Authors: Reese Madison
Choose wrong. Would I be choosing wrong to choose him? I don’t even know him.
When Trace handed me a plate of pancakes heavy with syrup and butter I rolled my eyes, “Would you like some pancakes with your syrup?”
He sat down close enough to graze my knee as he got comfortable. “Just a few. Pancakes are fattening.”
“Ha ha. If you keep cooking like this I’m going to weigh five hundred pounds.” Shit. Did I just make it sound like he’d be cooking for me again?
“When are you going to tell him?” He asked.
I swallowed, this time there was a pancake instead of an invisible tumbleweed, so that’s a nice change. For some unknown reason though, I feel the need to play stupid. “Tell who what?”
“When are you going to tell Jeremy it’s over?”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You didn’t have to say it, it’s written all over your face. You look like you can’t wait to get rid the guilt you’re feeling by sitting here with me right now.”
“You just want me for my cookies.” Maybe if I make light of this we can change the subject.
“I’m a snake charmer Cookie, not a panty charmer. Of course I want those cookies you’re trying to hide with those ugly sweats, but what I really want is that woman I met yesterday with the sparkle in her eyes.” He took a large syrupy bite dribbling on his goatee.
I found myself wanting to lick it off and kiss him with the sweet maple flavor mingling between us.
He wiped the syrup with his thumb then pressed it to my lower lip.
It took every ounce of self control I have not to lick his thumb. “What are we doing?”
He leaned over looking at my lip I’m trying not to suck clean between my teeth. “You have something on your lip.”
Those silver eyes have me caught in a tractor beam. Is he really here? Who is this man? Who cares? He’s mesmerizing. I felt his whiskers touch my mouth as his tongue made one small clean sweep across my lip.
I turned away before I kiss him. “I need a minute to think.”
He leaned in further and pressed his lips to my cheek. “Wear a dress tonight. I want to take you someplace nice, while I have the night off for a change.”
“What makes you think I want to go out with you tonight?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll repo the piglet.” He gave me a simple wink before letting himself back inside the house.
I hugged my Bits who is more interested in my pancakes than hugs and kisses. He better not take my piggy. I’ll sit on him. Squish him with my size fourteen butt. I doubt even I could squash Wrangler. He’s a lean mean muscle machine. I’d enjoy trying though.
“Bits!! Stop it!” That’s the fifth time he’s dumped his water dish in my studio.
“Excuse me?” Francine, my current caller, asked at my outburst.
“Sorry Francine. I have a new roommate, and he won’t stop toppling his water dish. Bad Bits, now knock it off.” I shooed him away with the help of a rolling tennis ball.
“A dog?” She asked.
“No. He’s a mini pot-bellied piglet. A friend of mine asked me to foster him for a couple weeks. I’m hoping I get to keep him. He really is a sweetheart, but he’s a menace, and a klutz.”
She laughed, “Oh my God. You have to put his picture on your Facebook page.”
“Good idea. Sorry for the interruption, where were we?” I sat back in my chair to watch Bits nose the tennis ball on the floor. He’ll do this as long as I’m looking at him. The second I turn away he runs over and dumps his water.
I called Jackson at four-thirty after my producer, Eddie, and sound guy, Barry, left.
When Jackson answered he didn’t sound too thrilled to hear from me. “Celeste. How was the show?”
“Amusing. I’m sorry I hung up on you this morning.”
“If I had known you weren’t listening I could have listened to the news instead of wasting my time, and cell phone minutes, on your brain fade.”
“Ouch.” Okay, I deserve that.
“And what’s this I hear about you fostering pigs??”
“It’s a long story.”
“And what friend of ours would give you a pig?”
“You don’t know him.”
“Him. Who is him?”
“The snake guy I called. I guess we’re friends now. I don’t know. He asked if I could watch the piglet. I’m thinking I’ll try to keep him. He’s really cute, and funny.” I touched noses with my new best friend.
