49. Cody
Cody
W hen I correctly identify three out of the five crystals she shows me, Tee’s suspicious nature reveals itself. “How do you know that? I figured you used Google.”
I make sure my cell is tucked into my pocket. “I researched crystals when you kept sending them to me.”
Her eyes narrow, that black-and-white view of the world she has filling me with warmth.
For someone so smart, she’s surprisingly na?ve.
I never want that to change.
When she pats me down in the store, I buck away from her with a laugh. “Is that an illegal search you’re performing, Ms. MacFarlane?”
She squints. “Where’s your phone? I want to see your search history.”
Innocent expression fixed in place, I hand it to her once I’ve unlocked the screen. That’s when she shrieks and plants it to her chest. Cheeks burning, she scours the store for anyone who might have seen. “What the hell, Cody?”
I hitch a shoulder. “My personal cell. No one will see apart from me.”
“And me, apparently,” she wails, but it doesn’t stop her from tipping the screen so she can see the photo of her ass bearing my teeth marks. Her throat bobs the longer she studies the image, and I’m left dealing with the beginnings of a boner—honestly, her reactions are so fucking delicious.
“Imagine the album I’ll have curated by the time I have a white beard worthy of Gandalf,” I croon, sliding my hand over her shoulder as I tug her into me.
She uses me to prop herself up. “I-I want to pick the wallpapers.” The words bleed with her nerves, but there’s a lot of curiosity there too.
“Sure.”
This whole thing is a trust exercise anyway. I know how much it means for her to give me permission to photograph her like that.
“I want pictures with you in them,” she orders.
“Can do.”
“And I curate the best ones to go on my phone.”
I rub my nose. “I mean, there’s more chance Callan or Zee will see your screen…”
She squints at me again, but her initial reason forgotten, she hands over the phone after tapping the power button.
“I’m hot,” she declares. “You’re hot. So they’re in for a treat. And if they don’t like it, they shouldn’t be looking anyway.”
Why does she never say what I think she will?
I choke out a laugh. “There is that.”
Nodding, she grabs my arm as a clear punctuation point on that topic and drags me over to a wall of crystal dildos.
“I didn’t realize there’d be so many.”
“Yup. They have them shaped like penises, tapered, with bumps or untapered?—”
“Is that safe?”
“That’s what the ER is for.”
“Because every successful orgasm ends with a doctor pulling a red jasper dong out of your cooch.”
“Hey, life is for living.”
“So, personal safety during sex is my responsibility. Got it.”
Her lips twitch. “I’m all about the experience.”
“Apparently.” I glance over the wall of cocks. “You like green.”
“Yeah, but a green dick... it’s giving monster vibes.”
“True. Don’t ask me why Cole told me, but that’s a thing as well.”
She hums—the tone’s happy and amused. “He’s getting married.”
“Yup.”
“Callan’s organizing the whole shebang.”
“He is?”
“Yes. This Thanksgiving. At the ranch.”
My eyes bug. “What? Since when?”
“This morning. Cole called and asked Callan. Zee said he agreed.”
“The dipshit was supposed to visit, not get married on our holiday. Jesus fucking Christ.”
“A Korhonen acting like a god… who’d a thunk it?”
“He’s Dionysus.”
“If he is, then you’re Ares.”
“Obviously,” I tell her snootily. “Callan’s not happy about being Pan.”
“He might be a good Hermes.” She taps her chin. “I’m playing during their ceremony.”
“Since when?”
“Since Zee asked me before we left for Saskatoon.”
“Huh. Did you want to?”
“It’s kind of what I do.”
“You’re supposed to be moving on from that, aren’t you? You’re a composer now.”
Heat gleams in her eyes. “For that, you get to teach me how to make you see stars when I blow you.”
I snicker. “You already make me see stars when you blow me. You try harder and it’ll send me to the cosmos.”
“I aim to please,” she purrs, patting my chest again. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t like not to be asked. Aventurine,” she continues, sounding distracted. “I think that’s playful?—”
I scratch my forehead. “Not to kill the vibe, babe, but how can a stone be playful?”
“Hush.”
“You could write music for the ceremony.”
“I suggested that. Great minds…” Another pat to my chest. “Carnelian might fit. I used to charge that stone when I wanted to work on expressing myself.”
“You had to work on that?”
“Of course. I wasn’t always as awesome as I am now.”
A smile dances on my lips. “If I remember rightly, labradorite is about expression too. Doesn’t it do something to the throat chakra?”
