Chapter 20Liem
20
Liem
My first sunrise back in Bay Springs was barely perceptible.
Muted, even.
I’d been at the gazebo for the better part of an hour and was glad I hadn’t brought anything but my small notebook. If it started raining, like the clouds had been threatening, between now and when I needed to go home to get ready for work, I could easily keep it sheltered under my shirt as I ran back to the cottage.
Thinking of Ireland and her many phone alarms, I quickly set one for when I’d need to head back.
My notebook lay open on my lap, and I had to squint to make out what I’d previously drawn and written, so I reached over to the gazebo’s power and switched on the lights in the rafters. The scattered, warm glow filled the space even as dawn’s natural light stayed firmly hidden behind thick, dark clouds.
With sufficient light and a clear head, I set to work on a list of classes for the Locc.
I had a vivid dream last night about painting a mural in the main hallway, so I started with that, roughly sketching a wall with a grid pattern and brainstorming ways to divide the work between several people and classes.
It wasn’t perfect, and even I could see there would be obstacles to such a big project, but I drew a star on the paper and wrote a note to my future self to ask Ari to look over the plan and mend the gaps in it.
A breeze blew my hair forward, and I closed my eyes, leaning into the feeling and inhaling deeply on instinct.
Cherries. Coconut.
My heart skipped a beat and sped up into double time as I heard his voice, but it was the language he spoke that had my heart leaping out of my body entirely.
“ Laissez les bons temps rouler , Ti Bet.”
I turned in my seat, nearly knocking heads with Cody. Leaning back, I barely registered the clatter of my pencil as it hit the wooden floor. He had somehow climbed up the outside of the balcony and was leaning over the white wooden rail, mere inches from me and with a giant smile on his face.
He glistened with a layer of perspiration, his chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace, and his hazel eyes were bright.
My heart stopped leaping so it could soar.
“Happy Mardi Gras to you, too, Dezi,” I replied after a deep breath. “Are you… running from something in particular?”
He leaped over the railing and took a seat beside me, setting a thin track jacket beside him and groaning loudly as he spread his legs wide.
Pulling my notebook over my lap, I drank in all that he was as he spoke.
“Day two of hell, LL. I just finished another leg of the Race to Mordor with my dad.” He let his head fall backward, elongating and exposing his throat.
My fingers twitched, desperate to commit the curve to my notebook. And inside my brain. On my skin. But instead of picking up my pencil, I hummed, feigning cool and calm.
It was the only shield I had against such a display.
He turned his head toward me with a smirk. “When I make it to Mount Doom, I win a prize.”
Angling my head in return, I inquired, “And will you argue about accepting it as you did with the key chain?”
His hazel eyes narrowed on me, and his chest visibly rumbled as he answered, “No.” A faint smile played on his lips as he reached into the pocket of his running shorts and pulled out his key chain, resting it on his thigh. He fiddled with the keys before snaking the macrame leaf between his thumb and forefinger and stroking his thumb across it. “No,” he repeated. “I’ll have earned it.”
I swallowed roughly as my gaze traced the curve of him again, but as much as I sometimes liked to breeze past social cues, in this instance, I respected it.
Cody had shared, but he wasn’t inviting more right now. Not by his body language, and not with his words.
Instead of probing further, I sat my notebook aside and joined him in his silence, resting my head against the rail and bathing myself in the shared quiet.
The sunrise may have been shrouded this morning, but Cody’s warm presence beside me felt so much like one that I didn’t mourn it.
I basked in that warmth until my phone vibrated across the wooden bench, signaling that it was time to go.
I peeked over at Cody to find him already looking at me, a frown on his tanned, slightly flushed face.
“Headed to Ari’s?” he asked, guessing mostly correctly as he handed me both my phone and forgotten pencil.
I pocketed them before stretching luxuriously, my shoulder popping loudly with the effort before I scooped up my notebook and stood up. “Yes. Southern Mississippi calls for biscuits, and I must answer. I’ve just gotta go by the cottage first.”
He rose, our arms brushing as we exited through the narrow gazebo opening and stepped down into the muggy, early March morning. As we strode across the dewy lawn, Cody remained close enough that my shoulder brushed his bicep every few steps.
