Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,89
to laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Dude,” he said. “You’re a mess.”
“Fuck off.”
“Hey, I’m kidding. So things are going well, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said, ignoring that icy little sliver of doubt that kept trying to get under my skin. “They’re going great.”
“Told you there was nothing to worry about.”
I had to laugh. “Are you serious? That’s not what you said at all.”
“What did I say?”
“You said I could totally fuck it up and things could always go wrong.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Which did not exactly inspire confidence. Thankfully, I ignored you.”
“Then my advice is to keep on ignoring me. Somehow, I’m helping. I’m sure of it.”
After I took care of Cheyenne’s car, I got out of there quickly so she wouldn’t catch me.
She called me around four o’clock. I was sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for Mariah to get home.
“Hello?”
“Cole Mitchell! Did you do this?”
“What?” I couldn’t keep a grin off my face.
“My car! I was so grumpy, expecting to come out and find it all covered with snow, but it was totally cleaned off!”
“You must have a secret admirer,” I told her.
“Well, it was the best thing ever. Please tell him he’s the perfect man.”
“Come on, nobody’s perfect.”
“You don’t know him like I do,” she insisted. “I’m telling you. He’s perfect.”
I grinned. “Go on.”
“He’s gorgeous and sweet and generous. He makes me laugh, he’s the best dad ever, and everyone who knows him says what a great guy he is.”
“Yeah?”
“Plus,” she went on, lowering her voice, “he’s an incredible kisser, he’s good with his hands, and as an added bonus, he has a huge dick and knows how to use it.”
I felt like thumping my chest. “Good for him.”
“I’m madly in love with him,” she said. “I always have been, always will be.”
“Frankly, I’m not sure he deserves you,” I told her. “What makes you think he can make you happy?”
She laughed. “Some things, you just know.”
The following day, Wednesday, Moretti shared Bianca DeRossi’s contact information with me. At least, I assumed it was Bianca’s. He had her first and last name as Witchy Vixen. After shooting him a quick thanks, I saved her info—under the correct name—and gave her a call after work.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Bianca?”
“This is she.”
“Hey, this is Cole Mitchell. I’m a friend of Enzo Moretti’s and we met—”
“Of course! How are you, Cole?”
“Good. How are you?”
“Doing great, thanks. How’s the house coming along?”
“That’s actually what I’d like to talk to you about. I wondered if you might be able to give me some advice on the master bedroom. Specifically, I’d like to put in a window seat. Maybe some bookshelves.”
“Ooh, how nice. Are you a reader?”
“It’s actually for my girlfriend.”
“Even better.”
I smiled. “I think you might know her—Cheyenne Dempsey.”
“Of course I do! She’s in my book club. I love Cheyenne.”
“Me too. This is a secret project, though. I don’t want her to know I’m doing it.”
“My lips are sealed. This is so sweet, Cole. I didn’t realize you two were a couple.”
“Well, it’s still kind of new,” I said. “But it’s serious. We’ve known each other forever.”
She sighed. “So romantic. And I promise, we will design you a book nook that will make Cheyenne lose her mind. She’ll never want to leave your new house.”
I laughed. “Good.”
“This isn’t a Christmas present, is it? Because I don’t think we’ll be able to get it done in time.”
“No, I don’t close until the twenty-ninth, and I won’t move in until after the first. I don’t even own any furniture yet. We’ve been living with my mother since Mariah’s mom died, so . . .”
“I understand. And I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” I tried to lighten the mood. “It’s been nine years. You’d think I’d have at least a couch by now.”
She laughed politely. “We’ll fix you right up. I’m not that busy in January, and I’d love to help you out. I have a lot of good contacts in Chicago and around here too—why don’t you let me help you?”
“I’d love that, but I’m not sure I can afford you.”
“I’ll consider it a favor. How’s that?”
“Really? I don’t mean you’ll have to work for nothing, just that I—”
“I’m positive we can work it out. Who knows? I might need your help with something in the future.”
“Just say the word,” I told her. “I’d be glad to return the favor.”
“Perfect. Let’s look at the calendar and set up a time to look at your new house.”
My new house. I loved the sound of that.
And it wasn’t just a new house to me—it was the start