“Wyn?”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think?”
“I think a lot of things.”
“Yes, I know, but what do you think aboutthis?”
“I think if you’re happy, then I’m happy.”
“Then why do you sound so miserable?” I asked.
“As happy as I am for you—and I truly am—it just reminds me that I don’t have what you have.”
“An ex-con cowboy with super sperm?”
She sniggered but then sobered. “A man who loves me and is completely devoted to me.” She sighed. “How’d Brooks take the news when he found out?”
“Momentarily stunned. And then very, very happy.”
“I bet. Where is he? He didn’t go to work this morning, did he?”
“No. He’s at Sweet Teeth picking up some pastries. We had—ah—a late start this morning.”
Late start that began with him sliding into me.
“Hmm. So you never did tell mewhyyou were out alone on a trail. That’s so unlike you.”
Damn.
I’d hoped that Wyn was going to move past that part of the story, but there was no way she was going to let it go.
“We got into a fight,” I said.
“Oh. About the baby? That doesn’t make sense though.”
“Not about the baby,” I said. “About his past.”
“Brooks’ past?”
“Yes.”
“What about his past?”
“His biker past,” I said evasively.
“Are you purposefully being obtuse?”
“Yes.”
She paused. “Oh. You can’t talk about it, can you?”
“No, I can’t. If it makes you feel any better, it’s sort of killing me not to be able to confide in you.”
I winced at the Freudian word choice, glad that Wyn couldn’t see me. Because she’d instantly know something deeper was going on.
“Does it have anything to do with why he was in prison?” she asked.
