I dip my spoon in the peanut butter again. This isn’t my home. It’s Cody’s. And he’s been perfectly sweet and chivalrous by letting me stay. I’m imposing on his hospitality. I’m well enough, I can get around on my own just fine, and I have a job. There’s no reason for me to keep making this wonderful man sleep on his own couch. It’s ridiculous.
The doorknob wiggles and turns. I sit up, wondering why Cody is home.
The door opens, and a woman walks in.
I know instantly it’s Jennifer. She has a classic resting bitch face that would make Vivien Leigh jealous. And who else would have a key to Cody’s house?
Oh fuck, she’s breaking in when she thinks no one is home. Oh, hell no.
I push the blanket off my legs so it’s clear I’m only half-dressed, and mess up my curls. It takes another second for her to notice me, and her eyes widen.
She has straight brown hair with caramel highlights that are too perfect to be natural. Her makeup is very practiced—thick eyeliner and dark lips, every bit of it flawless, if a little heavy. She’s wearing a beige blouse tucked into a dark pencil skirt and, I have to admit, very cute leopard-print heels.
“Excuse me,” she says, walking down the short hallway. “Who the fuck are you?”
I lick my spoon. Any thoughts I had of being nice to her flee instantly. “I’m Clover. Who the fuck are you?”
“Clover?” she asks.
I smile at her as she looks me up and down, and stay relaxed, as if I totally belong here.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
“Actually, the question is, why are you here?” I ask. “Somehow I don’t think Cody is going to be pleased to find out you’re breaking into his house.”
“I am not breaking in,” she says.
I roll my eyes. “Does he know you’re here? Because I’ll just call him and find out, if you want.” I reach for my phone.
Her lips pinch together in a thin line. God, she’s unpleasant looking. I can see why some men might consider her attractive—she has good features—but her awful personality ruined it within the first five seconds.
“No, you don’t need to call him,” she says. “I only came by to get some things I left here.”
I scratch the back of my leg to call attention to the fact that they’re bare. I hope she can tell I’m wearing Cody’s shirt. Her eyes tighten.
This is deliciously fun.
“I’m pretty sure Cody threw your shit away,” I say.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are, or why the fuck you’re here, but this is none of your business,” she says.
“Actually, it’s absolutely my business,” I say. “You shouldn’t be here. When a man leaves you, the mature thing to do is give his key back, not use it to sneak into his house when he’s at work.” I take another lick of peanut butter.
“He won’t give a shit about you, you know,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’re just his attempt to get over me. But all he really cares about is his practice. Take my advice, honey. Get away while you can. Don’t let him waste two years of your life.”
That really pisses me off. “Maybe you just weren’t the right woman for him.”
“And you think you are?” she asks. “Hey, if you’re that naive, there’s nothing I can do about it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Or you could have turned off the ice-cold bitch act for five minutes and at least tried to be what he needed,” I say. “I don’t need warnings from the spurned ex-girlfriend. I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.”
She shoots me an absolutely murderous glare. Man, she hates me, through and through. Normally that would bother me deeply, but in this case the feeling is more or less mutual.
“Fine,” she says, turning on her heel.
“Leave the key,” I say.
She glances over her shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“I said leave the key. There’s no reason for you to have it. And it will save Cody the trouble of having one made for me.”
Jennifer grinds her teeth together, twists the key off her key ring, and lets it drop to the floor at her feet. It lands on the hardwood with a clink, and her heels click as she stomps out the front door, slamming it shut behind her.
I smile and lick my spoon again. If enjoying that makes me a bad person, I’m content to call myself terrible.
12
Cody
For the first time in I can’t remember how long, I leave work early. My last appointment is at four-thirty, and instead of staying for another two or three hours, I head home. Of course, it isn’t some newfound sense of life balance that sends me out the front door just after five. It’s my mother.
She called me this morning to remind me I agreed to bring Clover to her place for dinner. I did, didn’t I? It’s Thursday. I suppose it’s a good thing she called, because it totally slipped my mind.
I don’t think bringing Clover to dinner with my parents is a particularly good idea. My mom can be too talkative—and occasionally inappropriate. Unfortunately, Mom started the conversation by asking me whether Clover is feeling well enough to be out and about. Without thinking, I told her she is. So I can’t use her injury as an excuse to put this dinner off.
As I drive home, I tell myself it will be fine. My mom is a little meddlesome, and she might ask too many personal questions, but I can handle that. Still, it feels strange to be bringing Clover to dinner with my family. She and I aren’t … well, we aren’t anything. I’ve known her for less than a week. Despite the fact that my cock keeps trying to betray me every time I’m near her, nothing is happening between us. I can call her a friend, and be happy to do so, but she’s also spent the week living in my house. Sleeping in my bed. It’s so strange. Does my mom want me to bring her over because she thinks there’s something going on between us? Or is she just trying to be nice to a girl who’s new in town? I honestly have no idea.
I’m not sure what Clover will think about this either. She’s so friendly with other people, I don’t think she’ll mind. At least I hope not. I don’t want to spook her with this come meet my family thing.
