Fuel the Fire (31 page)

I feel like an asshole. “Connor and I are dealing with the attention as best we can.”

She squints at me now, confused and suspicious. “I thought you’d be more upset.”

“I
was
upset. Ten minutes ago. Now I’m trying to take care of business.” I snap my fingers at Lo, but he’s still reading page one.

Lily’s eyes flicker to his crotch, and she squirms a little.

He ends up grabbing a pillow and placing it on his lap. He flips the page, glaring at the legal jargon. As much as we grate on each other, I can admit that Lo isn’t dumb. He’s cautious with his businesses. He seeks help in aspects that he’s weak in which, according to my husband, makes a great leader.

I check their bedside clock. It’s almost eleven. “Why are you two just now having sex?” I ask. I’d think they would’ve started and finished hours ago.

“Because your demon baby kept our baby awake last night,” Lo retorts. “Which in turn meant we were too exhausted to have sex. And now
you’re
interrupting us. Like mother, like daughter.” He flashes a bitter smile.

I shouldn’t have asked. I cross my arms. “Sorry, Lily. Not sorry,
Loren
.” I’m about to wave him to continue reading when a white and furry
thing
bounds through the doorway and into the room. It pushes past me and bolts for the mattress.

“Goddammit,” Loren curses, trying to gently push the Siberian husky away from the bed. The dog nudges his bare legs, tail wagging, and then the animal jumps on the bed and lies next to Lily. I take a couple steps back. I do not fear dogs, but I prefer smaller pets. Ones that I can pick up. She’s only eight-months-old and she already weighs thirty-five pounds.

The husky nuzzles Lily’s arm until she responds. Then Lily scratches her thick white fur. My sister immediately smiles, the dog a professional at gaining this type of elated response from people.

She is the antithesis of Connor’s cat, and yet it’s made me miss Sadie even more. Now that a shedding, slobbering
dog
is roaming around our household, sacrificing our cat seems unnecessary.

Last week, Ryke bought the Siberian husky for Daisy’s twentieth birthday. Connor and Loren like to joke about how Ryke and Daisy are now parents too, their husky around the same age as our babies. But we’re all well aware of the underlying truth.

This is a certified service dog for Daisy’s PTSD and panic attacks. Frederick suggested one as part of a plan to help Daisy, and she talked to Ryke about it, expressing enough interest that he surprised her with one. I’d never seen my sister so happy.

“What’s the command we’re supposed to use?” Lily asks me while Lo tries to focus on the contract.

“Go see Daisy,” I say. As soon as the words leave my lips, the pure white husky springs off the bed, her bright blue eyes directed on the doorway.

“Oh my God! I’m
so
freaking sorry!” Daisy rushes into the room. “Coconut!” The dog circles Daisy’s feet. “She’s still trying to acclimate to the house.”

“Shit,” Lo swears, setting the papers back on the bed as he searches for his underwear. It’s somewhat interesting that he reacts differently between my intrusion and Daisy’s, actually feeling exposed, even with the pillow. What’s
not
okay is the contract he’s abandoned.

“Loren,” I snap.

“Give me a minute,” he says with edge, clearly flustered.

Daisy cringes and turns sideways to shield her eyes. “I’m
really
sorry, guys.” She sets a hand on her dog’s head who finally heels next to her. “Coconut, be chill.” That name is going to be shortened a million horrendous ways except for mine.

“Coco, don’t drag snow into the house again.” Then I shoo her off with my hand.

“Queen Rose, already giving the dog chores,” Lo quips. It wasn’t a
chore
. It was an order. You know what—if he has time to say things like that to me, then he has time to read a few pages and sign his name.

I’m about to say so when Ryke
runs
into the room, fast. He bumps my shoulder on his way to Daisy.

“Fuck,” he curses, slowing to a stop.

I wonder if his stitches… “You shouldn’t be running, Ryke,” I say.

He’s heard this phrase too many times since being home from the hospital that he just simply ignores it now. “You didn’t hurt me,” he says.

“Of course I didn’t, you ran into me.” That sounded so bitchy.

The concern in his face pumps guilt into my blood stream. “Did I hurt you?” he asks, eyes flitting across my body. He’s not his brother. It’s ten times easier saying mean things to Loren, and I forget to tone down my hostility for him.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, and then I turn to Loren. “Can you please hurry?”

