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Capturing Peace

Page 24

   


“Um,” I began, and licked my lips. “Well . . .”
I looked toward the house again as I tried to come up with an excuse. I have work tomorrow. True. I have to do laundry. Not true. I have to clean. Unfortunately true, but I won’t get to it tonight regardless. I have to watch my plant grow. I don’t have any plants. I need more time to sit here playing with my hair while I think of a really good reason not to go! I straightened in my seat and stared at my steering wheel as I thought. Just last week I hadn’t been ready for the three of us to hang out, but I also hadn’t known how serious Coen was about this relationship—­and he was right: Parker already adored him.
With school starting in less than a week, the only time I’d be alone without Parker would be the Fridays my work was closed . . . I knew this needed to happen soon, or eventually I would start thinking of reasons for us not to be together because of the time apart.
“We can wai—­”
“What’d you have in mind?”
There was a heavy silence before Coen added softly, “Don’t do this if you’re not ready.”
“You already know him, Coen, I’m just being dumb.”
“No, you’re not. You’re protecting your son.”
I smiled and thought again about Coen getting Parker to eat. My dad couldn’t even do that. “I’m unnecessarily protecting him from someone he already knows and likes, and someone I’m dating and kinda, maybe, sorta like too.”
“Kinda, maybe, sorta,” he said, his voice monotone.
“Yeah,” I teased. “So what did you want to do tonight?”
“We can do easy. We can just grab dinner. Or we can—­”
“Easy sounds good.”
“All right, easy it is. Can I pick you both up in an hour?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek and shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Can we meet you wherever you want to eat? Unless you want me to pick you up? Otherwise I have to move the booster seat to your car and it’ll just be weird.”
“Booster seat?”
“Yep . . . problems you’ll come across dating a mom.”
“I don’t ever remember being in one of those.”
I laughed and stepped out of my car. “I can’t remember it either, but it’s the law now.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, Steele, seriously.”
He paused before saying, “Don’t call me that. It’s weird.”
“Don’t call me Duchess.”
Coen drew out a groan. “I’m not sure if I can commit to that.”
“Well then, that’s your problem, not mine. I have to get Parker, text me where you want us to meet you.”
“You don’t play fair, Duchess.”
“Neither do you, Steele. See you soon.” I grinned and tapped END before opening the door and almost running into my brother. “Hey! I thought you were moving into your apartment with Erica.”
He pulled me into a hug and moved me away from the door so he could shut it. “I am, we’ve been moving all day. I just ran back here to get the last truckfull. Erica’s been unpacking all day, so it actually looks decent. You wanna come by tonight and see it? I’ll order pizza.”
“I can’t. Parker and I have something going on tonight.”
“Like . . . ?”
“Um . . .”
“Well, shit, Ray! You’re playing with your hair, so now you’re freaking me the f**k out. Tell me what it is.”
“Keegan!” I hissed, and smacked his arm as I looked around for my son. “Do you have to cuss in front of Parker?”
He cringed for a split second before relaxing. “No, we’re good. He’s out back with Mom. Now, tell me what you’re doing tonight.”
Dropping my hair, I straightened my back and tried to look directly into my brother’s eyes. It didn’t work. He’s eight inches taller than me. “Coen’s taking us to dinner.”
“Coen’s taking you and Parker to dinner?”
“Yes, he is, and why do you look like that? I don’t understand you. Why would you try to set me up with your best friend if you would ever have this worried look on your face! I know you told me you didn’t think we’d actually date, but come on, Keegan. Tell me why you’re acting like this! Is there something I should know? Something I should be worried about?”
“No,” he huffed and rolled his eyes. “No. Steele’s one of the best guys I know.”
I shrugged and put my hands up to the sides of my head before dropping them. “Then what? I don’t understand!”
Keegan looked past me for a while before clearing his throat and asking, “Does he sleep?”
“What?”
“When he’s, uh, with you. Does he sleep?” he gritted out, and then mumbled to himself, “I’ll kill the bastard for touching you.”
“What? Keegan! No, we haven’t done anything! He’s kissed me, that’s all. But even if we had, I wouldn’t tell you about it.”
Keegan sighed in relief and I crossed my arms over my chest.
“No killing Coen. And don’t punch him either.”
“I’m not promising the last one. No f**king way.”
“Keegan—­”
“Ray!”
“Whatever!” I groaned, and ran a hand through my hair agitatedly. “Tell me why you wanted to know if he slept.”