I get home and find Clover pulling pans out of the cupboards. It’s so odd how natural it feels to see her when I get home from work. Like she belongs here.
“Hi!” she says, giving me that glorious smile. “You’re home so early. I’m not ready for you yet.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I say. “I should have called you, but I kind of wanted to ask you this in person.”
She sets the pan down and looks at me, her blue eyes bright, her eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
“My mom invited us to dinner at her place,” I say. “Tonight.”
“Oh,” Clover says. “That’s so nice of her.”
Does she sound disappointed?
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” I say. “She mentioned it when she was here last weekend, and I completely forgot. I actually wasn’t sure if she was serious. But she called me this morning to remind me. I think my brothers will be there, too, so it’s kind of the whole family.”
“And she wants me to come?” Clover asks. “Are you sure?”
“She’s doing it for you,” I say. “You know, because you’re new in town. It’s what my mom does—she feeds people. It’s her love language.”
“I guess it’s good I didn’t get started on dinner,” she says. She looks down at herself. She looks positively adorable in a pair of pink shorts and a white t-shirt. “Do I have time to change?”
“We should leave in about half an hour,” I say. “Is that enough time?”
“Yeah, I’m low-maintenance,” she says. She pulls a curl and lets it bounce back. “But I must look a mess. I need to go shower.”
“No, you look…” I pause. Delicious. Sexy. Adorable. Utterly fuckable. “Fine. You look fine.”
She puts the pan back in the cupboard. “So, your ex stopped by today.”
I freeze. “What?”
“Yeah, I know, it was so weir
d,” she says. “I was sitting on the couch looking for an apartment when she unlocked the door and walked right in.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I say. A surge of adrenaline runs through me.
“Nope,” Clover says. “She was surprised to see me, that’s for sure. I may or may not have had a little fun with her.”
“What did you do?” I ask, morbid curiosity crowding out the spike of anger.
“Not much,” she says with a wicked grin. “I was in my underwear, though, so it definitely looked like I’m sleeping with you.”
Oh god, it’s hot as fuck hearing her say that. Focus, Cody. “What did she say to you?”
“That she was here to pick up her things—which she didn’t do, by the way, she just left. So of course she was lying. And she told me you didn’t care about me and I was just your attempt to get over her, and you’d never put me ahead of your job.”
“Wow, she went straight for the throat,” I say. It isn’t surprising. That was how she always felt—that my practice was more important than her.
“Well, I kind of deserved it,” Clover says. “She was so bitchy from the moment she walked in, I was bitchy back. I did make her leave the key, though.” She picks up a house key from the counter and holds it up. “I told her it would save you the trouble of making me one.”
I can’t help but laugh, despite how pissed I am. I wish I’d been here to see the look on Jennifer’s face when she found Clover in my house, in her underwear. I wonder if she was wearing one of my t-shirts. I’ve noticed she sleeps in them, which is oddly arousing—although pretty much everything about Clover is arousing.
She crouches down to put something else back in a cupboard and I watch her legs, her cute bare feet with their hot pink toenails. I want those legs wrapped around my waist.
Shit. I adjust my pants. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” I say. “I guess now you’re really wondering why I was with her.”
“The thought did cross my mind,” Clover says. “But hell, I’d be mortified if you met some of my exes. I’ve dated some real dickheads. It happens.”
I’m insanely curious to know what kind of men Clover dated, but I don’t ask. It’s the sort of thing that’s tempting to find out, but probably not the best road to go down.
Clover goes upstairs to change, and I hear the shower turn on. I sit down on the couch and run my hands over my face. I’m not going up there… but holy shit, I want to.
Maybe I’m an idiot for not acting on my feelings for her, but I don’t trust myself. I jumped in feet-first with Jennifer, and it was a colossal mistake. And Clover is so … different. She’s unlike any woman I’ve ever met. So free and full of optimism. The woman was this close to sleeping in her fucking car—with a concussion—and she was still smiling. But she also packed up and left to move to Jetty Beach on what sounded like a whim. And she said she moves around a lot, and everything she owns is out in her car.
I don’t know if she’s the kind of woman who sticks with something, and I’m not built for casual relationships. I never have been. If Clover isn’t a woman I can envision in my future, there isn’t any point in hooking up with her now, no matter how much she turns me on. I’d only be setting us both up for a lot of pain, and I don’t want to do that to either of us.
I grab my phone and stare at the screen. I should call Jennifer. In the past, I often ignored it when she did something shitty. But I’m tired of being that guy. I need to deal with this before she makes things worse. I bring up her number and hit send.
Jennifer answers, her voice cold. “Cody.”
“Hi, Jennifer,” I say. “I suppose you know I’m calling because I heard you were at my house today.”
“Yes.”
I decide to be nice, but direct. “So, what was up? Did you need something?”
She’s silent for a few seconds before answering. “I thought I left some things at your place.”
