“You know, you don’t have to finish,” Indie said, always the smart one.
“I absolutely do. Holden just watches, waiting for me to pull out. I’m determined not to prove him or my brothers right.”
“Clara…they’re—”
“Don’t say they’re just looking out for me. I don’t need a shadow at a community run. He’s the fastest and fittest there. He should be leading the group, not lagging behind watching me.”
A soft smile curved Indie’s lips. “It’s kind of sweet.”
“You sound like my mother.”
They were about to step inside when Indie touched her arm. “Clara, I know you don’t like it when Holden and your brothers get overprotective. But they care about you. Weallcare about you.”
She ran her finger over the seam of her high-waisted jeans. She’d gone casual, tucking in a T-shirt and pairing it with heels.
“I know they care about me,” she said softly. “It’s just…I fought the cancer.”
“No, you kicked cancer’s butt.”
“I did. And that made me feel strong and resilient, and when the guys hover, they make me feel a bitlessstrong.”
“Oh, Clara, I can understand that.” Indie slipped some hair behind Clara’s ear. “But they know how strong you are. They just have protector in their DNA.”
“You’re probably right.”
“Of course, I am.” Indie tilted her head toward the door. “But we can still drink some huckleberry martinis while thinking violent thoughts about them.”
Clara laughed. Huckleberry martinis were Indie’s favorite. Clara didn’t really have a favorite because she didn’t drink very often, but she’d have at least one glass tonight.
They stepped inside, immediately hit by loud, booming music, and the competing noise of voices and clinking glasses. The bar was warm, filled with so many people there was barely room to move.
Indie took her hand. “Let’s get a pitcher.”
That was something locals loved about CJ’s—almost any cocktail could be bought by the pitcher.
Five minutes later, they were standing at a table, two glasses filled with martinis and a jug in the middle.
Clara looked at her cousin. “Okay, your turn. How are you doing?”
Indie ran her finger around the rim of the glass. “Actually, I did something.”
“A good something?”
“I sent Colt the divorce papers.”
Clara straightened. “You did?”
They’d been separated for almost a year, but neither of them had started the divorce process. In fact, they hadn’t really spoken in the last twelve months…well, Indie hadn’t spoken. Colt had texted. Called. Emailed. And Indie had always said the same thing. That nothing had changed. That it hadn’t worked between them.
Indie nodded. “Yeah. I decided it was time.”
The pain in Indie’s voice was hard to hear. “How do you feel?”
“I was hoping I’d feel good. The end of a chapter. I thought maybe it would give me some closure. But that was probably naive of me. It will probably always hurt.”
Clara swallowed. “You’ll always love him.”
“But love wasn’t enough. Not for us, anyway. And I can’t go back to that dark place I was in a year ago.” Indie shook her head. “Let’s talk about something happier—like the budding love between you and Holden.”
