“Thanks.”
“Did you refinish the floors too?”
“Nope, they’re the same.”
“Still can’t get two words out of you.” Her amused tone of voice, which annoyed him.
“This was your idea, not mine.” He set her suitcase down in the spare room, which served as his office too. Besides a desk it had a full-size bed and a chest of drawers he’d picked up at a tag sale. Enough space for someone to put a few things away. Not that he had a lot of guests.
She tipped her head, appraising him. “You look good.” She rubbed her face, miming his beard. “I like the scruff. It suits you.”
He took a step back, the small rush of pleasure that she still found him attractive immediately hardening into wariness.Then a wash of relief that he no longer felt the powerful tug that made men chase her like besotted drones. He’d been one of them, so desperate to keep her he’d ended up driving her away. So devastated when she left that his mother had to move in to help with Lilah until he could put one foot in front of the other.
Now all he felt was irritation that he’d let himself be talked into this. “It’s late,” he said. “I’m tired and I’m sure you are too.”
She plopped onto the bed. “It’s only ten for me. How about a glass of wine?”
“There’s some in the fridge. Help yourself.” He was too wound up to be tired, but he had no intention of having a glass of wine with her. He’d opened his home for Lilah’s sake, but that was it. He wasn’t about to get chummy with Sophie like they were old friends. Because they weren’t.
She tugged off a boot, groaning in relief.
He eyed the boots narrowly. “Why do you wear those things if they’re so uncomfortable?”
She laughed. “I live in Colorado. People wear cowboy boots.” She massaged her foot, and he looked away. “Oh have a glass of wine with me, Glenn. I haven’t seen you in ages, and it’d be nice to hear what Lilah’s up to.”
His anger flared like a struck match. “You could talk to her on the phone once in a while and find out for yourself.”
She sighed. “I know I’m not going to win any awards for motherhood. I get that. But I do think about her. She sent me a little video of her talking about school and stuff. She was so cute.”
He kept his face expressionless, but a seed of worry took root in his gut. Lilah hadn’t said anything about a video. What else hadn’t she told him?
Sophie reached for something in her bag and her bracelets jangled. “What’s with those?” he muttered. They seemed to havea life of their own, clattering up and down her arm depending on how she moved.
“These? I got them at a flea market. What’s the matter with them?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” He didn’t give a damn about the bracelets; what he disliked was the way she had shimmied into their lives. A place to land on the way to visit her mother, and oh yeah, try to convince Lilah to go along. An impressionable twelve-year-old who would find everything about her mother intoxicating.
“I need to get to bed,” he said. “There’s clean towels in the hall bathroom.”
“Hey, I know this is weird. I do.”
He turned to look at her. “Do you? I don’t even get why you’re here.”
She patted the spot next to her on the bed like she was inviting the dog. “If you won’t have a glass of wine with me, at least sit for a minute.” When he hesitated she rolled her eyes. “Whoever your lady friend is, she’s got you on a short leash. Believe me, I’m not that alluring after eight hours of travel.”
He sat reluctantly, worried her proximity might dredge up some dormant desire, but he felt only a mild surprise that he’d once been married to this person. How did you share your life with someone—have a child together!—then end up strangers?
“Why are you here?” he said. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen your mother in eight years.”
“She’s been out to Colorado a few times, but I haven’t been back. I meant to, but one thing or another…she’s actually not doing that great.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said grudgingly. “What’s the matter?”
“Breast cancer. She’s in treatment. She says it’s going okay, but you know…it seemed like a good time to come.”
He hadn’t known her mom well. To hear Sophie tell it she’d been a hands-off parent who left Sophie and her sister to fend for themselves. Her parents had divorced early, and her dad was hardly in the picture. No wonder Sophie had missed the maternal gene. But that was too generous. People made their own choices no matter what kind of childhood they were handed. He would crawl through fire for Lilah. He could never forgive Sophie for walking away.
She rubbed her other foot, which she’d freed from the boot. “My mom being sick got me thinking I should spend more time with Lilah.”