“Stimulates it,” she corrects. “That sounds good. I’ve started singing while I’m composing.”
“You sing when you come too.”
Her eyes widen. “I do?”
“Yup. It’s how I know I did a good job.”
Her smile’s sheepish. “You always earn an A+.”
How did I know she’d start grading me? For someone who doesn’t want to be a teacher, she acts like one.
I drop a kiss on her nose. “I’m the teacher’s pet. I like an A+ across the board.”
“Continue in the same vein and I can guarantee your report card will prove you’re an overachiever.” Another hum escapes her. “Crystals are cold.”
I blink at the association. “Is that a problem?”
“I kinda think I’ll like the temperature difference.”
My brow furrows. “Think? You played with ice?”
“Accidentally.”
“Do I want to know how that happened?”
“I left a vibrator in the fridge once. It got hot too quickly?—”
“How did you leave a vibrator in the fridge?”
“I was sick.”
When she strokes a jade crystal wand, I direct, “I need more of an explanation than that!”
“Delirious sick. Flu. Fever dreams—sick sick.”
“And a fever dream made you put a vibrator in the fridge?”
“I turned everything upside down. It drove Zee mad. I put dishes in the washing machine and clothes in the dishwasher.” She pulls a face. “When my brain goes down, everything goes up.”
That type of chaos is so her. “And you used the cold vibrator during a fever dream?”
“No. By the time I’d gotten over the flu, Zee caught it, so the last of my shenanigans were down to me to rectify. Figured I’d try it.”
“Did it work?”
“I got really close to coming. Then, I started worrying about frostbite on my labia, which, let me tell you, is a mood killer.”
“I can imagine,” I drawl. “So, which one then?”
“Maybe obsidian? It’s kinda pretty if penises can be pretty. Though it’s not as nice as yours. Yours does that curve thing.”
“I have a pretty penis?”
“Course you do. You’re a Korhonen. Everything’s pretty and rich. I bet you shit gold.”
“I wish I did, but no, sadly, that’s not true.”
“I don’t believe you. It’s probably only 9ct, not 24ct.”
I tut. “My shit stinks.”
Someone clears their throat behind me. “Can I offer any assistance?”
Tee grins at me, not even trying to withhold a laugh. “No, we’re good, thank you.”
The assistant eyes me funnily, but I shoot her my most charming smile. Tee gags when the woman simpers, going so far as to flutter her lashes at me.
“That was gross,” she grumbles. “Does every woman do that?”
“Your nonna included,” I tease.
She whacks my arm. “It’s funny ‘cause it’s true. She told me if she were twenty years younger, she’d?—”
I stop that sentence in its tracks. “Isn’t she in her nineties?”
“In her words, she’s old but she’s not dead. Or blind. You really are very attractive.” The words are half-accusation. “And then there’s that face. It’s too pretty for my own good.”
“All the better for sitting on, my dear,” I croon.
“Ooooh. You make a fair point.” Then, she claps her hands. “Which do you like best?”
“Isn’t that a ‘you’ question?”
“I suppose, but you should have input too.”
I study the wall of schlongs then point to the obsidian one. “I figure that’ll connect your root to your heart which I like the sound of. Especially as it’s tapered. I can impale you on that one and fuck you at the same time.”
“Yes, please!”
“The twisty rose quartz one. That’d probably feel good for both of us. Get that pretty little cunt all wet for me, roll you on your knees so I can fill you with my cock from behind, and then slide that in too, stuffing you until you scream.” As she wafts a hand in front of her face, I don’t even smirk. “And hey, rose quartz is all about romance, right? Nothing says ‘romance’ like having your pussy stuffed?—”
She slaps that wafting hand against my mouth. “Cody!”
I lick her palm.
Tee shrieks into laughter then falls into a twirl. “I’ll have both!”
“You can have more. Pick whichever you want.”
“I think the rose quartz wand. But I want you to use it on me.”
“How?”
“Temperature play.” She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I liked what you said before. I want you to use it on me while you’re inside me.”
I tip my chin in understanding. “It’ll be interesting?—”
“Interesting?! You make fireworks without the double stuffing. I’m about to be the happiest Oreo in the world.”
Palming my face, I don’t bother hiding my laugh. “God, Tee. Don’t change.”
“Why would I? I’m closer to thirty than twenty. It’s statistically unlikely that I will. Although, if Jerry Majors likes my music, I can’t guarantee that if he uses one of my songs in a movie, that I won’t crow about it at the music festival.”
“Understandable.”
“You know, in the eighties, people walked around with boom boxes?”
