“I’m unsure about going to dinner with Owen. I keep wondering what Jon would think.”
Rowan leaned her behind against the table’s top and regarded the older woman, who had turned around to regard Rowan in turn. “First, I’d like to point out that the goal is toenjoy good company. Owen is certainly that. We both know if he wasn’t, his sister would have locked him away years ago in an asylum for the perpetually dull.” Matilda snorted in amusement at Rowan’s assessment of her best friend.
“Second, I’d like to remind you that my grandmother just got married. You both were lucky to have known what being truly in love feels like. Is it any wonder you might want something like that again? Nan was afraid too, you know. She thought of it like…like cheating, I guess. Except how is it cheating when the love that your husband bestowed upon you and that you bestowed on him is still honored? It isn’t lessened or forgotten.
“It’s a cherished memory. Always cherished. From what William has said, his father is extraordinarily nervous too. He loved his wife like you loved your husband. If you want my opinion, Owen might be seeking the same thing you are.”
“And what is that?” Matilda asked, taking a seat at the table.
“A friend. A companion to do fun things like charity dinners. To have a plus one that you enjoy talking the night away with.”
“Oh. Oh, I…yes, I think…that is right. I would like that.” Matilda sighed, like a ton of tension was lifted from her shoulders.
“Will had planned for the four of us to drive separately, but why don’t I text him that we would prefer to go together? I know he wouldn’t mind, and I certainly wouldn’t.” Rowan wasn’t lying either. Now that Hugh was in town, her budding romance with William seemed to be slipping through her fingers.
“I would prefer that, at least this first time, if you truly don’t mind,” Matilda admitted.
“I’ll text him now.” Honestly, it was a relief to have less alone time with Will until she sorted through her feelings for Hugh. Feelings that she could not, for her life, shake.
“What will you do about my son? And before you get mad at me for not telling you he was coming, the family decided to stay out of your business.”
Rowan paused in her texting to briefly squeeze her eyes closed. She may not be willing to show her anger to Matilda, but by God, her sisters would be hearing from her in the morning.
Rowan finished sending the text before answering. “What is there really to do about Hugh? He’s here. He has every right to be here. We have never dated. We aren’t currently dating. He’s simply doing what he’s always done.”
“Which is what?” Hugh’s mother asked.
“Circle me like a wolf. Mark his territory even though he never claims me. The normal. He doesn’t want me, Matilda, but your son doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.” Rowan groaned in impatience. “It’s frustrating.”
“I’m sure it is, and you’ve done amazing at moving on despite his confusing behavior. I will preface what I’m about to impart by letting you know that I think Will is a wonderful man, and I believe his intentions toward you could not be more honest—but—yes, I know, there is always a but.” She smiled, holding up her hand to stop Rowan from interrupting. “Hugh has had a bit of an epiphany. I will not break his trust, but…oh goodness,” Matilda patted her eyes with a bit of leftover silk fabric folded on the table, “I would ask that you at least, at some point, let him explain himself.”
Rowan looked at the painting she’d done of a smiling Hugh with his father. He used to know how to smile. “The only thing I can promise is that I’ll think about it.”
“So,I guess we’re keeping secrets from one another now?” Rowan asked Raven and River, completely furious with both ofthem for not telling her about Hugh. She was still in bed, having barely slept last night.
“I’m sorry, Row,” Raven spoke in a quiet voice.
“If it makes you less mad at us, Bran and Patrick agreed, and they didn’t tell Hugh you were in Oklahoma,” River said, ratting out her and Raven’s husbands.
Rowan heard a “Hey!” and a “What the hell, Riv?”
“River’s always been the biggest tattler,” Raven sighed, probably trying to get Rowan to laugh and lighten the tension.
It didn’t work, which was a shame since Rowan hated being at odds with her sisters. She’d thrown herself into finishing the armoire last night, knowing she couldn’t talk to her sisters until this morning because of the time. She only managed to sleep a handful of hours, thinking about what she was going to say to her sisters, but mostly about Hugh, damn him.
Her face burned when she pictured him opening her nightstand drawer. There were only two things to discover, neither of which she wanted him to find. A vibrator and a sketchbook.
A sketchbook of Hugh. She’d spent a year filling an entire book of the man. Every mood, every scowl. Part of the book was innocent. Family moments. When he looked at his sons with pride and love. Sitting at the bar, whiskey in hand. When he sat apart, loneliness dimming his eyes. When he held his grandson in his arms.
The second part…weren’tfamily moments. His body, its strength and power. Muscles rippling. Erect and virile. Rowan had drawn the shower scene from memory, fist gripping his length. Hugh standing over her lying in bed. His face when he came. Some were pure fantasy. She’d taken to sketching her hottest dreams the moment she woke, sweating and trembling with need.
Hugh had embedded himself in her body. Her mind kept trying to picture a different path, a different ending to her story, but every damn day, her imagination placed Hugh in every scenario, dream, want, or need. William Stanton was the first man that came close to changing her story.
When Rowan didn’t respond to her family’s antics, silence stretched uncomfortably. She could imagine her sisters giving each other panicked looks. She broke the silence by repeating her question.
“Arewe keeping secrets? I’m not talking about small things. You both knew this wasn’t a small thing to me.” Rowan felt tears prick her eyes. Hugh was the opposite of a small thing. To her. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t at fault, that he’d never broken promises, but he was the instrument in which all of her hopes and dreams had been erased. Picking up the pieces and trying to put them in a different order was painful. Raven and River knew how painful it had been.
“Let me take Daniel, babe,” Rowan heard Bran say.
