Easy Little Lick (Copperline #3)

by Sibylla Matilde

  “Mom—” I began.

  “Alice—” my dad said, nudging her towards the door.

  “Okay,” she smiled sheepishly. “Well, it was nice meeting you and your son, Ilsa.”

  “You too,” Ilsa replied.

  After they walked away, she glanced up at me. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “I just panicked. That’s your mom, and she wants the best for you.”

  “And?”

  “That’s not me, Cody.”

  I shook my head emphatically. “Don’t say that.”

  “She was so shocked to see you with Max,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t be—”

  “She was equally shocked just to see me with a girl, Ils,” I interrupted. “I've never introduced someone to my parents. I've never found someone I wanted to… not before you.”

  “Cody—”

  “I wanted you to meet them,” I tried to explain, “I just didn’t really plan to do it in the middle of the grocery store.” My fingers tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “I would have also liked to have given them—and you—a little heads up.”

  “It was a little awkward,” she said with a wry twist to her lips.

  “My parents will love you, Ils,” I murmured, cupping her cheek in my palm and holding her gaze when she tried to look down. “They’ll love you because I love you. They’ll see how much you mean to me, and that’s all they need.”

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Nanana,” Max said.

  “Better go buy this kid his bananas,” I smiled.

  That night, I just wanted to hold her.

  Not that I didn’t want to do more, because I always wanted to do more. But the urge to just shelter her in my arms—to give her that safe sensation she’d told me about—that’s what I really wanted.

  We had dinner and watched a movie, some kid flick about a little garbage compacting robot. We watched it for Max and then kept watching when he fell asleep two minutes in.

  I got up, put Max in the bedroom, and came out to wrap her in my arms. Today had shaken her. It reminded me that she still had some things to overcome, even though life had gone pretty smooth for the past week.

  That was the way of the world, though. You could sail along, and then something could come up and fuck things all to hell.

  “Ils,” I murmured into her hair.

  “Yeah,” she replied.

  “You’re safe with me… always.”

  I heard the faintest catch in her breath, and her arms tightened around my waist.

  “Cody?”

  “Yeah, Ils?”

  “I really do like having you here,” she whispered. “No matter what, I want you to know that.”

  That sounded slightly ominous, but I tried to keep positive. I searched for the feeling behind her words and held them close to my chest.

  “I like being here.” I said softly, nuzzling my face against the top of her head. “I hope I can be here with you for a long time.”

  I felt her press a gentle kiss against my chest. “Me too.”

  “But with a real bed.”

  She lifted her head and there was the slightest bit of a smile touching her lips. “The hide-a-bed isn’t that comfortable, is it? I didn’t realize it before. Until you started staying here, I slept in the bedroom with Max.”

  “You know, I have a big bed.”

  She glanced up at me warily. “And?”

  “And, say we lived in a place with more bedrooms—”

  “We?”

  “Max could have one, and… well, we could have one.”

  “We?” she repeated, her voice sounding a little strained.

  “Yeah,” I cautiously smiled, “we.”

  “Cody… you’re not asking me to move in with you, are you?”

  “Well, probably not in with me into the Mofo house,” I said, and winced a little at the relief in her sigh. “It’s probably not the best environment for Max.”

  “Right,” she breathed.

  “But maybe you and I could get a place together. A little house with a yard that Max could play in.” Her shoulders tensed and her breath caught.

  “Cody—”

  “Just think about it,” I said.

  “This is kind of sudden.”

  “Ilsa, to be completely honest, I think I knew it was you months ago on the day I met you. I felt like I got hit with a fuckin’ lightning bolt, and I instantly wanted you and only you.”

  “But we’ve never even really said we were dating. Like, we haven’t put a label on it or anything. You hardly know anything about me.”

  “I’m sure, Ils.”

  And I was. I could show her, be there for her. I could spend my life with her.

  She just needed to know that, too.

  I started getting a little panicky when six o’clock rolled around and she hadn’t shown up.

  Ilsa wasn’t usually late. I started freaking out a bit, wondering if I’d pushed too hard last night with the talk of moving in together. I replayed the awkward conversation with my parents, seeing her body tense with panic at the realization of who they were.

  I called her cell, but it went straight to voicemail. She didn’t have it turned on.

  Part of me wondered if she wasn’t coming in at all. I kept seeing that haunted look in her eyes after my parents walked away, and it began to eat away at my gut.

  She wouldn’t just take off, would she?

  I even went to Doug and asked about her. He gave me a suspicious frown, but said she’d called in to say she was running late. As I started to turn away, he hollered after me.

  “You’re not fucking her, are you?”

  I ignored him.

  And I waited.

  I almost crumpled to the floor in relief when she walked through the backdoor just before nine and scurried down the hall to the office. What had started as a nagging fear damn near had me ready to call out a search party to find her.

  We’d just started a set, so I couldn’t talk to her yet. I couldn’t take her pulse to see where her head was at.

  But she was here.

  Thank fuck.

  After the fifth song, I dropped my drumsticks and motioned to Denny that I needed a break. Confused, he nodded back to me, and told the crowd we’d be back in fifteen.

