17. Chef’s Special #2
I round the corner at the apple orchard and find Kyle, shirtless and sweating, surrounded by a graveyard of chopped logs. He pulls out his headphones and grins. “Yo, Coleman!”
“Jesus,” I say, eyeing the destruction. “How long have you been at this?”
“Couple of hours.” He flexes, still gripping the axe. “But look at this. Huh? The ladies are going to love it this summer.”
“Lucky them.”
His grin turns coy. “ Soooo , whatcha doing here?”
Immediately, I know he knows . Still, I stall. “Oh...I’m still waiting for your cousin’s invoice. I figured I’d come remind you.”
“Ah.” He grabs a bottle of water, taking a long swig. “That’s the best you got? Kinda sad.”
“I mean it, I?—”
“So how are things going with Charlotte?”
“Shhh,” I hiss, glancing over my shoulder.
He raises both hands. “Dude, your brother has big ears, but he can’t hear through walls.”
I cross my arms, staring at the dirt beneath my boots. Kyle hit the nail on the head—I am here to talk about Charlotte. About what’s been happening daily between us. But now that I’m looking into his eyes, I don’t know what to say.
How are things going with Charlotte?
Hot. So incredibly hot. And so unbelievably complicated.
“We . . . we keep doing it.”
“Oh, so you didn’t end things with her, huh?” His crooked grin widens. “What a shocking plot twist on your part.”
“Forget about it,” I say, raising a hand and turning.
“Come on!” He throws a glove at me. “How’s the sex?”
“We’re not . . . not, uh . . . we only . . .”
“Show me with your hands.”
Jesus. “Just oral sex.” I step closer. “She texts me, asks me to come over earlier, and every single day, I do. Then I drop to my knees, and I...” I gesture vaguely at my mouth.
Kyle stares. “Every day?”
“Every day this week.”
“But she doesn’t?—”
“Nope.” I finally meet his gaze, immediately regretting it when I see the laugh he’s fighting to hold back.
“So . . . you’re her vibrator.”
I roll my eyes. “Basically. But that’s not the problem. I mean, it’s...” My hand will probably start to cramp soon enough. “The point is, we don’t kiss. We don’t do anything else. There’s nothing but that between us.”
Now it sounds like I want a relationship with her. Which I don’t—I obviously couldn’t even if I did.
“Sounds like your tongue is the only thing between you two.”
Ignoring him, I power on. “I just don’t know what to do.
Maybe I should resign—but I’d put Ian in a shitty position.
He’d have to come back, find someone else to send in my place.
So then...should I wait for him and Amelie to be back?
And do I come clean then? And if not, how will I justify quitting?
And what does that mean for Charlotte and me? ”
“I’m sorry, every day ? You just eat her up, then...?” He cackles. “Hey, it’s still better than all talk and no sex, right? At least you get something .”
Why am I here? Seriously . . . Kyle? Kyle?
I make a show of turning around and walking away, but he calls after me. “Where the hell are you going?”
“To talk to someone older than four.”
“Like who?” He waits for me to turn before he says, “Not your bestie, since she’s married to your boss. Not your brother, since he’s the one who got you the job. Would your ex-wife have anything insightful to say?”
My jaw clenches. “I get it.”
He steps closer, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I love this. Love it. It’s so fucking messy—I’m having the time of my life. But I gotta say, man, it’s good that you’re getting used to shit exploding in your face.”
My shoulders tighten. “This isn’t going to end well, is it?”
“Nope. Eventually, her mom’s going to find out she’s been paying you to tongue-fuck her daughter.”
I glare at him.
He widens his eyes dramatically. “ Ooh . The vibrator’s protective of his human.” His voice takes on a more serious timbre. “Dude, Logan’s not going to give you another chance. He’s just not. And you worked too hard to find your footing after Josie.”
I know. I fucking know. But she’s a siren, and I’m lost at sea. All I hear is her call. All I can do is respond.
“She makes me feel alive.” Besides Sadie, I’ve been so miserable. “My life has been a seven-year-long funeral. And now I feel like I’m back. Like I’m myself.”
He studies me, for once serious. He doesn’t have an answer—because there isn’t one. Either I keep going and let this inevitable train wreck hit me at full speed, or I end it and return to existing in a lifeless limbo.
I don’t know what’s worse.
“Hey, maybe you’ll meet someone else at the bachelor party.”
I blink at him. “Bachelor party?”
“Yeah. For Logan.”
Oh boy. “Let me stop you right there, Kyle. He’s not going to want that. And if he does, it’ll be at the farm. Us and the cows.”
“Or he doesn’t know that what he actually wants is a party. In a strip club. With lap dances, and drinks.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Huh?”
“He’s going to make you wear your ass like a hat.”
Kyle sighs dramatically. “What did you do for your bachelor party?”
My what? Josie and I got married in a rush after we found out about Sadie, not because we wanted to, but because her ultra-religious and old-fashioned family wouldn’t accept her having a child out of wedlock. “I didn’t have a bachelor party.”
“ Seriously? ” he screeches.
I flinch, bringing a hand to my chest. “Jesus Christ. You raise your voice like that only if there’s someone holding a gun to the back of my head.”
“What do you mean you didn’t have one?”
“I mean, my girlfriend was seven months pregnant, and neither my brother nor my best friends were speaking to me, so I didn’t have one.”
“Well, that’s unacceptable.” He claps. “We’ll just have a double bachelor party.”
“But I’m not a bachelor.”
He tilts his head. “Well . . . technically . . .”
“I’m a divorcé, not a bachelor. Oh, and also, I don’t want a bachelor party.”
“All right, then we’ll have a divorce party.”
I watch him with a less-than-patient glare. “Kyle, Logan doesn’t want a party. I don’t want a party. It’s his wedding, so how about we figure out something he’d enjoy? Like a...silent retreat in the forest?”
“Boring. The both of you. The boring Coleman brothers.”
I ignore him, dropping onto a log. Bachelor party or not, I’m not going to find someone who’ll distract me from Charlotte. Hell, I don’t even want to be distracted. I want her— more of her.
He settles on a different log, and for a while, we just sit there, the air smelling like pine and fresh-cut wood.
“So, another redhead, huh?” he says after a while. “Subconsciously trying to replace your ex-wife?”
“Jesus. I didn’t hold out auditions, Kyle.”
“I’m just saying it’s a recessive gene. Most people never get to date a redhead, and you’re two for two.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure, sure.” He leans back. “So about the strip club...”