35. Zee
Anchor - Novo Amor
“Iwas thinking about inviting your family over for a BBQ soon.”
My eyes widen as they dart from the apps on my phone where I check in with my blood sugar. I had to change my pump site today and already got the tube caught on a goddamn doorhandle. Some days, I get so sick of this shit I want to scream. Still, that’s not Colt’s fault.
Tiredly, I mutter, “Um. Why?”
“You’ve had to put up with mine. In close quarters. Figured I should do the same in return.”
“Thanks.”
His grin is hidden by the morning’s newspaper, but I saw it.
He thinks he’s so clever.
“Heard you were teaching the triplets how to shoot.”
He snorts. “Nearly got a butt full of lead for my pains.”
“They’re not naturals?”
“No. They’re not.” The paper rattles. “Do you mind?”
“What? Whipping them into shape? No. If anything, thank you,” I say honestly. “By the looks of the Bar 9, they need it.”
“They’re good kids.”
“Callan wouldn’t agree.”
“Because they’re too alike.”
“Ooooofff, don’t tell him that.”
He winks at me. “Already have.”
I’m grateful he takes up residence behind the paper again because I’m squirming in my seat.
Ever since I found out that he’s been taking care of my brothers, without a single word of encouragement from me, without any expectation, even going so far as to provide them with a defense attorney we’d never have been able to afford before our marriage, the tingle in my dingle (as Tee has horrifically started calling it) is getting worse.
Squirming in my seat at the prospect of watching ‘Daddy Colt’ in action (another Tee-ism), I eat some oatmeal and make a couple of notes on my to-do list as I drink the coffee he made for me when I came down for breakfast.
It’s a disturbingly domestic scene, but it’s happening more and more often.
Since the news spread that Colton was with me on the day Lydia died, Callan, Lindsay, and Ida think we’re hiding our relationship from them. That means, for whatever reason they can come up with, most of them atrociously weak, the table’s absent of anyone’s presence apart from my own and Colton’s.
For whatever reason, neither of us has yet to skip a meal since I gave him an alibi.
And for whatever reason, I’m enjoying his company.
It’s like the old days but better—there’s no reason to be frightened of running into Clyde or to pretend I don’t exist. Nor do I have to return to the Bar 9.
A part of me doesn’t want to trust in this new normal but it’s Colt. And old me, whether he betrayed her or not, does.
It’s like my lungs taking in air or my heart beating.
I can’t stop the process even if I want to.
“A BBQ would do them good. With their truck impounded, they’re looking stir-crazy for outside contact.”
“I think they’re having a hard time at school.”
“None of this makes any sense. We all have alibis but we’re still the prime suspects. I’m beginning to think your grandma is right. Reilly is an idiot. Or, he’s just corrupt.”
“You talked to her?”
“Had the pleasure, yes.”
That tingling dingle is turning into an outright vibration.
“You sure you want them to eat here?”
The top corner of the paper flops down as he peers over it. “Any reason why they shouldn’t?”
“Wasn’t messing around when I said Callan doesn’t like the triplets.”
“Callan doesn’t like a lot of people.” His frown makes an appearance as he tosses the paper on the table. I can see he has it open where the Sudoku puzzle is. Has he been hiding behind the paper as he solves it? I shouldn’t find that endearing but I do. “The triplets aren’t that bad, Zee.”
“No, but they’re…”
When my words wane, he prompts, “What? Teenaged kids with a lot of hormones?”
I purse my lips. “The spitting image of Dad.” It’s probably why it’s always been easier to text them than to video call.
Unlike Colt, who’s great at being the older sibling, I suck at it.
His frown lessens. “Oh.”
“Dad was very artistic,” I muse as my spoon drifts through the bowl of oatmeal.
“I remember he had a class in town.”
“Yes. If Grand-mère hadn’t been his mother-in-law, he’d have gone into art full-time. He had the soul of a creator, but you’re not allowed one of those if you marry into the McAllister family.”