I’d been so focused on my mindful breathing exercises that when Cody suddenly yanked me back and I collided into his chest, I had no automatic reaction. My mind was blank. But based on how rapidly his chest was heaving underneath my cheek and how wild his eyes looked when I carefully pulled back and looked at him, he must’ve been doing whatever the opposite of conscious breathing was.
“Hands and feet inside this mortal plane, Ti Bet,” he gritted out, his hands flexing where one grasped my bicep and the other my lower back.
I tore my eyes away and saw the cyclist I’d nearly been clipped by zooming down the road. I glanced back at Cody, my eyes wide and heart catching up, beating more rapidly by the moment. Even if I did leave this mortal plane, Vinh would probably manage to find and chew me out there too. And based on how fiercely Cody held me and how his grip tightened when I tried to step back, I thought he might be there right alongside him.
We locked eyes for a tense moment, his hazel eyes somehow seeming mossier in the faint light, and just as I opened my mouth to thank him in some way, the heavens opened up and dumped a barrage of water over the entirety of Bay Springs.
Cody jumped into action, scooping up his jacket and wrapping it around my notebook—both items having fallen without my notice during the incident. He glared at the sky as best he could with raindrops pelting his face and tucked the cocooned notebook under his arm before grabbing my hand. His grip was firm as he tugged me across the street—after pointedly and rather dramatically looking both ways, even in the downpour—and towed me as quickly as possible to the short side street near the cottage.
And then his hold changed.
I thought he was going to let go, and maybe he did too. At first, he relaxed his grip and let his hand slide down mine. But when he reached the tips of my fingers, his gaze flicked from the path ahead down to our hands, and he grasped my hand again instead and then tightly interlaced our fingers.
He pulled me to his side and whispered in my ear, “Tell me if this hurts your palms.”
Never. I would not respect those wishes.
Cody continued tugging me along, his long legs having not broken their stride at all during any of it. Trusting him to steer us true, I kept my gaze locked firmly on my left hand, at the line tattoos of flowers across my knuckles that were obscured by his long fingers and the droplets of rain cascading down our skin.
I lost my breath.
“Careful,” he rumbled as my toe hit the first step to the cottage door, and I followed his direction, shifting my gaze to my booted feet and carefully stepping up onto the porch after him.
The door swung open before we reached it, and Bree and Vinh stepped out, the quiet chatter between them ceasing as they noticed us, drenched and holding hands.
“Breesoph, Vinhdiagram,” Cody greeted before brushing past them right into the house, pulling me along and kicking the door behind us once we were inside.
He released my hand, and I just stood there, letting the water drip from my clothes and hair as Cody did the same in front of me, close enough that I could reach out and touch the droplets if the desire struck.
I was certainly stricken.
But instead, I watched his wet shirt stretch across his back as he took two long inhales before he asked, “How soon do you need to be at the restaurant?”
“Soon,” I whispered to his back. “Really soon.”
Cody’s fist clenched at his side, and he forced his shoulders down before turning to me and unwrapping my notebook, which was perfectly dry, and holding it out to me. Our fingers grazed when I reached for it, and for a long moment, we both held it between us. Then he swallowed roughly before dropping his hand and asking, “Mind if I shower before we go? I’ll be quick.”
The notebook transferred fully to my grip and fell heavily to my side. Cody’s gaze tracked the movement, and he stared at my hand for one heartbeat, then turned on his heel and went straight to the bathroom without waiting for an answer.
Not that he needed one—or permission.
The sound of the shower turning on broke the trance, and I trudged into my room, depositing the notebook on its shelf before quickly drying off, then changing into a dry, deep-red sleeveless shirt and black pants.
I sat on the edge of my bed, facing the living room as I braided my damp hair back and willed my breaths to even.
My efforts were utterly sabotaged when Cody eased out of the bathroom, steam billowing around him and a towel fighting for its life around his hips. He scanned the living room as if he’d find clothes there.
Mustering my strength, because like the towel, I was also fighting for my life, I got up and pulled a shirt for him from my chest of drawers but paused over the pants. Cody Desmond squeezing himself into a pair of my bottoms would end with my having a heart attack.
