Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 147789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Mitch barked out a laugh at that one, leaned back into his own seat, and started to open his driver’s side door. Out of the two of them, Mitch was the one rushing them to the altar. Cody had been teasing him about that since he’d proposed on Christmas Eve. A burst of cold wind had him closing the door again, shutting them back inside the still-warm car.
“Hang on.” Mitch fished his phone out of his front pocket and dialed Colt. As the phone started to ring, Cody’s cell gave a loud chirp. It had to be Kylie. She and her mom had been texting them since Christmas. Cody went for his phone.
“Open your door. It’s too cold out here,” Mitch instructed when Colt answered his call. He turned just in time to catch Cody shaking his head and smiling from ear to ear. Mitch had to know what put that sweet-silly look in his honey’s eyes. “What’d she say?”
“She put the Barbie to bed and thought we should see her sleeping,” Cody said, lifting the phone to show the picture Cody’s sister had just texted.
“That’s sweet. They’re wearing matching pajamas.” Kylie had a thing for her Uncle Cody. Since Christmas Eve, they’d been getting regular pictures of her Christmas present from them—Barbie eating breakfast, dressing up, playing outside, dressing up again, and now going to sleep. Kylie was overly precious and had turned out to be a little unexpected ray of sunshine in Cody’s recovery.
The porch light came on, and Mitch heard Colt’s laughter inside the car. He glanced at the phone in his hand and realized he had forgotten to end the call through his and Cody’s exchange. Shit! He winced and quickly hung up. Bad move on his part. Mitch liked always having the upper-hand, especially after all the shit he’d given Colt over the last year. Now, he’d just given Colt something to hold over his head.
Before Cody opened his door, Mitch placed a hand on Cody’s arm, stopping him in mid-motion. “Babe, just so you know, I’m gonna proposition Jace about a three-way at least ninety times over the next few days, so don’t let it surprise you. You should know I don’t mean it. I gotta get under Colt’s skin. You remember what the guy did to me, right?”
Cody’s brow lowered. “You two are terrible. I kinda feel obligated to them. I wouldn’t’ve met you if they hadn’t brought you to JR’s.”
“Dammit!” Mitch hissed and turned away. “I forgot about that. Shit. Okay, maybe just once or twice, then.” When Cody gave him that look of uncertainty, he tried to quickly explain. “I’ve got to, Cody. Otherwise, I got nothing other than the bacon to mess with him about. You have to admit it’ll drive him crazy. Just don’t say anything. Let me do the talking.”
“I know. Okay, but remember your dad made me promise that I’d make you be nice,” Cody said, opening his door this time. Mitch reached over the seat, grabbing his duffle bag from the backseat. Cody walked around to the back of the car, and knocked on the vehicle’s trunk, signaling for him to open the hatch.
Mitch couldn’t avoid the cold any longer; he had to get out of the car. He lifted the knob, opening the back then pulled on the handle to his door. Cold swept through the open door, prickling along his exposed skin as he slid out and shivered his way around to the back of the vehicle. His mister was lifting their luggage from the trunk.
“You aren’t supposed to lift that much weight,” Mitch said, taking the suitcase from Cody in mid tug.
“I’m fine, Mitch. Give it to me,” Cody said, giving him a struggle for the handle. Mitch sighed in frustration, but didn’t give an inch. They both knew what the doctor had said Cody’s restrictions were. Mitch didn’t give a shit what Cody thought about his recovery; he wanted him back to a hundred percent, which meant Cody was going to follow every damn instruction the doctor gave.
“You’re hardheaded,” he thrust his much lighter duffle into Cody’s stomach and managed to pull the suitcase handle from Cody’s grasp.
“You treat me like I’m an invalid,” Cody shot back, catching his bag before it hit the ground.
“Trouble in paradise?”
From behind him, Colt’s voice echoed through the chilly air. Mitch jerked, reaching for the weapon that usually sat on his hip. He’d lost track of what they were doing and hadn’t heard Colt approach. How good a job could he do at protecting Cody if he just let someone sneak up on them without knowing? To top everything off, Colt’s tone matched his expression—both mocking him. Mitch furrowed his brow.
“Who knew we’d be seeing you again so soon.” Colt extended his hand toward Cody.
Cody’s smile was brighter than the full moon as he accepted the handshake. Colt and Jace had come to his parents’ house in upstate New York for Christmas. They’d spent about forty-eight hours there before heading back to Dallas. Mitch had been on his home turf, so he was able to give Colt all the shit he wanted. Now, clearly, by the look on Colt’s face, he planned a counter-attack. Fuck!
Let the games begin.
While they continued to clasp hands, Colt carefully took the duffel off Cody’s shoulder. Mitch scowled even more when Cody didn’t utter a word of protest. His guy had argued over handling their luggage since leaving his parents’ house. Now, he just handed it over to Michaels without any sort of complaint?
“Thanks for letting us stay here,” Cody said, his voice warm and friendly. Colt just looked his way and winked. Mitch knew exactly what Colt was doing, and it wasn’t going to work.
“You wanna carry something? Take this, frat boy.” Mitch thrust the heavier suitcase toward Colt, and, in the same move, snatched the duffle bag from Colt. Startled, all eyes turned his way, and only then did he realize his monumental mistake. He’d just given Colt more ammunition to use against him. Double damn.