The Promises We Were Never Meant To Keep
Page 95
We hold her services on retainer, of course.
Willow slides those cartoon blue eyes to me. They’re the reason people underestimate her.
I know better.
“You did leave the man and marry his brother,” Willow’s words cut into me.
I do my best not to flinch. “I know. It just sucks. There’s nothing I can do or say to make it better.”
“Do you care to make it better?” Willow asks pointedly. She doesn’t filter for anyone. She says what she means and means what she says.
See what I mean? Shark.
Always going for blood.
“I’ve always cared.”
“Oh, honey.” Shy covers my hand with hers. I don’t have to look at her to know she’s slicing a glare into Willow. “You can’t change the past. There’s really no point in trying.”
“You could explain it to him, though,” Quinn interjects. “Tell him why you chose Tate.”
“I didn’t choose Tate!” I exclaim. “Why does everyone say it like that?”
“Because that’s how it is, sweetie.” Willow leans forward. “Isn’t it?”
“I chose Rubble Ridge. I—” I drop my face into my hands. “I chose Holt. I chose his dreams for him. I took myself from the picture so that he would have everything he ever wanted.” When I lift my head again, I find four sets of eyes on me. “Tate chose me and—and I didn’t mean to, but I fell in love with him.”
There’s a big, heavy pause that feels like it’ll crush me before Andy cuts in again. “Enough with the sad shit. I’m not here for that. Someone tell me the man is as hot in person as he is on TV?”
The pause that follows is shocked, then Quinn purrs, “He’s hotter.”
Willow doesn’t look jealous in the least. One, she’s too confident. Two, Quinn does not swing in Holt’s direction. Ever. But she can and does appreciate beauty where she sees it.
Shy nods a little guiltily. “I saw him walking into Wilder Builds the other day.” She fans her face. “He’s way hotter.” She winces. “Sorry, honey.”
“It’s fine.” I harrumph. “It’s true.”
Andy laughs as Andy is prone to do. “Babe, you get to look at the man all day for the next five months. What do you have to be all twisted up about?”
“Only the fact he hates my guts.”
“I think he still wants you,” Quinn says matter of fact. “And that’s what he truly hates.”
“I can assure you that is not the case.”
Quinn shrugs, like she knows something I don’t know. “I guess we’ll just wait and see.”
“Enough about the past. Owen’s spending the night at Colton’s, and Mabel is having a sleepover with Memaw.” I finish the last of my wine and wave down the waitress. “I’m kid free for a whole night and I’m making the most of it.”
Willow sips at her wine. “If you were making the most of it, you’d be reeling in a nice big dick right about now. As you’re doing no such thing…”
I snap my eyes to Andy. “You don’t need to sleep on their lumpy couch. I have a bed plenty big enough for two.”
Of course, Andy knows this. She stayed in it with me while I sobbed my heart out the week after Tate’s death. I’m not sure I didn’t scar her. She hasn’t slept over since.
“Our couch isn’t lumpy.” Willow sniffs. “It’s couture.”
“It’s fuckin’ brutal.” Andy shoots back the rest of her wine, missing—or just flat-out ignoring Willow’s narrowed glare. “But I agree with Willow, babe. You’re seriously in need of some dick. It doesn’t have to be forever dick. Just dick.”