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She’d successfully covered her pale complexion with a light dusting of bronzer and blush. With a touch of smoky shadow—along with the goopy mascara—her eyes had a dramatic, exotic look to them. A whisper of gloss on her lips and she was good to go.
She’d thought of flat-ironing her hair, but realized the ends would look jagged, a direct result of her dumb idea to cut it herself. So she left it to wave around her face and angled her head for a better look. She supposed the waves softened the more pronounced lines of her cheekbones and jaw.
She tucked the one piece that always curled the wrong way behind her ear and sighed. What the hell had she been thinking? Answer? She hadn’t.
Shit, Raine, the next time you’re feeling blue, do not pick up the scissors. Cutting hair isn’t the answer. Reach for the wine bottle instead. Wise words from her friend Maggie.
Raine dabbed a hint of Escape behind her ears and searched her closet for her black Pradas. They’d been an extravagant impulse purchase the last time she’d been to Detroit, but damn, they looked good and added to her height. She tossed them in her bag along with a pair of flats, and she was ready.
Raine stood in front of the long mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door and studied herself with a careful eye. She’d lost some weight in the last few months for sure, but the padded bra did wonders for her bustline, and the dress she’d donned didn’t look awful.
The bodice was a sleeveless boat neck in ice-blue silk, while the dark navy skirt clung to her body and fell a few inches above the knee. She smoothed the soft fabric over her hips, and for a second her fingers faltered as an image of strong male hands over hers flashed in her mind. She inhaled sharply, felt the heat and the whisper of a caress. An ache so intense it nearly brought her to her knees spread through her body, and a whimper fell from her lips as she struggled to keep it together.
Her hands lingered at her waist, and her vision blurred as the emptiness inside her expanded into fragments of hurt, despair, and longing. She bit her lip. She couldn’t let it linger. She knew from previous experience that if she did, it would consume her and she’d never make it out of the house.
Gibson chose that moment to come barreling into her bedroom, barking happily at her feet, and it was enough to break the spell. Raine exhaled a long, shuddering breath and ran her fingers across his soft back, digging in slightly as she murmured, “You ready, fella?”
The dog took off for the foyer, Raine following in his steps, and after she slipped into a pair of boots, she grabbed her purse off the hall table along with a bottle of wine and headed out into the crisp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped earlier that morning, though it was still cold and damp. Dead leaves scattered her yard, their wet carcasses dressing the grass and pathway in a blanket of gray-brown sludge.
She picked her way toward her car, avoiding mud and slimy leaves, though she was pretty sure Gibson wasn’t as careful. Not that it mattered. She didn’t exactly drive a limo. She let him into the backseat, where he promptly turned in a circle before settling onto an old, ratty blanket.
The car was an ancient Volkswagen she’d bought when she was eighteen after working two entire summers at The Hut, a local ice cream joint. Jesse had hated the damn thing and refused to even sit in it, referring to it as a Barbiemobile. She smiled at the thought, though it quickly faded as she glanced toward the passenger seat. It was as empty as it ever was, the moss-colored vinyl seat held together with duct tape. She’d thought of getting it repaired, but then, what was the point? No one ever sat in it.
With a sigh she reversed out of her driveway and headed toward the Edwardses’.
The trip didn’t take long, as her in-laws basically lived around the corner—though out here it meant they lived down the lake. She followed the twisting road, catching sight of the water through the trees to her left, and ten minutes later pulled up next to Jake’s Jeep. She noticed another car parked on the other side of it and frowned.
A tattered bumper sticker with an overly religious slogan—Raise Your Hand for Jesus—was barely discernible from age, but it sure as hell looked like her mother’s compact sedan.
Great. It would be just like Marnie to invite Gloria for dinner. The woman had a heart of gold and a soft spot for anyone and everything.
Gibson yapped happily and followed her up the steps toward the front door. She opened it and whispered for the dog to sit, but of course Gibson was like any other man she knew. His selective hearing kicked in and he ignored her completely, running madly toward the back of the house, where the kitchen was.
Where the food was.
And from the sounds of the voices…where all the people were.
Raine picked out Jake’s low timbre immediately, and as she slipped off her boots and tucked her feet into her heels, she wondered how the hell she was going to get through this day. Between Jake, his lady friend, and her mother, Gloria, she just might end up bat-shit crazy.
Gibson must have found the humans—Marnie’s squeal of delight echoed down the hall—and that brought a smile to Raine’s face. Her mother-in-law adored the puppy and had insisted she bring him for the afternoon.
“There you are!”
Raine had just hung up her coat when she turned and was immediately enveloped by her father-in-law’s tight embrace. Steven Edwards was a tall, burly bear of a man who had no trouble showing emotion. A man of contradictions, he wasn’t afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve because he didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought of him. He lived for his family and loved his wife with blind devotion, but when it came to business, he was known as a ball breaker.
“You look beautiful.” He stood back and nodded—his pale eyes so much like Jesse’s, crinkled around the corners. His large, open face was a tad gaunt from his surgery. And though he too had lost a bit of weight, the man was still sturdy. They stared at each for several seconds, her eyes misting at the pain reflected in his. Jesse was gone, but his presence was still larger than life, and she knew Steven missed his son terribly.
He cleared his throat. “Can I take that?”
She handed him the bottle of wine. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”
“Bah.” He waved his hand. “I look like crap, but I’m feeling better.”
“Raine, we were just going to send Jake after you.” Marnie Edwards joined her husband, a smile on her face. The woman was small, a few inches over five feet, with a slight frame. She always looked put together and today was no different. Her simple cream dress, a Dior by the look of it, was fabulous, and her dark hair, perfectly kept and shiny, curved expertly against her jaw. Red and black jewelry complemented the ensemble.
“Well, I’m here, so there’s no need to send the cavalry.”
“Come on in, we’re just having drinks, and dinner is ready when we are.” Marnie threaded her arm through Raine’s. “I hope you don’t mind, but I asked your mother to join us.”
