“You got it.” He had a feeling Dalton was hoping he could find out more about Rose’s situation if he had some time alone with her. He wasn’t so sure there was anything else to tell. But he’d take the opportunity to spend more time with her. Every second they were together were seconds he could use to try and persuade her; a small town in the middle of nowhere Montana was as good as any to take a stand against her ex.
23
If she was ever lucky enough to be able to stop running and to have friends again, then Rose wanted them to be these women. Today, along with the time she’d spent with Indy and Lizz, was blowing her mind. These women included her and made her feel like she wasn’t a guest but a member of their tribe. The difference between the people she’d called friends before and these women was stark. These women were bound by something she didn’t understand, yet after spending hours reading under a blanket fort in the living room with her, they now gathered in Caleb’s kitchen, laughing, teasing, and singing along with the playlist, making a mess as they whipped together goodies. Because, as Willow had insisted, ‘icky days needed goodies to feed the soul.’
Why couldn’t I have found people like these before? They are friend goals. I want friends like this when I figure out a way to get my life back. No, I don’t just want friends like them; I want to do the friendship thing like they do.
Baking cookies and muffins wasn’t really her forte, but they hadn’t excluded her. She’d been invited to stir bowls and lick spoons. Baking and her didn’t belong in the same town, never mind the same street. But in this kitchen with these women, it didn’t matter.
Rose didn’t know what she’d expected after the morning she’d had, but she fully anticipated something different. Yet, books, wine, ice cream, and baking had been just what she needed. If only all her troubles were as easily fixed. She closed the dishwasher, unable to fit any more bowls in it, and leaned against the counter, unsure of what to do next. The music on Becky’s playlist stopped as the phone chimed.
Becky picked it up. She read the message and rolled her eyes, talking out loud as she tapped a response. “No, Tuck. I’m not causing trouble or making a mess.”
The others teased Becky, reminding her that messes and causing them were her jam.
“But my Tuck loves it.” Becky flicked some flour at Lina. “You should try it sometime. Keep Dalton on his toes.”
“Sister, if my husband gets any more on his toes, he’ll qualify as lead in the Nutcracker ballet.”
Willow choked on her wine, sending it spewing across the counter. “Uncle D in a tutu. Promise me if that happens, you’ll take pictures.”
“I’ll send it in the monthly newsletter, because if that happens, it’s leverage.” Lina clinked her glass against Willow’s. “I’m not passing up leverage to raise his blood pressure, ya know.”
“One of these days, you are going to give your man a heart attack.” Eedana slid a cookie tray out of the oven.
“He’s a big boy. He can handle it.” Lina stole a cookie, flipping it over and back in her hands as she tried not to burn herself. “If he can’t, then life insurance is there for a reason.”
“Hah,” Willow replied. “You’d burn the world to the ground for him, and you know it.”
“Truth,” Lina allowed. “But my wedding vows promised I’d keep him on his toes. His part of the bargain is to be there to catch me when I fall.” She arched up an eyebrow. “Nobody said anything about not giving him a heart attack every now and again. It’s good for him to untwist his panties at least once every year or two.”
As she listened to the women teasing each other, she decided to stir the batter in the bowl a little more. She grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer as Becky put on her playlist again. The first track was “It’s Raining Men” by The Weather Girls. For the first time in longer than she could remember, she grabbed some more spoons from the drawer and tossed them to the others. It took about two seconds of her dancing around the kitchen, singing into the spoon, and pretending her life wasn’t a complete and utter mess before the others joined her.
Using the spoon as a microphone, she sang at the top of her lungs, getting lost in the words and allowing the music to thump through her soul. Rose leaned her head in next to Becky’s, and they both screeched the final line as the song came to an end.
Laughing hysterically, she turned around, only to freeze as her gaze landed on Caleb. Rose couldn’t think of another time in her life when she’d been more mortified.
“Ho boy,” Becky whispered as Rose stood there, staring at the man before her.
There wasn’t a man on the planet who should have been able to make her all hot and bothered just by watching her make a fool out of herself. “Um—hi.”
“Having fun?”
Embarrassment forgotten, she bit back the laughter that bubbled up and nodded. She had no idea what was wrong with her, and she didn’t even try to figure it out. She realized she had had fun. “Yeah, I did.”
“Good.” His smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle. “What’re you making?”
“I’m not.” She followed him to the counter so she didn’t do something stupid like tell him how she loved when his eyes heated like they did just now.
“We’re gonna go. Thanks for letting us destroy his kitchen.”
Rose jerked her gaze away from Caleb’s and blinked at Becky. This was ridiculous. She hadn’t even noticed them disappearing from the kitchen, gathering their things, or Lina going to fetch the baby from the bedroom.
Get a grip.
Seriously.
Get. A. Grip.