  I made a beeline for Ilsa where she stood taking a drink order on the far wall.

  “Cody, phone call,” Doug shouted to me as I headed past the bar.

  Fuck. I had no idea who the fuck would be calling me here, but because it was Doug who told me, I figured I ought to take it, especially since my question earlier had evidently aroused some suspicion. I headed his way to stand at the end of the bar, and took the phone from him.

  “This is Cody,” I said into the receiver.

  “Are you enjoying her?” a man’s voice asked.

  What the fuck?

  “Who?”

  “Did she even tell you her real name? Because it sure as hell isn’t Ilsa.”

  My heart stopped beating and plummeted.

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Who are—?”

  “My. Fucking. Wife,” the harsh voice viciously spat. “The woman you've been sleeping with. That’s what I’m talking about.”

  It took a moment to sink in just what he said.

  Wife? His wife?

  Ilsa was his wife?

  Fuck, Ilsa was married? I felt like I couldn’t breathe. A sudden wave of nausea and uncertainty seized my gut. His words had taken the wind right out of me. All those weird little nuances of her personality, all those times she shied away from anything permanent.

  “You’re lucky that I don’t cut your balls off,” he sneered. “Sleeping with another man’s wife is a dangerous game to play.”

  “Jesus,” I breathed in shock, barely listening as I reeled from the fact that Ilsa was married.

  “Do me a favor,” the guy said. “Tell her that her husband called.”

&nbs
p; And then all I heard was a dial tone as he disconnected.

  Fuck.

  Fucking fuck.

  Jesus Christ.

  I dropped the phone and just stood there for a minute, replaying the conversation in my head. There had to be some mistake. He had to be talking about someone else, or to think I was someone else. Justin… that was it. Justin had fucked someone’s wife and he just had us confused. My brain raced for some other explanation.

  But he had called her Ilsa.

  Speak of the devil, about that time, Ilsa walked back up to the bar with her tray and unloaded a few empties.

  “Doug, I need a Coors Light and a Jack and Coke,” she said to her boss.

  When he turned his back, she glanced over at me. Her brows immediately knit with concern.

  “Cody, are you—?”

  I grabbed her arm and started towards the exit. Doug shouted out her name, but I wouldn’t release her. I pulled her along behind me, right out the back door, and spun her around to look her in the eye. Tipping her face up to the dim lighting behind the bar, I asked her.

  “What’s your real name?”

  Instantly upon hearing the question, she went on guard.

  “It’s not Ilsa, is it?”

  She shook her head slowly. Warily. “How did you know?” she breathed.

  “Your fucking husband just told me.”

  The look on her face told me that fucker hadn’t lied. I watched as her face went completely pale. She lifted a shaking hand up to her stomach and suddenly gasped for breath, like she’d been kicked in the gut.

  She was keeping secrets.

  Really big motherfucking secrets.

  She took a couple harsh, sketchy breaths, but her words were barely audible in her shock.

  “He’s here?”

  “He just fucking called me.”

  “He called you? How did he—”

  “He called the bar and asked for me,” I shot back. “Fuck.” I shook my head.

  It was almost like she wasn’t even listening to me anymore. When she looked back up at me, even though I was unbelievably pissed as hell, it was like she was looking right through me. Her reaction to being caught didn’t make any sense. Like she went into some kind of weird, hollow shock. That pissed me off even more. This shit was tearing me apart and she was just acting… vacant.

  “Max…” she started, staggering towards the back door to head inside.

  I was so angry, so fucking hurt. The rage had me by the balls. The dreadful feeling in my chest began to filter throughout my body.

  “I didn’t believe it until now. I didn’t think you’d lie to me, but you did, didn’t you?” I growled, catching her by the arm as I pushed her up against the wall. “Didn’t you?!”

  That got her attention.

  In fact, she looked completely terrified of me all of a sudden. She whirled away and fell back, dropping to her knees and shielding her body. Sheer panic lit her eyes, like she thought I was going to hit her.

  She gave no excuses or explanations.

  Just shrank before me in pure terror.

  “Jesus, Ils,” I said, my fury began to give way to concern as I reached for her to help her stand up. Her reaction didn’t make any sense to me.

  “No!” Ilsa gasped as she lurched away from me. I got a hand on her arm and tried to pull her back, but her voice rose, bordering on hysteria. “I have to go!” she almost screamed and attempted to jerk free.

  “Tell me what the fuck is going on,” I demanded, trying to keep the confused frustration out of my voice.

  She sort of emotionally exploded, jerking back and slamming her body into me. Trying to work free. She clawed at my hand and slapped at my chest. In my own surprise at this reaction, I stepped back. I let go.

  She ran through the back door and down the hall towards the office. I followed, watching in angry confusion as she ripped her coat and purse from the hooks on the wall. With a frantic sob, she dug through her purse for her keys. Just as I was about to say her name, she turned to see me standing there blocking the door.

  “Ilsa, what the fuck is going on?”

  She seemed to be fighting off her panic, trying to appear calm, as she looked at me for a minute.

  “I have to go.”

  “You’re not going anywhere, not until you talk to me.”

