7. Bodhi
7
BODHI
MONTANA: Fire tonight
JENSEN: The girls have book club so I’ll have Remi
BODHI: Dibs
MASON: You don’t always get to be the favorite uncle
BODHI: Yes I do
MONTANA: He really does
MONTANA: Even the goats like him
ARCHER: Dude stop acting like you don’t like the goats
MONTANA: One of the little fuckers chased me half across the yard today
JENSEN: They can smell your fear
MONTANA: That’s not a real thing, right?
ARCHER: I’ve still got the camping chairs
BODHI: I got a box of stuff from the Poppy Seed
MONTANA: Guys – the fear thing isn’t real right?
JENSEN: I’ll bring the baby and the beer
MONTANA: RIGHT??
S nickering, I pocket my phone, thankful for the reprieve after talking with Rhea today. I need the fire, and reluctantly, I can admit I need their company tonight too.
We’d been unofficially dubbed the Bachelors of Blackstone Falls , an absurd label that had fallen away as each of them had paired off, leaving me as the last man standing.
I don’t need a wife or girlfriend, but I can admit it’s been lonely these last few months with Mason moving in with Lana and her kids.
I’ve never had friends so that isn’t the problem.
But Mason has been as much of a lifeline for me as I’ve been for him, and I can’t deny the way my chest aches knowing that it will never be just us .
And it shouldn’t.
That’s life and he’s found a woman—a family—that loves him as much as he loves them. It’s everything he’s ever wanted and all the things he deserves.
And I’m so damn happy for him I can barely breathe.
Doesn’t mean I don’t feel the loss though.
Loss.
An old friend that creeps in to remind you that you’ll never break free of the cycle—people die or they leave, and you’re just there picking up the pieces, not quite as whole as you were before they left.
It’s a cruel reminder but I’m thankful for it now. I may never know the kind of happiness the guys have found and that’s okay.
It’s not for everyone.
It may never be for me.
* * *
“You’re really taking Holland to the cemetery?” Mason asks as he drops into the seat next to me and hands me an opened beer as I cradle Remi against my chest, her lips puckered as she sleeps.
Jensen and Archer are talking about Jensen’s schedule meshing with his fiancée, Nessa’s, since she took the head coaching position for the women’s soccer team at Blackstone University after retiring last season from the Tennessee Tornadoes, while Montana tries to figure out which pastry to grab even though he’s already had two.
“Lana said it was fine,” I tell him as I try not to roll my eyes. His girlfriend called me not long after the group message had gone silent to ask my plans for the weekend. “Besides, how many times have you gone with me? She wants to come, and Lana said it’s okay so I wasn’t gonna argue.”
Any of the fight left in him dissipates and is replaced by a knowing grin because if there’s anything true in this world, it’s that I will let Holland get away with anything . She’s nine going on fourteen and has me wrapped around her little finger.
Doesn’t hurt that Lana already gave her stamp of approval.
“Lana’s still pissed you can do that braid wrap thing. She’s been trying nonstop and all she gets is it’s not like Uncle Bodhi does it.” He snickers and I want to feel bad because Lana is amazing and great for my brother, but it feels good to be needed even if it’s just something small like this.
I’d spent hours learning how to braid Audrey’s hair, always just trying to impress her with new twists and styles. I’d kept up with it when she’d gone missing, part of me wanting to be able to show her what I’d learned when she came back and the other knowing she never would but that she’d want me to do it for the other girls that came through the home.
“I offered to teach her.”
“She thinks it’s a competition.”
“Yeah, well, she took my brother; the least she can do is let me style her daughter’s hair.”
I didn’t mean to say the words. Thinking about Audrey always does this to me…makes me say things I shouldn’t. Conversation around the fire dies off as Mason lowers his bottle into his lap and stares at me.
“Dude, I?—”
“Stop. That’s not what I meant.” I hit him with a hard stare. “No way in hell I’d let you move back in anyway.” The last part is in jest but it misses the mark. Again.
