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Mac declined and Jake popped open his can, taking a good long drink.
The water lapped gently along the edge of the beach, small waves rolling in as the wind picked up, and even though the night was star-heavy, Mac smelled rain.
“How is she?” he asked, feeling that damn vise around his heart tighten as he sank lower into his chair and closed his eyes.
“Not good.”
No. He didn’t think she would be. Christ. When had everything gone to shit? Was he cursed to go through life in a pit of misery? Thinking back on things that he should have done differently?
Take Boston for instance. He knew that he was no good for her and still he went after her. He pursued her relentlessly. He took advantage of the undeniable attraction they felt for each other, and now things were as bad as he should have known they’d get.
He thought of the freckles on her nose and the way the right side of her mouth lifted when she smiled. He thought of how amazing she smelled and how soft she was to touch.
He thought of what it felt like to wake up with her in his bed and how he looked forward
to arguing with her over sports or music or movies, or just about anything. He loved getting her worked up. He loved listening to her voice.
He loved listening to her breathe, and he loved watching her sleep.
“I love her,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.
Jake crumpled his can and tossed it into the cooler. “I know that too.”
He looked at his friend in surprise and Jake shrugged. “It’s pretty damn hard not to, and, buddy, you’ve had it bad for her ever since you saw her on Memorial Day.” Jake settled back in his chair, stretching his long legs out as he did so. “I hate to tell you this, Mac, but you didn’t have a chance where Lily was concerned. I’ve never met two people who belonged together as much as you guys do. I gotta say I didn’t see it at first, but I do now and it would be wrong for you to throw it away.”
Mac didn’t answer right away because he wasn’t sure that he could convey what he was feeling. He listened to the water. He let it lull him into a place of peace, or at the very least, as close to peace as he was going to get.
“I’m no good for her, Jake, and I sure as hell can’t raise a kid.”
“Bullshit.”
Mac sat a little straighter. “What?”
“I call bullshit.”
“You can’t call bullshit on something like that.”
“Why not?”
Was Jake trying to get under his skin?
“Because this is serious. It’s not a fucking game.”
“I know that and I still call bullshit.”
“Who’s calling bullshit on what?” The voice slid out from the dark, and Mac glanced down at the end of the dock, where a figure was slowly making his way toward them.
Cain.
The rocker looked like hell with several days’ worth of stubble on his chin and clothes that looked as if he’d slept in them.
“Shit, Cain, I thought I looked bad,” Mac said, moving over and giving him some room.
Cain slid into a third chair and sighed. “Maggie’s, uh, not exactly in a good place right now. She’s ready to have this baby, but the baby doesn’t want to come out and play. She thinks she’s as big as a house and ugly as sin, and goddamn, but she cries at the drop of a hat. It’s like walking on broken glass these days.”
Cain sighed again. “I’m telling ya, having a baby is tougher on the father than the mother, that’s for sure. That’s something they don’t put in those stupid baby books that she leaves laying all over the place. The ones that she says I don’t have to read but then when she quizzes me on them and I screw up she gets a little upset.”
Jake tossed Cain a beer, but Mac still wasn’t in the mood to drink.
