It also came from her being there.
With Sasha.
In that house.
And LA, where she said she wanted to end up living.
“It…well, my mother never ceases to amaze me,” she said as her opener.
“Explain,” he ordered.
Her expression shifted with amusement before she did as told.
“We’re everywhere here, Judge. Us and also, even though Uncle Corey wasn’t a very there dad, Hale.”
He didn’t get it. “Right, now explain that.”
“He has pictures of us. Everywhere. If you didn’t know him, you’d walk into this house and think we were his family. His kids. His wife. Though, Dad’s all over the place too. He…”
She took a second.
He gave her that second.
“He really loved us,” she shared. “And I think that’s why Mom doesn’t want Hale to sell. This is like a temple to the people in his life Uncle Corey cared about. That being Hale, Mom, Matt, Sasha, me, my grandparents, I mean Mom’s folks, and also Dad.”
“Shit, baby,” he murmured.
“I’ve been here, of course,” she continued. “And I saw some photos, but I hadn’t been here in years. They multiplied. By a lot. When we were kids. Teens. Sasha playing volleyball. Matt playing tennis. Me behind the wheel of the convertible he owned that I loved that he let me drive all the time.”
This had to be a lot to process.
“How does that make you feel?” Judge asked.
“There’s more.”
He said nothing.
She did.
“He had three photos on his desk. The desk where he killed himself. Mom never saw them. At least, she hadn’t for decades. The first time she did was when Bowie came with her when she hit LA. She asked Hale about it and he said he’d seen them before. Not on that desk, but other places, like in his briefcase, or tucked in a bunch of pictures on his credenza at his office. Those frames moved around with him. Hale didn’t think he took them everywhere with him, but he’d seen them more than once and not in the same places. He asked about the man in them he didn’t know, and his dad just said, ‘He’s an old friend.’ But he never said more.”
Judge knew where this was going.
It went there.
“One was a picture of them when they were kids. All three of them, Mom, Bowie and Uncle Corey. Mom said it was during one of Corey’s late-night birthday parties Gram and Gramps used to throw because his parents were…well, not right, and they never celebrated Corey being alive.”
Shit.
“The other one,” she continued, “was Mom and Bowie, when they got back together the first time, back when they were in their twenties. Mom was sitting in Bowie’s lap and they had their arms around each other, smiling big at the camera.” Pause. “At Corey.”
“Right,” he muttered.
She finished it up.
“And the last was a picture of Bowie and Uncle Corey. Mom says she took it. They were in high school. Kicked back in the flatbed of a truck at a drive-in theater. They’d just had a popcorn fight. Bowie and Corey were covered in popcorn and,” another pause, “they were laughing.”
“That must have been hard for your mom to see,” Judge remarked. And you, he didn’t say…yet.
But she shook her head.
“No, it was…she told me that Bowie was all set never to forgive him. But he saw those photos, probably the last thing Uncle Corey looked at before he died, and it happened. I guess Bowie kind of lost it. But Mom said it was good. A release. Of the pain. And it was a reminder, of how good of friends they were. What he did will never be forgotten, but there is no way anyone, even Bowie, could walk through this house and not see the love Uncle Corey carried in his heart.”
Abruptly, she stopped talking, and although he could see her face, she turned away from the camera.
He gave her the time she needed.
She got it together and came back to him.
“For me, it changed things,” she said, her tone different, pensive. “Seeing that picture of all of them together as kids, then of Mom with Bowie back when they had their whole lives ahead of them, I…I…” She took a second then, “I’m sad about what happened with Mom and Dad, but something clicked, Judge. Seeing that photo, I think I finally got it. The fullness of their love story. Mom’s with Bowie. And now I’m genuinely happy for them and not just because I love my mother and I want her safe and settled, and Bowie is wonderful. Because, this is going to sound strange, but it’s a simple fact that they were meant to be.”
“Yeah,” he said carefully, because this had to have been a rough emotional road to travel.
But it was obvious to him as an outsider, just being around Duncan and Genny, not to mention knowing the story, that they were that.
Meant to be.
“So we had our meetings with some of the designer’s reps and we’re having fun and I mean it, honey. I’m having fun. This is exciting. Mom is ecstatic, and I love that she wants to make it a big thing to celebrate them finally having this. And I feel honored to be a part of it.”
“I so fucking dig that for you, Coco,” he replied.
“It’s even making being around Sasha cool.”
Well, shit.
“So that isn’t going as well?” he asked.
“I don’t want to say this, but I think the truth is, after she did what she did, and while she’s still not connecting with anything or anyone really, I’m not sure we’ll be the same.”
Yeah.
Shit.
