Page 83 of Hope After Loss

I swallow the rest of the excuses I had cooking up in my mind and nod against his chest.

“Do you need help, getting Baby Duck?”

I cough out a laugh. “No, I can manage.”

“Okay then. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” I agree.

He turns and makes his way back down the steps to his truck, and I stand under the light and wave as he backs out before his taillights fade into the night.

“That was hot!”

I look to my left to see Brandee standing in the shadows between our homes with a sleeping Kaela in her arms.

“You wanna glass of wine?” I ask.

She grins and joins me on the porch. I take my girl from her, and she takes the keys from my hand and lets us in.

“Sure, but a nightcap with me won’t be nearly as much fun as a nightcap with him would’ve been,” she says as she lets us in.

Don’t I know it?

Weston

Ilet myself into the garage and then follow the aroma into the house to the kitchen in search of coffee.

I find Langford at the stove, flipping bacon. Isley is at the island, finishing a stack of pancakes.

I texted him this morning to ask if I could borrow some of his and Tucker’s camping gear, and he told me he was making breakfast, to swing by, have a bite, and find what I needed.

Grabbing a mug from the cupboard above the microwave, I shuffle my way to the coffeemaker.

Langford’s eyes slide from the pan to me.

“Damn, you look like something the cat dragged in. What did you do last night?” he asks.

I add a pod to the machine, press the brew button, and stand there, tapping my foot impatiently.

“What’s the worst thing I could’ve done?” I ask.

He places the fork on the spoon rest and faces me. “You didn’t drink too much and have an accident, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Thank goodness. You know how Pop feels about that.”

I nod.

“You didn’t drink too much and hit on someone’s wife at the bar again, did you?”

“Worse,” I mutter.

“Shit, West. I told you that you have to ask. You can’t trust that she’s single just because she isn’t wearing a ring,” he scolds.

“I didn’t have to ask,” I say.

He leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. “You mean to tell me that you were sober and hit on a woman, knowing she was another man’s wife?”