Rough Ride (Chaos #5)(38)

“You don’t sound much better, baby,” he said softly.

“Then you aren’t listening very closely.”

He grew silent.

I stared at my toes fighting against crying.

He broke the silence.

“Now, tell me what you got planned for your day.”

I cleared my throat, lifted my gaze, and focused on his tidy, winter yard. “Unpacking. Calling Colombo’s. Online shopping to build a vision for my reading nook.”

Your reading nook.

Damn.

“That all sounds good but not sure it’s gonna fill up your day, Rosie.”

He wanted me to fill up my day so I had good things to do, things to stay busy with, things that would keep me from getting in my head and messing with my own damn self.

And that was so damn Snapper.

“I also need rugs, a dining room table, garden furniture, another seating area,” and a portable crib. I didn’t share the last. I didn’t want him freaking at this point. One of us freaking was enough. I just finished, “I think now that I’m feeling better, I’m going to consider the rest of the time off more of a vacation and relax. Check in with Mom. Just…be.”

“That sounds like it’ll work,” he murmured.

I drew in a deep breath.

“You fall back into your head and it isn’t good, Rosie, you call me,” he ordered.

“Okay, Snapper.”

“I’ll text when I’m on my way tonight with food.”

“Okay.”

“Right, I’ll let you go now.”

“Uh…Snap?”

“Right here.”

I drew in another deep breath then said, “Thanks, honey, for pulling me out of my head.”

“Thanks for letting me.”

That had me closing my eyes again, dropping my head and opening them to stare at my toes.

“Pedicure,” I mumbled.

“Say again?”

“I’m going to give myself a pedicure today.”

“Call your mom and go out and get one with her.”

“That sounds perfect.”

It did and I decided to set that up before I even called Colombo’s.

And Snap sounded like he was smiling when he replied, “Great. Later, Scully.”

“The truth is out there, Mulder. It’s also in here, since you just laid a ton of it on me.”

The last thing I heard before he disconnected was him chuckling.

I loved that.

So much I memorized that in a way I hoped to God I’d never forget that moment and the sound of Snapper’s humor after all he’d just given me.

Then I took my phone from my ear and called my mother.





“Okay, give it to me, what’s going on with my Rosalie,” Mom ordered.

I’d unpacked. Colombo’s knew to put me on rotation. We’d had lunch, then manis and pedis. Now we were sitting on the couch in front of the windows at Fortnum’s Used Bookstore having a latte as crafted by a crazy man who looked like serial killers never looked, but you expected them to, who made the absolute best coffee in Denver.

And I was not surprised that my mom had read me.

“Snapper is coming over for dinner tonight and to have a heavy conversation about what’s next for him and me,” I shared.

“Good. And after that takes five minutes to figure out, I hope he gives you an orgasm during your first time which would round him out as utterly perfect for you,” she shot back.

I stared at her.

“Your father would love him,” she declared, leaned into me, and repeated with emphasis, “Love him.”

He absolutely would.

And that felt crazy-good.

It was high time I laid it out.

And as ever, I laid it out with my mother.

“Mom, Chaos is at war with a man called Benito Valenzuela. He’s the head of a syndicate that sells drugs, runs guns, peddles flesh, and makes porno movies.”

I watched my mom’s mouth turn down.

“And Chaos are vigilantes,” I kept going. “Even before this war with this Benito guy cropped up, they patrolled their turf and if they found something happening they didn’t like, this being illegal activities, they didn’t…and still don’t…call the police.” I paused, studied her closely and asked, “Are you understanding me?”

“I…uh, is this a bad thing?” she asked back.

Seriously?

I leaned toward her and hissed, “Mom! Snapper and his brothers are at war and they act like Chaos turf is Tombstone, they’re the Earp brothers, and they have every right to police it when it’s not Tombstone. It’s Denver. Well, parts are Englewood,” I meandered off target and then got back to it. “And Denver, and Englewood, have their own police.”

“So they’re an outlaw biker club who are outlaws by being citizens that make people obey the law,” she said.

That sounded almost…

Noble.

Damn.

“Well…yeah,” I replied.

“And this is bad because…?” she asked.

“Because it’s dangerous,” I snapped.

“And did you know this happened when you dated that Shy person?” she inquired.