Page 6 of Every Single Vow
“So what exactly is going on?” Maddox stands in the doorway of the kitchen, a slice of leftover pizza in hand.
Dakota plops down on my couch, leaning her head back with her eyes closed. “Just a good ole Sterling family reunion.”
Chapter four
Dakota
The sun shines through the navy curtain shielding the window as I lay staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t believe the fact I had asister.A sibling I’d always begged for, but mom had made it clear that she didn’t even want me, much less anyone else to take care of.Yeah, Bea Sterling was a regular June Cleaver.I was trying to dig deep. Trying to psychoanalyze why I haven’t shed a tear over her passing. It could be because she left me with that monster. Left me knowing his temper. Knowing how neglectful he was. But she didn’t even care, andas horrible as it sounds, a part of me doesn’t care that she’s not around anymore either.
I turn my head, my nose connecting with the soft cotton pillowcase where Cooper lays his head every night. It smells like a cowboy, leather, and spice. It smells like a man who probably did unthinkable things in these very sheets. That thought has my stomach rolling, so I push the covers off of me before climbing out of the bed. That’s one visual I can’t handle today.The thought of Cooper with another woman.Just because I know that I can’t have him, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t sting when someone else does.It really fucking stings, actually.
I take a few minutes to brush my teeth with my toothbrush he has set aside for me when I occasionally sleep over. He probably has a whole slew for his other overnight guests, but I push that intrusive thought away too. A quick splash of water on my face and my hair pulled back into a ponytail has me ready to face whatever shit show is waiting outside this bedroom door.
Stepping into the hallway, I already smell the scent of bacon as I tiptoe down the brand new hardwood floors. If there’s one thing about Cooper that is distinctly different from me, it’s that he’s a morning person. Infuriatingly chipper before the sun is up and insists on cooking a full fledged breakfast along with making the world's worst coffee imaginable.
“Morning,” he calls when I walk into the room.
“Morning,” I mumble back, reaching into the fridge for the orange juice.
My eyes take in the kitchen, before I peer around the living room.
No sign of Arizona.
“Any movement this morning?” I ask, flaring my eyes with a tilt of my head in the direction of the guest bedroom.
“She’s not a wild hog, Kota. She’s a child.” He flings a hand towel over his shoulder as he carries a full plate of crispy bacon over to the island.
I glare at him, before I sit down on a bar stool. “I’m aware.”
He then moves to the microwave, retracting a pile of Texas shaped waffles.
“Your strawberries are already cut up in that bowl.” He motions.
“You’re going to make a fine housewife one day, Coop.” I drag the bowl to me while he shoots me a wink.
A wink I’ve tried years to endure without my stomach fluttering, but here I sit, about to flutter off of this stool.
“You didn’t sleep, did you?” He makes his own plate before planting himself next to me.
He was already fully dressed. Starched jeans, a paisley pearl snap with the top two buttons undone.Alwaysthe top two, showing off the sterling silver chain that he always wore. His scuffed up boots were on his feet, but he hadn’t put on his hat. His hair was still slightly damp; the dirty blonde strands tossed around carelessly on his head as he shovels a bite of waffles into his mouth.
“Is that code for you look like shit?” I pop a strawberry into my mouth then nudge my shoulder with his. “Thank you for breakfast by the way.”
He smiles, my favorite dimple forming on his right cheek. “Always take care of you, Kota. You know this.”
And he did. Always.
“And you could never look like shit. I’ve seen you at your worst. Remember the county fair circa 2018?”
“God, don’t remind me.” I groan.
That night involved way too much vodka and corn dogs.Gross.
I sigh as I reach for a piece of bacon. “What do I do?”
“About what?” He stabs a few pieces of his waffle.
“About global warming.” I roll my eyes. “About the preteen currently sleeping in your guest room, Cooper.”
