Climbing the Ladder by BA Tortuga Page B

have to worry about anything else?”
    “I…” She didn’t know. “That sounded very much like Kody.”
    Mesa squeezed her hand again. “Good.”
    “What’s your favorite food?” Her fingers moved over Mesa’s wrist, touching lightly. His
    heartbeat was strong, steady. Fascinating.
    “I love nachos. The kind with steak and lots of yellow cheese.”
    She chuckled. “Oh, you’d love the Mexican food in LA. There are amazing places to eat.
    What’s your favorite part? Sour cream and salsa?” Kody loved the guacamole best; he’d spent
    hours perfecting his own recipe and testing it out on her.
    “Yes. I love the chips, too, though.”
    “Boys and the salty.”
    Mesa’s laughter moved Kody against her. “Kody says you like sweet best. Chocolate or
    fruit?”
    “Chocolate.” Absolutely.
    “That’s bad for dogs.”
    She cracked up. “Kody’s always telling me that! He made tons of other desserts to tempt
    me—pies and puddings and crème brulee. None of them were chocolate. Although the
    cheesecake thing, yum.” This was making her hungry.
    “Mmm. I like that, too. With Irish cream.”
    Her stomach growled, and she blushed. “Irish cream? You’re not a beer man?”
    “Nope. I like sweet, too, I admit.”
    “Me too. I love the girly drinks, but that’s not in style right now.” Now it was cigar bars
    and scotch.
    “Yeah? What’s your favorite? Does Kody still like coffee liqueur?”
    “Strawberry margaritas, and I’ve never seen Kody drink liquor, ever. I sort of thought
    maybe he had an addiction problem.”
    One of Mesa’s eyebrows went up. “Yeah? Why is that?”
    She shrugged. “I guess because he didn’t drink at all. Smoke. Gamble. Nothing.”
    “Ah. No, I bet it’s because it impairs his senses.”
    Sometimes she thought it would be better to have impaired senses in LA. Everything
    there was overwhelming, heavy, hard or bright.
    “Are you going to take him away?” It was a fair question, right? She’d tried to walk off
    and let them be. It would be cruel to do this and leave her somewhere on the road.
    “From you? No.” Mesa stroked her skin, back and forth. “From California? Yeah.”
    “I live in California.” The touch was easy, good, and she couldn’t tense.
    “You have lived there.”
    She just didn’t understand how he could be so calm. “Yeah, and I had a job there. A
    house. I can’t believe I just walked away from it all. What was I thinking? In this economy? Just walking away?”
    A hint of panic hit her, square in the belly.
    Kody frowned, fingers searching for her.
    “Shh.” This time it was Mesa comforting Kody.
    “Mates.” Kody relaxed, smiling gently.
    “He’s happy with you.” It hurt to admit, but it was true.
    “He loves you.” Mesa sighed. “You have to understand, honey. He needs us both.”
    “I’m trying to, really. I mean, I’m trying not to be a harpy.” She didn’t want to be a bitch.
    “I know.” He poked her wrist. “I know that.”
    She leaned up onto one elbow, looked over at Mesa. “So, what are you suggesting,
    honestly?”
    “That we’re mates. The three of us.” Mesa sat up, one hand on Kody’s back.
    “But… that’s not legal.”
    “Uh-huh. Where we’re going it doesn’t matter.” Mesa winked, the expression
    unexpectedly charming, boyish. “And no, it’s not Utah.”
    “I have to figure out what I’m doing with my life. Get a job. Sell the house. Apologize to
    Becky for yelling at her.” God, his eyes fascinated her, his sounds, and she caught herself leaning toward him. He rewarded her with a touch, the hand not on Kody coming up to her arm.
    “Oh.” The word just breathed out of her.
    “Mmm.” Mesa smiled. “You’re warm.”
    “I can’t think when you two touch me. I thought it was just Kody.”
    “Has he always had that effect on you?”
    “Yes.” She actually laughed, happiness bubbling up inside her. “He read my palm at a
    faire. Literally grabbed my hand while I was shopping for a