Page 65 of For the Record
I’ve only been with Olivier,Sawyer had mentioned.
If Coy’s suspicions were correct, then the loathsome late husband had never taken the time to properly please his wife.But what about masturbation?Had Sawyer never made herself come before?
“So,” Bree said, bringing Coy’s attention back to their conversation. She set a coffee down beside Coy. “Is this where I’m supposed to ask what your intentions are withMaman?”
Coy smiled, not looking at Bree as she lowered the burner setting and cracked eggs into the pot of porridge. “You could, yeah.” She stirred in the eggs before setting the spoon down. “Do you have frozen fruit I can add in?”
“Yep.” Bree climbed off the stool and went to the freezer, retrieving a bag of mixed fruit moments later. When she sidled up beside Coy, she examined her closely, studying her eyes.
Coy’s cheeks heated under Bree’s intensity. “Is that your way of asking?” An awkward laugh escaped her, and she broke the weird eye contact to pull the porridge off the burner.
“I don’t need to, but Iwillthank you.” Bree wrapped an arm around Coy’s shoulders, kissing her cheek. “When do you plan on telling her?”
“Oh, I um,” Coy cleared her throat. Her heart was in her throat as she slipped past Bree for a bowl. Was she referring to Coy’s feelings for Sawyer? Was she that obvious? She took the fruit, emptying some in the bowl before placing it in the microwave. Fresh fruit in her nana’s porridge just wasn’t the same as frozen. “Where can I find chocolate chips?”
“You’re deflecting, but it’s okay. I just, I really like you, Coy.” Bree handed her the bag of chocolate chips, and for the first time, Coy noticed the shyness in her. She looked like a young, shorter version of Sawyer standing beside Coy, but with Olivier’s eyes and hair. “I don’t want you to up and disappear after your job is done.”
“Never,” Coy promised, her throat swelling with emotion. She pulled Bree into a hug, murmuring, “You’re incredible. No matter what, I’ll always just be a call away if you or your mom need anything. Besides, I still need to get you out on the trail with me and Sloane.”
“And J.D.?” Bree blurted and flushed adorably.
“Oh, I see how it is,” Coy teased, ruffling Bree’s hair affectionately. “You’ve been creeping his Insta, haven’t you?”
“He’s single.”
“Mm-hmm. So does that mean you’ll be sticking around, then?” Coy asked, leaning against the counter and opening the bag of chocolate chips. She shook a few out in her palm, watching Bree pull bowls out of the cupboard.
“Maybe. It’s nice being close toMamanagain. I’d missed her, missed my friends, you know?”
“Yeah, that’d be hard,” Coy agreed, wiping her hands off. Bree helped her plate the porridge, laughing when Coy insisted the chocolate chips had to go on the bottom of the bowls. Then theporridge with a dollop of butter, the fruit, shredded coconut, and finally, a sprinkle of brown sugar.
“This isn’t fair,” Bree complained, hip-checking Coy as she grabbed her bowl to take to the table. “Of course,Mamanwill love your porridge. It’s not bland and super-duper healthy like mine was.”
“It’s totally healthy … ish.” Coy grinned, sitting down with Bree as well. “Be healthier with dark chocolate, I suppose, but not nearly as good.”
“Definitely.” Bree took a bite of the porridge, and her eyes widened in surprise. “This is actually really good, Coy.”
“You doubted my nana?” Coy feigned disbelief. Patches jumped on the table with them, and Bree shooed her away.
Sawyer entered the kitchen, already showered and dressed in business attire. Coy’s mood sank a little as she took in her lover, noting the aloof mask was back on display.
Even after we—
“Good morning, Bree. McCoy.” Sawyer glanced between Coy and Bree and cleared her throat. “I assumed you’d left already.”
“Ahh, no,” Coy replied slowly, her gaze trained on Sawyer as she went to the espresso machine. She hardly recognized this woman from the one she’d made love to just hours earlier. “I made breakfast. And it’s Sunday, so no work if I can help it. I’ll head over to my pop’s in a little bit to watch the game, though.” She glanced at Bree, who was watching their exchange intently. “Do you like baseball?”
“I don’t know enough about it to say one way or another,” Bree admitted, frowning in her mother’s direction. She quickly finished her breakfast and carried her bowl to the sink. “Good morning,Maman,” she murmured, rubbing Sawyer’s back. “Are you okay?Peu importe ce qui se passe, tu as besoin de lui en parler. Je vais vous donner du temps seul.”
One of Coy’s eyebrows shot up at Bree’s obvious attempt to speak privately to Sawyer. What better way to do it if Coy didn’t understand a lick of French?
Gonna have to change that. Duolingo, here I come.
“What was that about?” she asked when Bree left the kitchen.
“Nothing.” Sawyer still didn’t look at her. She was pouring frothy milk into her mug, a stiffness to her shoulders that Coy would have spotted a mile away. She sighed, standing with her empty bowl and mug and dropping them into the sink just as Bree had done.
“Is this about last night?” Needing to busy herself, Coy grabbed the sprayer attachment and began rinsing off the dishes.