Page 59 of The Lies We Told Ourselves

Cole’s arm came back, and he reached for my hand as he backed up, pushing us back toward the door without taking his eyes off the house.

“Cole?”

“I think we should wait in my truck,” he said slowly as we reached the door, and he went to back outside. “I don’t want to leave you alone while I check through the entire house.”

Because he thought whoever had broken into the cottage had come here to hurt me. Or had Booker said something to him on the phone?

“What did you see in my bedroom?” I asked, my feet planting on the ground before he could back me out of the doorway.

For some reason, the fear inside me was dissipating, and in its place was a whole other emotion rising to the surface.

I’d come here for a fresh start. All I had was what little I could pack into my car from my old life, the one I’d had before it all went to hell.

And now someone thought they got to take that away from me.

They thought they had a right to take away the feeling of safety I was only just getting back.

For god’s sake, they stole my goddamned pie!

“Everyone knows the first slice is the best,” I suddenly shouted, outrage flooding through me as I pushed past Cole and strode back into Booker’s kitchen. “Are you in here, you damn pie-thieving miscreant?”

I was about to charge through the house on a quest for justice against the pie-based crime when Cole’s hand tightly gripped the top of my arm.

“Are you out of your mind?” I didn’t miss the crooked smile on his face or the fact that he was barely holding back his laughter.

“They stole my pie!” I repeated in outrage.

“I got that. I was more worried about them stealing your life, though.”

“Yellow-bellied, pie-thieving piece of trash,” I muttered, trying to storm into the house again, forgetting that Cole’s grip had me locked in place.

I shot him the look I saved for people who abandoned their shopping carts in the parking lot, and he quickly raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, look. Let’s be honest. If I let you storm into the house to seek revenge for your pie, Booker is going to kick my ass. I am actually begging you right now to take pity on me and wait for him to…oh thank god.”

Cole physically sagged in relief as Booker’s truck tore down the driveway and came to a skidding stop on the gravel outside. It barely seemed to be stationary by the time he was leaping out and charging into the cottage. A few moments later, he came out and tore into the kitchen. Cole darted out of his way as Booker hauled me into his arms and gripped me tightly to his chest.

“What happened?” he asked Cole over my head.

“We were in the barn talking, and Reece went to do something at the house. I checked the mare and the foal’s heartbeat and was coming to find her when she suddenly came tearing out of the cottage, looking like she’d seen a ghost. There was no one inside when I checked, but I didn’t want to go too far into the house in case they’d come in here.”

“Val, with me,” Booker barked and then physically passed me to Cole, who looked like he’d just been passed a bomb. Cole uneasily held me at arm’s length as Booker took off and started tearing through the house.

“He does realize I’m standing here and capable of speaking for myself, right?”

“Right now, Booker is in full-on protection mode. He’s not going to be able to even think about anything else until he knowsno one is waiting in here for you.” Cole looked down at me with that boyish smile again and added, “Or your pie.”

“Stole my damn pie,” I muttered in outrage, not caring that Cole was actually making fun of me.

The nerve of some people.

“There’s no one here,” Booker announced as he strode back into the kitchen with Val at his side.

The dog clearly knew something was wrong because the fur down her spine was bristled and at full attention, and she seemed on full alert. Val probably loved pie, too.

Cole gave me a slight shove, and I was suddenly back in Booker’s arms.

“Am I allowed to speak now, or are we still in full caveman mode?” I snapped.

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