Page 28 of Diamond In The Rough

I toss my pruners aside and pick up my trowel instead. “What holes?”

“Well… you say it’s common knowledge you’re not at the club on Wednesdays. But she came on a Wednesday. That hardly seems like an intentional meet-cute to me.”

“I doubt she was looking for my attention.” I move to an empty plot in my garden and dig the spade into the dirt to make room for the secondary aggie. “Like I said, Lix, you and Christabelle are fresh. Even ten years from now, when you’ve been wearing a wedding ring for a decade, brazen women are gonna try to step in and make a mess of what you have.”

“So you’re punishing Hale, not because you suspect she’s tricking you, but because you think I was her target? Do you think I’d fuck Christabelle over so easily?”

“No. I think Christabelle is endgame for you, and if you screw that up, she’ll end your life and toss you into the river before I even realize you’re in danger. But the outside world sees a pretty woman on your arm and assumes she’s just this month’s flavor.”

“You’re pitching that Tiia was coming for me? And that she continues her attack, despite having never spoken to me?”

“It’s as good a hypothesis as any.” I push moist soil aside and make a hole large enough for the root ball that’ll survive relocation, even if I’m rough. “Pretty slick, too. She makes all her interactions with our family look innocent, even causes a scene with me, coming nowhere near you. So when I tell you to be careful, you laugh in my face and say I’m wrong. It’s a whole new level of cunning.”

“Mm.” He drops into a crouch and pours his leftover coffee into the hole I just dug. “Maybe that feeling you have in your gut is right. Danger.”

“Which is what I said.”

“What if it’s not the kind you think? You’ve spent your whole life in fight mode, always on the front line to make sure the rest of us are okay. You wouldn’t even know the difference between love and war, because to you, they’re the same fuckin’ thing.”

“Love and war?” Turning from my clogged soil, I look to my brother. “Really?”

“Really. A woman piqued your interest. You’re mad because she’s pretty. She was in a vulnerable situation outside CeCe’s, and when you got her inside, she didn’t fall all over you in thanks, when you’re accustomed to a much more obvious, submissive type of female.”

“Yeah, well…” I force a toothy smirk, which makes my brother smile. “You bring enough of those types around the house.”

“I used to. But it was a catch-and-release system. Now, I have the fish I wanna keep. I know you like women, Micah, and I’m pretty fucking sure you take them to bed when you’re not busy following me around. But you never bring them to the house.” He sets his elbows on his knees and lets his empty coffee cup dangle from his finger. “I don’t remember the last time I even saw you with a woman. You haven’t talked about one you liked. But you’ve sure as shit never held a fuckin’ knife to a woman’s throat on a public street. As your older, much wiser brother, I’m wondering what it is about this chick that has you so worked up.”

“Like I said,” I grit out. “Intuition. You’re only adding to my argument that something is up with her.”

He claps my shoulder and uses me to push himself up straight again. “Might I suggest you fuck her before you kill her? Just to try out my theory. I’d hate to say I told you so once the deed is done and you’ve already screwed up.”

“You’re an ass.” I look to my soggy ground and inhale the rich scent of Colombian coffee. “Why the fuck did you pour that in here?”

“Figured the caffeine might help your plant grow.”

“Yeah, but the creamer isn’t gonna do shit.”

Chuckling, he spins on his heels and whistles. “Bastard! Come here.”

“You gotta call that dog something else, Lix. ‘Bastard’ isn’t it.”

“Well… his name started out as Bastion.” He reaches down and pats the fur of the oversized bitsa. “Ended up Bastard because he’s one of us now. And really, what are we if not bastards?”

“You’ve become sentimental. Getting a girlfriend has messed with you. Made you soft.”

“Nah.” He tosses his mug in an overhead lob that should have the damn thing smashing when it hits the ground. But it bounces off the spongy grass and becomes Bastard’s plaything.

The dog takes off, bounding to the white cup, and picks it up between his teeth, enamel audibly clanging off ceramic, even from thirty feet away.

“Christabelle has made me stronger. She’s made me invincible.” He sets his hands on his hips and beams, because the woman he speaks of strolls my garden in a cute summer dress and bare feet.

Her long, dark hair flitters in the gentle breeze, and her body, almost store-bought in how perfect it is, creates the ideal silhouette as the sun shines over her shoulder.

“I was so sure Arch was full of it,” Felix murmurs for my ears only. “When I found out he’d been stupid enough to get married, I thought it was all bullshit. But here I am, and I can’t help but believe that those who refuse love are the suckers. Idiots call it a weakness. But those of us lucky enough to have it, know it’s a strength.”

“Hey there, handsome.” Christabelle wanders closer and slips under her man’s arm when he reaches out for her. “And you too, Felix.”

I chuckle, a slow, relaxed smile stretching across my lips.

---