A New Enemy (Enemies 1) - Page 8
But supposedly all of that paled in comparison to Blake.
I took a sip of my drink and kicked up my feet on the edge of the railing.
The moon cast a pale glow on the sky from its hiding spot behind a cloud.
I sighed and leaned back properly, and Mischa rested his head on my thigh.
Closing my eyes, I let the day fade away until only the best remained. The flavors of the rum and cigar mixing—the smokiness, the molasses, the chocolate, the nutmeg, the richness of caramel and oak. My fingers went into the soft fur around Mischa’s neck. The waves rolled in, the air was both muggy and crisp, and the forest was alive behind the house.
As always, it felt good to have Teddy here. Partly for selfish reasons; I loved spending time with the kid. Partly to give Soph and Dylan a break. They worked so damn hard to prepare for the little one’s arrival next month, and they wanted to be able to enjoy a couple weeks’ peace with their new family member, while making sure nothing else failed. Bills had to be paid, Teddy’s care was far from free, and soon they would have to find a better place to live. Their little two-bedroom was already cramped.
I hummed and rubbed Mischa’s ears the way he liked.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and it ruined the moment. It also reminded me that I was way overdressed. Out here, I preferred to sit stark naked. A pair of sweats if it got chilly worked too.
“Who do you think it is, buddy? Soph?” It better not be. She should be asleep.
I squinted at the screen and dimmed the brightness.
It’s been a while since we talked, son! Maybe you and Marlene can visit soon? It’s really lovely here. Mom sends her love.
Oh, Dad.
I’d respond in the morning. And no, I wouldn’t be able to visit. They hadn’t merely retired and moved to Florida. They’d migrated to fucking Argentina.
I texted my sister instead.
Dad texted. Asked if we wanted to visit them soon. :-)
Her response was pretty instant.
God. LOL. I don’t even know where to begin.
That was why I was postponing answering.
I dropped the phone next to me and scooted down in my seat until my head landed on the backrest. Mischa let out a sound of contentment as I scratched his ears, and I wondered if someone could come scratch me too.
It’d been way too long.
It was one thing to head down to the Valley and find a quick lay to go home with, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d brought someone here. Maybe I preferred the single life because Brian still liked to crawl back from time to time. And when I didn’t show any interest, he got infuriated and took it out on me.
No. Fuck it. I didn’t need a relationship. But some intimacy would’ve been nice.
ETA 10 minutes. Teddy is cranky AF.
He always was after speech therapy, but I thought he’d be happy anyway. His uncle Blake was here and all.
That motherfucker better not outshine me as Teddy’s favorite. I was ready to get territorial.
After putting down my phone again, I returned my grandmother’s cookbook to the bookcase in the living room. Built-in shelves took up an entire wall, with every slot filled. Approximately fifty of the—I didn’t know how many, to be honest… Either way, most of the books used to belong to Nana. Art history, modern art, memoirs, and cuisine. Since she’d died a few years ago, I’d actually become a decent cook, thanks to her books on various food cultures.
My own selection of books consisted of fifty percent thrillers, twenty-five percent on pet-keeping, twenty-four percent technology, and one percent books that made me cry—which Marlene had given me to be an asshole.
The little shit would lie and tell me it was suspense or something. Suspense, my sweet ass. It was usually chick lit where somebody died.
“Echo! Don’t you dare.” I cocked a brow at him and reentered the kitchen. The boy was eyeing the steaks on the counter with a little too much interest. “You can go wait by the door. It looks like we have a frown to turn upside down when Teddy gets here.”
Echo cocked his head, reacting to the mention of Teddy.
“Yeah, Teddy’s coming back.” I patted his head, then opened the fridge. There wasn’t much left for me to do. The grill was prepared, Lily had recently eaten, the meat had been soaking in marinade all day, I’d showered after a morning on the beach and a two-hour work shift driving kids to summer break activities. Getting dressed held very little appeal in this weather. I lived on the beach, for chrissakes. If that didn’t give me the right to live and breathe boardshorts, then what the fuck was the point of having a beach house? So I grabbed a beer instead.
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