He’s still trying to find his underwear by sliding his hand across the mattress, Lily nothing more than a lump under the blankets, hiding from Ryke.

This is a clusterfuck.

Loren lets out a frustrated noise, and I head to his dresser, opening the top drawer and tossing him the first pair of underwear I see.

He doesn’t even look slightly appreciative. Now clothed, he searches for Lily beneath the comforter instead of the contracts. He gets a pass. My sister ranks above
all
material things.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ryke asks, really confused.

Connor’s voice sounds beside the door frame. “You all interrupted Lo and Lily having sex, clearly.”

“I’m
so
sorry,” Daisy says for the fifteenth time, at least it seems like that many.

“Stop saying that,” Lo tells her.

Daisy is now kneeling next to Coco, the dog nuzzled against her body. The animal is trained for much more than just providing comfort. Hopefully she’ll help Daisy with her nightly troubles and panic.

“I thought the dog already earned her certificate,” Connor says. “Why is she running into rooms?”

“She still has to adjust to the house and the people in it,” Ryke explains. “Huskies like to explore. I didn’t buy a fucking lab because I thought Daisy would like this breed better.”

Daisy looks up at Ryke with the sincerest type of love in her eyes. He knows my sister well.

Ryke adds, “Two more weeks of training at the house and she’ll be used to everything.”

“You can’t train Nutcake here,” Loren says. “You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“Number one,” Ryke begins, “don’t confuse the fucking dog. We’ve been through this—it’s either Coconut or Nutty. Nothing else.”

I set my hands on my hips. “I put in a proposal for Coco, and I specifically remember gaining two votes.” I point at Daisy and my husband.

“Everyone could only vote once,” Daisy says with apologetic eyes. “They counted my vote with Lily’s for Coconut, and then Ryke and Loren went with Nutty.”

Did everyone fail second grand math? Hello? “I still have
two
votes. We are two people.” I gesture from my chest to Connor’s, who walks closer to me in the bedroom, his arm slipping around my waist.

“Your husband changed his vote,” Lo says with a dry smile.

Connor looks hardly scared by my withering glare. He should be scared. He sleeps with me.

“Tell me you sided with my sisters at least,” I say.

“If I told you that, it’d be a lie.”

My mouth falls and then I swat his arm off me.

He’s actually grinning. “This wasn’t a husband-wife, husband-wife, boyfriend-girlfriend kind of vote.” I know what he means. All the guys voted together, and I was the dissention among the girls. Fine.

“And number two,” Ryke continues to his brother, “I’ve been taking it easy for practically two months. I’m not a fucking invalid.”

He hasn’t been taking it easy. He runs every morning, and I’ve even caught him lifting weights in our basement gym when he’s not supposed to be. He’s bored and restless and reminds me far too much of my little sister.

His itch to climb can’t be scratched for another month or so, and it’s what really bothers him. Daisy told me that no other activity really seems to fill his need to rock climb.

Connor breaks the brief silence. “I think it’s about time we had a certified, potty-trained dog in this house.” Both Ryke and Loren’s shoulders slacken almost instantly, and then Ryke flips off Connor, a smile almost attached too.

“Leeaaafff.” The mumbled words come from underneath the comforter.

“Lil wants you all to leave. As do I,” Loren says.

“Not yet.” I snatch the contracts and set them back in Lo’s hands.

“Sorry,” Daisy says again, on her way out with Coco…nut. I internally cringe.

“Daisy.” Lo shakes his head at her apology that shouldn’t exist in his eyes. I actually love that he’s reinforcing this with her, as Ryke always does. She apologizes for almost everything, just gut-reaction from being raised by our controlling mother.

Daisy nods. “Sor—okay…” She ushers her husky out of the door, and Ryke follows close behind. 

I clear my throat.

“Give me a minute,” Loren says, trying to find his spot in the contract.

“I gave you
ten
. This means a lot to me, please.” I hate my own voice. I’m begging him now.

He scratches his neck. “I can’t just sign this without a lawyer.” He stands from the bed, about to retrieve his cell on the dresser. Loren has no faith in me since the last time I dealt with a contract.

“Let me read it,” Connor suggests, leaving my side to look over the papers in Lo’s grasp.

