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“Take your time,” Trinity says, without looking up from her cupcake tray.
I trudge down the hallway leading to the back staircase, hoping to avoid as many people as possible.
The ceremony stirred up a lot of emotions. Doubts too. I never asked Dex to tell me more about his wife and child. Maybe we weren’t as close as I thought we were. I hated the thought of bringing up painful subjects for him. But after his thoughtful words at the ceremony, I can’t stop thinking about everything he’s lost.
I’m still shaken from our encounter after the ceremony. His certainty that we’ll be together one way or another. It should’ve scared me. Instead, I wanted to melt into his arms.
Today isn’t about me. Or Dex. It’s about my best friend and her son.
After a quick mental scolding, I shake out a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a yellow cardigan with colorful crocheted flowers sprinkled over it. I change, tame my hair again, slick on some lip gloss, and head downstairs.
This time, Serena’s in the kitchen holding Lincoln with one arm and setting out cups and napkins with her free hand.
“Let me get that,” I say, hurrying to help her.
She throws me a grateful smile. “Thanks. You changed! That dress looked so pretty on you.”
“Thanks. I didn’t want to wreck it.” I give her a teasing elbow nudge. “I’m here to help you out, not look pretty.”
“Well, you’re pretty no matter what.” She lowers her voice. “Girl, the way Dex kept staring at you during the ceremony almost made me burst into flames.”
She’s teasing but I don’t have the heart to laugh.
“Can I ask you something?” I lower my voice, so no one else in the kitchen overhears us.
She lifts an eyebrow. “Always.”
“What do you know about Dex’s wife?”
She blinks, then frowns. “I…nothing really. Gray mentioned once that Dex’s wife and daughter died years ago and that it messed him up pretty bad.” She hesitates and glances around, then hovers closer to me. “I think that’s why Gray was so happy when you two got together.”
Now I feel even worse. Why is Gray still so nice to me? Surely Dex told him all about the shitty way I broke things off.
“Why?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I sigh and hold my arms out for Lincoln, then settle onto one of the kitchen stools with my getting-heavier-every-day godson. “He told me very little. It seemed to be a sore subject, so I never pressed him for details. I was just wondering.”
“Because you’re going to get back together?” she asks, with way too much hope in her voice.
I turn my head, again checking that no one’s close enough to overhear us. “He made it clear after the ceremony that’s his plan.” Did he ever. My body’s still tingling everywhere we touched.
“Squeee!” She clasps her hands together and does a little tap dance. Lincoln whips his head toward his mother, his big blue eyes full of curiosity.
I arch a brow. “Libby does the same routine when she gets an A in math.”
She playfully taps my arm. “Stop it. You two are meant to be together.” Her smile slips. “You’ll work through whatever this is.”
I’m glad she’s so confident.
Like a poorly trained house guest I watch her move around the kitchen. She hesitates, opens a cabinet, closes it, then tries another one.
“Still not used to where everything is?” I ask, shifting Lincoln in my arms.
“No,” she sighs. “We bought a lot of new stuff when we moved in and I can’t even remember what we have, let alone where I put it.”
“You’ve had a lot of big changes in the last year,” I say gently. “You’ll have plenty of time to figure it out and arrange things the way you want them.”
“I hope so.” She bends down and peers into another cabinet. “Ah-ha! I knew I had one of these.” She sets a large, clear, round serving tray with an indentation in the middle on the counter in front of me.
Next, she pulls bags of celery and carrots out of the fridge.
“Are you really feeding this crew of bikers carrots and celery?” I ask, jerking my head toward the living room. Lincoln lets out a long, high, cooing sound as if he agrees with me.
She pulls a tub of blue cheese dressing out and waves it in the air. “No, I’ve got this to go with them.”
“I’d pair that with some chicken wings if I were you,” I tease.
Libby appears by my side. “You’re encroaching on my babysitting duties.” She leans in and flashes a big, goofy smile at baby Lincoln who squeals and drools in delight.
“Perfect timing, Libby,” Serena says. “Your sister was just about to arrange this veggie platter for me.”
“I was?” Laughing, I carefully hand Lincoln over to my sister.
“Please?” Serena asks.
Libby snickers and walks a few steps down the hallway, bouncing Lincoln in her arms and talking sweet baby nonsense to him.
