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Duke huffs in response, not bothering to take his boots off, he grabs one of the upright stools and sits down. Butch shakes his head, disappearing upstairs and leaving me alone with a scared sausage dog in my arms and one prickly Montgomery brother.
Setting Frankie down, I get him a treat to help calm him before picking up the stool and putting away the dessert from the restaurant in the fridge. I’m not sure if Butch is feeling up for a movie or not tonight. It’s still rather early, not even after ten.
The sound of Duke mumbling behind me has me turning to face him. He appears miserable and disheveled, like he’s been carrying this weight on his shoulders all this time and only lets the misery out one night a year. “I’m…sorry,” I attempt, choosing my next words carefully. “What I said before, it’s none of my business. I didn’t mean to overstep or upset you.”
Duke’s dark eyes lift and he stares at me so deeply I wonder if he even knows I’m here. “I stopped mourning her years ago,” he mutters, rubbing a heavy hand over his scruffy chin. “I can go months without thinking about her most of the time, but every day I think…” He swallows hard, tears springing to his eyes, his cheeks flushing. “She was only a few weeks pregnant when she died.”
I try to contain my gasp, but I’m unable to halt the spring of emotion that has me bringing a hand to my heart. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
“Not many people know,” he admits. “Four, actually. Even after the funeral, I never had the heart to tell her parents that’s why she was coming to visit them.”
My heart hurts and I clutch the counter in front of me.
“Every day I think about that baby.” His voice grates like a dagger—broken and cold. “Every goddamn day. What does thatsay about me? Mourning the loss of something I never had over someone I had for years.”
I…don’t even know how to respond. I nod wordlessly, unable to give him comfort in any form. Nothing I say or do for him tonight is going to take away his pain. He may be admitting to me that he’s over the loss of his deceased wife, but he’s still in mourning—for a completely different reason.
“He loves you, ya know.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s speaking to me again and not himself, considering we’re the only ones in the room aside from Frankie. I glance at him, slowly letting his words settle in my mind until my heart stops beating. “What, um, makes you say that?”
“He said as much.” His head tips from side to side, whether that’s him mulling over his thought process that brought him to that conclusion or from being drunk, it’s unclear. “More or less.”
“Well, which is it?” I blurt, my stomach doing somersaults.
Promise and excitement cascade over me the same way they did when Butch first showed up offering to help me patch the leak in my roof. Duke might not be himself at the moment, but he’s one of the few people who is closest to Butch—at least from what I’ve gathered. If anyone else told me Butch was in love with me, I’d likely disregard them. Right now, however, I can’t seem to shake it off as a meaningless statement.
“More or less? What exactly did he—”
“All right.” Butch’s voice carries down the stairs as he descends. My gaze snaps to him carrying a bundle of blankets, a sheet, and no pillow. “Time for bed, little brother,” he says tauntingly, tossing the bundle on the end of the couch.
Duke grumbles something under his breath, pushing off the stool aggressively—to the point I think it might topple over as well. Instead of heading for his brother, he stomps over to the stairs.
Butch scowls. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“To bed,” Duke huffs, stomping up the stairs one heavy boot at a time.
“You’re on the couch,” Butch hollers after him, scrubbing a hand down his face when his brother makes no show of stopping. “Goddammit.”
I step around the island, pushing the stool back into place. “I can take the couch.”
“No.” Butch shakes his head, a low growl vibrating his throat as he comes toward me. “It’s bad enough you slept there last night.”
He tugs me closer to him and I snake my arms around his waist, my chin resting on his chest. Blinking away the emotional roller-coaster of a fragmented conversation I just had with his brother. “So did you. And I can’t imagine it was comfortable given your size.”
His brow quirks up. “You callin’ me fat, Sunshine?”
I snort-giggle and give him a mock squeeze. “You know what I mean.”
He huffs, bringing his arms around to fully encase me against his chest and kissing my forehead. “I’ll be fine down here if you don’t mind sleeping in my bed. Assuming Duke took the spare room and he’s not in mine already.”
I hum loudly as if to show I’m thinking it over. Although, I think the solution here is fairly obvious. “We slept together last night, we can do it again tonight.”
A slow grin splits his face. “Yeah?”
I shrug, trying to tamp down my smile and the butterflies flying south for the evening. “I don’t know about you, but I slept pretty good last night.”
“I did, too,” he says. “Well, maybe a little cramped.” He tightens his hold on me. “But I’d do it again with you in a heartbeat.”