“No Celeste. No pigs in the house.” Suddenly I miss my ridiculous nickname Cookie. Has Jerry, Jackson, shit, now I’m doing it, always sounded like such an ass?
“It’s my house.” I argued.
“I thought we were talking about getting married. That means we share our assets. Correct?”
“Yeah, about that. I don’t think I want to get married.”
“What about kids?? I thought you wanted the white picket fence and all that shit?”
“I got the impression you were more interested in dinners out with the boss and his hot blonde wife.”
“You know I like my women with a little meat on them.” He thinks he’s funny, but his fat jokes have never amused me the way everyone else’s do. His attempts at humor stink of ridicule.
I looked at my cell phone as my temper reach critical mass. “Asshole.” I threw the phone as hard as I could into the fireplace and dropped to the floor when it popped a little too loud. Like an electrical pop from a transformer.
I peeked up over the back of the couch as the smell hit us. “Time to get out of here Bits. Mommy made stinkies.” The smell of plastic burning is awful. I put my shirt over our noses and headed out front.
I have no idea where I’m going. Should I call the cops? Does a cell phone on fire make a toxic fume? Is that an emergency? I don’t think so, but then again, what if somebody breathes it in and dies??
Now I really don’t know what to do, or where to go.
I’m one of few people in the world that still need a landline. It’s mostly for the fax machine, but since I’m known to let my cell phone die more often than not, the landline serves two purposes.
Guess who I called.
He answered on the second ring. “Cookie?”
“I need you.” I choked on the words.
“I’m leaving now. What happened sweetheart? You sound scared.” His instant concern flooded me with emotion. “Are you at home?”
“Yes.” My voice cracked.
“Okay. Stay put. Talk to me. What happened?” I heard him start the engine of his truck and felt a whoosh of relief. He’s coming. I can breathe now. Wrangler will fix my stinky house.
“I threw my cell phone into the fireplace. I exploded something stinky. Bad stinky. I can’t get the smell out.” Do I tell him about the fat comment Jackson made?
“Are you in the house?”
“I’m outside, my cordless phone will only go as far as the mailbox.”
He chuckled.
“It’s not funny!!!” I smiled. Something inside me knew if he wasn’t worried, then I shouldn’t be either. “Stop laughing at me. This is all your fault.”
“I know Cookie. Open the garage door. I’ll have Sawyer bring a fan.” I love how he’s confidently taking control of the situation. All I have to do is follow orders and everything will be okay.
“Who is Sawyer?” I’m trying to compose myself with deep breaths.
“Sawyer. One of my many brothers. He’s also the AJ Fire Chief. They have huge fans that can clear a house in minutes. I think he’s at the the club, he usually goes by there at the end of his shift. He can grab a couple prospects to help him drag the fans over to air out your house.”
“No fire trucks. Holy crap my neighbors probably think I have a nest of snakes as it is.”
“No fire trucks, just a buggy. I promise.”
“A what? Seriously?? Horses??”
I can almost hear him shaking his head. “Horses, he’ll like that one. What are you wearing?”
“Jeans, a shirt, and a very confused piglet. Wrangler?”
“Trace.” He corrected.
“Trace. Can I ask you something completely off the wall?”
“Ask me anything you want.”
“Was it me, or my cookies that got your attention first?”
“I’ve senn a lot cookies my dear, but none that have your smile, your eyes, or your perfect body. Do you know what my favorite dessert is?” Is he trying to distract me?
I decided quickly to let him. “No. What is it?”
“Pumpkin pie. Want to know why?”
“Enlighten me.”
“The pumpkin is a versatile melon. It stores for long periods of time, up to five months in cooler climates. The seeds are full of nutrients, and there’s plenty in each ripe one for reproduction. They thrive in both hot and cold weather if you know what you’re doing. And if you take special care of them, pluck them when they’re just ripe with pulp, you can warm and massage the flesh until it’s soft and smooth, making a sweet pie. A pie that when mixed with cream, makes you want to melt away with the spices on your tongue.”
