I glance down at my watch, groan internally when I see the time. It’s late, and I promised Brady we’d have dinner together. And now, alongside the pasta, I’ll be serving a heaping portion of shock. “I’m sorry, I have to go home.” I don’t say more. It’s another lie. One by omission, this time.
Shannon turns to Warren. “Would you mind going to the hotel and booking us a table for an hour from now? The man at check-in said they fill up early.”
Warren gives her a look. “Try being a little more obvious, Shannon.” Despite this, he listens to her. He kisses my cheek, his hand running the length of my forearm as he leans in.
I offer him a smile and watch as he goes. I wonder how long it will take him to gain back all his weight?
“So?” I tilt my head, waiting for Shannon to start with whatever it is she sent Warren away to say.
“Does Warren know you’ve moved on with someone else?”
I stare hard at her, my arms crossing in front of myself, as if I can block myself from the indignation I feel wafting off her. I don’t know how she knows about Brady, but I’m not going to bother asking.
My chin lifts an inch. “I haven’t told him yet.”
Her mouth curls into a hateful smile. “Don’t worry, the guy you moved on with already knows about Warren.”
My hands, limp at my sides, flex into fists. “How would you know that? Did you tell him? How do you even know who he is?”
“I didn’t tell him anything. He saw for himself.”
It’s not the answer I was expecting. “What do you mean?”
I hate the satisfaction on her face, the curve of her smile. “It was earlier, right after you saw Warren. A man was standing nearby with a guy and girl—”
Relief washes through me. I shake my head, certain. “Whoever you saw, it wasn’t the guy I’m dating.” Brady has two male friends in Lonesome, and so far that’s it.
Shannon cocks an eyebrow. “She was” —her hand hovers a couple inches off her flat stomach— “maybe four months pregnant. Barely showing. And it was definitely your guy. I noticed him, because who wouldn’t? Tall, dark hair, muscles and a face like that?” She laughs. “You clearly have a type. Anyway, I was watching him when he turned and saw you. You didn’t see him because you were too busy getting reacquainted with my brother’s lips.”
“Nooo,” I mutter, my voice low and guttural.
“Yesss,” Shannon purrs. “If Warren’s return presented a problem for you, then I think you managed to solve it all on your own.”
“I have to go.” I grab my purse and shopping bag from the bench and jog away, not waiting for Shannon’s response. By the time I get to Grandma’s Jeep, my hairline is sweaty.
The wind from the drive home dries the sweat. I park the Jeep, skipping the house and going straight to cabin seven.
I knock once. Twice. Three times.
No answer.
From my purse I find the list I used to shop yesterday, and I tear it in half. Grabbing a pen, I write a note to Brady.
It’s not what you think. I love you.
I slip it in the crack between the door and the doorframe. Before I go, I lay a palm on the door and bow my head, saying a quick prayer.
On my way to the main house I check my phone, hoping for something,anything, even an angry voicemail, but there’s nothing. I call him twice, but it rings and rings and then voicemail picks up.
I don’t know what to do. I guess I’ll start with dinner.
My grandma comes into the kitchen just as I’m taking the ingredients from the bag. I stop what I’m doing and fold myself into her.
“Addison?” she asks, patting my back.
“I think I may have ruined it.” My voice is muffled by her shoulder.
“Ruined what, honey?”