“But Matt called and talked to Mom,” she carried on. “She put him on speaker, we all talked to him, and he asked to speak to me privately. I took the phone, and we had a chat. He told me he was being a dick, apologized, and shared he was contemplating. He had plans with some friends for spring break, but he secured a job this summer at a large animal vet clinic outside Prescott and he’s going to think about sitting down with Dad and talking things through.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes.”
“So this is all good.”
Her lips curved. “Yes.” Her lips stopped curving. “But I miss you.”
Right there, no hiding, she gave it to him.
“Miss you too, but you’ll be back tomorrow, and I’m picking you up from the airport.”
The curve returned. “Yes.”
“How’s being back home?” he asked, far from unaware that the question made him tense.
“Sorry?”
“Being back home, in LA.”
“I can’t wait to really get back home.”
Judge blinked.
He then noted, “I thought you loved LA.”
“Why on earth would you think that?” she inquired.
“Because you told me you planned to move back there.”
He saw the phone jostle, such was her surprise at that memory.
And then she admitted, “I was lying.”
It took a beat.
And then Judge roared with laughter.
When he was done, she had another small smile on her face, but it was cautious when she asked, “Were you worried about that, chéri?”
“Well, yeah,” he stated the obvious.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. I’m not worried about it anymore.”
“Sure?” she pressed.
“Sure, honey,” he promised.
Her face warmed.
They talked, and Judge ascertained she was telling the truth about something important. She seemed peaceful, happy, not weighed down by anything.
That was good, and he felt better when she eventually had to let him go so she could finish getting ready because they were all going out to dinner.
But before she did this, she said, “I left you a welcome-home-from-New-Mexico present in the kitchen.”
He was smiling, but surprised, when he replied, “You did?”
“Yes, mon beau, nothing big. Just a little somethin
g. It’s in the cupboard with the coffee mugs.”
Judge immediately got up to go see what it was, and when he did, Chloe hurriedly said her goodbyes, like she didn’t want to be on the call when he saw what she’d given him.
Which made him even more curious.
He noticed it right away when he opened the cupboard.
A green coffee mug with yellow lettering that said, Nothing’s perfect, baby, but we can give it the best we got.
The sight of it hit him right in the throat.
He’d seen her drink from hers at her place and he’d asked after it. She’d then told him the coffee mug story, how everyone in the family had one, given to them by Sully and Gage at Christmas.
Now he had one.
From Chloe.
Obviously, this made him feel even less twitchy.
A whole lot less.
But he didn’t feel exactly right until around the same time the next day, when he was standing in Sky Harbor Airport and he saw her walking toward him from the concourse.
And Judge wasn’t feeling perfect until she skip-ran the last fifteen feet and threw herself in his arms.
* * *
One week later…
“Hot guy delivery!” Mi shouted as she escorted Judge into Chloe’s office.
So he was laughing when he walked in.
Chloe was behind her desk, her laptop open, and she looked like she was scowling at it.
Her head came up as he stopped with Mi at his side, but Mi did a sideways bow with hands out his way, “I present thee with the finest thing in our store.”
Chloe was now smiling as she got up, skirted her desk and drawled, “Sadly for our customers, he’s not for sale.”
“Tragic,” Mi said, then winked at him, turned on her foot and said as she was leaving, “Several of them witnessed his entry. I need to hold back the hounds. Ta ta!”
And off she went as Judge called after her, “Later, Mi.”
“Later!” he heard from the hallway.
When he turned back, Chloe was right there.
He saw her looking gorgeous, dressed impeccably, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking in her office.
Because it was tight.
But also, it looked like a starter office for an up-and-coming retail magnate.
“Nice digs,” he noted when his gaze came back to her.
“Thanks.” She threw that word his way indifferently, as if her office wasn’t shit hot, then asked, “Is everything okay with my car?”
He was there, picking her up, because it was Saturday, she had to work, he did not, and he’d taken her car to be serviced that day.
“All good,” he answered.
“Excellent. So why aren’t you kissing me?”
He looked down at her. “Because I’m recovering from the one-two punch of how fuckin’ awesome your store is and how much more awesome this office is.”
He’d dropped her off that morning, but he hadn’t come in.
Now he’d seen it, and he was seriously impressed.
“My store is far more awesome than this office,” she sniffed, though the softness of her eyes told him his compliment registered.
He smiled.
Then he asked, “Why were you trying to get laser beams to shoot out of your eyes at your computer?”
She glanced back at her laptop, and when she returned to him, the scowl was back. “We open applications for Fabulous Foot Forward after we complete the round before. I try to keep up with them and prioritize them so when the time comes to make our selection, I’m not overwhelmed.”
“That’s smart.”
“And we just finished with our last candidate, and she was amazing. But the time is coming nigh for us to begin again.”
“None of this is explaining a scowl,” he noted.
“Any kid that signs up gets to go hiking, Judge. Mi and I have to select one woman a quarter, only four a year, out of hundreds of applicants. I think it would be easier and less painful to flay myself alive than whittle each quarter’s applications down to one.”