Instead, I stepped into the living room and tossed Cody the shirt. He reached for it, and I snapped my gaze away just in time as the towel abandoned ship and hit the floor. I kept my eyes averted like a gentleman as I calmly let myself into Vinh and Bree’s room.
That outcome of throwing the shirt had not been intentional. Just a happy accident that I wasn’t meant to be happy about.
Yet.
Mildly violating Vinh’s privacy, I rooted around in his drawers and pulled out a pair of boxers, socks, and track pants, taking more time than was necessary in the hope—please, God!—that Cody would be sufficiently covered when I came back out.
When I did hesitantly reenter the living room, it was to find him smirking at me, his muscles bulging under one of my custom heather gray Ari’s shirts. My gaze flicked down, and I internally sighed in both relief and despair to see the towel resecured around his hips.
“Ti Bet,” he murmured in amusement as I arced past him and set the offered clothes on the bathroom vanity.
When I turned back to him, he was already walking toward me, swerving just a bit at the last second and brushing by me as he whispered, “Little Beast.”
The bathroom door shut, and I once again found myself frozen. I wasn’t just breathless but was holding my breath, only letting it go when the door swung back open and Cody emerged fully clothed.
“I’m gonna have to wear my wet shoes, aren’t I?” he asked with a frown.
I glanced down at his feet and frowned in sympathy. “Yes. Unless you wanna try a pair of Vinh’s shoes.”
He wrinkled his nose. “No, thanks.”
The simple interaction set me somewhat back to normal, and when we got to the front door, Cody opened it for me and gestured for me to go ahead. I did, and he used his own key to the cottage to lock up. I engaged the alarm on my phone, and we were soon loaded up into his truck and on the way to Ari’s with only a few raindrops on our heads and shoulders.
“Does it smell a touch smoky to you?” I inquired as I sniffed faintly, hoping he wasn’t having an electrical issue.
Cody’s gaze flickered to me as he pulled out of the driveway, his fingers thrumming against the steering wheel.
I frowned at the movement. “You can tell me.”
He let out a breath. “I know, Ti Bet. I just don’t think I have enough time to get into it right now.”
Nodding, I thought it over and took a small step forward. “Do you want to pick me up when Ari’s closes and go to the pier?”
I let the implication that we could talk about it then linger, unspoken.
“No,” he answered immediately, but when he glanced at me and saw whatever my face was doing, he quickly added, “Because I’m not leaving. I’m staying to help.”
I straightened in my seat and didn’t hide my smile. “That will make today even better. Bree will be happy too.”
His answering smile wasn’t quite as bright as I’d hoped, but it was still beautiful.
The gravel lot of Ari’s came into view just a couple minutes later and was already half full. Thankfully the rain had turned from downpour to light mist, which meant the patrons would probably not be utilizing the patio, either getting their food to go or cramming themselves inside the small indoor dining space.
Cody put the truck into Neutral, pushed down the e-brake, and shut off the engine, his movements fluid. When he took off his seat belt, he shifted uncomfortably and grimaced before commanding, “Stay here.”
He got out of the truck, closed the door, and disappeared from view.
A few seconds later at most, Cody opened his door again and threw something inside.
“Here, Ti Bet. I just couldn’t do it.”
I frowned down at the bundle that had landed in my lap briefly as Cody left in rather a hurry, slamming the door behind him and traversing the ramp to the side entrance of Ari’s in record time. Bewildered, I processed that Vinh’s crumpled boxers were in my lap.
My eyes flashed back up to the ramp, where Cody was standing in the open doorway with Bree, whose red hair was unmistakable even in the morning’s hazy, darkened light. I looked down at the boxers again and turned the implications over what he’d just done in my head.
What a rascal.
I was about to get out of this truck and work Fat Tuesday at a breakfast-and-brunch shack with my entire family—sans Uncle Gil—and with Dezi, all the while carrying the knowledge of… this.
A commando Cody.
The only thing that rivaled the power of that knowledge was the unforgettable, soul-changing feel of his hand in mine.
With no idea what to make of it all, I stuffed Vinh’s boxers into the glove box before exiting the truck. I manually locked the door, closed it carefully, and accepted my fate.
Laissez les bons temps rouler.