“No, no!” She shoos me away. “You’ll burn yourself. Give them some time to cool off.”
I pull my hand back. “You mean I have to waitmore?”
“Yeah.” She laughs. “Good things happen to those who exercise patience. Didn’t anybody tell you that?”
“Nope. My brothers told me I need to seize the day.”
“You can seize all you want later.”
That sounds suggestive, but before I can respond, the doorbell chimes. Molly frowns and looks at me. “Did somebody just bypass the intercom?”
“Yes.” I stride to the foyer. Molly follows.
“Do you think it’s Joey?”
“Better not be.” I’ll definitely dunk him in the pool. Maybe I should just get a couple of Uzis for home defense.
I open the door. Cody stands before us in a whiteI Heart VegasT-shirt and denim shorts. His black hair is limp without any styling products—he’s overly fond of gel—and his clothes accentuate the lankiness of his frame. His pale face looks so young it’s like somebody put a high school kid’s head on the body of a thirty-year-old. Next to him are seven neatly stacked cardboard boxes.
“Hey, boss,” he says cheerily. “Hello, Molly.” He turns back to me. “Got everything you asked for.” He starts to carry the boxes in. His movements are measured and precise, and he doesn’t appear to hurry. But he’s so efficient that he moves more quickly than most people.
I help him bring the stuff inside. Molly makes as if to lift one, but I shake my head at her. “Leave them.”
“I can help.”
“I know, but you’re supposed to let me carry the heavy things and admire me while I flex my arms manfully.”
Cody makes a sound that sounds suspiciously like a snort.
“I already admire your body plenty,” she says lightly.
“How can it be ‘plenty’ when you’ve never swooned?”
She laughs, then puts the back of her hand to her forehead and lets out a long, soft sigh. “Oh my…” she says in a faux-Southern accent. “Is it hot in heah? Ah feel sodizzy…” She collapses bit by bit into a chair, then squints at me through her fingers. “Satisfied?”
“Don’t forget to say which of my body parts is making you swoon.”
“All right. If Ah can mustah the energy while fanning mahself.”
Once all the boxes are in the living room, I turn to Cody. “Thanks.”
“Thankyou. I’ll make good use for your jet for our honeymoon.”
Cody isn’t somebody I can force to work overtime without an outrageous bribe.
“And do I smell cookies?” He shoots me a wicked smile. “Can I get one?”
I roll my eyes. “Not unless you want to die. Leave.”
“We could give him some. I made plenty,” Molly says.
“Just joking,” Cody says. “I’m on a diet.”
I wave him away, and he leaves with a soft chuckle.
“That’s too bad about the diet.”
I shake my head. Cody isn’t dieting. He doesn’t eat anything with more than a teaspoonful of sugar in any case. He was just messing with me because he knows I like Molly. I wish Molly could accept how I feel about her as easily as Cody does.
