Reaper's Fire
Page 17“Stop!” Tinker said, holding up a hand. “I can’t hear things like that. Just leave me in peaceful ignorance, okay?”
Tom laughed, looking pleased with himself. His mind might wander at times, but right now he was obviously with us and enjoying every minute. Must’ve been a hell of a guy in his prime.
“You want another beer?” Darren asked me, lifting up his empty.
“Sure,” I said, reaching for mine and polishing it off.
“We really need to change the subject now,” Tinker announced. “Dad, you aren’t allowed to talk unless it’s about something safe and neutral.”
Tom laughed, then nodded his head. “Sure thing, Stinker.”
She groaned, and Carrie burst out laughing. “Remember how we used to call you Stinker Bell?”
Tinker flipped her off, then turned to me with a big, fake smile. “So tell me, Cooper, how do you feel about friends who don’t know when to keep their mouths shut? I was considering hitting her over the head with a shovel, but I hear drowning works, too.”
Grinning at her, I shook my head. “Slippery slope, Tinker. In the end, those are the kind of friends you can really count on. If you kill them off, you got nobody to help you bury the bodies.”
Carrie burst out laughing. “See? I’m right and you’re wrong. Again.”
“I hate both of you,” Tinker declared, but she was giggling. “Now I’m not going to share any of my caramels.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Carrie replied. “You know damned well you can’t say no to me.”
“She’s a force of nature,” Darren agreed, dropping down into the seat next to her. He handed me another bottle. “You put the two of them together and things can get scary.”
“I was six years old, Stink.”
“Yeah, but you cried like you were two,” Tinker said, waggling her eyebrows. “I’ll never forget it. He kept whining about wanting his mommy, and Dad had to climb up and get him.”
“Do you really want to play this game, Stink?” Darren asked, arching a brow. “Because if you want to play chicken, I’m game. So Cooper, when Tinker and Carrie—”
“Shut your mouth!” Tinker hissed as Carrie smacked him on the shoulder.
“Don’t you dare, you horrible man!”
“Hey, I wasn’t going there,” Darren insisted, holding up his hands. “I planned to tell him about when you went swimming at the quarry and your suit came off.”
An image of her naked and slippery in the water sprung to life in my mind. I coughed, shifting uncomfortably. That brought our legs into contact, which wasn’t exactly helpful.
“Shut your mouth, Darren,” Tinker repeated, but she looked relieved. Interesting—there must be a hell of a story behind that little exchange. I wanted to hear it.
“Truce?” Darren asked.
“Truce,” Tinker agreed.
“Jesus, Darren. You suck,” Carrie said, poking his side.
“She started it.”
“You love us and you know it,” Carrie reminded him. Tom grunted, but he came around and gave Tinker a kiss on the top of the head when he stood to go. We watched him walk inside, then Carrie turned to Tinker.
“Do you really think they did all that crazy shit? I can’t picture your dad on acid.” She shuddered.
“Not sure I want to know,” Tinker replied. “And I definitely don’t want to picture it.”
Darren snorted. “The old man’s been around. Up at elk camp he told some great stories.”
“You’re supposed to share things like that,” Carrie said.
“It’s just guys blowing smoke,” he replied mildly. “Never gave it much thought. You about done, babe? We should probably get going.”
“Yeah, I’m done,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m a man of many secrets,” Darren said, poking her nose. “You’ll have to torture them out of me.”
Carrie laughed. “That can be arranged.”
“Take your disgusting married love and get out of here,” Tinker said, flapping a hand at them. “I meant what I said about the hose earlier—I’ll turn it on you if you start making out.”
“Don’t you want some help cleaning up first?” Carrie asked.
“I’ll take care of it,” Tinker replied. “Just throw your plates in the garbage and put the silverware in the sink.”
“I can help,” I volunteered, because apparently my balls weren’t blue enough already. Tinker gave me a beautiful smile.
“Thanks,” she said, her voice low and mellow.
Did I say blue balls? Make that purple.
Fuck.
TINKER
Five minutes later, Carrie and Darren had said their good-byes, leaving me and Cooper alone. Well, sort of alone. I mean, we were in a gazebo in a courtyard surrounded by apartments. I had no doubt that Mrs. Webbly was watching at this very minute. She’d lived in the ground floor apartment facing the street—across the lawn from my own house—since before I was born, and considered herself something of a guardian for the community.
“So you obviously grew up here,” Cooper commented. God, he was pretty. I’d spent the whole meal refusing to look at him so I wouldn’t make an ass of myself. He has a girlfriend, remember? “But your husband didn’t?”
“Brandon started out as a junior deputy prosecutor in Seattle, but now he’s worked his way up to director of the King County criminal division. I worked as a private chef when he first started, and then I expanded into the chocolate business a few years later. We split up about eighteen months ago. We’re still dealing with paperwork, and I’m trying to decide if I should buy him out of the house.”
Cooper eyed me, as if waiting for me to say more but I wasn’t going there. What’d happened between me and Brandon wasn’t public, and that’s the way I wanted it. Cooper seemed to figure this out, because he changed the subject.