“Tellwhohow I feel aboutwhat?”
“TellErinhow you feel abouther.”
I snorted. “She knows how I feel. She’s one of my closest friends.”
“You’re in love with her.”
“Bloody hell, Cole. Knock it off, man. She’s getting married in an hour.”
“Not to you.”
“No shit.”
“You’re going to regret not telling her.”
I hadn’t understood a word he was saying until the priest had asked the groom to recite his vows. Off I went. Cole’s elbow in my ribs and a well-timed cough covered up my mistake. It was a hell of a time to realize I’d been in denial for years, but once I’d admitted my feelings—at least to myself—it was all over. My bed turned cold. I hadn’t looked at another woman since.
Regrets? Yeah, I had one. Cole was right. I should’ve told Erin.
Now, she was coming home, and Jeremy wasn’t coming with her.
All the nerves I’d ignored on the drive to the airport swarmed in my gut like a pack of pissed-off wasps when Erin walked into the terminal. Sporting a ponytail, jeans, and a pink T-shirt, shestill looked like a million bucks to me. My palm flattened on my chest. A big breath dragged in. Would this dizzy feeling ever go away when I got my eyes on her? Did I want it to?
Matilda marched beside Erin. No nerves for that kid. She grinned at the flight attendant cooing over her curly pigtails and then twisted around to show off her ruffled pink princess dress. The high-top sneakers that lit up when she walked were my favorite, though.
I could’ve played it cool, hung back, and waited for Erin to search for me in the crowd at the gate. Did I? Nope. I started shouldering my way past everyone to get to the front.
“Ez!”
Relief flooded her eyes. “Cal!” She flew at me with her arms wide.
I wrapped her up in a hug. “It’s been forever since you were here.” The squeeze of her arms around my back was the best feeling in the world.
“Not quite a year.” She tipped a grin up at me. “You’ll be sick of the sight of me soon enough.”
Never.
A tiny hand tugged my shirt. “Matilda like hugs!” The soles of her high-tops flashed as she bounced up and down, arms flapping to get my attention.
I gave Erin another squeeze and untangled myself to make some space. “Oh, does she?” I smiled down at Matilda.
The little girl’s eyes rounded, and she scurried behind Erin’s leg. Bloody hell. Had my face scared her? Probably. Not many men walking around had scars as bad as mine.
I crouched in front of Matilda’s hiding place, and softening my voice, I said, “Hey there.”
One dark eye peeked out from behind denim.
“You probably don’t remember me,” I said. “I’m Cal.”
Matilda inched away from her mother’s leg. “You a…pie-wot?”
I glanced up at Erin, silently begging for a translation. Matilda had the sweetest chirp, but I’d need to listen extra hard until I was used to talking to a toddler.
Erin whispered, “Pirate.”
I cocked my head. “You think I’m a pirate because of this?” I asked Matilda, my finger tracing the longest scar that went through my cheek.
She nodded.
