For You (The 'Burg #1)(113)

“What I think is that enough of this shit is spreadin’ around,” Colt said. “Amy’s dead and everyone knows her as a quiet, good woman. She doesn’t need that coloring anybody’s memory of her.”

Sully shook his head. “That won’t happen. Craig’s promised to keep it quiet and you know anyone else who knows will. Including Nowakowski.”

“All right, Sully, all I’m askin’ is, you just keep it that way.”

“To the grave,” Sully promised, lifting his hand like he was taking an oath.

“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” Colt told him and meant it. Sully could definitely be a pain in the ass.

“A pain in the ass that helped score multiple counts of unlawful entry on the sick f**k who’s makin’ your and Feb’s life a livin’ hell, not to mention whatever else we can pin on him through that shit,” Sully grinned. “I’m thinkin’ a nice shot of single malt from you, or two, and an invitation to sit in on Feb’s next frittata.”

“Feb’ll make you a frittata every day for a year, you find this guy.”

Sully kept grinning. “Once is enough, every day’s too much of a good thing.”

He was wrong, he hadn’t had her frittata.

Then again, if Colt had it every morning then when would he have her stuffed French toast?

* * * * *

Colt was walking back to the Station from a very ticked off Mimi’s with his muffin in a white bag and his Americano when his phone rang. He shifted the bag into the same hand as the coffee, yanked out his phone and saw the display said “Feb Calling”.

He flipped it open one-handed and put it to his ear.

“Yeah baby.”

“You owe me.”

Her voice came at him, husky and still full of sleep. She’d called him first thing after waking up, her mind on what she did to him with her mouth. That knowledge and the sound of her voice hit him direct in the gut and scored straight down to his dick.

She was right, he did. He owed her big.

That was why he smiled into the phone, stopped at the foot of the steps to the Station, dropped his bag and set his coffee on the stone balustrade.

“You just wake up?” Colt asked.

“Yeah, after you hit the shower, I slept clean through until Chip started banging away.” She didn’t sound pissed. She sounded slightly surprised though he’d only hit the shower three hours ago.

“Sorry about that, honey. New locks. New alarm.”

“That’s okay,” she said softly.

He took a sip of his coffee, waiting for her to say more, she didn’t so he asked, “There a reason you’re callin’?”

“Yeah, I’m running out of clothes. Is it okay if Dad or Morrie take me to my place to pick up more?”

Yes, it’s f**king okay, he thought.

“Sure,” he said then warned, “but honey, it was swept. It’s probably gonna be a little less than your usual clean.”

“Great,” she muttered.

“Then again,” Colt teased, wanting to take her mind off it, “most operating rooms are less than your usual clean.”

“I like order,” she replied, “especially when my life is chaos.”

“Bullshit, Feb,” Colt kept teasing. “You’re Jackie Owens’s daughter. You like order all the f**king time.”

“Something wrong with that?” she asked, now getting pissed. She always hated being teased which meant he used to do it a lot because she was cute when she was pissed, that was only when it was under his control.

“Nope, nothin’ wrong with that,” Colt answered.

She hesitated then called, “Colt?” like he wasn’t on the phone with her but she was trying to catch his attention.

“I’m right here.”

“Um… would you mind if I…” another pause then quickly, “clear a drawer and maybe… commandeer a few hangers?”

Fucking hell, she wanted to move her shit in and Colt felt that in his gut too.

“You know, so I don’t have to live out of a bag?” she finished on a rush.

“Take as much room as you need,” Colt paused too and then said, “and bring over as much shit as you want.”

Feb was silent a moment before she said softly, “Okay, babe.” Then she asked, “What’s your day gonna bring?”

“So far, it’s brought more dirt on Denny, I’ll tell you about it tonight.”

“They closer?” she asked.

“Closin’ in.”

“Thank God,” she whispered then, her voice stronger, “since I had an unscheduled day off yesterday, I need to be at the bar tonight. You wanna meet me there for dinner? Frank’s. On me.”

“You’re on. Six o’clock.”

“You want me to tell Darryl you want a tenderloin so you’ll maybe get a burger?”

He smiled into the phone before he said, “Why don’t we try a patty melt, see what that brings?”

He heard her laughter coming at him through the phone.

You made her laugh, she doesn’t do that much.

He heard Ryan’s words through Feb’s laughter. Ryan was right, it was true, Feb didn’t laugh much. Not for years and only genuinely with Palmer and Tuesday. She’d been doing it a lot more recently, mostly with him.