“Or the Korhonens,” he remarks as he doodles beside the Sudoku puzzle.
“His kids didn’t even inherit his last name,” I whisper.
It never registered how tiring it was to talk with people who don’t understand the burden of a legacy. That’s one thing we both share. Yet I never imagined it’d be our common ground in the here and now.
“Mom told me that she loved his artist’s heart but as soon as they married, Grand-mère laid down the law and made him learn how to run the ranch.
“H-He was an orphan, you know?”
“I do.”
Of course, he does. Everyone knows everyone’s business here—duh.
“I think he was happy to be a part of a family. Enough that he let go of his dream for it. It must have been that, otherwise, why would he put up with Grand-mère?”
“He was a good man.”
“The best kind. The boys are like that too. In their own way.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want Callan’s safe space to be invaded by people he’s not friends with. Or for him to feel unwelcome in his own home like Dad was.”
Colt pins me in place with a grateful smile. “Thank you for that.”
“After everything with Lydia and him finding out about you being detained, he’s not in the best of headspaces.” I hitch a shoulder. “They don’t get along.”
“They’re family. Whether they like it or not.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“It’d be a BBQ in the yard,” he reiterates in a calm tone.
“So, they’d be on his turf but not in it.” I eat some oatmeal. “That’s not a half-bad idea.”
“I’m capable of them sometimes.”
His teasing tone has me blushing.
“I’ll talk to Mrs. Abelman,” he continues, “and get it set up.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I should have done it sooner. I promised I’d take them under my wing and I’ve fallen short.”
“Hardly.”
“If you’d seen them with a lasso last week, you’d disagree. I’m pretty sure they’re getting worse.” He rubs his chin. “That reminds me. Cole’s birthday is in a few weeks. It could be a double celebration. I know he intended on coming up but he hasn’t mentioned it.”
“Maybe because I’m here?” I ask, hating the necessity of the words but not wanting him to be blindsided.
Just because he believes me doesn’t mean Cole does.
“I’ll make him come,” is his simple retort.
My cheeks flush. “You can’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to do.”
His gaze settles on mine. It riles me while soothing something raw and ragged in my soul. “Sure I can.”
Before I have a chance to reply, his cell buzzes. He snags it, lips pursing as he scans the screen.
“Problem?” I ask, oddly annoyed that he might have to leave soon.
“No more than usual.” He flashes me a look. “Feel like coming on a ride with me?”
The offer is unexpected but, I can’t deny, appreciated.
I don’t think he purposely withheld the use of their horses from me, but I felt the lack of permission to go horseback riding, nevertheless.
A truck was one thing. The run of the house another. But their horses? That was a whole other level of trust.
At least, it felt like that to me.
“I-I have work.”
It’s a lie. I’m so far ahead with Rachel’s caseload that I’m hoping a Sinner will commit a heinous crime to keep me busy.
He shrugs. “It’ll only take a short while.”
It’s dumb how nervous such a simple request makes me. “I-It’s been years since I’ve ridden.”
“It’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget.”
Much as his humor often does—disarms me—I snort. “Will you put me on a pony so that I don’t have as far to fall?”
The grin sharpens. Wicked amusement flickers in his eyes. “I’ll save you before you fall.”
Why do I believe him?
“Okay.” Giddiness sparkles inside me but I tamp it down as I judge my choice of clothes. “Looks as if I’m inadvertently dressed for a morning on the range.”
This time, the emotion in his gaze has nothing to do with humor.
In fact, it steals the air from my lungs.
Whoa.
Where did that come from?
The room is warm. Not overly so but pleasant. Until that look. The heat in his eyes triggers a visceral response in me. My mouth dries up and my palms feel clammy. I know I’m flushing?—
His cell rings again.
Shattering the moment.