“You should have asked,” I said. “I knew you still had a key, but I’m surprised you felt like you could just come over when I’m not home.”
“Fuck, Cody, I just wanted my stuff,” she says. Her voice grates in my ear. “You made it pretty clear you didn’t want to have anything to do with me. What else was I supposed to do? Call you? It’s not like you would have taken my call.”
I roll my eyes. Of course this is my fault. “You didn’t even try to call. And you don’t have anything here, so we both know that’s bullshit.”
“Yeah, your new girlfriend told me,” she says.
I sigh. “She’s actually not my girlfriend.”
“Oh, just a casual fuck then? I hope it makes you feel better.”
“Son of a bitch, Jennifer, Clover is just a friend. She got a concussion and didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I let her stay with me.”
“Oh my god, she’s a patient? You brought a patient home to your house? Cody, that is so unprofessional. You can’t bring a patient home and start sleeping with her.”
“No…” I put my hand over my eyes. Why the fuck am I discussing this with her? “That’s not what’s going on. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t call you to discuss Clover. I wanted to know why you thought it was okay to come into my house when I’m not home, but I don’t know why I bothered. Of course you breaking into my house is somehow my fault, just like everything else. You left your key, but I’ll change the fucking locks anyway. I don’t have any of your stuff, so just back off.”
“Believe me, I’m done with you,” she says, and hangs up.
I toss my phone on the couch next to me. Of course she hung up. Always has to have the last word. She took zero responsibility for any of the problems in our relationship.
I can admit, I was a shitty boyfriend to her. But fuck, she’s aggravating. She has a way of making herself out to be the victim every time, and it makes my blood boil.
Clover appears at the bottom of the stairs, and all thoughts of Jennifer vanish in an instant. Her hair is damp, weighing down her curls, and she’s dressed in a short yellow sundress with spaghetti straps.
She comes closer and points to her hair. “I have to let it air dry, or it goes super-fro. Is this dress okay? I have no idea what to wear.”
I can’t stop staring at her.
“Um, is that a good look, or a bad look?” she asks. “I don’t know you well enough to know what that expression means.”
It means I want to rip that dress off of you and fuck you on this couch right now. I clear my throat. “Sorry. The dress is perfect. You look great.”
“Yeah?” she asks, giving me that sweet smile.
“Definitely,” I say. I grab my phone and stand up. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” She smooths down her dress and takes a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go have dinner with your family.”
“I’m ready if you are,” I say. I hold out an arm and she puts her hand in the crook of my elbow.
I’m not at all sure that I am ready. But she’s just a friend who’s new in town. I’ll introduce her to my parents and my brothers. Maybe she and Nicole can be friends. That’s all this is. Completely platonic.
Isn’t it?
13
Clover
Cody’s family lives in a beautiful two-story house. I can tell it’s right on the beach; the sound of the waves is loud when we get out of the car. Strong wind blows my hair around my face—I’m going to look like a disaster by the time we get inside—and the salty smell of the sea is heavy in the air.
I’m beside myself with nervousness. Meeting new people is one of my favorite things, so I don’t know why I’m so worried, why I’m terrified of them not liking me. People always like me. I’m friendly and good at conversation. I’m awful at plenty of other things, but meeting people and making great coffee are things I know I have a lock on.
Yet meeting Cody’s family has my stomach twisted in knots. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. He isn’t my boyfriend, so this isn’t going to meet the boyfriend’s fa
mily. If it was, my nerves might be justified—but this is just dinner with new friends. I should be thrilled.
I feel all trembly as Cody leads me inside. The front room is so quaint, with a slightly shabby couch and a big grandfather clock. We pass a set of stairs and come into a wide-open great room at the back of the house. There’s a spacious kitchen with a butcher block island, some comfy-looking seating, and a big dining table.
I recognize Cody’s mother. Her graying hair is pulled back and she’s wearing a long green dress. Her face breaks out in a smile when she sees me, settling a little of my nerves.
“Hi, Mrs. Jacobsen,” I say.
“Clover,” she says. “Please, call me Maureen. You look so much better than you did last I saw you. Cody must be taking good care of you.”
My hand brushes my forehead. The lump is almost gone, although it’s still bruised. “He certainly is.”
Her eyes flick to Cody. “Hi, baby boy.”
“Hi, Mom,” he says. He steps in to kiss her on the cheek. “Is everyone upstairs?”
“Yes, of course they are,” she says. “It’s such a beautiful day. Your dad is grilling something, even though I told him I’d make lasagna.”
“You know Dad and his grill,” Cody says.
“Oh, goodness,” Maureen says, putting a hand to her chin. “I forgot to ask if there’s anything you don’t eat, Clover. Are you allergic to anything?”
“No, nothing like that,” I say.
“She’s vegan, Mom,” Cody says. He winks at me.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Maureen says. She opens the fridge. “Why didn’t you tell me? What do vegans eat? Do you eat cheese, Clover?”
I smack Cody on the arm. “He’s teasing you, I’m not vegan. I mean, I was raised that way, but I eat everything now.”
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