Page 98 of The Pretenders of Copper County
“I’m sorry, Derry,” Chris said. “I’d volunteer, but I’m better skilled at skating that… you know…”
“Involves a toe pick?” I asked innocently.
Chris’s eyes danced. “You could coach the team, Reed.”
I shook my head. There were many, many things I would do for my husband…
Former fake husband and protectee…
Boyfriend…
Love.
Coaching a bunch of sweaty teenagers was not one of them.
“I’m guessing they need the coach to be a teacher, baby, otherwise Watt would do it himself,” I pointed out, and Watt nodded. “And don’t forget I’m anentrepreneurnow.” I wiggled my eyebrows, then added dryly, “And I don’t want Oak to fire me immediately after making me a partner in Bartlett Security when I have a mortgage to pay.”
“True.” Chris grinned. “Not to mention a half stake in a new but promising charcuterie business.”
“Exactly. Once Cheese and Charm takes off, I’ll quit and let you support me,” I teased. “It’ll happen, you watch.”
This wasn’t just me blowing sunshine either… at least, not in terms of Chris’s company’s success. Back in September, Chris’s charcuterie storefront had opened in O’Leary, just a few doors down from Goode’s Diner. He not only offered event catering but also sold premium wines, cured meats, cheeses, and custom charcuterie boards he’d sourced from a local woodworker. We’d expected he’d be running the place himself for a while, to save on costs, but in the past month, he’d already had to hire two new employees just to keep up with demand.
I stopped in for lunch almost daily myself, when I wasn’t traveling to conduct risk assessments for potential clients once or twice a month. Though, admittedly, I’d have been there even if I hadn’t developed a fondness for double-cream brie because I was really inordinately and enduringly fond of a certain charcuteriespecialist.
I wasn’t the only one who was proud of Chris’s success either. Every time Danny emailed or called from… wherever he was… he didn’t hesitate to tell Chris how happy he was that Chris was carrying on the family name in the cheese world. And Dolores and Bob, who’d stopped in Copper County twice on their endless RV tour, assured us that Danny was well and happy.
As for Chris’s other family member… we didn’t hear from him. We’d heard that Nicky had recovered from his injuries, and I knew—because I made it my business to know—that he was still in jail, awaiting trial. As long as I had a single string to pull, there would be no bail for Nicolas Costello.
Ironically, I’d been offered a commendation and a promotion after Nicky’s capture and arrest, but I hadn’t hesitated to turn it down and hand in my notice, even though Janissey had begged me to stay. The moment I’d kissed Chris in the forest while Danny escaped had been my real resignation from the Division; giving Janissey my letter of resignation was just a formality.
I hadn’t regretted it for a single second. And with Chris’s warmth pressed against my side and the clean vanilla scent of him in my nose, I knew I never would.
I liked my life. A whole fuck of a lot.
Across the table, Watt peered into the gathering darkness at something beyond the caretaker cabin, and then he froze. “What the hell is that?”
The rest of us turned to look, and I saw something I hadn’t seen in the year I’d lived here.
A light in the big house on the hill—the Wrigleys’ old house—was on.
“Oh, yeah,” Chris said, turning back around to face him. “I meant to ask you about that. There was a moving truckparked by the house this morning. I stopped to say hello, but I didn’t see anyone around. Did Mrs. Wrigley’s heir finally decide to rent the place? Is the tenant going to be the new campground caretaker since we’re leaving?”
Watt shrugged dismissively. “Who the fuck knows? I’ve given up trying to predict what Jasper Wrigley will do.” Though he said the words easily enough, his face looked troubled, and his eyes kept returning to that light in the Wrigleys’ window.
Eventually, he stood and clapped his son on the shoulder. “Come on, Der. Let’s leave these guys to enjoy their last few nights here. You down forJohn Ruffianon Wednesday, Chris? The usual crew, at my place?”
“Oh. Sure.” Chris’s lips turned up in a friendly smile. “I’ll bring snacks.”
“Looking forward to it. Uh… and you can come, too, Reed. If you want.”
I rolled my eyes, and Watt shot me a wink. Then, the two men turned on their phone flashlights and made their way home across the field.
“What was that about?” I demanded.
“Hmm?” Chris fluttered his eyelashes. “What was…” He fluttered a hand in the air. “…whatabout?” He stood and stretched. “Gosh, it’s getting chilly, huh? We should go inside and?—”
I stood, too, only to pull him down on my lap in one of the Adirondack chairs by the fire. “I’ll keep you warm. And don’t try to wriggle out of this. You saidsurein the same tone of voice you saidsurewhen Gage offered to get you a glass of Boone’s Farm apple wine last time we were in the Hollow. You saidsurelike you weren’t sure at all. Tell me the truth, baby.” I paused to fix his glasses for him. “Are you falling out of love… with John Ruffian?”