It relieves me that he’s as annoyed as I am because when he answers the call, he snarls, “Theo, this had better be—” Silence. “Oh.” He rubs his forehead. “Shit.”
And with those two words, I know that our horseback-riding date is canceled.
The depth of my disappointment is a sharp wrench in my plans to live here, go through IVF, and then leave.
Colton heaves a sigh but he disconnects the call without another word. “I’m sorry, Zee. Rain check?”
“Sure.”
His eyes collide with mine again. “Later. At two? You can finish your work?”
Surprised by the concession and hating the anticipation that immediately sizzles through my veins, I nod.
Eagerly.
Ugh.
Tee would either be ashamed or proud of me—I’m not sure which is worse.
His grin is quicksilver fast, though, and it makes up for my bobbing head.
At least we’re both excited.
Colton gets to his feet and tucks his cell in his pocket. “I’ll be back by one. We can eat lunch. Together.” He coughs. “If you want.”
“I’d like that,” is my prim response.
“Have a good morning.”
“You too.”
As he leaves the room, he pauses behind me.
My heart stutters as he rests a hand on my shoulder then presses a kiss to my cheek.
The simple contact has me immediately turning my head so I can capture his lips with mine.
A startled grunt escapes him as I lift my arms, curving them around his neck as I tug him into me while I twist in my seat. One of his hands settles on my thigh. The heat of it sends electric shocks through my nerve endings, which doesn’t sound pleasant but God, it’s everything.
Especially because his fingers are so big and they’re ridiculously close to the inseam at my crotch.
As his tongue explores my mouth, I fight back. Needing more. Needing everything. Our conversation shouldn’t have riled me up, but it did. Daddy Colt is hot as hell and I’ve no problem with hellfire.
A soft whimper breaks free of my vocal cords when he finally retreats, breathing hard and heavy as he pushes his forehead into mine.
“Rain check,” he rumbles.
Ugh.
My nostrils flare. “Lunch.”
It’s a promise.
His eyes widen then he smoothes his thumb over my kiss-sore lips. “No pressure, Zee.”
I clear my throat. “Go. Now. Before I climb you like a tree.”
I feel his amusement when he kisses my cheek again. “Lunch.”
That’s his promise.
I hear his cowboy boots clipping against the parquet flooring, and as the door closes with a soft snick, I press the back of my hand to my forehead.
Then, I freeze.
And I have no idea why I do it, none whatsoever, but I stand.
Darting over to the window, I watch him stride over to the stables that they consider ‘private’—where they house their personal stock and where the pregnant mares reside during foaling season.
It’s a short walk, only five minutes from the front door, unlike the regular barn that’s a click away.
I keep my focus locked on him as he heads inside, then a few minutes later, he brings out his ride.
The Houdini horse. Who, according to Callan, Loki sired.
Funny how Loki was a good boy but his son, Fenrir, or Fen for short, is the mischievous one.
That’s when my phone buzzes. Rather than answer, I snag my AirPods from my other pocket, pop them in, and hit connect.
“You’ll never guess what Phill did across the hall,” is Tee’s greeting.
“He thinks you’re cute so… he tried to ask you out.”
Her harrumph tells me I’m spot on. But I’m too distracted to gloat because I start drooling when Colton mounts Fen.
His butt in those jeans—my god.
This definitely isn’t the first time I’ve seen him ride but it might as well be for all the punch it packs to my ovaries.
“What are you ogling? Or should that be who? Have you finally decided your husband can stop the tingle in your?—”
“Stop calling my clitoris a dingle! I’m just admiring his skill bareback.”
“That had better be a euphemism for something else,” she grouses, making me smile.
“Are you going to go out with Phill?”
“He stinks.”
“He doesn’t.”
“He does!”
“It’s only motor oil. I love a man who can get down and dirty with anything mechanical.” Just like my husband. “Plus, free engine checks for the win?—”
“Neither of us owns a car.”