“But—”
“No. Look, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’ve talked about this. You’re happy; that’s all that matters.”
But what about you?
I can feel everyone around the fire asking the same question even though no one’s uttered a sound, but for fuck’s sake… I don’t want to do this tonight.
I don’t want to do this ever.
Mason shouldn’t feel guilty about being happy and in love.
Why couldn’t I just keep my fucking mouth shut?
This.
This is why I stay on the periphery. Less of a chance to fuck things up when you can just keep things superficial.
“I saw Sorren when I popped into Vetted Paws this morning to ask if they could take some dogs from across the state. Said he’d call in help because you’re not available. Heard you’re goin’ on a road trip.” Jensen smirks, breaking the awkward silence and making him my favorite person at this fire.
Almost.
Dammit, can’t a guy catch a break around here?
“Yeah, I guess. Gotta pick up the counter Rhea ordered.” I peek at Remi’s sleeping face— the only thing not covered by the blanket she’s wrapped in. She’s the only thing keeping me from losing my mind right now.
Maybe I’ll just duck out early and take her home with me, and give Jensen and Nessa a night off. She can get up in the morning and play with the dogs. They’ll all be in heaven.
And it’s not like I sleep anyway.
Not well, at least. Just enough to keep the migraines at bay. I haven’t had one as bad as when Lana and Mason were first dating, when he found me balled up in the fetal position on my bed. I’m not his job to take care of like that anymore, so I had to make some changes, and so far, I’ve been all right.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mason asks, his mouth tipping down at the corners.
“It hasn’t been that long,” I tell him, glaring at Jensen as his smile widens.
“Not goin’ alone, are you?” the sheriff adds, and I make a silent vow to make sure I get Remi all wound up on sugar and treats every time I see her.
“What?” Montana asks, his gaze ping-ponging between us.
“He’s goin’ with Ella.”
“Ella, from the Poppy Seed, Ella?” Montana chirps excitedly. “She’s cool. I don’t go in there much but I can see it.”
“See what?” I ask, wanting to kick myself as soon as the words leave my mouth despite desperately wanting to know the answer.
It’s ridiculous, honestly, but I can’t help the way my pulse kicks up at the thought of her.
“That you two would be good together,” he says like it’s obvious, the statement making me just blink at him like he’s out of his mind.
Because he is.
“I barely know her.”
“And whose fault is that?” Montana adds, my gaze darting to Archer who is trying to look busy rearranging the pastries in the box. As the resident shy and easily flustered friend, it’s not surprising he’s avoiding this conversation at all costs.
Which is honestly ridiculous because he was the first one to land a girlfriend.
I growl, and the sound makes Remi rub her face into my shirt before settling again. I need to get myself under control.
I need to get this conversation under control.
Pointing at each of them with my beer, I say, “Leave it alone. We’re not playing the dating game. I was voluntold to go on this little adventure and that’s it.”
They all exchange glances and I grunt, handing my beer to Mason and grabbing Remi’s carrier from the ground.
“You can get your kid tomorrow,” I hiss over my shoulder at Jensen only to find them all smirking at me.
I don’t need this.
And I definitely don’t need them sticking their noses where they don’t belong.
“Diaper bag is in the truck,” Jensen calls. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with my insanely hot fiancée.”
“She’s gonna be pissed you’re pickin’ her up early from book club,” Montana tells him.
“I’ll take my chances.” Jensen pauses and I can practically hear the giddiness in his tone. “Couple orgasms and she’ll be just fine.”
“Can you believe them, Remi?” I murmur, buckling her into her seat and securing it in the base. “Me either, but it’s fine. We’ll go hang out with the dogs, and in the morning, I’ll make breakfast. How’s that sound?”
She doesn’t answer, still fast asleep, but I know she’ll be excited in the morning. Dog kisses and pancakes—what could be better?