Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Lacey
I wake up alone in bed.
There's a note on his pillow, nestled in the indent where his head was.
Lacey, I had to head into work. Leaving you all naked and sexy in my bed was hard AF, by the way. There's coffee ready downstairs. Call me when you're up.
I love you.
CoCo
He signed it “CoCo”—my heart melts a little.
We spent Sunday doing more boxing, packing, purging, and cleaning.
His dad's office—the study/library—took the longest, mainly because Cole didn't want to throw away any of his dad's case notes.
We compromised, and he decided to bring to work the boxes of notes and files that had slowly migrated from the station to the house over the years; they could get stashed in the basement with the other old files that have long since been digitized.
We have all the rooms empty but for the big furniture and a giant pile of stuff on the front lawn—or where the lawn would be were it not covered in the half a foot of snow we got Saturday night and Sunday morning—to be thrown away, and more stuff in boxes and bags in the main living room.
Riley is sending two crews over today—one to deal with the trash and load the storage container, and another to start the demo.
Which means that was the last night we'll spend in that house, as it was.
For the next few weeks, we'll be crashing in the flip downtown, and then we'll officially be making the newly-renovated farmhouse our own home.
It doesn't feel real.
Because it's not, yet, but you know what I mean.
Cole and I, together. Making a home. Together.
The thought makes me so happy I let a couple hot tears trickle down into my ears. So happy, in fact, that I let impulsivity guide me.
First, I send him an old nude—the next oldest one, taken a few months after the first. In this one, I'm in my bed, on my back looking up at the camera, my arms framing my boobs; a flat sheet covers me from the navel down.
Then, after sending that one, I recreate it as best I can, hugging my tits with one arm while holding the phone at a distance with the other. I take and delete several before I end up with one I like, and I do some basic touch-ups to it before sending that one.
I'm liking this game.
You really want to make it a game? If you can find a way to send me a spicy selfie without getting caught by your men, I'll send you another old pic.
A few minutes later, a picture pops up in the thread.
Cole, in his office, seated behind his desk.
The Three Rivers Sheriff's Department seal is behind him.
He's unbuttoned his uniform shirt and pulled up his white undershirt to bare his torso.
He has also undone his uniform slacks. He's erect, one hand shoving his underwear down, the other arm extended to take the shot.
I can tell he's uncomfortable with the whole idea.
I send him a bunch of emojis—heart eyes, sweating with tongue out, eggplant, lips—and then the next selfie from the hidden folder—basically a replica of the previous one, but I snapped that one in the bathroom at work; I'd just shoved up my shirt and bra, one thumb hooked in the front of my panties.
He responds with another selfie from behind his desk, this one more humorous than hot: he's still gripping himself, but he has his eyes closed and his tongue lolling out as if he has died mid-jerk.
Do I need to come and give you the breath of life? Hint: the breath of life is applied through your dingaling.
Please never call him that again.
And yes, you do.
Kidding. I'm super swamped in work right now, so as much as I'd love to see you, especially for that, I have a shit ton to get done so I can get home while it's still today.
Maybe you can swing a short lunch break, with hanky-panky time permitting.
Lunch break, yes. Hanky-panky lunch break? Even more yes. I hope. Just seeing you will be enough to get me through the day, though. You're all I want and all I need. Just you.
And just like that, I'm crying again, already, and it's not even eight in the morning. I take a second to collect myself, and then slip on Cole’s tee from the day before, discarded on his side of the bed.
And then, just for the sake of convenience, I pull on his old underwear, too.
Gross, maybe, but lovers do things that are, objectively, even less hygienic.
I spend the morning enjoying the solitude and silence, sipping coffee and watching tiny glittering flakes of snow swirl in the sun, picked up and blown around by the wind.
Around ten, a battered red pickup arrives, followed by a second pickup, this one black…fuck me, it's a parade of bro tractors—red, blue, green, gold, silver. Last in line is a massive vehicle pulling a roll-off dumpster and another slightly smaller truck with a storage pod.
A swarm of beefcakes descends, then, led by Riley and Felix. Riley directs his half of the crew in getting the roll-off unloaded, and then they get to work filling it with the discard pile. Felix, meanwhile, has his guys moving in and out of the house, loading the storage pod.
I just watch, wrapped in a blanket, wide-eyed.
