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“He just made the best Oreo shakes ever. Just how you like it, with homemade whipped cream on top and a drizzle of dark chocolate syrup over it.”
Oh, it wasn’t even fair he remembered the Oreo shakes down to the smallest of details. What was he playing at? At the funeral, he made it clear I had only ever been a bad habit to him. Was he trying to prove he was the better person? Maybe that he loves Quinn more than I do? Well, I had news for him. No one loves her more than I do.
“Great.” I gritted my teeth, trying to be adult about the situation.
Quinn swung the door open wide for me.
I steeled myself before walking through it, reminding myself to be cautious and watch where my eyes roamed. It was immature, I know, but that’s the way it had to be.
Quinn threw her arms around me as I walked into what my sister called a modern rustic kitchen. Supposedly, the painted sage cupboards and island and the white wooden walls made it so. I had no idea about these sorts of things. What I knew was crappy and cramped kitchens that I never used in my old apartments. I barely had time to eat, much less cook. But I would find the time for Quinn now. Especially during the holidays. I was going to pull out all Mom’s old recipe cards. Everything from gooey orange rolls to her Crock-Pot hot chocolate.
I held Quinn tight, glad she didn’t seem upset her mother was hitting the country club. I took my time, knowing her uncle was staring at me. I could feel his eyes rove over me. A hint of his amber scent mixed in with the chocolatey goodness in the air. Unfortunately, it was an excellent combination. One I used to crave. But not today. “Are you ready to plan the best Christmas ever?” I stuttered, feeling off, knowing he was nearby. My guess was he stood near the island, but I refused to check.
“Yep.” She let go of me.
I kept my head down and took my backpack and coat off. “Just let me hang these up and I’ll be right back.”
Quinn grabbed them from me and tossed them on the butcher block counter. I doubted her mom would appreciate it, but since she wasn’t here, c’est la vie. “Don’t worry about them now. Your shake is going to melt.” She grabbed my hand and led me toward my demise—I mean the island.
I kept my head straight and eyes down, thankful the idiot was tall at six foot three. Looking at his chest surely didn’t count. I couldn’t act like too much of a weirdo and completely look away. I just prayed he didn’t talk to me. Quinn better have told him the rules. Well, there was only one rule: ignore each other for eternity. Pretty simple, if you asked me. Hopefully, he wouldn’t ask me, thereby breaking the rule.
Especially since staring at his flannel-clad chest had me wanting to hyperventilate. I knew very well it was covering some deliciously defined pecs and abs. It was ridiculous how clearly I could still picture his smooth, tanned skin. I was pretty sure he waxed his chest, but I never asked, letting him keep that secret. All I cared about was that my fingers used to love to dance down the length of his chest and over the ripples of his abs, making his skin rise. Even better was resting my head upon it, listening to his heartbeat, lulling me to sleep.
I grabbed an Oreo shake before I was tempted to run off and find some of my old med school textbooks. Books with horrific pictures and descriptions in them. Anything not to think of him. However, I was determined to not let him get to me, so I stayed.
I took a long sip through a metal straw, letting the cookies and ice cream soothe my soul. Quinn filled my line of vision, smirking like the little con artist she is.
She wagged her perfectly arched brows. “Good, huh?”
I nodded, still sucking in the delectable shake. I figured this way, I wouldn’t even have to speak.
“Okay, let’s get down to business.” Quinn sat down on a stool and grabbed the notebook and pen near her.
I tilted my head to read what she had written all over the pink notebook. I love Kody. Who the heck was Kody? I would have asked, but I was working my way into a sugar coma. And then … the bozo sat down next to her, forcing himself into my line of sight.
Crap.
The suddenness of it all made me take in too much of the shake. I began spluttering, trying to avert my eyes, all while lunging for the stool on the other side of Quinn. No doubt I looked like a fool. It was a miracle I didn’t drop the mason jar holding the delicious ice cream concoction.
Tristan chuckled.
He could laugh all he wanted. I was keeping my blood oath. He would not intimidate me. I cleaned maggot-filled wounds and removed bullets lodged in skin for a living. Don’t even get me going on what people stuck up their intimate parts I’d had to retrieve. It was going to take more than some laughing to scare me off.
With my coughing under control, I took a deep breath in and let it out. “Why don’t we make a list of everything you want to do?” I suggested. “Then we can talk about scheduling.”
Quinn must have liked the idea, as she went right to work. “First, we have to find the best Christmas tree. Well, maybe we should buy all the stuff for the decorations and then make them before we get the tree. Or maybe it doesn’t matter,” she rambled as she wrote.
I smiled at her enthusiasm.
“I’m sure your aunt will know where we can buy the supplies,” Tristan said.
It was inevitable, but it made it harder to pretend he wasn’t there. And why was he mentioning me? Didn’t he say at the cemetery he would never bother me again? He was definitely bothering me. Besides, it didn’t take a genius to know we needed to go to a craft store. We could even get some supplies at the grocery store, like popcorn and cranberries for the garland.
I took another long sip of the shake and nodded.
Quinn giggled.
Yes, I was an imbecile. But at least I was upholding my principles.