“I’ll buy you one for Christmas,” I joke. “We’ll attach it to a truck and you can play it loud whenever you drive into town.”
She chortles—that means she loves the idea—then calls the simpering assistant and asks her for the dildos I spoke about, which are in a glass cabinet.
Once she’s paid for that and a bunch of other crystals, refusing to let me cover it, though we almost fight over the credit card reader, I end the argument with a huff as she murmurs, “You got the room. I’ll provide the food.”
“The food being you?”
“Yup. I’m going to be your personal Oreo, remember?”
I smile at her. “You are anyway. Sweeter than high fructose corn syrup. That’s you.”
“Bleugh, don’t compare me to the plague of our existence.”
“Why? Plagues can be pretty hot,” I inform her just to watch her preen.
Preening comes with a side of cockiness as she swings the crystal bag in her other hand while we walk out of the store.
My cell buzzes as she talks about how useful it would be to strategically target assholes with the plague.
Annoyed at the interruption when she makes some salient points about biowarfare, I scan the caller ID and heave a sigh.
“I have to take this. I’m sorry, Tee.”
“Don’t be. If Zee, Parker, or Callan called, I’d answer.”
“Callan?” I glance at her as I hit connect and direct at the phone, “Wait a second, Bree.”
“Like the cheese?” Tee asks.
“No. Like Bryony,” I answer her in an aside. “You’ve gotten close with Callan?”
“Sure. Baby Cowboy’s pretty neat. Plus, I’m going to help him lose his virginity if it’s the last thing we both do?—”
“You’re not offering yourself as a sacrifice, are you?”
“Ew. Who’s Bree?”
“Head of the security firm I just hired for the ranch.”
“What was wrong with the old one?”
“Nothing. But I served with Bree and her company’s new?—”
She clicks her fingers. “And loyalty matters to you.”
“Precisely.”
“Though I’m sure Brogan doesn’t agree when you abandoned him at the ranch.”
“He can survive a day without me.” To Bree, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“We have someone with a fake ID trying to apply for a ranch hand job.”
“Then tell him to move on. Fuck’s sake, Bree, you shouldn’t need to check in with me about this.”
“I know. Jesus. It’s a good fake, Cody. One of the best I’ve ever seen.”
The severity of her tone has me pausing, inadvertently tugging Tee to a halt as she stares at me in concern.
“What’s so special about it?”
“It’s high quality. Expensive.”
“You run his previous?”
“I emailed it to Marty. The guy’s got a clean record on his original ID.”
“Which means he didn’t spend that much to run away from previous crimes.” I frown. “What are you thinking? Someone sent them?”
“Yes. I can go the less-than-legal route and look into his bank account so we can see who we’re dealing with?”
I sigh. “You do know that I’m a marshal, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“No, the opposite in fact. If he’s a professional, then it won’t be in his regular bank account, Bree.”
“No, but I wasn’t suggesting I investigate his current account, Cody. I was thinking offshore.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“Might know someone who knows someone. Especially when we’re trying to protect a women’s sanctuary. They’ll likely chime in their help pro bono .”
“The ranch hand applicant could be a journalist?”
“No. Like I said, there are no ties to any media companies. If there were, I’d have tossed his file out. I have a bad feeling, Cody.”
“Who’s in danger? My family or the sanctuary?”
“Gut says sanctuary, but that doesn’t mean your family won’t be caught in the crossfire. I’ve been reading up on the files of the current guests and their exes deserve castration.”
I rub my chin. “Only three have exes with the funds to send in an expensive professional.”
She grunts her agreement.
“It might be time for those guests to move on. For their own safety and ours.”
“Perhaps, but if they reached the ranch, then the people in question won’t stop there.” She clucks her tongue. “The location alone is secure, and the audacity of sending someone in for a job interview...”
“It wouldn’t be the first time. Colt explained their interviewing process. It was in-depth to prevent these situations from occurring—we turbocharged it a bunch.” Aware Tee’s listening in, I send her a half-hearted smile. “Maintaining the individuals’ safety is our priority, but they all need our protection. Moving the highest-risk guests overseas might be for the best.”
“Not always possible. Some of the women don’t have the funds?—”
“We’ll make it happen.”
“Fine.” She clears her throat. “Never thought when you looked me up, Cody, that things would be so interesting.”
“You’re welcome.”
When I disconnect the call, Tee tugs on my fingers. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone tried to get a job at the ranch with a fake ID. A high-end one. His record’s clean, no priors, so?—”
“He’s a hitman?!”
