Page 76 of Resist

Mom nods. “Kept a shoebox of money under her bed. Hated banks, ATMs, online banking, anything intangible that she couldn’t put her hands on.”

“I get bored sometimes, that’s all.” I do not, in fact, get bored. But she’s going to keep prodding, and I don’t need her to know I joined this company because Donald Blackwell was my publishing hero, and I wanted to be like him. Then, after hearing the truth, I joined Blackwell Publishing to seek vengeance for her.

She shudders. “It had to be this one?”

My face heats. “I put feelers out to four different companies, this one was the best deal and the most interesting role.” I’m not lying. I did apply to another couple of places, but Blackwell’s business prowess in the industry was second to none. Looking back, if I’d known then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have applied to work with him, because I’d have likely killed the fucker. And done it with a smile on my face.

Mom nods again as we step out of my office. “I suppose it’s about time you put your degree to good use. Better late than never.” She mimics my grandmother with her light-hearted tone and a wink in my direction, but I’m feeling anything but jovial.

She’s been successfully thrown off the scent. At least for now. But at some point I’m going to have to tell her what I’ve done, and why. I can only hope I’m in a different time zone when she finds out. Because from the way her face paled at the wedding when she heard Corabelle’s last name... she’s not going to take it well. At all.

CHAPTER 28

Cora

I’m notsure what I did to deserve such amazing friends. Even Maddie drove in for the second weekend in a row to help me figure out where to fit Sterling into my very single life and very single—yet stuffed to the brim—apartment.

It’s Saturday morning and the squad has already mobilized. Sterling has spent a little time each day boxing up his stuff, so it’s a matter of moving it from one part of town to another.

Maddie’s one of the designated drivers because she doesn’t want to break a nail doing manual labor. That, and she has the biggest car. The plan is simple, multiple car trips while Phoenix, and Addison help me clear space and Talia and Mackenzie are in charge of drinks and snacks.

Slade and Paige were busy today and couldn’t help, but I think that’s code for they don’t want to be anywhere near each other. At some point, I’m going to get brave enough to ask someone for the four-one-one on those two, because there’s a story there, but as the newbie to the group, I just don’t know what it is.

At first Sterling wondered why I didn’t just hire a moving company, why I’m making my friends do manual labour instead. Phoenix announced it’s because we like to test the fortitude of our friendship once every few years, but the truth is, the last time I moved and used a company, they broke two plates and three cups from Mom’s dinner service and a couple of pieces of my pottery. So I swore never again. I’d do it all myself, even if it killed me, even if it isn’t for my things, even if it makes my friends hate me. I can’t let someone else play crash-and-bang roulette with Sterling’s important shit.

When they get back from Sterling’s, we’ll carry all the boxes upstairs to my apartment, and unpack as much as we can before leaving the rest, the private shit, for Sterling.

He says he hasn’t got a lot of stuff, but from what I’m hearing from the mobile unit, AKA our friends out in the field, he’s filled two cars and counting.

It’s a matter of minutes before the door is flung open, and Thor pushes his way into my living room carrying a cardboard box labeled “kitchen.”

Jagger comes next, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at the man I married last weekend. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweats that are riding low on his hips, a black shirt that looks like it was spray painted onto his body, and a strand of hair has fallen into his eyes.

My mouth goes dry as I follow a bead of sweat from his forehead as it slides down his temple and the side of his face.

Apparently my kink is a man hard at work. The way his biceps flex, the way his forearms tense as he shifts the weight in his hands, the streak of dirt across his forehead... My body’s on fire.

Beside me, Phoenix clears her throat and offers me a tall glass of iced water. “Want me to pour it straight over your head?”

“I’m good.”

She elbows me as I take a sip, causing freezing cold water to splash down my face and onto my shirt.

“Sure you’re good.” She wafts a Kleenex at me. “You’re gonna wanna mop up that drool.”

She’s not wrong. And when Sterling’s gaze flickers to mine, there’s a long, outstretched moment between us. His face morphs from that intense stare of his to a playful lopsided grin. “A little help here, wife?”

I fold my arms, shaking my head. “I have a perfect view of you and your hot friends lifting heavy shit around our apartment. I’m good.” And my spank bank is definitely getting a little top up.

He rolls his eyes before hauling the box into the bedroom. We agreed he’d move his bedroom things into the guest room when our friends leave later. Because even though they know the arrangement, some things are better left without your friends handprints all over them. My husband’s boxer briefs being one of them. I wouldn’t put it past Thor to wear them on his head and run around the apartment.

“Looks like you have boxes of your own still to unpack, Cora.” Jagger points over his shoulder at the office. “There’s a leaning tower of paperwork in there by the looks of things.”

Sterling’s feet stutter as he stumbles over the rug, righting the box in his arms so it doesn’t hit the deck.

“Nice catch.” Jagger pats his shoulder. “Do you need help unboxing your stuff too?” He turns his attention back to me.

“No, thanks. That’s all work paperwork. When Dad died, I cleared out his office to make sure I didn’t drop the ball on anything. And then swiftly left the boxes in my office to languish. I have to say though.” I point my water back at him. “When I feel ready to clear out my childhood home and get it ready for... selling...” The word sticks in my throat like a gianttablespoon of peanut butter without a drink. “I know who to call. You guys are great.”

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