I sat on the ground slowly as he spoke this food porn to me. I don’t know if I’m hungry or horny!!
“Cookie?”
“I love pie.” I can’t get past the cream yet, hold on. Might need a minute to reboot here. Breathe.
He chuckled. “Stand up sweetheart. I’m here, Sawyer’s right behind me.”
I shook off the pie porn and stood on shaky legs. Wow, he’s fast.
Trace caught my face in his hands as a large white pickup truck pulled in behind him. “You okay?” Impossibly light blue eyes studied my face as they creased with concern.
“Aside from the pie-gasm you just gave me in the driveway!! I’m fine!” I smacked his chest lightly, “What was that? Pie poetry?”
“Who’s roasting cell phones?? Pew!!” A man carrying a large round metal fan headed towards my front door.
I dropped my forehead to Trace’s chest with Bits between us in my arms. “Oh my God. I am such an idiot.”
He’s shaking as his chuckle threatens to make me mad all over again. “Sorry Cookie. It’ll be over in a few minutes. When the guys get done here we’ll go in, you can tell me what happened.”
I stepped back forcing myself to be stronger than this. “Do you mind explaining to me how you can take an otherwise innocent pumpkin, and turn it into pie erotica??”
“I like pie.” He shrugged hooking me under his arm and stepping aside to make room for the guy who put the fan in the opening of my front door. “Celeste, this is my half-brother Sawyer. Sawyer, my girl Celeste.”
Sawyer held his hand out for me to shake, “I take it you’re the cell phone killer?”
“That’s me. Thank you for coming out. I’m really sorry.”
“That’s okay, my guys are in there cleaning out your kitchen.”
“What?”
“They found the cupcakes ma’am. Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all.
I laughed feeling relieved that somebody is finding some good out of this. I’m humiliated. “They’re welcome to whatever they want. I’ll bring some more to the firehouse tomorrow.”
He patted Trace on the shoulder, “Keep her.” Then ran back inside.
“Does everyone in your family have a sweet tooth?”
“Those are for Kris. I think it’s date night.”
“Kris?”
“Oh, uh, she’s kind of his girlfriend. I think I’ll wait and explain that one another time.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need explanations. I need wine and a nap.” I covered a yawn.
“Did you break it off with Jud?”
I laughed and smacked his stomach just hard enough to make a slight slap. “Jackson. I think I did. I mean, I wanted to. I threw my phone into the fireplace before I got the words out. Do you know what he said to me??” I looked up wondering if this is a mistake.
That concerned look is back, with a peppering of protective possessiveness. “What did he say to you?”
“I accused him of drooling over his boss’s skinny blonde wife. He denied it saying how I know he likes his women big. Basically he called me fat. He thinks he’s funny, but it never comes off that way.”
He raised an eyebrow, “He should meet my aunt. That’s a big woman.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Seriously, she’s pushing four hundred pounds.”
“If you tell me you like big women I’m going to punch you in your perfect abs.”
“How do you know they’re perfect?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“You changed the subject talking about my perfect abs.”
I giggled and poked him in his perfect rib. “Very funny.”
Sawyer came back with a cake, “Hey, can I bring this holder thing back tomorrow?”
“Yes. I won’t need those again for a couple days. Take whatever you want, I’ll come get the containers in the morning on my way back from Verizon.”
“Haw!! Score!!” He thrust his invisible sword in the air at the guy coming out, “Seize the booty boys!! The Cappy says we can have all we can carry!!”
I doubled over again. “That man ain’t right.” I can’t stop laughing.
“They don’t get out much.”
The guys finally cleaned me out. Literally. Not that I mind. The house smells good. Like my neighbors fireplace burning. I like that. Bits went outside to reclaim his territory as I closed windows and turned off a few of the unnecessary fans.
Trace is cleaning up the carnage of my kitchen. “Sorry about my brother.”
“Don’t be. I haven’t laughed that hard in years. I’m amazed he was able to grab two guys and get out here so fast.”
