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“And you’re full of shit, as usual,” she said. “I’m going gray. I’ve packed on thirty pounds that I can't lose to save my life. I’m nothing like the twenty-something bride I used to be.”

“Can’t really tell. All those clothes you’re wearing obstructs my view.”

Hattie rolled her eyes and fussed at the sheets, leaning in close to plump my pillow. With her lashes lowered, I couldn’t see her eyes, but at this close proximity, I smelled the same tartly-sweet green apple soap she always used, and a faint hint of her favorite honey blossom perfume I bought for her birthday every year so she didn’t run out.

I reached up and grasped Hattie’s chin, pressing my thumb beneath the swell of her lower lip. She froze and her gaze darted up to meet mine. After so many years had passed, my heart still skipped at the sight of those molten chocolate brown eyes.

I braced myself, waiting for Hattie to swat my hand away. To chastise me for touching her when I had no right to, when that privilege belonged to another man she favored over me.

There were a thousand things I wanted to ask her.

Are you happy?

Do you regret the divorce as much as I do?

Do you think we could have made it work if we tried just a little harder?

In the end, there was only silence between us. We used to shout, argue, flirt, banter, tease. We used to talk late into the night, tangled with each other under the sheets, until we drifted off to sleep.

And now…silence.

I hated that more than anything.

Chapter two

Hattie

It seemed like an eternity passed before I could extricate myself from Neil. After making my excuses, I left the hospital and quickly escaped into the fresh air to clear my head. I exhaled a shaky breath of relief.

Seeing my ex-husband stirred up feelings I thought I would never experience again. Feelings I had worked so hard to bury six feet deep.

And yet, they all came bubbling up to the surface as soon as I had been foolishly close enough to kiss him.

Falling in love with Neil “Kingpin” Gibson had been nothing short of insanity. We were at each other’s throats all the time over something—his club, that goddamn bike, our future, having kids. My mother had warned me repeatedly that he would break my heart, that he was no good for me.

But I didn’t listen. I wanted him.

With Neil, I felt limitless. Ever since I was a little girl, I had a temper that would get me into trouble. My mother told me to rein it in, behave myself, get it under control.

Neil never said anything like that. When my temper flared, he stood strong amid the heat. When I lashed out with my sharp tongue and cutting words, he got this…gleamin his eye. Almost as if he was proud of me.

Neil never shied away.

That’s probably why every fight we ever had resulted in sex. Pumped full of adrenaline. Tearing each other’s clothes off.

Fuck your frustration out,is what Neil always said, a little smug, daring me to finish what we’d started.

And it worked. Usually.

Except the whole…divorce thing.

No amount of sex could fix that.

I sighed, fishing around in my purse until I found the key to my rental car. That whiskey-rough grit in Neil’s voice had deepened even more over the years, if that was possible. Judging by the hot, tight coil in my lower belly, my panties still turned into a damp mess when I was around him.

After my separation with Neil, I moved out of Brightwater within two weeks. I knew I couldn’t stay in Montana. It would hurt too much. I needed a blank slate, somewhere that didn’t remind me of my ex-husband everywhere I looked.

So I took a job in Seattle—worlds apart from Montana. The sprawling suburbs, endless traffic, and the expensive rent I shelled out for my tiny apartment convinced me that I was making changes, moving on, and leaving Neil behind for good.