Guys like Mitch didn’t just fall in your lap and stay there. Disillusionment and disappointment filled his thoughts. Cody understood how guys like Mitch worked. They liked the chase, but didn’t like to stick.
How would this affect his future? US Marshals worked with the Texas Rangers on occasion. Would Mitch be strolling in and out of the picture for the rest of his life? Shit. He probably would. The way Cody had so easily agreed to hold the spot… The way he’d gone the opposite direction in the airport after that last mind-blowing kiss… Thank god he hadn’t stayed around for the week.
Trying to gain some anger to help remove the pain slicing through his heart, Cody slid the pictures away, shut down the screen, and put the phone on the charger.
He grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and pulled a steak from the freezer, dropping it in the microwave on auto defrost before he headed to the patio to light the grill. He twisted the cap off the beer bottle and took a long swig. Steak and beer, the perfect you’re-such-a-freaking-fool meal. He supposed women would turn to ice cream and chocolate right about now. He did have a brand new container of Blue Bell chocolate ice cream in the freezer. He’d probably open that up when he was done and catch up on a few episodes of The Walking Dead.
Flipping the knobs to the grill, he looked out over his balcony. He lived in a ninth-floor apartment. Not too high up, but still a perfect view of the parking lot and garage below. If he cocked his head and bent far to the right, he could see Sixth Street. He had a great view of the Austin skyline, one of the things that had drawn him to this apartment. Well, that and the bar downstairs.
He could definitely hear activity going on in the streets below. Maybe he should venture down there tonight. The weather was absolutely perfect for a night out. The smells and sounds of the city were carried on the light breeze. The town was just coming to life at this hour. He could get out, have a drink, and push this sour feeling away before morning.
He decided against that and went back to the microwave as it dinged. He passed his radio, flipped the button on, and Lady Antebellum’s “Just A Kiss” filled the space.
“Just perfect,” Cody sighed out loud. Why did everything have to remind him of Mitch? It wasn’t until he had the steak on a plate, perfectly seasoned and ready to grill, that he heard the shrill ring of his cell. His heart slammed in his chest. It was most likely one of his brothers or sisters, but he took off running, struggling to switch everything into one hand in order to grab the phone. He’d got there as the phone went to voice mail.
“Dammit!” The beer bottle he braced up against his chest with his forearm slipped forward, spilling on to the plate as he pushed the button to see who’d called. A text came through with a whistle. One of those exaggerated construction worker catcall kind of whistles that had him narrowing his brow. That was new. He picked up his phone and opened the text. It was Mitch.
“Call me when you get this. It doesn’t matter the time.” Plain, simple, and to the point. Those few words lifted his spirits like nothing else ever had before.
There was no hesitation; he immediately dialed Mitch while placing the beer bottle on the nightstand.
“I just tried to call you,” Mitch answered. No hello, nothing like that.
“I was trying to get to the phone,” Cody said, rounding the corner back into the living room to turn off the radio.
“Are you out?” Mitch asked, he sounded a little defensive.
“No, I just turned on the radio in my apartment. I’m cooking a steak,” Cody replied, coming to stand in the middle of the living room.
“It sucked coming back to the hotel and you not being here. Sucks even more now. My partner’s bunking in with me tonight. The place’s packed, something’s going on in town, and his room isn’t ready until tomorrow,” Mitch said, and there was a definite whine in his husky voice.
“Well, see, it’s better that I left then,” Cody said, finally moving forward when he remembered the steak he held. He took the phone outside with him as he lifted the grill lid and dropped the steak on the grate.
“No, I don’t think so at all,” Mitch answered.
“Did you put the whistle on my phone?” Cody asked, walking back into his room to grab the beer off the nightstand and heading back out to the balcony where he had a couple of lawn chairs set up. He’d kept his tone light and easygoing in order to gauge Mitch’s. Did players call like this when they were blowing people off?
“Yeah,” Mitch laughed. “You liked that, eh?”
“Yeah, it surprised me. I looked around the room wondering what the hell?” Cody sat back in the lounge chair and looked out over the city. That intense happiness he had in Washington slowly crept back in.
“I wanted you to know that’s what I think about you,” Mitch said.
Okay, well, that sure didn’t sound like a guy who was trying to get rid of him. Cody ran a hand over his face and through his hair. When he was talking to Mitch, it was like the universe aligned itself in proper position.
“You get weird when I say things like that.” Mitch’s voice sounded thoughtful.
“Not weird, just quiet. Where’s your partner now?” He had to change subject. He got up from his lounge chair and made his way over to check his steak, trying to get out from under all this emotion coursing through him.
“In the bedroom,” Mitch answered, his voice dropped lower. “I can’t…you know. He can hear me.”
“Does he know I was there?” Cody asked.
“Yeah, he figured it out pretty quick. I was happy, which is apparently uncommon for me. Who knew?” Mitch said. Cody laughed at that. “I was in a meeting when you texted earlier. Watching Connors and Kreed face off was pretty funny.”