“What a dick.”
“It was quite a dick.”
She chokes and slaps a hand to her mouth. When she recovers her breath, she glares at me. “A little more than kissing?”
“Dry humping,” I mutter.
“Jeez.”
“He calls me rosy.” I rub my hands down my face. My cheeks are still piping-hot. The stress of the past week piles on my shoulders with the loss, the grief, and the roller coaster of emotions. “I was really starting to think there was more to him than some obnoxious rich guy who thinks he’s too good for this small town. I put everything into all things Jules Creek, and those guys just…don’t care.”
She gets up. “This conversation needs more beer.”
How am I going to show my face around Calder again? I can’t imagine walking into that house with the both of them. Will theybe in the living room, or will Calder be in his spot at the table, ready to glare at me when I walk in? Will Bowen be sitting in my spot?
Sawyer returns with two Jules Creek IPAs, and I polish off my first.
“By the way, we’ve started locking the doors.” Which was why Bowen ruined the most perfect make-out session I’ve ever been a part of.
“Why? Is that a rich prick thing too?”
“I felt like someone was in there last night.” Was it only last night? The past hour tripled how long the day felt.
She sits straighter. “What? Did you get robbed? Vandalized?”
“We couldn’t find anything broken or missing, but Calder helped me look and locked the door.” I shift my gaze away. “And made me sleep in his bed while he took the couch.”
She doesn’t speak at first. Then she smacks her lips. “So he might actually care.”
“No.”
More silence.
I nibble the inside of my cheek. “But he kicked Tanner out for grabbing my arm.”
She holds a hand up. “When the hell did that slimy humper come to town?”
I smile, loving her steadfast hatred of my ex. “He claimed he wanted to talk to me, and he kept trying to get me alone. Calder took care of it. He was, like,right there, ready to step in.” A wishful sigh sneaks out of me.
“God, Meredith. You’ve got it bad for that moody rich bastard.”
“No.” My lips tingle, along with the skin of my lower abdomen that got to learn the touch of his fingers. “I think it’s just that he’s temporary.” And handsome as hell. Maybe we’re both distracting ourselves from our grief.
Understanding fills her eyes, and she chews on the inside of her cheek. “What are you going to do without the brewery?”
“What are you going to do without the ranch?” It’s more than a part-time hustle. It’s like a second home to her.
“Get really good at avoiding Kelly at work.”
Kelly Driscoll is her coworker—and former fiancé. “Is he still telling you she’s nothing but a friend?”
“‘She’s like a sister,’” she mimics and adopts a fake pout, then she rolls her eyes. “Why do our selfish exes get to live the good life? You’re going to get tossed out on your ass by some millionaires, and I’m going to be a lonely cat lady without you.” She glances at the passed-out dog. “No offense, Simba.”
“To be fair, I’m getting tossed on my ass. You have a house.”
“And you always have a room when you need one.” Her sweet smile fades. “I don’t want you to move away again.”
She’s casually mentioned before that the years I lived in Williston were lonely for her. Being a single workaholic in a tiny town doesn’t open up many avenues for friendships and relationships. Somehow, though, her ex still found a way to have a girl best friend he treated better than his fiancée.