“That’s not the point! The point is if you did have one, he could be relied upon to keep the hunk of junk roadworthy.”
“But he stinks. And your lack of disagreement says you know I’m right.”
“He does smell like the shop,” I concede.
“His nails are black.”
I grunt.
“How am I supposed to let him go to town on my pussy if he has filthy hands?”
“Did you forget that he has a mouth for a reason?”
“He gets oil all over his face too.”
I laugh but it morphs into a sigh over Colt’s prowess on horseback.
“What are you doing?” she demands.
“Spying on my husband.”
“Oooh, you ‘my husband’ed him again. What’s he doing?”
“Riding a horse.”
“You’re such a cowgirl.”
“Since when is that a crime?”
“Since your idea of porn is watching a man ride?—”
“Without a saddle, Tee. Without. A. Saddle. Remember?”
“Oooooh. That changes things. Man, I bet he has the best thighs.” She clucks her tongue. “Don’t worry. You don’t need to ‘my husband’ him.”
“You watch too many rom-coms.”
“No such thing. You don’t watch enough. If you did, you’d see this whole arranged marriage as an opportunity.”
“An opportunity?!”
“Yeah! You’re married to a hot, wealthy rancher who wants you to have his baby.
“Honey, in a dating real-estate market where men who don’t wash their hands or face want to date you, Colton is a Catch.”
“Capital ‘C’?”
“You know it. What’s he wearing?”
My cheeks flush. “You did not ask me that!”
“I’m setting a scene!”
“What do you think he’s wearing? Short shorts? He’s a rancher!”
The bickering helps calm me as is often the way with us.
“A sexy one.” She whistles. “I’ve decided that you should marry him for real.”
“We’re already married.”
“I read this book yesterday and the sex, Zee, the sex. If Colton’s capable of that, then you need to keep him.”
“Colt is not a character in a book!”
“He could be. You know he’s good in the sack. He’s too kind not to be. Any dude who’d agree to IVF when you’re fine as all get-out is too generous not to have a similar mindset between the sheets.”
“You can’t attribute?—”
“The hero was called Colt. I can attribute whatever I want to him.”
“Gah! You’re so annoying. Why do I miss you?”
She snickers. “I think you’re selfish.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not on video so I can’t share in the show.”
The sharp bite of jealousy startles me.
It fizzles in me like I downed three cans of Pigeonberry energy drink back-to-back.
A soft chuckle sounds in my ear. “Ooooooh. Feeling possessive, are we?”
I grunt. “Despite how long I’ve been here, I’ve only just started opening up to him.”
“That’s usually when men fall short,” she disregards. “If he’s withstood a couple conversations with you, no wonder you’re eyeing him differently.
“I wondered why you hadn’t been posting any videos. You’ve been all loved up in Pigeon Creek. Honestly, that could be the title of your real-life Hallmark movie?—”
Aghast, I blurt out, “That is not why I haven’t been posting videos!”
She clucks her tongue. “Shame. I know you said that lunch date was second base only but I lived in hope.
“Honestly, if I have another shitty date, I’m going to rethink my sexuality. Maybe that’s why we get along so well. I have a secret crush on you and I didn’t know it.”
“You can’t say stuff like that.”
“Sure I can. The girl in the coffee shop is hot. She looks like she knows what a clitoris is too.”
“She has one.”
“EXACTLY MY POINT.”
Though I huff, I murmur, “Is this your bi-awakening moment?”
I can hear the smirk in her voice. “I’m not too old for experimentation.”
“Only you’d figure out your sexuality because you’re tired of the male species.”
“What can I say? We’re not all gifted a Colton.”
I huff. “You’ve changed your tune.”
“I’m lonely.” She sniffs. Not sniffles. It’s taken a while, but we’ve gotten there. “What else am I supposed to do apart from work, read, watch TV, talk to you, and find someone who can make me feel good about myself?”
“Go to the gym. That does the same thing as a guy.”