Felix and Riley must have their entire roster here.
The roll-off is full in an eye-blink; apparently, Felix's company owns the roll-off and the truck that goes with it, because he climbs behind the wheel, loads the dumpster, and takes off with it, returning with it empty forty minutes later.
During which time Riley’s guys have already finished loading Cole's stuff and have started prepping for the demo.
Riley finds me in the kitchen, frozen in the corner with my coffee while the herd of giant men all wearing filthy jeans and Carhartt vests and heavy gloves and hard hats over knit caps wander the house, spraying X's on walls and throwing around terms like "load-bearing."
"Hey, so, uh, you should probably skedaddle, Lacey. It's gonna get gnarly in here," he says. "Also, if you want, you can put your stuff from your car into the pod. What it's for, right?"
I blink. "Duh. I hadn't thought of that. Good idea, Rye. I'll change and get to it."
"If you just unlock the car and let me know if there's something we shouldn't touch, we can do it for you."
"Oh. I…" I think for a second. "Just let me change, and I’ll grab what I need, and then you guys can do the rest. I know the car is full, but it's a small car, so it's not that much stuff."
"No worries." He pauses, glances at me. "Do you know where the new place is?"
"Ummmmm…Maplelawn and Huron, right? Cole took me by it."
"Yup. Number one-oh-nine on Huron, the corner lot.
Big German pine in the yard. It's all ready for you guys.
" He hands me a key. "Head over and make yourself at home.
" He looks around at what appears to me to be chaos, grinning.
"You have no idea how fuckin' excited Fee is, Lace.
He's wanted to get his paws on this place since he was a foreman on Dad's payroll.
The bones, he says. It's all about the bones. He rearranged our entire winter schedule just for this, so he could start now.”
I grin, too, watching Felix in the main hallway—he's staring around at the ceilings and inspecting floor moldings and patting the newel of a stair banister; he's grinning like a lovestruck fool, the wheels of creativity rolling in his head.
"I think if Craig Mannix could have picked anyone to remodel this house, it'd be Felix," I say.
Riley nods. "Agreed. He tolerated my hoodlum ass, but he loved Fee almost as much as he did Cole." His gaze darkens, flicks to mine. "He tell you about the stuff with his dad?"
I nod. “Yeah, he did. His new deputy, Carter, seems to be making headway, though."
"Fuck, I hope the kid solves it. With you back and you guys together and his dad's death figured out, I think Cole could be a whole new man.
" He flicks his gaze over my borrowed outfit, as I adjust the blanket around me—the door is wide open, letting the icy wind blow cold air throughout the house.
"Cadie does the same thing. Makes me irrationally happy. "
I lift an eyebrow. "What thing?"
He lifts chin at me. "Puts on my tee and boxers from the day before when she's just bummin' around the house in the morning."
I redden. "You weren't supposed to notice."
He pinches my cheek playfully. "Aww, you're blushin'! Told you, it makes me happy. I promise you Cole feels the same. Nothin' to be embarrassed about."
I shrug awkwardly. "It was easy and I needed coffee. And it makes me feel closer to him."
He bumps me with his shoulder. "Good."
"Yo, Rye! We gotta kill the utilities!" Someone shouts. "Quit yakkin' and come help, ya bum!"
He rolls his eyes. "I'm too lax with these goons." He chucks my chin. "Power's gonna go any minute, so unless you wanna change in the dark, I’d hustle."
I make quick work of pulling on clean clothes.
Cole packed the last of his clothes into suitcases before he left this morning, apparently, so I shove his shirt and underwear with my dirty clothes in a laundry bag, and then rearranged my car, pulling out the bins and boxes for the guys to put in storage, and putting our small pile of stuff to go to the temporary new house in it.
One last look through to make sure I'm not forgetting anything, and then I leave the Mannix farm to the swarm of men; by the time I’m behind the wheel and pulling away, they’re already ripping out the kitchen while Felix's guys unload stacks of building materials into the barn.
It’s weirdly emotional, leaving the farm for downtown. I've only stayed there a couple of nights. In fact…I've only been back a week.
Holy shit.
It feels like a lifetime.
A week?
My whole life is different. I'm different. There's a peace in my soul that I never thought I'd feel. I'm back where I belong—in Three Rivers, with Cole.