Whit
The half-dead front lawn crunches under my feet, and when I step into the street, the toe of my sneaker leaves an indent in the black sealer filling fractures in the asphalt. Under normal temperatures, this stuff is rock hard.
Great. It’s so hot hell is trying to open up via the cracks in my road.
My hair’s still damp from my shower, but by the time I get to my parents’ house, it’ll likely be dampened with sweat instead. Autumn can’t come soon enough, if you ask me. I’m ready to squeeze into black skinny jeans and cozy up in oversized hoodies again.
I scurry down the street and across the empty field, clutching my iced coffee to my chest and taking frantic slurps to cool myself down.
Regular walks with my mom and sister were brought to an abrupt halt this week when Blair went and broke her ankle falling off a horse.
Given this sudden, unbearable heat wave, I’m secretly glad she’s laid up.
When I finally reach the front door, I fling it open and throw myself into the air-conditioned space. The sheen of sweat on my skin drops in temperature, and a shiver racks my body. The air’s filled with the sharp aroma of freshly brewed coffee, which my body instinctively moves toward.
“Somebody looks thrilled to start the day,” Blair sarcastically says from the couch, eyeing me up as she adjusts the positioning of her injured leg on a stack of pillows.
I’m sure I look a wreck with my frizzy hair and sweaty, flushed face.
“And you look a little too happy for somebody who broke her ankle a few days ago.” I walk over to Mom’s armchair and give her a hug while keeping a raised eyebrow locked on my sister.
Dad’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, so he’s likely at his hardware store. Meaning his comfy recliner is up for grabs. I sink into it.
Denny leans on the kitchen counter and replies, “It’s all the drugs.”
Blair sticks her tongue out at him.
I don’t know…. I think he has a lot more to do with it than the heavy painkillers.
He hasn’t left her side since she broke her ankle.
A level of commitment and tender care I only see in the books I read.
My heart pangs at the sight of them making googly eyes at each other, so clearly in love despite years spent apart.
Even if I meet a man who looks at me the way Denny’s currently looking at my sister, he won’t stick around once he realizes I’m damaged goods.
Of course, I wouldn’t trade my son for the entire world.
By and large, I’ve come to terms with Jonas being my only child.
In the last year, he’s definitely made up for the lack of siblings by creating the chaos of three or more kids.
Yet there’s always been a small part of me that wishes I’d done things the “right” way.
Meet an amazing man who looks at me like I hung the moon, fall deeply in love, get married, have a baby.
If some higher power decided I’m destined to have only one kid, it would’ve been nice to have that happen with somebody I love.
And though I don’t date, I nurture a delicate hope that one day I’ll find someone.
Colt’s captivating gaze, gentle touch, and the way he calls me mama makes my heart—and other body parts—flutter, but I know better than to give in to that. Jonas and I can’t handle heartbreak. Especially not in the state we’re currently in.
Blair turns her attention back to me. “Anyway, what’s up your butt this morning?”
“Nothing, except that it’s too early to be over here. Jonas comes by his general hatred for mornings honestly.”
“Where’s Jonas?” Mom asks.
Though it couldn’t have been more than a year ago, it feels like centuries have passed since Jonas was eager to hang out with his grandparents.
He used to sit in the garage while Dad tinkered with things, handing him wrenches and talking his ear off.
Or we’d all sit outside watching Jonas teach himself to do wheelies and ride without holding the handlebars.
“I think he’s still recovering from that random sickness he had the other day. Plus, he’s always so tired from his days at the ranch, I let him sleep in on therapy day.”
Blair scowls over at Denny. “You’re really working that kid to the bone, aren’t ya?”
“Not me!” Denny hands her a coffee, then throws his hands in the air. “That’s all Colt.”
“It’s all good,” I say. “Colt’s been so good to Jonas, especially with Alex basically dropping off the face of the Earth again.”
Blair’s sideways glance as she takes a long, slow sip of coffee speaks louder than words.
“It’s no surprise. I really think that week he picked Jonas up from therapy only happened because I mentioned Colt and it made him jealous.”
“Jealous of Colt?” Denny laughs. “Has Alex met Colt?”
The fuck does that mean?
My eyebrows bunch together so tight, the muscles begin to twitch. I sit up a little taller, hearing nothing but blood rushing past my eardrums.
I unclench my jaw enough to reply, “He should be jealous. Colt actually has a relationship with Jonas. That’s a hell of a lot more than Alex can say.”
The tension in the air is so thick, Mom could cut it with a butter knife despite her frail state. Blair’s staring me down—pupils so much wider than normal it feels as if she’s boring into my soul. She knows.
Mom quietly clears her throat. “Where’s Jonas, honey?”
“He’s at home sleeping, Mom.” I hook a thumb in the direction of the front door. “He’s been working so hard on the ranch, the poor kid is pooped out.”
Everything about her nod says she understands. The vacant expression softening her features indicates otherwise.
“He’s been doing a good job out there,” Denny says. “I wasn’t too sure at the beginning of the summer, but he’s pulling his weight now.”
I do my best to look a little surprised by this information, as if Colt doesn’t fill me in every time he drops Jonas off.
“So, little sis. What do you want for your birthday?” Blair smiles over at me.
“Wine. Preferably a tanker truck full.”
She shakes her head with a breathy laugh. “I don’t know if we can get a tanker truck full, but a bottle or two is doable. Also, we should go out tomorrow night.”
“Not happening.”
“Come on. You’re turning thirty. That’s a big deal, Whit. Plus, this is the first time I’ve been around for your birthday since before you could legally drink. Oh, let’s go to The Horseshoe.”
“That’s your pain meds talking.” I quirk a brow. “I have literally never been there, nor do I ever intend on going. Drinking and socializing with all the locals I hate sounds like my personal hell.”
Providing fodder for the town gossips? No, thanks. They’ll probably make up some bullshit rumor that I left my kid home alone so I could go out drinking, furthering the narrative that I’m a shitty mom.
“Okay, then we’ll go to Sheridan.” Blair sits up straighter, knocking her bowl of chips on the ground in her excited state. “You probably won’t know anybody there. Jonas can stay here with Dad for the night. It’ll be perfect.”
I glance at Denny, who gives me an enthusiastic thumbs-up in response. “If anybody you don’t want to talk to bothers you at the bar, we’ll whack ’em with Blair’s cast. That thing hurts when it hits you in the shin—ask me how I know.”
Blair grabs his hand and squeezes. “We can ask Red and Cass if they want to come. And whoever you want to invite…”
She trails off like she’s expecting me to have a list of invitees, despite knowing I have exactly zero friends. Most of my friends quit hanging out with me when they realized how much having a kid at nineteen cramped my style.
“I’m sure some of the ranch hands will come,” Denny says. “Colt, for sure. He’s always down for a night out.”
Something simmers low in my core at the mention of Colt. At the possibility of hanging out with him in a kid-free environment.
“You really think we won’t see anybody we know there?” I ask hesitantly.
Denny purses his lips and shakes his head. “Nah. Most people aren’t driving an hour to go to the bar when there’s one in Wells Canyon that’s within stumbling distance of their houses.”
I gnaw at my cheek, debating. Except I’m not debating. I was sold on the idea the moment Denny mentioned Colt’s name.
Blair bats her eyes at me. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay. Fine.” I roll my eyes to really sell it. “I guess I’ll go.”