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“Oh, Rach, I’m so sorry. When?”
“Over a year ago.” Her brown eyes saddened. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone and showed it to me. “We have a son. His name is Cash.”
I took her phone and looked at the background photo of her cell. “He’s beautiful.”
“Yeah.” Her smile wobbled. “He is.”
I handed the phone back to her. “I’m sorry, Rach.”
She shrugged. “C’est la vie.”
I didn’t want to pry any further—we’d only just reconnected. It didn’t feel right.
“Where’s Cash now?” I asked.
“With my mom. After my husband died, I moved back to Wyoming for a bit. But I never did like harsh winters. I was able to convince my mom to leave again and come back to Waco with me. She watches him when I want to come and hang out for a bit. It’s nice having some free time.”
“Nice.” I nodded. “Yeah. A support system is good.”
“So, what the hell are you doing here?” Rach demanded. Her grin was tempered but authentic.
“What the hell am I doing here,” I repeated. “Jeez, it’s a story.”
Rach drummed her fingers on the table. “Good thing I’ve got time.”
Chapter 23
“What a shit bag,” Rach said after I told her about Knox.
“Major shit bag,” I agreed. “Thank God for Tavy. She kind of gave me a way out. Have you met her yet?”
Rach shook her head. “Where are you staying? You need a place? I’ve got a spare room.”
“You’re so sweet,” I said. “But no. I was staying here for the time being. Brooklyn just offered me the apartment over her bakery.”
“You mean you’d rather live in your own apartment and sleep the night through instead of having a roommate with a baby that screams randomly in the middle of the night to wake you up?” she quipped.
“Pass.” I laughed. “But I would love to meet your son. If that’s okay, I mean.”
“Of course it’s okay.” She reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “It’s so weird. The last time I saw you, you were what? Twelve?”
I nodded. “We’ve both lived so much life between then and now, haven’t we?”
“Seriously.”
We fell silent for a moment and she pulled her hand away. She reached for her glass of sparkling water and ventured to ask, “How is Chase?”
“You already asked me that,” I said with a slow grin.
She cleared her throat and her cheeks bloomed. “Damn, I was hoping that would slide under the radar.”
“Still single, if that’s what you were getting at.”
“It wasn’t,” she protested. “But I’m surprised he’s still single. He was such a good—”
“Please don’t say lover. He is my brother.”
She snorted. “No. I was going to say he’s such a nice guy. Like, genuinely nice. Solid.”
