“That’s not helpin’!” she yelled as she ran down the steps to her car.
Except, somehow, it did. His teasing words and subtle reassurance kept her mind off everything until she suddenly found herself on her old front porch, her finger ringing the doorbell.
Sarah Beth answered, blinking in surprise. “Rory, what—” She halted, her eyes growing wide as they ping-ponged over Rory’s state of dress.
It was only then that she remembered what she must look like—ragged, cutoff shorts, a sweat-soaked tank top, hair plastered to her head, and her mascara probably somewhere in the vicinity of her chin. In the time since she’d walked up to this door after she’d found out Sarah Beth had moved in, she’d gone from the always put-together perfectionist who couldn’t leave the house without a full face of makeup and church clothes to the woman who bolted without a second thought when her daughter needed her.
And she sort of…loved it.
She didn’t care that she smelled, that the only bit of makeup she wore had no doubt melted off long ago. She didn’t care that her legs had too much cellulite to wear these shorts anywhere but in the privacy of her own home. She just…didn’t care. She had bad days—and she’d had a hell of a bad day—and she was certain she was screwing up this whole thing, but she was doing it, dammit, and that had to count for something.
Rolling back her shoulders, she met Sarah Beth’s gaze straight on and refused to look away. She might not belong here anymore, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, she realized…she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was pick up Ava and bring her back to their house…the one that had somehow become a home.
“I’m here to get my daughter.”
After stoppingat the store to pick up some double fudge brownie ice cream and age-appropriate female necessities for Ava, Rory drove them home, sneaking peeks at her the entire way. When Rory had knocked on the door to the upstairs bathroom—the one still done in white and aqua from when she’d remodeled it last year—Ava had peered out through a crack, then whipped open the door and thrown her arms around Rory.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a fierce hug like that from Ava, and while she hated that her daughter had been scared—hated even more that she was growing up so fast—Rory couldn’t deny loving that Ava’d only wanted her momma.
Evening had settled since Rory’d been gone, and her headlights swept over the front of the house and Nash’s truck sitting in the driveway. She put her car in park, then reached over and brushed Ava’s hair back from her face. “I’ll run you a bath, and then we can sit on the couch, eat ice cream, and watch whatever you want. How’s that sound?”
“Really?” Ava asked, her eyes bright and hopeful.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get Ella to bed, and then it’s just us big girls, okay?”
She smiled—the first true smile directed at Rory in way too long—and nodded. Pausing as she reached for the door handle, she seemed to finally notice the other car in the driveway. “How come Nash’s truck is here?”
Rory shrugged. “I didn’t figure you wanted your sister along for all that. Nash was here workin’ on the porch and offered to stay with her until we got back.”
“Did youtellhim?” she asked, her voice tinged with horror.
“Course not, baby. He just knew you needed me, that’s all.”
“You…you won’t tell him, right? Why you had to leave, I mean?”
“You know gettin’ your period is nothing to be embarrassed about—”
“Momma!”
“—but I won’t say a word.”
Ava exhaled a deep sigh. “Thank you.”
Once Rory let them both inside, Ava barely squeaked out a hello to Nash before darting down the hall to her bedroom. And, to be perfectly honest, Rory wasn’t faring much better than her eldest daughter. She stood just inside the doorway, feeling stupefied.
Nash and Ella sat on the couch. Or rather, Nash sat and Ella sprawled—as was her way—one little foot in Nash’s lap, the other up on his shoulder, nearly touching his face. Her arms were this way and that, her head hung off the cushion, and she was fast asleep.
And there he was, in the middle of all that chaos, quietly enjoying someSid the Science Kid. Her stomach somersaulted—something she’d come to expect around him. But this time it was different because her heart flipped right along with it.
“Hey,” he said, his voice a low rumble, eyes darting over to Ella, no doubt to make sure she was still asleep. “Everything okay now?”
Had he asked her that a couple hours before, she’d have had a completely different answer for him. And even though her sister still wasn’t speaking to her and she was exhausted and feeling like she was failing left and right…yeah. Everything was okay now.
If Nash didn’t love his best friend so much, he’d want to kill Nat. Scratch that, he still wanted to kill her no matter what kind of history they had. It’d been hell watching Rory sneaking glances at her phone all week, her agitation growing more and more with each passing day she obviously didn’t get a response from her sister.
The thing that really pissed him off was that he knew if he called Nat, she’d pick up. She was crazy and fun and loyal and would come running if something was wrong. But for all her good qualities, she had a glaringly negative one—she was a stubborn ass who refused to admit when she was wrong. And after spending so much time with Rory, he knew, without a doubt, Nat was wrong about her sister.
The trouble was, he couldn’t exactly tell her that.Hey, Nat, remember how you told me working with your sister was a bad idea and I shouldn’t do it? Rather than listen to you, I decided to fuck her instead…
