26. Cole

Chapter 26

Cole

Isat with my feet kicked up on the railing of my porch, rambling on about what an idiot I had been to Tate and Quinn as we split a six-pack of beer and kept an eye on the neighborhood.

I hated how I left Madi. All I wanted to do was go back and make sure she was okay. But how could I when I was the one to hurt her?

“Colton James Sutter, I have a bone to pick with you.”

“Shit,” I muttered and sat straight.

Gigi came stomping across the street with Basil, his leash in one hand and a covered casserole dish in the other.

She’d spoken to Madi. That much was obvious.

“You’re in for it now.” Tate took a swig of his beer and watched me from the corner of his eye. “You’ve pissed her off.”

Quinn shook his head, eyebrows raised as he passed me another beer. “You’re probably gonna need this.”

“Thanks, man.” I took it, used the edge of my chair to pop off the cap, and took a healthy slug.

Whatever Gigi had to say, I deserved it and was ready to listen.

The sun had just started to set behind the Rocky Mountains in the distance, and usually, the sight of this familiar view was a comfort. But tonight, it felt wrong. My home didn’t quite feel like home anymore. I had the nagging sensation that I’d destroyed everything when I let Madi get away from me.

She glared at me pointedly as she let Basil take a dump in the middle of my lawn. I didn’t have it in me to protest.

Her glare turned into a hearty sigh of disappointment before her face softened, and she smiled at me. “I made you a chicken pot pie because I love you. But I’m letting Basil poo in your yard because you have made me mad. I decided to be passive-aggressive about this because I don’t want to yell at you. I understand what you’re going through, even if I don’t like it.”

“I—thank you?” I stood to grab the dish and help her out with Basil, but she shook her head.

“Sit back down.” Her voice rang with command. She was back to being mad at me. “We’re going to talk. Or rather, I will talk, and you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

Tate set his beer on the porch rail, eyes wide in alarm. Throughout our lives, we’d rarely seen Gigi get angry. “I don’t know if I should stay or go,” he whispered.

“You keep your behind in that chair, Tatum Jefferson Sutter. Do not even think of leaving that porch. You too Quinn. Don’t even think about it.”

“No worries, I wasn’t planning on thinking, Gigi,” Quinn assured her as he sent her a shit-eating grin.

“No sassing me either, Quinton. I’m in no mood for any funny business. Do not try to make me laugh.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry.” His smile slid to the side as he apologized.

“Okay, Miss Gigi,” Tate said, reverting to what we used to call her. “What exactly did we do?”

“Nothing. I might need a backup with this one. And I’m frustrated. Sorry for stirring up a fuss.” She jerked her head toward me as her hands were still full.

“You got it, Gigi. Understandable, Cole can do that to a person.” He sat back and put his feet on the railing. “We’ve been trying to talk some sense into this knucklehead since we arrived.”

Basil finished his business and happily pranced to the porch to sit at Gigi’s side.

“What in the heck were you thinking?” she demanded, plopping the casserole dish on the table near the front door and then taking the chair at the edge of the porch.

Basil hopped into her lap and curled against her, ready to relax after desecrating my lawn.

“I’m not completely sure,” I answered. “I didn’t intend to break up with her. I mean, I don’t think I did. It wasn’t clear what we had⁠—”

“He keeps saying he doesn’t know what he wants,” Tate interjected. “Which is total bullshit.”

“That’s what I thought. Listen to me, Cole, this won’t get easier, but you will get stronger. You’ve been hurt.”

“Being strong has nothing to do with this,” I argued. “Madi deserves more. That’s the bottom line.”

Tate threw up his hands in frustration. “I see we have gotten nowhere.”

“No. She saw you for who you are, Cole.”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t know what she saw, but it wasn’t me.”

“She saw you, the real you. I see you. Tate sees you. Quinn sees you. This whole damn town sees you. You lost sight of yourself. That’s your problem.”

“She’s right. What Sherry did messed you up. Hell, it would shake anyone’s confidence. Give yourself a break for once in your life.”

