“What? Hang on, lemme step all the way outside. I don’t think I heard you right. I thought you said downpour.”
He cleared his throat. No going back now. “I did.”
Years ago, when they were young and stupid and all three of them on a mission to get themselves killed—aka trying to entertain themselves in a town the size of a walnut—Nat had nearly drowned in the river because of a flash summer storm. The only reason she hadn’t was because he and Asher had come immediately when she’d called for help. That night, amidst promises not to tell a soul—least of all their parents—they’d instituted the code word. Anyone could use it at any time for any reason, and the others would come running, no questions asked.
Knowing it was there, knowing he had the kind of friends he could call on and would drop everything at a moment’s notice to be there when he needed them was the best feeling in the world. But knowing it was there had always been enough for Nash, and he’d never actually had to use it.
He’d come to Nat’s rescue more than once, though—bailing her out of jail because she couldn’t call anyone in her family, bringing her gas on a deserted road she never should’ve been traveling, picking her up from a date gone wrong with a guy who’d made her bright and vibrant face turn pale and withdrawn… Each and every time, he’d shown up. No questions asked.
And, just like he’d hoped, Nat didn’t disappoint. “When do you need me?”
Rory paced her kitchen, trying to take slow, measured breaths to the rhythm of the ringing phone. She’d read somewhere that controlled breathing could reduce anxiety and anger and help one maintain a calm demeanor.
That shit was just not working. Rory’s anger was still sky-high, her teeth clenched as she recalled what Ella had told her when she’d dropped the girls at Mimi’s for a sleepover. Rory could handle a lot, but it turned out she lost her mind when her daughters were dragged into a situation they didn’t need to be involved in.
“Hello?”
Rory stopped pacing and clenched her fist. “Carol Ann? Hey, this is Rory Haven. How’re you doin’?”
“Rory? Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise! I’m just fine. I want to thank you again for bringin’ your lemon bars to the bake sale yesterday. They sold in a flash!”
Of course they had. Her lemon bars were delicious. “I’m happy to hear that. And actually, the bake sale is why I’m callin’.”
That damn bake sale might as well be a den of gossip for all the sordid half-truths that got passed around there. Rory was ashamed to admit she’d once been on that side of it, running her mouth right along with Carol Ann about things that didn’t concern her and were none of her business.
And hadn’t that just come around to bite her in the ass?
“Oh, all right,” Carol Ann said. “What’s on your mind?”
“Ella mentioned y’all were chattin’ up a storm about my little situation.” Rory waited, downright giddy when Carol Ann sucked in a sharp breath. Gossipers weren’t used to being confronted, and they relied on their subjects to be too timid to approach. Well, fuck that. They brought her daughters into it, whether intentionally or not, and she wasn’t going to sit back and let them think that was okay. “Isoappreciate y’all’s concern for me out here on my own, but I wanna let y’all know that I’m doin’ just fine.We’redoin’ just fine. No mopin’ about or bein’ depressed.”
“Oh, well…we just— We were—”
“Concerned for my well-being, obviously,” Rory said dryly.
“Yes, of course! We’re just worried is all. Wanna make sure y’all’re doin’ okay.”
“Well, there’s no need for that. Y’all don’t need to waste your breath or energy frettin’ about li’l old me,” she said with a fake cheeriness. “And I’d especially appreciate it if you didn’t do all that worryin’ within earshot of my seven-year-old and her friends.”
And that right there was the kicker. Rory could’ve let the whole thing roll off her back if Ella hadn’t approached her about it. Hadn’t held Rory’s face between her little hands, expression utterly serious as she’d studied her and asked her if she was really moping and being depressed over her daddy and Sarah Beth. The question had nearly gutted Rory. Her girls had enough to worry about trying to traverse this new life, without concerning themselves with the made-up problems busybodies attached to their momma.
Carol Ann cleared her throat. “Certainly. I apologize that she heard that. We were just—”
“Yes, I know.Concernedfor me. Bless your hearts. Now that we’ve got this all settled, would you mind passin’ that along to your friends? I’d do it myself, but I’m a little busy out here, wallowin’ in all my tears.”
Satisfaction rolled through Rory as she pressed the end button without waiting for Carol Ann’s response. She set her phone on the counter, unable to stop the smile from overtaking her face.
“I am so turned on right now.”
Rory whipped around to find Nash standing in her dining room, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe and all the yummy places in between. She lifted an eyebrow. “Momma bears get you goin’ now, is that right?”
He closed the distance between them, wrapped an arm around her waist, and tugged her until their bodies were flush. “Not all of ’em. Just this one.” Dipping his head, he pressed a soft, sweet kiss on her lips. “You got anyone else you can call and yell at?”
Rory laughed, and Nash captured the sound with his mouth. How was this so easy with him? They butted heads, yes. They had disagreements about the correct materials to use in a client’s home, or the minute details of a piece of custom furniture. He riled her up like no one else could. Like no one else ever had. But…maybe that was exactly what she needed.
“What’re you doin’ here?” she asked against his lips. “I thought you were stayin’ late at the Shaws’ to finish up the outdoor kitchen. You know we’re startin’ the Taylors’ remodel next week, and we can’t push it back. We’re already booked out too far.”
“Got it covered, boss.”