“He was at the club waiting for his shift to end. Those two weren’t fire fighters. They were prospects.”
“Club? Prospects? What are you talking about?”
“Exiles. You know, the motorcycle club in AJ.”
“Yeah, but… oh. Oh. Oh shit.” I took a little better look at Wrangler. Trace. “Santa Fe.”
He looked suspicious and tossed the dish towel to the counter. “That’s where I moved from. Did I tell you that?”
“No. Is your last name Colson?”
“Yes.” He’s about to gnaw on his lip.
“We can’t see each other.” Shit!! This is just my luck.
“You’re going to have to tell me why.” He followed me to the living room where I stood by my gas fireplace. I wonder if you can burn real wood in this thing.
I cringed when he bore down using his height to stop my pacing. “You need to talk to Robert, I mean Slider. I can’t talk to you about it. He has to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Intimidation is all but oozing from his pores. Colson. All Colson.
“Go talk to him.”
“We’re supposed to be going out to dinner.” He argued.
“I need to get dressed if we’re still going out. Honestly, I don’t think you’ll be back. Go see your brother. Please.”
Don’t
take
the
pig.
Don’t
take
the
pig.
I prayed to myself.
He studied me for a moment too long, “I’m not going to take your pig. What kind of man do you think I am?” How does he do that?? Maybe it was written all over my face. I love the little Bacon Bits. He’s my baby.
I exhaled, “I think you’re a good man, but I really need you to go see your brother.”
“Shit.” He cursed and stepped back to withdraw his phone from his front shirt pocket.
“Wrangler, go see him. Don’t call.”
“Don’t tell me how to talk to my brother, and don’t call me Wrangler. What did I tell you about that?” He turned away from me into his phone. “Hey. I need to know why a doctor Celeste Skye is telling me to call you before I kiss her.”
There was a long silence that sent me to the kitchen. I don’t want to hear this.
Slider, aka Robert Colson Jr., is a patient. One I inherited from my father. My father is still alive and well, he’s just retired. The patients he coveted most were given to me the day of his accident. That’s when my father became the patient in more ways than one.
He was hit by a truck driver who fell asleep behind the wheel, then dragged more yards than I care to remember. The fact that he survived is a miracle. The struggle to maintain that survival has been pure hell, for him, and for our family.
I took a trip down memory lane while staring out the window to the mountains. It’s getting dark. Little hooves are tip-toeing across my floor. It’s peaceful and suddenly lonely at the same time.
Everything is riding on Slider. If he says not to date his shrink, Trace will have to walk out that door and never look back. Just like the accident forced my dad to quit riding and never look back.
I miss the days when he’d take me on rides. We grew up taking turns going for rides with Daddy. Sometimes it was just around the block, other times it was for hours at a time to pick up parts, or meet with friends that lived far from town. I wiped a tear away as Trace’s arms came around me from behind.
He nosed my hair away from my ear. “You worry too much. He said you’re fired. Then he re-hired you because he can’t trust anyone else. I had to swear an oath, and promise him our first child as a sacrifice for the club, but I knew you’d understand.”
His words both soothed, and amused. “You’re terrible. What did he really say?”
“He said not to tell me where the bodies are buried.”
“I don’t know where the bodies are buried.”
“Exactly.” He turned me around in his arms and lifted my chin. “Don’t talk to me about Slider, and I won’t ask you to. Between you and me, if it’s something that could possibly save his life, you get a free pass to talk to me, and me alone. Fair enough?”
“Fair enough.” The only excuse for breaking the coveted oath of privacy is if there’s a life depending on the information. In a way it’s a relief to know I have someone I can go to if I feel Slider is in trouble.
“Now. Would you like to go out to a nice dinner?”
“I would, but what do we do with Bits?”
“Put him in his carrier. He’ll be alright for a couple hours.”
I pouted at the idea.
He closed his eyes, then opened them slowly, “You’re going to spoil him.”