Loren pauses and then nods, passing them to his best friend. He trusts Connor, and maybe if I hadn’t royally screwed up once before, he would’ve trusted me too. A breath cages in my lungs while I wait for the verdict, hoping that we’ll solve this soon.

Connor reads ten times faster than Lo, flipping the pages while completely inexpressive. His eyes flit to me once, on the fifth page, but I can’t discern his thoughts, good or bad. To Lo, he explains, “This is specifically just to ensure the name of the brand as Calloway Couture Babies and not Hale Co. Babies with the main label as CCB and an HC inset.”

“Yeah, I got that much, thanks,” he says bitterly. Lily peeks beneath the blanket and mouths something to him. He mouths words back, and I tune them out, more focused on Connor’s poker face.

A minute later he hands the contract back to Loren. “It’s standard, no vague phrasing. Personally, I’d sign it without another set of eyes, but it’s up to you.”

Lo hesitates, thumbs through the pages
again.

I’m going to have to beg more. “Please,” I say. “We have minutes, maybe less.” My fashion career has fluctuated so much that every success has been paired with an irksome failure. I want to see my designs in stores with my name on them with my vision. I don’t want to lie and endorse something that I don’t believe in, that I barely had a hand in creating.

I need this win.

Loren returns to the bed, and my heart sinks. He digs in the blankets—I think to find Lily. But he avoids the lump that’s clearly his wife. A second later, he procures the missing pen.

He’s going to sign it.

He turns to the correct page. “Next time, send me a text message first or
knock
.” I barely process his words, watching him scrawl his name. It reminds me that Lo has
always
been on my side with this new venture in Hale Co. Whatever I want, he’s tried to give me.

So when he passes me the contract, I say, “Thank you.” My voice much softer than usual. It even surprises me. He rocks back in shock but ends up nodding.

I waste not a second more. I walk quickly out, down the hallway, and descend the stairs. I turn a sharp corner and enter the office. While I fax the contract, I call Theo. “It’s all faxed,” I say before he has a chance to speak.

“I see it coming in. I can’t talk long but these all look good to me.” I hear the rustle of papers. “I’ll see you on Monday…hopefully with a job.”

“Of course.” That cloud of guilt looms over me for even threatening his job. We hang up at the same time, but I don’t exhale a sigh of relief.

It takes me a couple seconds to detect the source of my unease. While a dog traipses around our house, the little orange tabby cat we’ve deserted roams the apartment of Connor’s therapist. I have no idea if he even cleans her litter regularly or if he forgets to feed her.

I can’t look at that dog without being reminded of what we did, and so I make a quick decision. I’m driving to Manhattan today.

And I’m taking Sadie back.

[ 29 ]

ROSE COBALT

I bounce Jane on my hip, and I knock on the office door, eye-level with a bronze nameplate:
Dr. Frederick Cothrell.
As soon as the door swings open, my glare already zeroes in on the target. With my heels on, Frederick is the same height as me. I notice his sideburns graying since the last I’ve seen him face-to-face, time clearly passing quickly. Exhaustion also pulls wrinkles by his eyes.

“Rose.” He’s not even a little surprised. Frederick widens the door, welcoming me inside.

“I need her,” I say without clarifying more. I follow him into the room, and I kick the door closed with my ankle, securing Jane on my waist.

Frederick slumps down on his leather chair, motioning for me to take a seat on the patient’s couch across from him.
No thank you.

“I’m not your patient. I’m only here for my cat.”

He smiles, seemingly genuine. At least more genuine than the ones Connor plasters on for people. “It’s Connor’s cat,” he reminds me.

I suck in a breath. Sadie may have been his cat, but through the years, she warmed to me.
I’m
the one who cares enough to want her home. For this reason, she’s just as much mine as she is his.

“It’s time for her to come home.” I hug Jane a bit tighter, resting a hand on my daughter’s head. Jane babbles and then audibly enough says “hi” to Frederick. She even waves. I’d set her down, but we won’t be here long.

Frederick waves back at Jane. “She can walk now?” The way he questions, I feel as though he already knows the answer is yes. I wonder if Connor described the event to Frederick, how Jane kept trying to push herself to her feet, only to fall. We were all in the living room for a Saturday night movie,
Harriet the Spy
(Daisy’s pick) paused on the television.