Page 59

antioxidants and shit

Christian

My wife seems almost docile in the two weeks following the incident.

Despite her coming to terms with her dad’s betrayal, her mom’s diagnosis, and Fitz being sidelined and unable to shadow her on her hikes, Ayla is mellow and happy.

It’s as if her soul settled, and the contentment it brought was a balm to wounds that were deeper than I knew.

She hikes with Eleanor and Cian as often as she can, but they go out after the sun rises. That’s not to say she doesn’t leave the bed before me, but even knowing that the threat is less than before, she chooses safer options each time.

Cian plans to head home this weekend. I think Ayla would have them live with us forever if she could swing it.

That moment in Lakewood took a tight relationship and forged a bond that is unbreakable.

It’s not like Liam is on the outside looking in.

It’s just that her oldest brother’s life was in the balance and resting in her hands in a way that wouldn’t have included Liam if he hadn’t intentionally inserted himself.

Police have slowed their investigation into that day, mostly because the Laotian nationals who survived claimed immunity and the assumption prevails that they did so due to drug trafficking, murder, and attempted murder.

No one is looking too hard at ballistics since there’s no evidence of Liam’s involvement.

He left the hospital in an Uber to retrieve his bike, let Eleanor out, and returned with no one the wiser for it. That included us. I happened to ask since he took my vehicle.

The question before me now is how to best support Cian in his new venture. And how to do that without offending him.

Liam was easier. He’s a genius, even if his father refused to recognize it. It’s the reason I gave him start-up capital to get his business off the ground—his skill, the technology, and the void in the market he could quickly fill.

The potential clientele didn’t hurt either, though I lent him my contacts, not the other way around. He is loyal through and through and would’ve been good to me just because he adores his sister and would do anything for her.

He repaid everything within the first year. We never discuss my involvement. It was the right thing to do, and he was the right man to do it for.

Now if I can just do the same for Cian.

Eleanor comes bounding down the stairs, skids to a stop in front of me, and puts her butt on the floor, tail swishing from side to side.

She’s taken to doing this a couple times a day working treats from everyone in the house.

Cian would have a fit, but I give her one anyway.

Little does she know she won’t be the only pup around here for long, even if she is the one who stole my wife’s heart.

Or expanded it to make room for another.

“Hey, sweet thing. Do you need a treat?”

“She does not.” Cian’s voice booms from the landing.

“Of course she does,” I say to the dog and toss a biscuit her way.

Cian sighs and swipes a hand down his face. The bruising around his eye is yellow and green, but the swelling has reduced significantly. He looks less like Quasimodo than he did two weeks ago or even last week.

“We’re going to leave if you both keep that up.” He descends the stairs. “She’s going to get fat and spoiled.”

“You plan to leave anyway, and I’ve got news for you, she’s already spoiled. The fat thing can be rectified by a walk.”

“Do you think Ayla will be okay when I leave?”

“I think you’ll have your sister on your doorstep for both surgeries if you don’t stay here. You won’t shake her easily, but so long as you’re okay, she will be too.”

“I think they’re both going to suck.”

“You’re welcome here anytime and for as long as you need.”

Cian extends a hand to shake mine. “Thank you. And thanks for being good to my baby sister.”

“She’s my everything.” It’s a simple reply, but it says all I need it to. “I have a business proposition for you.”

Cian immediately shows his cautious nature, dropping his poker face into place, and hedging. “Oh?”

“I know you’re launching your own venture, so if it interferes with that or distracts from your plans, please let me know.

But I’m looking for a consultant on a handful of projects.

Your expertise dovetails perfectly for what we need.

Would you consider contracting with me until you launch?

I don’t mind after either, so long as it’s not a conflict of interest for either of us. ”

“Thank you, but I’m not interested in charity.”

“I assumed you would give me a contract or a rate commensurate with your expertise.”

He studies me. “I’ll consider it.”

“I appreciate it. Now about another matter…” I tell him what’s going on and ask for assistance in one other matter. His eyes light up, even though a little frown pulls the corners of his mouth. “Don’t worry—there’s only one original and that won’t change.”

“I’m going to take Javier and Ashlyn up to Beaver Brook next week. To the ridge. It’s time I get back to it.”

My wife sits across from me, not asking my permission. She lifts her wine glass and takes a hearty sip.

“Time to get back to it?”

