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“Mmm, that smells good.”
The coffee must’ve gotten to her too.
“Come on. Let’s get some before it’s all gone,” I say, already climbing out of bed. I feel fantastic, having slept better than I have in ages and later than I have in years.
I pull a T-shirt from my closet and dig in the dresser for a pair of shorts and toss them on the bed. Well, I mean to toss them on the bed, but they end up right in Willow’s face and she glares.
I shoot her the smile that usually gets me out of trouble, and she sighs, but she moves to get up. She’s slow rolling until she hears the voices.
“Who’s here?” she whispers, her eyes wide in horror.
Holding my hands out like she’s a skittish colt, I assure her, “Just Brody, probably. Maybe Brutal. They’ve already started the day.” I glance at the clock on the nightstand. “A couple of hours ago. They’re probably eating breakfast. Come on.”
I’m not hiding her, not in the slightest. And I’m certainly not embarrassed about having her here. Hell, I want to strut through town with my shirt off to show what she did to my back. Maybe tattoo her name on my chest just so it’s clear who my heart belongs to.
She gives me a tiny, uncertain hint of a smile, the terror abating bit by bit.
Downstairs, we walk into the kitchen to find Brody and Cooper eating oatmeal and drinking coffee. Well, Brody’s drinking coffee. Cooper is drinking ‘kid coffee’, hot chocolate with the teensy-tiniest splash of coffee. Brutal says it’ll get him adjusted to real coffee when he’s older. I think it makes the kid bouncier and more talkative than he already is, but nobody asked me.
Willow freezes at my side and I squeeze her hand. “Morning,” I offer the guys. Cooper’s basically one of us these days, except he’s a lot smarter than any of us were at his age.
Cooper grins widely, likely knowing too much about what Willow’s presence here this morning means. Brody grunts, his version of ‘good morning.’
Willow waves with two fingers.
I pull out a chair for her and move to grab two mugs, filling them nearly to the brim. She must need it because she nearly dives in when I set the mug on the table and take the chair next to her.
“What’s up today?” I ask. Nonchalantly, because this is our new normal, folks.
“Work.” Brody’s all talk, as usual.
“I’m going into town with Mom later, but she sent me over here for breakfast with Uncle Brody so her and Dad could talk.” Cooper wiggles his eyebrows and looks at me pointedly.
Oh, shit.
Brutal and Allyson have done that before, sent the kid over so they could have a few minutes alone. Hence, the previous tease about not watching the kid and leaving them to eight-minute quickies, twenty if they’re lucky. Seems smarty pants Cooper has figured out what’s up with that. I’ll have to let Brutal and Allyson know because that’s not a conversation I’m touching, not even with a ten-foot pole and an After-School Special video.
“Yeah, grown-ups do have a lot to talk about sometimes, don’t they?”
Willow chokes on her coffee, sputtering. I pat her on the back, smirking. “Something you want to talk about, sweetheart?”
She swipes at her mouth with the back of her hand. “No, no. No. I was just thinking I should probably get going. I have to work today too.”
I stand and she does too. To Brody, I say, “Tell Brutal I’m taking Willow home, ’kay?”
He grunts, which I take as agreement. On the way out, I ruffle Cooper’s hair to remind myself that he’s still just a kid, no matter how old he sometimes seems. He whines, smooshing it flat again with both palms. “Uncle Bobby, you suck cow balls!”
I can’t help but laugh at that, though I wonder who taught him that particular phrase. Whoever it was will have hell to pay when Allyson hears it, but I won’t sell the kid out. Not even to his mom or Brutal.
Willow is quiet the whole way back to town. I’m scared she’s freaking out about us and want to address any concerns head-on, so I reach across the console and take her hand. “You okay?”
She turns those mood-ring eyes on me, swirling and stormy. “Yeah, just thinking about Unc.”
Relief washes through me. Not that she’s worried—I hate that—but that it’s not about us. And that it’s something I can help with. “Want me to go into the bar with you today? We can face the firing squad together.” I would take a bullet for her. More importantly, and definitely more dangerous, I’d stand between Hank and her to take all his anger and hurt onto my back to save hers.
She shakes her head. “That means a lot. Thank you, but I’ve got this. You’re coming in for dinner tonight, right?”
