The gravel lot of Ari’s came into view just a couple minutes later and was already half full. Thankfully the rain had turned from downpour to light mist, which meant the patrons would probably not be utilizing the patio, either getting their food to go or cramming themselves inside the small indoor dining space.
Cody put the truck into Neutral, pushed down the e-brake, and shut off the engine, his movements fluid. When he took off his seat belt, he shifted uncomfortably and grimaced before commanding, “Stay here.”
He got out of the truck, closed the door, and disappeared from view.
A few seconds later at most, Cody opened his door again and threw something inside.
“Here, Ti Bet. I just couldn’t do it.”
I frowned down at the bundle that had landed in my lap briefly as Cody left in rather a hurry, slamming the door behind him and traversing the ramp to the side entrance of Ari’s in record time. Bewildered, I processed that Vinh’s crumpled boxers were in my lap.
My eyes flashed back up to the ramp, where Cody was standing in the open doorway with Bree, whose red hair was unmistakable even in the morning’s hazy, darkened light. I looked down at the boxers again and turned the implications over what he’d just done in my head.
What a rascal.
I was about to get out of this truck and work Fat Tuesday at a breakfast-and-brunch shack with my entire family—sans Uncle Gil—and with Dezi, all the while carrying the knowledge of… this.
A commando Cody.
The only thing that rivaled the power of that knowledge was the unforgettable, soul-changing feel of his hand in mine.
With no idea what to make of it all, I stuffed Vinh’s boxers into the glove box before exiting the truck. I manually locked the door, closed it carefully, and accepted my fate.
Laissez les bons temps rouler.
21
Cody
“You look nervous.Why do you look nervous?” Bree grilled me with suspicion in her gray eyes the moment I opened the door to Ari’s.
She looked over my shoulder as the creak of my truck door sounded, and I jumped, the warring emotions inside of me duking it out and only coming up with one clear course of action.
To deflect and flee.
With mild apology in my heart that belied the ruthlessness of my actions, I yanked Bree’s bandana down over her eyes and scurried past her into the restaurant and half-heartedly yelled, “Hah!”, ignoring the half a dozen zingers that flashed through my mind like they were written on a marquee.
My nerves were too brittle to choose one in time, which was probably why I didn’t see Liem’s Aunt Ari until I was crashing into her.
“Oh my!” she exclaimed as she bounced off my chest. I steadied her with a quick apology as she adjusted her skewed cat-eye glasses and looked me up and down. “You!” She pulledme into a quick, tight hug, the beaded necklace that was attached to her glasses tickling my face. “You’re just as beautiful as I remember, and I’m so glad you’re here! You’re helping out today?”
Well, if that wasn’t just the boost of self-esteem I needed, as well as a reminder that I would be working alongside most of Liem’s family today.
Not strangers on a cruise ship. Not co-workers who seemed intent on deliberately misunderstanding me.
But people like Ari. People who, even though I didn’t know them well, hugged me with such genuine intention that I didn’t recoil.
But at the same time, the stakes were fucking sky high. I wanted to impress all of them. In a moment of hubris—likely thanks to very nearly flustering Liem Lott, a true feat—I’d texted Bree and Vinh while I was changing into Vinh’s clothes to confirm that they were okay with me helping at the restaurant today. Vinh might have answered differently than his “Yes, that’d be great” if he’d known I’d been pulling his underwear up and over my ass as he sent it, only to gracelessly pull them off in the parking lot of his family’s restaurant.
There was still some fear lingering in the background, though. Fear that I wasn’t capable of truly being a help. But being smushed into Ari’s bosom had dissipated it somewhat, and the genuine smiles that Liem’s parents and even Vinh gave me in greeting helped even more.
“Here,” Vinh said, presenting me with a black apron.
I took it and glanced at Bree as she materialized beside him, bandana headband back in place and a glint in her eye—one that said I’d need to watch my back this morning. I wasn’t sure if she would pull something here, but she could be a sneaky snake when she wanted to be.
I folded the apron in half, wrapped it around my waist, and tied it in the back, the procedure as familiar to me as pulling a shot of espresso. “I’m not stealing someone’s apron, am I? Isn’t that similar to Bree’s thing? Taking other people’s clothes? I wouldn’t want to step on her aesthetic.”
The irony of all this pleased me greatly.