Her squeak has me hiding a smile. “We don’t think so. What do you know about Dove Bay?”
“The women’s refuge?”
Naturally, she knows all about it. “Who told you?”
“You—”
Me? Shit, I don’t even remember that conversation.
“—then I asked Zee, of course. Do you think it’s in danger?”
“Perhaps.”
Her eyes bug. “We can’t allow that!”
“Damn straight we can’t. Just like you heard—we’re locking shit down.” I rub my chin. “I don’t know what’s for the best. Move them on or keep them here and up the security.”
“You can’t up the security anymore. Zee doesn’t leave the house that much and she’s already complaining about having guard dogs.”
“We could probably cut the security down by half if we got rid of our more high-profile guests.” I don’t even want to think about who their husbands are. Especially Brackton. He’s a nightmare on his own. “So far, Canada’s taken pretty well to the whole ‘commoner becoming a billionaire’s wife’ romance?—”
“You’re so cynical.”
“The truth stings,” I tease, surprising myself by being able to find humor in this messed-up situation.
“I think you guys were being overcautious. Colt’s popular, and as I have demonstrated, you and Callan are too. Clyde might be a dick, but you guys have built your own reps.” She narrows her eyes. “Callan told me he’s slowing down the PR crawl until there’s a date for your father’s trial.”
“Makes sense. Canada knows who Colt and Zee are now. A few attendances to some fancy galas and that’s enough to keep them in the public eye.”
She nods. “They’re going to one in Vancouver next week.”
“Are you traveling with her? I know you’ve been doing her hair and makeup.”
“What kind of emotional support animal would I be if I didn’t?”
Though I snort, she can sense my mind’s torn.
“I’d send some of them overseas. Europe’s a big place. I heard you say you’ll cover the costs...”
“Of course.”
“Not many would do that.”
“Not many grew up in a house with a monster,” I mutter. “It feels like we’re abandoning them if we send them away.”
“No. You’re saving them. You’re making them harder to find. Maybe pull a double bluff? Set up rents for them in Canadian towns, different cities and whatnot, but then send them to Europe. Maybe Italy.”
“Why Italy?”
“Who doesn’t want to visit Italy before they die?”
That has me cackling. “So, it’s half SOS and half great chance for an Emily in Rome moment?”
“You know what Emily in Paris is?”
“I do.”
“We need to watch that together.”
I pretend to study my nails just so she’ll whack me for mocking her. “Cole saw to most of our entertainment education.”
“Meaning?”
“He loves all things romance and rammed it down our throats too. Then would pester us until we watched his recs.”
“Yeah, what’s with his love of all things romance?” she asks as we start walking. “Most hockey players are fuckbois.”
“Oh, sure, but he was searching for the one. We all dealt with how Clyde treated Mum differently. Colt locked up tight, never brought anyone around after the first girlfriend he took home was lured away by Clyde. Cole did the opposite. He wanted a real connection and wouldn’t stop until he found it.”
“I’m looking forward to catching up with Mia. I know we met at the BBQ, but we didn’t really get a chance to hang out.”
“She keeps Cole in line. I like her. She cuts through his bullshit and loves the man he is, not the Korhonen or the hockey player. Just Cole. We all want that.”
She peeps up at me. “You know I...”
“Oh, I know,” I assure her with a wink. “I’m considering myself the lucky one.”
“What did you want? Cole sought out love; Colt locked down. What about you?”
I shrug. “I focused on work.”
“All the time?”
“Had a lot to achieve and didn’t want to do any of it on the back of my name.”
“I’m not sure how a douche canoe like Clyde made such good sons.”
“He had a lot of help from Mum and Mrs. Abelman.”
“And your Uncle Clay,” she tacks on softly.
“Yup, and Uncle Clay. He’s the reason I open doors for you.”
“I remember that’s his fault.” She laughs. “Not a bad problem to have to deal with.” Though I smirk at her, she tugs on my fingers. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. We can order room service and watch Netflix and you can ponder what the best move to make is for those ladies.”
“No, we’re shopping!”
“And your mind is elsewhere. I don’t need anything. I got my crystals. I saw you in the store, and you helped pick out a dildo for me?—”
“ For us . Technically, that was all on you.”
“—that’s made my day. Now, I want Netflix and chill, but for it to be like the memes and less of me eating popcorn with Zee.”
I curl my arm around her waist and haul her into me. “I told you I was a lucky man.”
She smiles, shyly this time. “Guess we’re both lucky.”