Whiskey Sharp: Torn

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Whiskey Sharp: Torn Page 15

by Lauren Dane


  Rachel was one of those people who listened more than she spoke. She was insightful—though not always when it came to her own baggage—and had excellent advice. It meant she not only understood Cora, but saw right down through all Finley’s layers to the battered heart of her.

  Rachel continued, “I don’t usually get between you and Bee. I love your sister and I know you do too. But whatever it is, whatever she took on as you and your siblings were growing up, it’s burned some important bridges between them. I don’t want to see that be you. I like this Cora. Happy and all schmoopy over someone who deserves it. Excited about her career. This is good for you.”

  “Bee and Javi had to raise us. You know that.” Whatever the present, Cora knew without a doubt that her two oldest siblings were the reason she was sitting there that day. They’d done the work her mom just couldn’t or didn’t want to.

  “You were a teenager when you started working for your mom too. And don’t even get me started on Javier.” Rachel shook her head.

  “I haven’t spoken to him about this whole situation. But he’ll be supportive.”

  “Do you know that for the first few years I knew you, Maybe and I thought Javi was the youngest and Beto was the oldest? Because your big brother is a baby. Don’t defend him. I don’t want to hear it. He did what he did when you needed it and I am grateful obviously as I adore you. But he ran off, like Bee did. Only he stayed gone. He reverted to some kind of perpetual state of acting like he’s twenty-three.”

  Cora loved how fierce Rachel got in her defense. Especially when it was hard for Cora to do it herself.

  “I hope he finds what he needs. Hell, I hope he figures out what he needs, and then goes out and grabs it for himself.” Cora shrugged. “I can’t do this for him. Or for Bee. Or anyone else but me. I love running the gallery. It’s not like I’m doing more than I did before, it’s that I’m doing it with the knowledge that I’ll be doing it next year and beyond. I love that. And I’m selfish enough to know it’s selfish. And to do it anyway.”

  “I don’t agree that it’s selfish for you to want your own damned life. Your mom has one. She’s got to let you have one too. If your dad gets involved, it should be good too I think. Hey, what are you doing tonight anyway? Maybe and Alexsei are coming over to hang out. I was going to order pizza. Vic will bring home a bunch of sweet stuff. We can gossip more.” Rachel reached out to take Cora’s hand, squeezing it a moment.

  “I’m meeting Beau in an hour. He’s looking at some houses tonight and wants my opinion. Which is pretty sweet.” She remembered to update them on the note on her door and then the whole story about his kids.

  “It’s got to be a big mind fuck to have grown up that way to start with. But he overcame it. Even so, he lost his children. That’s just awful. I don’t even know how you could get over something like that. He lost his whole family. Everything and everyone he’d ever known. I’m glad he’s got his close group of friends who are so protective of him. Like say, my friends who checked into who he was when he came around me at first.”

  Rachel snickered. “Look, I have skills. I need to use them from time to time or they get rusty. And you’re important. You’re our family. We don’t want anyone messing with you. So yes. Maybe and I talked and I looked around. Just to be sure he wasn’t hiding anything big. I’m betting someone on his team looked into you. I would.”

  “Oh god, what if he finds out about my secret life fighting crime?”

  Rachel nodded. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

  Vic walked in and strolled their way but got snagged by Alexsei so they got to talk about him.

  “How’s pregnancy going?” Cora asked.

  “Vic has decided to follow me around and ask if I need anything to eat or if perhaps I should nap. Pretty much constantly. He’s like a giant version of his mother, who also comes to our house to follow me around and ask me if I’m hungry or if I need a nap. It’s easy for her to do that because like a dumbass, I moved in with my boyfriend who lives in a house pretty much across the street from his parents. This is going to be a really long nine months.”

  Cora snorted. “I bet you won’t have to make a meal for yourself until the kid is in middle school though.” Irena Orlova was a force of nature. A nurturing, avenging badass who baked bread and managed a lot of big giant alpha males like it was easy. Cora adored Vic’s mother but she knew Rachel was going to have to fend off all sorts of well-meaning intrusions. Especially now that she was pregnant and officially marrying Vic.

  “Probably.” Rachel’s annoyance seemed far outweighed by the affection in her tone. “Keeps the Orlovas busy if they can make food and cluck over people. I have to keep all this in mind for when I’m further along in my pregnancy and slower to get away.”

  “Just one of the many reasons I think Vic is going to be an awesome dad. I mean, just think of all the photo opportunities with big giant dude holding sweet tiny baby,” Cora said. “But when it gets too much, you have a key to my house. You’re always welcome to hide there. Knock first because now I’m having sexual relations on a very regular basis and you never know if I’m doing it on my kitchen counter.”

  “Was that bragging?” Rachel asked.

  “It totally was. Are you jealous? Did it work?” Cora teased.

  “I’m knocked up because I was getting it on the regular. And you’ve seen my man. I have no jealousy in that department,” Rachel said. “But I’m fucking thrilled for you. Because you deserve it. And Beau is pretty snacktastic as the kids say.”