That was when he put his arms around her and murmured, “Rough, baby.”
“Torture,” she mumbled.
Christ, she was something.
“Can I help?” he offered.
She wasn’t focusing on him, her mind was on applications, but at his offer, she did that, and said, all breathy, “What a nice thing to say.”
“Babe, I’m in the business, so I like to think I know a thing or two. And it isn’t as close to my heart as it is yours. I might be able to be more objective.”
“You’d do that?”
He kept his arms around her even as he shrugged.
She melted into him, tipping her head back in invitation.
“We still need to talk about your office,” he announced.
Her brows shot together. “Why?”
“You said that LA wasn’t a thing, but this office says you’re serious.”
“Of course I’m serious.” There was a slight snap to that, and he got that, because what he said didn’t sound good.
“Serious about expansion,” he clarified.
“Oh, right, well…yes.” She tipped her head to the side. “Is that an issue?”
“No, just that…”
He didn’t finish.
She squeezed him with her arms.
And when he still didn’t say anything, she pressed by saying his name, “Judge.”
He moved his arms so he could wrap his fingers around either side of her neck.
“Okay, Coco, the thing is, it’s awesome as fuck, what you created. It’s very you, it’s very cool. I’m hella impressed. And I think we both get this is something, what we have. We’re exclusive. It got real fast, and we were both down with that. But you need to know, I want a family.”
“So do I.”
He stared down at her.
“Having a business doesn’t preclude having children, Judge,” she said, a little snap to that too. “My mother had one of the most enviable careers in Hollywood, and she had three, she never quit working, and she was a very hands-on mom.”
“I…that’s great. Great news, honey.”
She was glaring at him, but abruptly, that glare shifted.
And she whispered, not soft, or sweet, but pissed.
“What did those women do to you?”
Shit.
“Nothing,” he lied. “I’m just glad we’re on the same page with that.”
“Judge.”
That time, his name was a warning.
So he gave it to her.
“The last one, Meg, said she wanted kids, and maybe she does. But she led me to believe she wanted them sooner, not later. She wanted them later. I want them sooner.”
“Of course. You don’t want to be ninety and raising children,” she scoffed. “And she can’t be, unless some miracle of science elongates a woman’s reproductive years exponentially. Which I hope and pray does not happen, because I want children, but I’m also living for the day I don’t have to bother with the cramps and cravings and mood swings of having a period.”
Judge was staring again.
So her eyes got squinty.
“I see this hurt you,” she bit out.
“I’m way over her, Chloe,” he assured.
“I know that, Judge. Still. You do not lie about that to the man in your life. Things happen. Opportunities arise. Minds are changed. But I sense she lied so she could keep you when she knew, if she told the truth, she wouldn’t keep you.”
After they were over, and he thought about it, he’d sensed that too.
“Yeah,” he grunted.
Her cheeks started to pinken.
“Tame the cat, baby, she’s gone,” he told her. “The reason I was quiet after you said what you said is because I assume you want to start early too.”
“Yes,” she stated shortly. “When I’m forty I want to be teaching my daughters the importance of facials then leaving them with a babysitter to
have date nights with my husband, not changing diapers.”
He came in right when she finished speaking. “So we click on that too and it means a fuckuva lot to me.”
“This means you’re happy?”
“No. It means I’m super fucking happy.”
“So again, why aren’t you kissing me?” she demanded.
He grinned.
Slow.
Then he glanced over her shoulder at her desk.
“Judge.”
Another warning.
“We’ll be quiet,” he whispered.
“Judge.”
That wasn’t a warning.
It was breathy.
“You gonna lock the door, or am I?” he asked.
She licked her lower lip.
Judge didn’t mess about with locking the door.
Then he went back and kissed her.
A lot.
And he did that all over.
Chapter 24
The Settling
Judge
One month later…
The men sat by the fire under the night sky.
Judge, Rix, Duncan and Tom.
And Judge did it thinking he never got used to how many more stars there were in the sky when light pollution didn’t drown them out.
He did it also thinking how he wanted to extend Kids and Trails to include overnight camping trips so the kids could see this. He wanted to show them the wonder of it and how the human footprint didn’t just affect the earth, but also the heavens.
“Right, give it up.”
This coming from Rix took his attention from the sky and his kids to the man at his side, where Rix was sitting in a camp chair in front of the carefully contained campfire they’d built.
Duncan and Tom were sitting across from them.
They were back in New Mexico, shooting the final segments for the video.
They’d already done Prescott and California, and Chloe had come with them to both, including the latter, but when they were there, she’d insisted he stay with her in town at her favorite hotel, the Chateau Marmont.
This he’d done.
And that hotel was the shit.
Elegant and almost painfully cool.
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