Page 41 of Frog

She stopped jogging and stepped off the trail, because apparently she really wanted me to hear what she was about to say. “He never laughs. He’s always serious. And that’s not to say that he doesn’t love his family. We know he does, we all feel his regard, but he’s just so driven and so focused that he comes off wooden and harsh and so lost in his own head sometimes. I can tell you that we all look forward to him leaving so the rest of us can relax and laugh and just have fun once he’s gone.”

But that made no sense at all.

“Don’t get me wrong. If I had a brain tumor, if I needed someone to tinker around inside of my skull, Cy’s the guy I would go to in a heartbeat,” she assured me. “But the face he made yesterday when he saw you playing with the dogs, his smile, the way he can’t keep his hands off you… I really had no idea he had that in him. I’m as floored as the rest of them. Lyn said being with you guys at his house was absolutely surreal.”

I squinted at her.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“No, I truly do not.”

She nodded. “C’mon, run with me.”

So I let it go. We ran in silence, and it was nice, because normally I did it alone. It was comforting to know someone else was there. I could get used to not being by myself—very easily, if I wasn’t careful.

Everyone was up when we got back, and Brett walked over to me while I was drinking water with Rachel in the kitchen before we served ourselves breakfast.

“Thank you for running with her. I don’t like her going out alone, but I hurt my knee so I can’t go anymore.”

I nodded. “It was my pleasure.”

“I went with him, actually,” she told her husband pointedly. “He was up and out already.”

He forced a smile and then asked if he could have a word.

I walked with him out to the back deck, and he leaned forward so he could look out at the yard and not at me.

“I was trying to get my brother a life, but I was a dick to you, and that was shit.”

I chuckled, and he turned to look at me. “We’re good. Don’t strain nothin’.”

He huffed out a sigh and nodded. “Let’s eat. You must be hungry. You actually did something this morning.”

“Sleeping burns calories.” I arched an eyebrow for him.

He flipped me off, and we went in. Cy was in the kitchen, and I walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

“Good morning, cowboy,” he said, making sure only his lips touched me.

“What?”

He made a face. “You’re all sweaty.”

“You like me sweaty.”

“When I’m sweaty too.” His face told me I was disgusting as he pointed away from him. “Just go over there. Don’t touch me, okay?”

“C’mere.”

“No.” He started chuckling. “Gross.”

I made a move to grab him, and he jumped back.

“Weber!”

“Here kitty.”

“No,” he said, laughing, putting the counter between him and me. “Eat or go take a shower.”