  “He totally is. I’ve never in my life been with someone just so gorgeous. And capable. He cooks for me after he makes me come. Like, how did that even happen? Whatever the case, I am all in on this.”

  Cora stayed for a little while longer before heading home to change before Beau came by to pick her up.

  * * *

  BEAU STOOD IN the wide-open farmhouse-style kitchen of the third house of the night. “What do you think?” he asked Cora.

  She walked through the space, opening drawers and peeking into cabinets. “You’re the cook.”

  “Yes, but I know what I think of this kitchen as a cook. I want to hear what Cora thinks about it.”

  Her grin was quick and filled him with pleasure. “All right. All the windows will give you plenty of daylight, and though it’s dark, I can tell you for sure that your view will be gorgeous. Skylights too.” She tipped her chin upward. “I love the white cabinets. Very clean and bright. The granite countertops are fabulous. The floors—the real estate agent said they were specially done for you to stand on comfortably for long periods of time?”

  He nodded, watching her as she rocked back and forth on her heels a few times, and then bounced. He especially liked the bouncing part.

  “I’m no expert, but I wish I could have the gallery floors done like this. It really does seem to absorb the impact but it’s still really nice. The dark wood is contemporary and classic at the same time. Sexy. It would probably look good on camera and you have the space for sure.”

  It was the largest kitchen of all the houses the agent was showing him, she’d mentioned. And it felt big. Open with a sizable island in the center that would indeed be perfect for filming him behind.

  “The pendant lights are fantastic. I love the touch of copper. I can see you cooking here. For me, obviously,” she added with a smirk that made him step to her for a quick kiss.

  “Obviously my cooking is primarily for you, yes.” He kissed her again. “However, one does make a living from being filmed while cooking so there is that.”

  She snorted. “Whatever. As long as your priorities are in order we’ll be fine.”

  “I do make it my aim to keep you well fed.”

  “You do succeed on multiple levels,” she said in an undertone. Speaking normally again—though the real estate agent was actually outside—Cora said, “The color sch
eme makes you look super sexy. Highlights all your gingery goodness.”

  “You’re really good for my ego, gorgeous.” And she was. In so many ways. He took her hand and tugged her through the kitchen and attached dining room and into the large living room with soaring ceilings and a wall of windows that looked out over a sizable yard and Puget Sound beyond.

  “What’s this area like?” he asked her.

  “This is Magnolia. Swanky digs. It’s quiet and you have great views because you’re on the bluff. Even better, this house is set back and the agent said they’d done some sort of work to put thingamabobs down into the foundation under the house, which made it extra safe or whatever.”

  Certainly Cora had her own way of delivering information but it was what he’d been interested to know and he got what she meant, remembering the things the agent had said after she’d given them a quick tour of the house, and then had left them to wander some more alone.

  The place was stunning. One of a kind as it had been a custom build. The master suite took up half the second floor with foldaway glass doors that opened the entire room out to a balcony that spanned the entirety of the back of the house. The views would be part of the high price tag, he knew.

  Heated floors in all the bathrooms and gas fireplaces in each of the six bedrooms. Two walk-in closets in the master and it pleased him. He’d offer one to her, entice her to spend time with him there.

  The lot itself was barely shy of an acre and at the end of a street so if he had a crew in to film it wouldn’t rile the neighbors. The way the house was designed meant unobstructed views and privacy from every room.

  Still in the city but it felt removed from it. Quiet. Way closer to the gallery than the other houses he’d looked at too. He wanted her with him as much as possible so it made sense to make it easier for her. Not having to deal with the hell of the bridges trying to get into Seattle, even midmorning when the gallery opened, would be a very good thing.

  They looked at one last house before he drove them back to her place.

  Once she’d changed into pajamas and washed her makeup off—he fucking loved to watch her do lady stuff—they’d settled on the couch with a cup of tea.

  Because he knew she’d wait until asked before giving him an opinion, he asked, “What do you think of the places we saw tonight?”

  “That second one? In the middle of the woods. Totally quiet. Three acres. The house was on a river and the kitchen looked out over it so that was nice. I think you’d need to invest in another generator as the one it has only works on a few things and the house is so big. And your power will go out because you’re in the middle of the woods. It’ll be gorgeous in the winter when it snows. And if you don’t have to drive anywhere it’s even better.”

  He had a gut-wrenching hatred of rural or off-the-grid living. He would never go back to that place. Not willingly.

  “I hadn’t thought about that. See you’re helping already. I don’t like the idea of the power going out. Are generators a common thing up here?”

  “Well, not here where you and I are living now. But certainly out where several of the places we looked at tonight are will have power outages. Windstorms are common enough. Rain most definitely and snow too. So if you have a generator you can keep the fridge going. The freezer. There were gas fireplaces, which is nice so you don’t have to worry about burn bans and they’re good to heat the house if the power goes out.”

  Hmm.

  “What did you think of the Magnolia house?” he asked.

  “It and the last one we saw were the only ones not on at least two acres. But it’s the closest in to the city. I loved the kitchen, most definitely, and though it was dark outside, the yard and all the outside entertainment spaces had really nice energy and the lighting is really lovely so it would be really easy to be out there a lot, even in the fall and winter when it gets dark early.

