She just rolled her eyes, then clinked her glass with mine and whispered under her breath while Braden and his mom argued about strange men being in her house. “You owe me.”
“Duly noted.” I winked. “Duly noted.”
CHAPTER 4
Bronte
I didn’t sleep that night.
I wasn’t even sure I closed my eyes since my alarm went off at eight. I was still staring up at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to survive Drew living in the guesthouse a few feet from my bedroom door — because in a moment of clarity, Braden had decided to have the quarters built off the side of the master next to the pool.
I gulped and threw the covers over the bed. I could handle this. I was an adult. A mom! I had raised three children, I birthed them, and I’d done that on my own without my ex’s help.
So, having a sexy as hell rockstar with no censor drinking coffee shirtless next to the pool this week?
Fine. I was going to handle it and be totally fine.
I hated how much my own son knew me. Birthday week had always been our week, and a part of my heart had crumbled when Piper said it was the only time they could go.
But it wasn’t about me. It was about them, their new life together. God, the love they had for each other was so tangible I wanted to weep every time I saw them holding hands.
It was beautiful.
And it reminded me that it was something I’d never had with another human. The sort of love that you read about or watched in movies. I’d been a one-night stand to the captain of the football team, and when I’d turned up pregnant from that night, his strict Catholic parents made him marry me.
I hadn’t found that out until the divorce, when he said he’d been forced and that he had never truly loved me.
It had been like a knife to my heart.
And then he’d twisted it even more by naming all the girls he’d slept with who I’d once called friends — all during our marriage when I was alone at night with three kids.
I was sure they’d either laughed behind my back or felt pity every single time we’d all met as a group and done dinners.
I blew out a shaky breath and went into the bathroom to get ready. Drew said he’d bring breakfast while he moved some of his stuff in. I still wasn’t understanding how he was going to help me during a week when I was reminded on a daily basis how alone I’d become.
He was the exact opposite of the sort of person I needed to be relying on. Because — just like my ex — he would leave.
And, just like my ex, I was pretty sure Drew didn’t understand the word celibate, and even if he did, he probably threw salt over his shoulder every time someone uttered it out loud.
I quickly brushed my teeth and lost a losing battle with my makeup. I didn’t want to look as if I’d gotten ready for him, but I also didn’t want him to see the dark circles under my eyes or comment on my many freckles, so I laid on a bit of foundation, some mascara, added some gloss, then put my hair in a quick braid.
My expression stared back at me in the mirror; I looked terrified and pale.
Fantastic.
I pulled on a pair of black leggings and a loose white Nike sweatshirt and was just putting on a pair of running shoes when the doorbell rang.
My heart galloped around in my chest like a stallion as I slowly walked to the door and, with a deep breath, pulled it open and prayed he wasn’t his usual rockstar, impossible-not-to-like self.
Drew had a black Yankees hat on with low slung jeans, which molded to his body and had rips in all the right places, and he was wearing another loose tank, this time gray, that showed his tattoos and, of course, was big enough that if he moved you could see inside.
Nipple piercings.
Because, why not?
I quickly looked away.
“Coffee.” He waltzed right into my kitchen and held out a coffee carrier; there were four medium-sized cups.
I frowned. “Are we having company?”
“Nope, you get me all to yourself today.” He winked. “What was that? Did you just sigh cheerfully and almost swoon?”
I glared then took my coffee. “Why four cups?”
He shrugged. “I’m extra, why else?”
“Now that I believe,” I grumbled, then yawned behind my hand. “Sorry, didn’t sleep well.”
He tilted his head; his blue eyes seemed to stare right through to my soul. “Why don’t you go lie back down? I can manage the few bags I have. It’s not like I’m moving in.”
“Ha!” I nearly choked on my tongue. “No, you aren’t, so don’t get any ideas. I don’t do roommates.”
“Where’s Amelia?” he asked, changing the subject.
I smiled; my daughter was always a safe topic. “She’s sleeping over at a friend’s. She texted last night and is coming back around noon before heading to the beach.”
“You give her a lot of freedom,” he said it in a way that didn’t come across as judgmental, more thoughtful than anything.
I glanced at the other bag in his hand that was starting to smell like sausage and bacon. “What’s that?”
“Ah, this.” He held out the bag. “I went to Pigs in the Blanket and got us breakfast to go. I wasn’t sure what you wanted and figured if I texted you again, you’d probably follow through on that restraining order, so I got you protein and enough carbs to make sure we don’t lose that amazing ass of yours.”
Fire flared across my cheeks. “Thanks?”
“I’m here to help.” He winked and began taking out enough food to feed an army. And just like last night, he set the table as if we were having a date, as if this wasn’t casual, as if he really wanted to sit down
