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Eden leaned against the bench. “So, is Brian a good guy? Like, do you know? Cuz, I’m not hooked into the buzz around town yet. I’m still new and I just, well, I just don’t know. I heard he likes me.”
Shane picked up his sketch pad and a pencil. He settled back in his chair, the one facing the window, the sunlight and clear blue sky, and he began to draw. He could tell her that every single Danvers was a no good son-of-a-bitch, except he knew that would backfire. Hell, he was pretty damn sure that was exactly what Travis Barker had told his daughter the first time she’d brought him around the house.
Damn, Travis was right. Shane was a son-of-a-bitch. But he was a son-of-a-bitch who loved his daughter more than anything and he was going to do whatever it took to ma
ke her happy. He was going to drive through and smash to pieces whatever the hell it was that was bothering her.
He would do all of that this weekend because Shane knew he couldn’t rest until things were settled and Bobbi was his.
He glanced up at Eden.
But first he needed to be there for someone else.
Chapter Twenty-Four
A pillow landing on her head wasn’t exactly the way Bobbi envisioned waking up Sunday morning. In fact, a warm arm wrapped around her stomach and attached to the man she loved was more of what she was wanting.
Except things were complicated and on this particular Sunday, she was home, in her old bed, under the faded pink and white covers she’d had since she was sixteen. Pretty damn pathetic.
“Hey, are you getting your ass out of bed or what?”
Bobbi groaned and rolled over, squinting at the clock that sat on her night table. “Betty, it’s six in the morning.”
“I know. Happy fucking Easter.”
“Really? Do you have to be so crude first thing in the morning?”
“Crude? This is me being nice. Happy if you will.”
Bobbi rubbed her eyes and glanced toward her sister. Betty leaned against the doorframe, dressed in jeans, a crimson, low-cut stretchy top, and cowboy boots. Her long hair was a tangled mess, her make up smudged and she smelled like a damn brewery. Same old, same old.
Bobbi sighed. “Let me guess. Matt Hawkins.”
“Nah, he’s old news.”
“So who then?”
“No one you would know. Get up. Let’s have coffee and talk.”
Bobbi fell back onto the bed. “I don’t want to talk.”
Betty tossed another pillow at her. “Who gives a shit what you want? The fact that you’re here and not in bed with Shane, tells me you need to talk. So I’m heading down to make a pot of coffee and if you’re not there in like, ten minutes, I’ll be back and trust me, it won’t be a pillow that lands on your head either.”
“Go to hell,” Bobbi muttered into her pillow.
For a moment there was nothing.
“I’m already there, but that doesn’t mean you have to join me.”
And then she was gone.
Bobbi heard a toilet flush down the hallway and knew it was Gramps. He was always up at this time for a morning pee, but he’d be back to bed and asleep within minutes. You could set your watch by Herschel’s schedule and she knew he wouldn’t be fully awake until nearly nine in the morning with her father on his heels.
Shivering, Bobbi pulled the blankets up a little higher. She was cold because she was alone in the bed. Tired, because she wasn’t used to sleeping alone, and upset because she knew that she couldn’t hide the truth from Shane any longer. If they were to have a chance at a future she needed to come clean.
She had spent all afternoon the day before, baking with Billie, while Betty watched more than helped. By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Betty had left for the night and she’d sent Billie back to Logan while she stayed behind to clean up.
The two girls hadn’t discussed Billie’s pregnancy. First off, Betty had been around for most of the day and for whatever reason, the two girls weren’t exactly friendly. Secondly, Bobbi wasn’t sure if she had the emotional backbone to deal with her sister’s crisis right now. Things with Shane were still way too fresh in her mind. That morning was still too fresh in her mind.