“I’ve become a fuckup since Sherry left. Fighting in public, getting into stupid accidents.” I gestured to my injured arm. “I should have never started anything with Madi, at least not until I was better. I’m a mess, and she deserves the world, not some small-town, divorced single fool who resorts to picking bar fights to get his anger out.”

“There it is!” Gigi clapped her hands together. “None of that is you. Do you think anyone thinks badly of you for knocking Todd’s stupid ass out?”

My mouth dropped open. I had no answer for that.

“He deserved it,” Quinn chimed in. “In fact, he deserved way more, and so did Sherry. I mean, it’s good you didn’t knock her out. That’s not what I was getting at. But you’ve been far too kind to those two, considering the level of betrayal they perpetrated on you.”

“But I hit someone, Quinn. I resorted to violence. I tell my kids not to get into fights. That makes me a hypocrite⁠—”

Tate stopped me. “No one in Bookers that night judged you; I can promise you that. Before you got there to meet us at the Fire Brigade table, the whispers going around were about how they should be the ones to leave, not you. I tried telling you that⁠—”

Gigi held up a hand. “You’re not a hypocrite, honey. You’re supposed to tell your kids not to solve their problems with their fists; it has to be in the proverbial parenting rule book somewhere, right? But sometimes you just have to lay an asshole out, Cole. Hit first and ask questions later. It’s the only way. Todd had it coming.” The words were matter-of-fact and spoken with her usual sweet voice. It was shocking coming from someone I’d always seen as a proper grandmother, an authority figure.

“Are you saying—? Do you think I’m being too hard on myself?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tate burst out. “Yes!”

“Yes, honey, that’s exactly what I’m saying. You’ve been through a lot, none of which was your fault. And you’ve always been too hard on yourself since you were a little boy. You’ve handled all of this better than most people would. Please, give yourself some credit.”

I felt absolved. I’d been carrying around the humiliating shame of my actions for so long that I’d let what happened define me.

“Prove to Madi that she wasn’t wrong about you,” she continued. “You deserve to be loved, and my granddaughter deserves the best. And in case you’re not hearing me and your brothers. The best is you. You are perfect for each other.”

“But I…but she…I think I broke things off with her. I don’t exactly remember all that I said, to be honest.”

“You have some work to do, bro,” Quinn muttered.

I flicked my wrist to check the time. “It’s late.”

“That it is,” Gigi confirmed. “She’ll be back in Colorado Springs by now. She packed a bag and took off.”

“I’ll go down there tomorrow.” I decided. “First thing in the morning. I’ll sit outside of her place and wait if I have to. We can talk it out, and I’ll make everything okay again.”

“Tomorrow is the fundraiser,” Quinn reminded me.

“Shit, I can’t miss that. I promised her I’d be in that auction. Plus, we spent all that time planning it. Missing it would let her down. Do you think she’s still coming?”

“I have no idea,” Gigi answered. “But I know she is not one to back out of her responsibilities, so she’ll probably be there.”

“Okay. I have time. It’s not like she will move on in the next twenty-four hours, right? She won’t forget about me.”

I pulled out my phone to send her a text. I didn’t want to upset her by calling. Or maybe I should call her. I had no idea what to do.

COLE: I’m sorry. Can we talk about this?

MADI: …

“She’s not going to answer me.” I shoved the phone back into my pocket. “Not like this. Texting is a weak move. But I don’t want to make things worse by not reaching out.”

“Give her the night to calm down and get her head together,” Gigi said. “Let her be. She’ll read the text when she’s ready; at least she’ll know you tried to get in touch. That counts for a lot, Cole.”

“Okay. You’re right. I’ll get started fixing this tomorrow.”

I glanced over at Tate. He popped an eyebrow. “Send her flowers, at least.”

“And don’t cheap out,” Quinn added. “Get roses. Red ones.”

“Oh no,” Gigi protested with a sly grin. “Get her peonies. Baby pink peonies.”

Tate grinned. “You heard the lady.”

I got the strangest sense of déjà vu when the word peonies came out of her mouth.

Years ago, my mother used to grow peonies in the backyard. Maybe that was why.

“Peonies it is. I’m going to get her back. I can’t believe I let her go in the first place.”

“I have all the faith in the world in you, Cole.” Gigi smiled.