“Now I know you’ve been spending time with your grandmother.”
“Actually, I haven’t.”
“You haven’t spoken to Colton, or the she-devil, or your mother-in-law, or the triplets. You haven’t visited my folks either. So, what the hell have you been doing apart from hanging out with my nemesis?”
“Callan is not your nemesis,” I mumble, craning my neck to keep Colt in my field of vision.
“He is. He’s stealing you from me.”
“Technically, the guy you’re setting me up with did that,” I point out. “Callan’s making me feel more at home.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Callan? He’s in school?—”
“Not him,” she hisses. “Colton!”
“He’s riding out of sight. Behind the house.”
“Follow him!”
“How?”
“Keep him in view!”
“Why?!”
“Because I have to live vicariously through you! Duh! Ugh, you’re so slow on these things sometimes.”
“Work. Work is what I’ve been doing.”
“Boring.”
“How’s the orchestra?”
“I hate it. Hate everyone. Hate New York.”
“Apart from the girl at the coffee shop.”
“Apart from her.”
Though I am traipsing through the house on the hunt for Colt, stalking him via the windows, I muse, “You’re not joking, are you?”
“About my sexuality?”
The trouble with knowing someone as long as you’ve known yourself is that you sense when there’s a joke beneath the truth and the truth beneath a joke.
“Yeah.”
She clears her throat. “No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I tut. “This isn’t something that happens overnight. You must have been feeling this way forever.”
“I didn’t want you to freak out. Think I was in love with you or something. I mean, I love you. But I’m not in love with you.”
“I’m not that self-centered that I think the world revolves around me, babe.”
“No, I know. I am, though,” she teases, sounding more like herself. “I dated some chicks behind your back?—”
“We weren’t dating so you weren’t technically?—”
“I think I’m holding out for Butch Cassidy.” My snort triggers a second sniff. “Where’s Colt?”
“Jesus, you’re worse than the FBI!” I harrumph as I make it upstairs, finally getting to the den where I know I’ll be able to see in which direction he headed. “Gotcha! He’s already a blip in the distance though.”
That’s when I notice…
“Huh.”
“What?”
“A bunkhouse.”
“So?”
“I didn’t realize it was there before.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’ve noticed much around that place. If that were me, I’d know every inch of that land already.”
“You’re nosy.”
“I’m curious.”
“Same difference.” I squint into the distance, and then, annoyed with myself for being dumb, I open the camera app on my phone. Zooming as much as I can, I say, “It’s occupied. There’s smoke coming out of the chimney. But why’s it over in that quadrant?”
“Are you asking me?”
“No. I know you don’t have a clue.”
“Why wouldn’t it be in that quadrant?”
“It’s too far out. There are no stables nearby. No trucks, either.” Toying with the St. Christopher’s medallion Tee’s nonna gave me before we left for New York, I murmur, “Plus, no cattle are grazing anywhere so I reckon it must be in fallow.”
“The trucks wouldn’t be there at this time of the day, though, would they?”
“Maybe not.” I purse my lips. “Also, why’s Colt even going to the bunkhouse? Ranch hands come to the owner, not vice versa.”
“Sounds elitist.”
“It’s not not.”
“Not not not not not, huh?”
“You’re in one of those moods.”
“Gee, ya think. Okay, so what’s he doing?”
“What else could he be doing, Tee? He’s on a horse! Riding to a bunkhouse! I’m not a spy. I don’t know why he’s heading that way.”
“To a super-secret bunkhouse.”
“Shut up.” I clear my throat. “We’re going riding later.”
“Ooohhhh. Another euphemism, I hope?”
“Have you been drinking original Coke again? You only get like this after you drink pop,” I grumble so I can hide from the fact my nose is smushed up against the window as I squint to see what Colton’s doing.
“I had one ice cream soda.”
“Ugh. I’m so jealous.” I might love the taste, but it does not agree with me.
“Unlike you.”
