Page 73 of Peer & Coco

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Page 73 of Peer & Coco

She pushed against his chest and got up from the couch. "Make up your mind, Peer. I'm going to take a shower."

He shook his head, lost in the conversation. Was she growing her hair out for him?

His chest loosened over Coco's sweetness, thinking about what he liked after dealing with Kelli's selfishness. Coco only had to be herself for him. He wasn't picky. She looked beautiful however she styled her hair.

The crazy haircuts were nice. It made her look different, sexy, tempting.

He got up, wishing he could join her in the shower, but Tyr never slept long during the daytime. Grabbing bottled water out of the fridge, he took off the cap and tossed it on the counter. Today's business made the day seem longer, harder than normal. In a couple of hours, they'd need to take Tyr to the clubhouse and get ready to work at the bar.

Movement out of the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. The papers on the mantle fluttered to the floor.

He went over and picked them up before Tyr woke up and made a mess. His son loved to rip paper apart—a new fondness he developed when he was bombarded with presents on his birthday.

Putting the papers Kelli gave him on the mantle, he set the spare riding gloves he kept handy on top to keep them from falling again.

His cell vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the screen. His father. He connected the call.

"Hei, Pappa." He sat down and talked with his dad.

While he updated his dad on the timetable of his plans, talking in his native tongue relaxed him. It was easier to express himself in the language he grew up using.

He was able to discuss how much he loved Coco and the special care she took of his son. It felt good to get his worries off his shoulders about traveling with his son and the changes Coco would need to make to adapt to the colder weather.

Norway, while being his home, wasn't where his heart was any longer. He spoke of his worries about the Mother Chapter—which his father was a member of. It would be a struggle in his home country. Slag had many enemies overseas, and they were all fighting to take Slag's territory away.

Moving away from Portland, he would leave behind the pride of what Slag had accomplished in the states. He was a part of that, unlike in Norway. He'd left home at twenty years old and made his footprints on U.S. soil. He wanted to give that to his son.

His dad chattered in his ear, trying to talk him out of moving. The advice came from the love in his heart and concern about the uprising going on back home. He would like nothing more than to make his family proud and stay, but he wouldn't risk losing his son.

He told his dad if he had any other way to guarantee keeping Tyr, he would do it in a heartbeat, but he was losing hope. Kelli kept coming around. She wasn't giving up.

Coco walked into the room. He winked at her and said farewell to his dad.

"Tyr's stirring. He'll be waking up any minute." She plopped down on his lap. "Have I ever told you how sexy it is when you talk in Norwegian?"

"Ja." He chuckled and grew serious. "It was my dad."

"Everything okay?"

He inhaled deeply. "Listening to him, it makes me think."

"About?"

"Going home." He kissed her loudly on the cheek and picked her up as he stood, setting her on her feet. "Let's get Tyr up."

"Wait." She grabbed his hand. "You're changing your mind?"

"Nei." He shrugged. "I'm only thinking."

"Does your thinking include me?"

"When I know what it is that bothers me, I'll talk with you." He patted her hip. "Don't be worrying."

"We're supposed to leave next month."

His chest tightened. "Until I know differently, that's the plan."

"Peer...," she whispered frowning.

Tyr cried out. Peer motioned with his chin and walked out of the room. He had no answer for her because he couldn't figure out why he found himself reluctant to take his family out of the states. Maybe if he hadn't had the conversation with his dad—those niggling doubts would've stayed buried.

Maybe Kelli's visit set wrong with him.

He couldn’t figure out what bothered him in a split second. He needed time.




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