  “I have to go,” she repeated.

  “Jesus, Ilsa, fucking talk to me!” I growled, blocking the door with my large frame as she tried to push past me.

  “Cody, I have to go!” she exclaimed. She looked away biting her lip, closing her eyes and shaking her head before glancing back up at me with tears in her eyes.

  I was completely blindsided. My senses were all off-kilter. She sounded so desperate, and for a second, I almost let her go. Yet, I had a feeling… if I let her walk away from me right then, I would never see her again.

  I took a few steps closer, and she backed up against the wall behind her.

  “Please, Cody,” she begged in a ragged breath. “I just have to go. I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not good enough. I can’t accept that.”

  “Let me go,” she whispered.

  “Let me help you.”

  “You can’t help me.” Tears streamed down her cheek, and I reached up to wipe them away with the pad of my thumb. My fingertips brushed against her ear, and she slammed her eyes shut, causing more tears to fall.

  “Let me help you,” I repeated. My hand feathered down from her cheek, over her neck and shoulder.

  “Please…” she lifted her hand to my chest, trying to push me back with a weak shove. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Then don’t fight me on it. I’ll drive you.” I ran my hand down her arm, slowly making its way to the tight grip she had on her keys. Exerting a little pressure with my thumb digging gently into her palm, I coaxed her hand open, slipping the keys from her grasp with my other hand. I interlaced my fingers with hers, gave a slight tug, and pulled her along behind me. Whatever was wrong, whatever she needed, I was going to be there for her. And then she was going to give me some fucking answers.

  She followed me out of the bar, slightly numb and dazed by some unknown threat.

  I saw Brannon and Sophie on my way out the back.

  “Dude,” I told him, “tell the guys we had an emergency. And tell Doug that Ilsa had to leave. We’ll explain later.”

  “Do you need anything?” he asked as both he and Sophie glanced over at Ilsa in concern.

  “Not right now,” I said over my shoulder as we left through the back door. We stepped out into the darkness. “Where are you parked?” I asked.

  “Over there,” she nodded off to the side of the lot. We neared her car and I unlocked the passenger door, motioning for her to get in. She hesitated for only a second before she did as I indicated, and I closed the door behind her. I rounded the front while she buckled her seatbelt. As I climbed in behind the wheel and fired up the engine, I looked down at her sitting beside me.

  “Where we going?”

  “Butte,” she whispered. “I have to go get Max.”

  “Where in Butte?”

  “Myrna’s… the babysitter. She lives on the edge of town.”

  I nodded, remembering the night I essentially stalked her before, the night I found out about Max. I still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but she was clearly terrified.

  So, not having a clue what I would be facing when we got there, I turned onto the highway for Butte.

  It was just getting dark, but the outside light was on when we pulled up, dimly illuminating the little porch on the square house.

  “I’ll go in and get him,” she murmured as she opened the passenger door. I clapped my hand over her thigh, holding her in place for a second.

  “I’m going with you,” I said.

  She hesitated, but gave a faint nod, and climbed out of the car.

  She quietly rapped on the door, waiting for a few moments before knockin
g just a little bit louder. Finally, we could hear someone moving on the other side and the door opened to reveal an older lady wrapped in her bathrobe looking out at us with confusion.

  “Ilsa?” the woman asked. “I wasn’t expecting you until morning. Are you okay?”

  “Something’s come up,” Ilsa explained. “I need to get Max.”

  The woman glanced up at me as though she was trying to see the answer to Ilsa’s strange behavior in my eyes. I was just as in the dark she was, though.

  “He’s sleeping but—”

  “That’s okay,” Ilsa interrupted, and the older lady led us back to the bedroom where Max lay snuggled in his blanket. Ilsa gathered up a few things, stuffing them into a bag that she hefted over her shoulder. I lifted Max and settled him against my chest.

  Quietly leaving the room and heading towards the front door, Ilsa reached into the pocket of the bar apron that she still wore. She pulled out a wad of bills and flipped through it, straightening and counting them before handing the whole stack over to Myrna. The woman frowned, evidently concerned by the desperation emanating from Ilsa, and she clasped her hand over Ilsa’s fingertips.

  “Do you need that?” she asked.

  “I know I owe you more, but this is all I have on me.”

  “That’s not what I asked, honey,” Myrna said.

  “I’m not sure when I will be back—”

  “Ilsa—”

  “—so please, just take this.”

  The older woman still didn’t move to take the money, so Ilsa finally sighed and set it on the table beside her. She reached forward to give the woman a quick hug, then turned towards me.

  “Let’s go, Cody.”

  Outside, Ilsa opened the back passenger door for me to put Max in his seat, then reached inside to buckle up the sleepy little guy. With a soft brush of her fingertips over his rounded cheek, she gently shut the door and slipped into the front seat while I walked around the car and climbed in behind the wheel.

  She was still fearful, but some of the initial panic had faded. Her breathing had slowed, and she wasn’t shaking quite like she had been before.

  “Do you want me to take you home?”

  “No,” she whispered quickly, shaking her head. “We need to go back to the bar so you can get your truck.”