I chewed on the inside of my cheek. I’d stuff another muffin in my mouth if I hadn’t just choked myself. “Baking’s a touchy subject. Noted.”
“No.” He sighed and ruffled his damp hair. “It was a way to take my mind off Dad being sick and... Anyway. I kept doing it and the girls were born, so I had to keep cooking and baking.”
A way to take his mind off his dad and me. “Why don’t your girls know about us?” I bit the inside of my cheek, but it was pointless. The question was out.
As close as we were, I could see the deeper-blue striations in his irises. He clenched his jaw and looked away. “Why would I talk about my ex with my girls?”
“I get that, Rhys, but come on. I’m not just any ex.” And he’d been divorced for years.
“You want to know why I didn’t brag about dating country music darling June Bee?”
When he said it like that, I sounded arrogant.Country music darling.That was me. My next album was supposed to catapult me all the way to the top. If I could write it. “I just thought since Bethany and Hannah are fans...”
“All girls their age are,” he said flatly. “But my ex isn’t.”
“Gotcha.” His ex probably wasn’t the only reason he’d stayed quiet on the subject of June Bee. I doubt he wanted to talk about me with anyone. Was it the stress of staying behind that had turned him off me so hard? Did he resent me for leaving? Or did he resent me for hanging on when he’d wanted a clean break?
I’d never know, and I’d moved on.
I looked around his kitchen. Somehow I hadn’t moved far.
He strode to my luggage and lifted my bags. “The guest room is down the hallway off the living room. You can bring your water.”
I lifted the glass in a salute. When he disappeared, I refilled the cup. Then I went for my guitar. I sucked in a deep breath and followed Rhys deeper into the house.
Fifteen years after our one night in the cabin, I was sleeping under the same roof as him again. In different beds, in different rooms. Only this time I would go to sleep knowing there wasn’t a future for us.
CHAPTER FOUR
Rhys
My night of sleep had been really fucking fitful. A woman I’d never thought I’d interact with again slept across the hallway. Last night, I’d dropped her bags in the guest room and checked on the girls. By the time I’d retreated to my room, June’s door had been closed.
After years of changing the radio station when the first notes of her songs played, averting my eyes at Copper Summit bourbon billboards plastered with her smiling face, and avoiding anything related to her family’s distillery in case I ran into her, June Kerrigan was right across the hall.
I needed to piss, but this old house didn’t have a bathroom in the main bedroom.
Was she awake?
I hadn’t heard a peep. The girls were sleeping in after their late night. Otherwise, they’d be knocking down my door, excitedtheJune Bee was under their roof.
Rolling up, I suppressed a groan. I was fucking tired, but I had to get some chores done.
Since there hadn’t been a single floorboard creaking, I put on a pair of sweats and tiptoed to the bathroom. The reflection staring back at me was of a thirty-four-year-old guy with messy hair, bloodshot eyes, and a couple of gray strands in his beard that had appeared in the last couple of years.
I shoved a hand through my hair. Now it was messy but going in the same direction.
When I was done, I swung open the door and faced wide amber eyes.
“Oh.” Her gaze dropped to my shirtless chest and her pink lips parted. “Oh. Sorry.”
What did the second “Oh” mean? Was she impressed? I hadn’t been a scrawny kid, but years of helping my parents on their ranch and then building my own, plus a hobby farm, had packed on some muscle.
I wasn’t the clean, manufactured country boy she’d been dating lately.
Irritation itched along the back of my neck. “It’s all yours.”
She didn’t move. Her long light-brown hair with gentle blue highlights billowed around her face. She wore a tank top, and one strap hung off her shoulder. I fought a worthy battle against checking if the front of her top was dipping because of that damn strap.
