Page 35 of Wildfire
We chat for a couple of hours as the crowd begins to thin. I notice Zoe keeps glancing over at Caleb, and sure as hell, he is looking back.
"Listen, about Caleb. He's a player. This is probably his hunting grounds. Tourist season is about to start, and I'm sure he will just line them up."
She steals another look and then shrugs. "Just as well. I'm here to see you anyway."
"And your girl needs to get some sleep. I have to work in the morning, and I think I've had one too many beers."
We walk toward the exit, and I decide to use the toilet before we leave. "Hang on a minute, I need to pee."
She waits in the hallway for me, scrolling through her phone. When I return, Caleb is leaning in with his hand braced against the wall above her head.
I clear my throat to alert them to my presence. "Back off, greaseman. She's not your type."
They both look at me like a lion crawled out of my body and was ready to attack. And I probably am. I get like this when I've been drinking.
"And how do you know what my type is?"
"It's written all over your face."
"Fucking Cole." He shakes his head.
"No, not Cole. It's obvious just by looking at you."
"I think you have the wrong impression of me."
"I'm not willing to let you un-impress me with my best friend. Goodnight, Caleb."
He turns tail, but not before he grazes a finger under her chin. "Nice to meet you, Zoe. I'll see you around."
When he's out of earshot, I turn to face her. "What the hell was that about?"
"Nothing. Let's get you home. Seems like you need tucking in."
I throw my arm around Zoe, and we leave. "Sorry. I just don't want you getting screwed over again."
"I'm all grown up now, Renée. I can handle myself. Besides, he was a perfect gentleman."
"Oh, I know his gentleman act. He tried it on me."
"He hit on you?"
"No. Cole intervened. He just…forget it. And forget him."
Chapter Seventeen: Cole
I know it's none of my business, but when Zoe's car pulls into the driveway after midnight, I want to rush over there and see where she and Renée have been. It takes everything I have to keep my feet planted firmly on the floor in front of the stove where I've been… baking.
I don't know if it's my mom's influence finally taking sprout or that a beautiful woman is living ten yards away, but the baking thing has gotten out of control. I made scones for the two of them for the morning and decide to photograph and text them to Renée innocently.
I see an earlier text I missed from Renée about Wi-Fi. I know my brother Caleb has killer Wi-Fi in his apartment, but I'm not about to feed Zoe to that wolf. The library does a pretty good job with its technology, so I send that address and the photo of the scones over.
I get heart emojis in return and it makes me grin from ear to ear.
Fucking sucker.
I get another text a few minutes later, but this one is a selfie. It takes me a second to register that what I am looking at is real, but the picture is Renée on the deck blowing me a kiss.
Okay. Calm the fuck down. She's probably been drinking.
