he doesn’t roll with it. Instead, he bats it away with a concerned, “How are you getting home tonight?”
“That will be tomorrow’s problem.”
His scowl makes an appearance. “I’ll come and pick you up.”
“No, I’m intending on ending the night in someone else’s bed, Cody. I don’t need...”
Huh.
Maybe that would be hot. Him glowering at me while my date eats me out.
Filing that fantasy away for the next time I need to rub one out, I mutter, “I’ll get the bus and then a taxi to Pigeon Creek.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Who do you think you are? My daddy?”
Suddenly, all the air’s choked out of the very minimal space between us because that looming thing he does, well, he doubles down. My head’s tipped back and I’m staring into his eyes. Eyes that... Wow, they’re pretty.
Like the fluorite pendant I’m wearing, which makes no sense because his eyes aren’t purple, but sue me.
“Someone has to watch out for you.”
“Someone? Been looking out for me and Zee since we left home, bud,” I rasp, though I’m not offended.
I mean, I’d be crazy to be.
Sure, I’m a modern woman and all that jazz, but having a dude like this one watch out for me could come in handy if I get a stalker.
Or if I need help bringing in shopping.
Or if I need to change a tire. Not that I have a car, but it’s good for a woman to plan ahead.
A soft hum escapes me. It drifts into a longer note then cuts off when I realize what I did.
The prospect of Cody with a hydraulic jack and a lug wrench has another couple notes falling free.
“That’s pretty.”
I blink at him. “Huh?”
“That... song? Chord? Is it going on Colt’s album?”
My throat bobs. “No.”
It’s going on his.
Not that he knows he’s getting one.
Embarrassed, I hunch my shoulders. (I’m so freakin’ weird sometimes.) “Sorry, my mind drifted away from me.”
He shrugs. “I liked it.”
When my cheeks blossom with heat, I know I’m going to croak.
(But what a way to go!!!)
Deciding a graceful retreat would be for the best, I mutter, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. You will.”
Scuttling away, I don’t look back.
If I did, I’d see him rubbing his chin, his gaze locked on me.
And if I’d seen that, I’d probably be questioning how right it is to leave for one date when all I’m thinking about is what musical arrangement he’d inspire if he kissed me…