Page 37 of The Scars We Heal

“My ex-husband works in finance, so he’s always going on business trips. I grew up in Silver Creek, so I at least have family nearby who can help with Whit now.”

“You know how they say, ‘It takes a village?’ I never realized how true that statement was until I had a kid of my own. These days, I’ll take all the help I can get.”

I thought about Colter, Ellison, Jake, and the rest of the cowboys and their girlfriends. “Yeah, I’m really lucky to have people in my life who support me. Even if they aren’t family by blood. I think that was something I really missed when I was living in Washington.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re here and that we met.” Bec reached across the table for my hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“I am, too.”

“Okay, now tell me more about this landlord-slash-neighbor-slash-brother’s best friend you have.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

jake

Birthdays have always been strange to me. Growing up, I never celebrated getting older, so the idea of having a party at the age of thirty felt wrong. Caitlin—and Whitley—had insisted if they couldn’t throw me a party, they should at least give me a cake, although I was convinced Whitley only wanted to give me one because she knew I would give her a piece…or three. That theory was solidified when I noticed the cake was pure chocolate.

“Happy birthday, Jake.” Cait flashed me a wide grin as she presented the cake to me.

“Cake! Happy cake day!” Whitley squealed.

Scooping Whitley up in my arms, I spun around with her in my arms. “Thanks, stinker.”

She scrunched her nose, jabbing a finger into my cheek. “I’m not stinky. You are stinky.”

“That’s not very nice, Whit,” Caitlin scolded her.

She shrugged, forcing her way out of my arms. “Truth hurts.”

I barked out a laugh. “Damn!”

With a sheepish look, Caitlin asked, “Are you still okay to watch her for a little bit? I know you probably don’t want to after her blunt comment, but I swear she’s not always like that. Only like ninety percent of the time.”

“Of course, I can still watch her. I’m happy to help.”

“Are you sure? I can cancel my thing if you don’t have time or don’t⁠—”

“Cait.” I cut her off, hands settling on top of her shoulders. “I already said I would.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, okay? You don’t have to do that.”

“Sor—”

I raised my brows at her, and her mouth clamped shut. “That’s better.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it. You’re doing me a huge favor.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that so soon. Who knows, maybe you’ll come back and we’ll have adopted a chicken or something.”

“Please don’t,” she pleaded, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes.

I pointed to the cake in her hands. “Come on, let’s cut this cake before Whitley throws a fit.”

After we all ate, Caitlin left for a yoga class that a friend she met at a cycling class recommended to her.

Whitley had chocolate frosting smeared all over her face and hands, and I was doing my best to clean her off.