“I have no idea what their apprenticeships were like before, but I owe them something aside from retail experience when they leave me. That must suck. Sign up to work with someone and lose the good bits and gain the sucky ones.”

Cian stiffens and one hand gathers in a fist on the table. His face is less expressive these days. Or it causes him pain to use it. “Care if I join?”

“Sure. And bring my girl.”

“My girl.”

“Our girl. Whatever.”

Cian’s eyes flash to mine, and I refocus on my dinner.

“I’m sending Ren along.” She didn’t ask permission. I won’t either.

“Great. Nothing like broody and scary to relax my apprentices. That word doesn’t sound right. Regardless… I’m thinking Tuesday, but I’ll make the call Monday night. That work for you, Ci?”

He nods. “As long as it’s before Thursday.” He points to the left side of his face.

“You haven’t been up there since we were up there.” I flick my fingers between the two of us. “Are you comfortable going since the accident was never resolved?”

“If you’re asking if I’m in the right headspace, the answer is yes. There are places I’ve gone that I’ve never been as this Ayla. And there are some that I have that I’ll revisit. I’m not tempting fate. I’m not depressed. And I’ll have at least five witnesses. Plus Ellie. I’m okay. Promise.”

“Okay, Princess. We have plans this weekend.” I turn to her brother. “You’re welcome here. You and Eleanor as long as you want. But I promised my wife iced tea on the porch in Aspen, and it’s time to make good on that promise.”

Cian’s face is comical. He turns to his sister. “You drink tea? I’ve never seen that.”

“I’m taking up the habit. I hear it’s good for you. Antioxidants and shit.”

Cian’s face contorts as if he’s trying to hide a smile. “Antioxidants and shit. Go for it.”

“We’ll be back before dinner on Sunday.” I offer to my brother-in-law. “Maybe we can stop by your place on our way back.”

“I’d love that.” He lifts his water glass, and I offer one in return.

Ayla

Iced tea is gross. Sweet tea isn’t bad, but it takes an awful lot of sweet to make up for the tea part.

I tried, though. I sat on the front porch swing and rocked. It didn’t make the tea any better. Neither did the wide chairs on the front porch. As it turns out, the chairs with a mug of coffee first thing in the morning are damn-near perfection.

Maybe I should just own the fact that I’m a java girl and that anything less is just that… less.

There’s no Georgio in Aspen. There’s a micro version I named Luigi since I swear I hear the Mario Bros theme song when I push its buttons.

The good news is I get Luigi, and he gets me.

Together we make beautiful caffeine babies.

I’m real close to getting a Mario for at home, but my husband might threaten to divorce me with another machine.

Maybe not. I can always request a barista instead and then Luigi’s twin, Mario, would be an easy compromise.

It's Sunday morning and I’ve made three perfect coffees in our bungalow. Two for me and one for Christian. He seems to have more discipline and a lower tolerance than I do with caffeine.

This place is perfection. I love our Cherry Hills home, but this is the place to exhale and be. Aspen might be bougie, but here I’m just Ayla and Christian is just Christian, not some business guru or a mogul.

“Hate to say this, Princess.” Christian looks up from his coffee cup. “But I think we need to get on the road early. ”

I want to whine. Or beg.

“Your face is like a six-year-old who just accidentally released her balloon.”

“I feel like that.”

“We can come back anytime. Next weekend?”

“Depends on Ci’s surgery. I don’t want to be too far away if he needs help. Or if Ellie needs a walk.”

“Well, it’s not going anywhere, and when you want, we can come stay a while. No tea required.”

Oh, thank God. “Yeah, the tea protest was ill-founded.”

“Ill-founded?”

“It was worth it in principle. But in my mouth, not so much.”

He laughs and I stare. There haven’t been many light moments in the last several months. Most of my time with him has been serious. This Christian is almost cute. If a man that handsome can be called cute . I bet as a teenager he was a heartthrob.

“Did you ever struggle for a date in high school?”

He eyes me suspiciously. “I dated.”

“You dated? Or you got around?”

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

“Yeah. You were a player.” I roll my eyes.

“Wife, are you jealous of dates I had twenty years ago?”

“No, but I’m trying to figure out, if we have a son, how many condoms we’ll have to buy to avoid the pregnancy scares you inevitably wrought on your parents.”

“He could be a ginger.”

“As if your genes wouldn’t want to be dominant, even in utero. You can barely let me ride you, much less?—”