Chapter 17 Supper #2
Speaking of animal therapy—I still need to do some digging before I bring up the idea to Billie.
I’m thinking about her again.
I can’t quit. I’m not sure if I want to anymore.
I sip my wine and glance around the table. There are some glassy eyes, even some tears. But everyone looks happy. Even Junie and Ella are smiling, kicking their little legs underneath the table as John B passes a fresh bottle of wine around.
“Kinda crazy to think that this time last year, there were half as many people around the table.” I trace its edge with my finger.
Cash glances at Mollie. “It all started with this troublemaker.”
My chest twists. I have my own troublemaker now, don’t I? Only, Billie’s not mine. Not yet anyway.
How the hell would I make that happen without losing Colt or losing the trust of her parents?
How do I proceed with caution while also allowing myself to go all in? Because that’s what she deserves. A guy who jumps in with both feet. Not because he has to, but because he has no choice.
He’s so obsessed with her he wants nothing more.
“Your lives were turned upside down in the blink of an eye when you lost your parents.” John B sits back in his chair.
“Maybe fate is finally delivering on the other side of that—the good to the bad. Life happens fast, no matter which way it moves. I’m happy for y’all that it’s moving in the right direction. ”
Sally dabs at her eye with her napkin. “That’s sweet, Dad. Thank you.”
“It’s a bummer, though.” My voice is thick. “That Mom and Dad aren’t at the table too. They’d—Jesus.” I’m breaking down.
Cash gets up from his chair and pulls me up too.
Pulls me into a hug.
“They’re here,” he murmurs. “In their own way, they see all the good shit that’s happening. Time for your good shit to happen, yeah?”
I hear Wheeler sniffling. “God, what is it about bro hugs that gets me every time?”
“Hoes love their bros,” Wyatt says.
“Swear jar,” Mollie says. “Wheeler is definitely a ho, though.”
“I am. How do you think I got pregnant?”
We’re all laughing again. Laughing and crying and holding up our glasses to toast to Mom and Dad, and all the moms and dads at the table too.
Ella asks why we’re talking about Santa. It takes us a minute, but then we figure out the ho ho ho thing. Then we’re talking about our Christmases growing up and how, without fail, some kind of stomach bug or flu would hit our house Christmas Day.
Wheeler has to make a mad dash for the bathroom when she laughs too hard at the story of Duke puking eggnog all over Dad. Wyatt asks if anyone knows the recipes Mom used to make all her holiday cookies, and Duke says he’ll look through her cookbooks, which he keeps in his cabin.
Funny, but by opening up about my folks, I’ve helped our whole family honor Mom and Dad in new ways while carrying on new versions of family traditions too.
Ella and June tell us what they want for Christmas this year—two unicorns and fake nails with gemstones on them, naturally—and then we devour the strawberry pie Sawyer and Mollie made earlier.
Patsy adds a healthy scoop of hand-churned vanilla bean ice cream to each of our plates.
“Just because I can,” she says with a smile.
By the time I’m heading out the door, I feel wrung out and so full that I feel like I’m the one bursting.
Duke intercepts me as I’m walking to my truck in the driveway. Wheeler went home a little earlier to put up her feet, so he’s alone.
“So.” He slips his hands inside the pockets of his jacket and falls into step beside me. “How long you been sleepin’ with Billie?”
My heart ricochets off my ribcage like a pinball. “What?”
“You forget I know you better’n anyone. And I know you’ve changed in large part because of Billie Wallace. I also know you wouldn’t be able to spend so much time with her without, well, spending some time between the sheets with her too.”
Sheets weren’t involved.
I’d like them to be, though.
“Because she’s excellent, and you’re excellent, and y’all bring out the best in each other,” Duke continues. “She’s had the hots for you forever. I knew it was only a matter of time before you fell too.”
“I didn’t—Christ, Duke. I cry once, and all of a sudden, you feel like you can just say whatever the hell you want to me?”
The bastard grins. “Yup. So how was it?”
“The sex? I’m not talking to you about—”
“The conversation. The connection. Obviously that’s what I’m talking about.”
I grunt.
“So you did have sex.” He lets out a holler. “I was right! Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. But talk about shit getting messy.”
My boots catch on the gravel as I come to a stop. Closing my eyes, I tip back my head. “I’m serious, Duke. No one can know.”
“How do you think Colt will react when you ask him if you can date her?”
“We’re not dating.”
“Bullshit.”
I scoff, something unpleasant rising up inside my chest. “I told you—”
“Bet Billie would have some thoughts on whether or not you treat her right.” He nods at the phone in my hand. “Hell, I bet she’s texted you about them often this weekend, hasn’t she? Thoughts like, Wow, that was great, and, You’re great, and, I really like you and think you should be my boyfriend—”
“That’s not what she texted.”
“But she has been texting.”
Heat crawls up my neck.
As a matter of fact, Billie and I have been texting a little all weekend. Not a lot. But more than we typically would.
I’m trying to keep boundaries in place. But it was the polite thing to do, right, to check in on her? And that text turned into a dozen, and then a dozen more today, and I only ended the conversation an hour later when I had to head to the kitchen.
We didn’t talk about anything, really. She said she was fine, that her arm was okay, and that she was tired but not hungover. She asked me how I was.
I didn’t get into too much detail. But not gonna lie, felt nice knowing that she was thinking of me.
And now I’m thinking of her. Again. I’ve thought a lot about just showing up at her place. I’ve thought even more about asking her to come over to mine.
Would that be the right move? The wrong one? I don’t know.
All I know is, she’s helped me change how I’m living my life so I can thrive.
How great would life be if we could thrive together?
I really have to float that animal therapy idea—bet she’d be into it.
At the very least, it might be a jumping-off point.
She can’t be chained to that desk for the rest of her life, or she’s gonna shrivel up and die.
Not on my watch.
“You know, tonight was the first time you’ve talked openly about Mom and Dad in a while. Really, ever.” Duke’s voice is quiet. Kind. “I feel like I’m finally getting my brother back.”
I blink. “What? I didn’t go anywhere.”
“But you did. The real you disappeared for a while. I knew it was part of your process, so I never wanted to push you. We all gotta grieve in our own way.” He takes a breath. Lets it out. “Billie, though—she pushed you just when you needed it, huh?”
Goddamn you.
“She don’t take no for an answer, that’s for sure,” I manage around the tightness in my throat.
He puts a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t need to tell you that you’d be an idiot to let a girl like that slip through your fingers, right? Because only idiots and bull riders would make that mistake.”
“Bull riders are idiots.”
Duke meets my eyes. “Don’t be like them, then.”
“Not all of us move fast, you know.” I swallow hard. “I think I need a little time.”
“Perfect! Because you know what takes time? Dating someone. Getting to know them. Figuring out how y’all are going to fit into each other’s lives.”
I roll my eyes. “We get it. You’re obsessed with Wheeler, and you want her to have your babies. Which is why she is having your babies.”
“Pretty sweet, ain’t it?” His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “You could be next.”
“I don’t know if I even want kids.”
Duke shrugs. “Then go figure it out. Life’s out here, waitin’ for you to stop playing it safe.”
I know.
God, do I know.
Just wish my heart would get the memo.