“Yup.” I pull out the half—that damn Noah ate the other half yesterday—and cut it into two pieces. I put the bigger one on a Disney Frozen plate with Elsa and microwave it because he likes his pie hot. Once it’s reheated, I put a huge scoop of vanilla ice cream and set it on the dining table. I have my own piece cold on an Olaf plate.
He takes a seat, then lets out a sigh of appreciation as the smell hits him. “You’re the best cousin a man could have.”
“Don’t I know it.” I laugh as he digs in. “Want something to drink?” I say when his lips form an O and he fans himself. He always burns the roof of his mouth, but never seems to learn.
He nods.
I pour him the last of the OJ, then reach for a bottle of vodka and fill my glass half-way. I top it with cranberry juice and sit down with my portion of the pie.
TJ’s thick brows jump three inches on his forehead. “A little early for that, don’t you think?”
“It’s a Christmas gift from Yuna, and it’s like midnight where she’s from.”
He gives me a look. “She lives in Beverly Hills.”
“But her Korean roots are strong.” I take a big bite of the pie. So delicious. Iamthe best.
He frowns, all concerned now. “Did something happen? The bakery struggling? If so, don’t stress about it. I can always get you a job.”
By that, he probably means a position in Tony Blackwood’s vast empire. But I don’t want to manage security for his clubs. Or go back to guarding his wife, Ivy. Not because she was a difficult client, but bodyguarding just isn’t my dream. I got disenchanted real fast.
“The bakery’s going great,” I say before TJ starts making calls. I don’t bring up Floyd because TJ might do something. Like permanently rearrange his face, which wouldn’t accomplish anything. Besides, since my dad’s death, TJ’s overprotectiveness has gone into overdrive. He means well, but I’m an adult. He doesn’t need to treat me like some uncoordinated toddler left by a pool.
“Then why are you drinking before noon?” His tone saysyou ain’t foolin’ nobody, especially me.
“It’s Noah.” Don’t want to say it, but if I don’t fess up, TJ will drive me insane with questions.
“That shithead?” My cousin’s eyebrows pull together. He’s never met Noah, but knows how he’s ghosted me over and over again. TJ’s meaty hand gets tighter around his fork. “Did he at least apologize for hurting you?”
“Ha. No. He would never. He has no clue that he did anything wrong.”
“Then keep him out of your life. Simple.” To TJ, everything is black and white. Gray is a weasel category for doing things you know you shouldn’t but refusing to admit it. I wish my mind was that uncomplicated.
“Not so easy. He’s back in town.” I take a big swallow of my cocktail.
My cousin looks confused. “Doesn’t he live in Malibu? So he’s always been in SoCal?”
“Yes. But he washere. In this kitchen.” I point my fork at his plate. “The reason you’re only getting a quarter of a pie is because he ate half.”
TJ’s face slowly turns red. He probably feels personally violated. “What the fuck? Why did you let him in and feed him pie?”
I bristle at the unfair accusation and at the humiliating realization that maybe I look that clingy and desperate when it comes to Noah. “He broke into my home!”
“And you didn’t kill him?” His gaze slides to the drawer where I keep the Glock.
“I might’ve, if I’d thought I could get away with it. But he isn’t worth going to jail for.” Plus his very rich, very famous movie producer daddy wants him to make babies. Offing him before that happens would bring a lot of heat.
TJ seems somewhat mollified. “So why was he here? I mean, your apple pie is great and all, but…”
I sigh, then tell TJ what happened, including the incident involving Lorcan.
He starts to turn red again. “Son of a bitch! I told you meeting the men you found on those apps was a terrible idea!”
“TJ, everybody does it. It’s really hard to meet a good guy these days.”
“Because you keep using those apps.”
“It’s not the apps, it’s Lorcan. What kind of weirdo thinks there’s something between us after exactly one disastrous date?”