“Today feels like a day for sugar.”
“Why? You’re not sad.”
“No, I need to eat my feelings.”
She falls silent before whisper-screaming, “Meaning you have feelings?!”
“I’m not an alien!”
“Are these feelings for a certain cute cowboy?”
“Don’t call him that.”
God, Colt’s not cute. He’s everything.
“Which part? Cute or a cowboy?”
“Ugh. Both.” My cheeks blaze with heat. “Clearly, I’m about to get my period or something. You know I’m always horny then.”
The sound of someone clearing their throat rumbles behind me.
I freeze.
Turn back to find?—
“Oh, shit.” I blink at one of Colt’s brothers—Cody. “Um. Hello?”
A soft smirk curves his lips. “Hello.”
“Who is that? Does he know he has a sexy voice?”
Ignoring her, I swallow the urge to be buried beneath this very spot forevermore and stick out my hand. “I’m Zee.”
“Zee, I’m Cody.”
As we shake hands, I stare at the crutch in his free one but spy no other visible sign of injury. “Are you okay?”
“What’s wrong with him?” Tee asks.
“Yeah. I heard your voice, though, and didn’t recognize it.” He angles his head to the side. “You’ve grown up since the last time we saw one another.”
“God, he sounds so hot. Is he?”
Wanting to die, I gulp. “I need to end this call, Cody?—”
“Noooooo.”
“I’ll talk to you later,” I snap at my so-called BFF. Then, I disconnect the call and smile at him. “Sorry. My friend was distracting me.”
“Yes. Apparently.”
You did not talk about being horny in front of your brother-in-law…
“Um, could you at least lie to me and tell me you didn’t overhear the last part of our conversation?”
His lips roll inward. “Sure.”
Oh, he’s lying. But badly.
I gust out my cheeks. “So…”
“So… You’re horny and find my brother attractive.”
“God, you’re as bad as my friend!” I sputter, mortified.
He chuckles. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” The chuckle dies as he coughs and clears his face of all expression. “Hello, sister-in-law. I’m your brother-in-law. Squadron Leader Cody Korhonen reporting for duty.
“I’d stand to attention but I’m not allowed to pop my heels for another two weeks.”
Wincing, I mutter, “Do you want something to drink? I know this is more your house than mine, but I have no idea where Ida’s lair is.”
“She has quarters just off the kitchen, but seeing as Mum’s home, she’s probably with her in the solarium.” His head tips to the side. “Thought you’d have known that already.”
“I haven’t done much exploring.”
“But you live in this house.”
“Yes, but it’s not mine to be nosing around, is it?”
Though his brow lifts, he states, “I’d love a coffee. No one answered their phone when my cab pulled up outside.”
A part of me wants to blanch over how much that taxi ride must have cost from the airport, but then, these guys are all loaded so why bother worrying about their bank accounts?
“Can you manage to get back down the stairs?”
“Sure. I’m slow. Feel free to go ahead.”
I know it’s an invitation, but I don’t take it.
That’d be plain rude.
“So, um, Callan’s told me a lot about you.”
“Callan talks too much,” he grumbles, but he’s obviously uncomfortable because it takes him a while to bluster out the words as we make it onto the first level.
“You should have stayed on this floor,” I mutter worriedly. “I know the boys have a wing on this level?—”
“I heard a voice I didn’t recognize. Considering everything that’s going on in town, I had to check things out.”
It’s with relief that we make it to the ground floor. It seems dumb to guide him into the kitchen when he knows its location better than I do, but guide him I do.
When he plunks his ass at the kitchen table, right where I’d been sitting twenty minutes ago, he releases a pained sigh. “God, it’s good to be off my feet.”
Inwardly cringing on his behalf, I scurry to fix him a coffee.
Plunking the cup and creamer in front of him, I watch as he takes a deep sip before, staring me square in the face, he asks, “So, did you burn down our stables?”