  “I can’t really speak about camera or filming stuff but it seemed bright and open enough that a big guy could be comfortable. That last house we looked at, and the first one too, the kitchens were big if they were like, my kitchen. But you’re a tall guy—you didn’t have to stoop or anything but it really did feel cramped.”

  He nodded because he agreed. “And how far is it to the gallery from there?”

  “Like ten, fifteen minutes most of the day. Commute time you’re going to face longer, but it’s not like it would be with the first four houses you looked at. Add another five or ten to get to Ian’s,” she added before he could even ask.

  “Okay, I like that. All of that. Which house do you like best?”

  “Which house do you like best?” she countered.

  “I know which house I like best. That’s why I’m asking you what your favorite is.”

  She rolled her eyes. “The Magnolia house. Part of that is selfish because it’s closest to my job and it’s like ten minutes from Maybe’s and Rachel’s houses. And I already have art in mind for your bedroom. I mean, you probably already have art for your house. Can’t stop won’t stop when it comes to art. But I think you knew that.”

  He squeezed her calf. “I might have figured it out. Magnolia is my favorite too. By a lot. It’s not just the fact that it’s close in to everyone I like being around. The design, the way the lot was used, the light and all that stuff just blew me away. I really don’t want to mess around with generators or any of that stuff that comes with more rural living. Plus the house there has a three-car garage so you’ll always have a place to park.”

  She blushed. “Well. Thank you. Are you going to make an offer then?”

  “I told her I’d call her tomorrow to let her know. I’ll go in all cash just to be done. I hate dealing with all that paperwork otherwise.”

  Her snort had him giving her the eye. “What?”

  “I just thought how far you’d come from that kid who’d lived in a house without electricity to a guy who can fork over millions of dollars for a house with radiant heated floors overlooking the Puget Sound.”

  “I do think about it. Every day when I turn on the water and it’s hot. When I flip on the lights or get things from the fridge. When I’m warm in the winter and cool in the summer. It’s a universe away and I prefer that.” Clothes that fit. Doctor visits when he needed them. An education. Freedom.

  Understanding softened Cora’s features.

  “I think about how my kids grew up without those comforts and it fills me with rage.”

  “I wish I could fix it. I hate seeing that look on your face. I hate that their mother stole them from you. I would very much like to punch her in the cooter.”

  Damn, he fucking loved her.

  “I suppose I should say that’s terrible and not to say such things. But she took my kids so I don’t feel much charity toward her. But for tonight let’s put all that to the side. I just decided to buy a house and to tell you the truth, I’m creatively energized by that kitchen. I have some new ideas to incorporate into the pitch now.”

  “I’m so pleased for you. I can’t deny the appeal of you making a permanent home for yourself up here. And those heated floors in all your bathrooms.”

  “I can’t believe we haven’t had the time to discuss the lunch with your parents today. Other than your texts that it went fine, do you want to elaborate?”

  She shrugged. “It did go okay. She balked a bit. Tried to talk around it. Went on about how I was abandoning her and how she was a burden. But I placed the ads when we left and I’ll be moving this process right along now that I’ve told her.”

  “Big day for Beau and Cora, eh?” he said with a smile.

  “Yeah, pretty much. Come to bed. I want you to sex me up. I’ll sex you up back. It’ll be lovely.”

  Laughing, he got up, tugging her to her feet and then to her room, where he closed the door behind them and made it just the two of them with nothing more to do than get
naked and feel good.

  A big day indeed. Ending with what was by far his favorite thing—and woman—to do.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “BY THE WAY, my parents always have a big pre-Thanksgiving dinner for friends and family the week before the actual holiday. I’ve been instructed to invite you,” Cora told Beau just a few days later.

  Her mother had called earlier that day to tell Cora it was more than time for her to bring Beau around for inspection. Though they’d met him at the gallery and her mother sort of knew him from the old days, it cheered her that her parents were including Beau in what was one of their longest-standing family traditions.

  They were furniture shopping for Beau as his offer on the house had been accepted and he’d be moving in two weeks.

  “Really?” He smiled as he brought her close to his side. “When, and what should I bring?”

  “Next Saturday and you don’t need to bring anything but you and some wine. My dad loves a glass of port at the end of a meal. I can even tell you his favorite label,” Cora told him as she wrapped her arm around his waist.

  The salesperson was beside himself with joy. He kept stealing looks at Beau, and who was Cora to be offended? Beau was gorgeous. And rich and famous and was going to buy a bunch of stuff.

  “I gave my couches away and my mattresses. No use moving them up here. I have a huge farmhouse table that will be perfect in the dining room, but I’d like to go with that same theme on the lower level where the common areas are,” Beau murmured as he examined a light gray couch.

  “Is it weird how anxious I am to see your art? Because I am. And that’s not even a euphemism.” She shook her head no when he pointed to a grotesque chair she’d set on fire if he actually bought.

  “Your expression just now makes me think you’d be terrible at poker,” he said with laughter in his voice.

 

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