Indie tugged the cell from her ear. Too loud…too freaking loud.
Before responding, she glanced around the grocery store to make sure no one was within listening distance. This town was too small. “Yes. We kissed. Well, I kissed him. And it was agreatkiss. But then, Colt’s kisses were always amazing. We never lacked in that department.”
Which was strange. Often when couples struggled with infertility, intimacy became almost like a chore. It was scheduled in and something youhadto do rather than wanted to do. But with Colt, it had never been like that.
“Okay, so how did the kiss end?” Clara asked. “Or did you—”
“No.” Indie lifted a carton of milk and set it in her basket. “We didn’t, and that was thanks to Colt’s self-restraint.Iwas a second away from ripping off my panties and doing it right there and then.”
She scrunched her eyes closed in chagrin. Apparently, one year without sex and she’d become a desperate woman. Desperate for Colt, at least.
“Did he say why he stopped it?” Clara asked.
“Because he doesn’t want to rush us. He wants me body and soul, and he wants to earn my trust back slowly.”
Clara sighed. “Oh, Colt…”
She frowned at the price of eggs. When had they become so expensive?
She mentally calculated the money in her bank, because yes, shewasliving paycheck to paycheck. She hadn’t touched the money from the sale of her Subaru yet. It was meant for IVF, but based on how the Honda was doing, she might just need to buy it back. Or at least get something similar.
“So what’s the next move?” Clara asked, sounding far too excited. “Has he texted yet?”
“No, he hasn’t.” And yes, she’d been pathetically checking every chance she got. Heck, she’d looked at her phone every hour, all day,expectinga text. Which was dumb. He was probably giving her space because it wasshewho’d lefthim. “But to be fair, I haven’t messaged him either.”
“You should.”
She nibbled her bottom lip as she grabbed a loaf of bread. “Maybe. Thingsaredifferent now. Colt’s home. We’re not doing IVF. And even though he’s living with his mother, things might be different with her.” Ha, and pigs could fly.
“Exactly.”
Like the very mention of the woman had conjured her up, Sylvia Reed stepped into the aisle.
Indie barely held in the groan as she met her mother-in-law’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Clara asked.
Okay. Maybe she hadn’t held in the groan. “Sylvia’s here. And she’s walking straight toward me.”
This time, Clara groaned. “I’m sorry. But maybe this is your chance to see if she’s changed at all.”
In the couple weeks since she’d last seen the woman? Doubtful.
“Chat later, Clara.” She hung up as Sylvia stopped in front of her. “Hi, Sylvia.”
“Indie. It’s so nice to see you. How are you?”
Even when Sylvia was nice, there was something…off about her. Like her question was almost condescending. “I’m good, thank you. How areyou?”
“Well, now that my boy’s home, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”
Yeah, Indie was sure she was. Sylvia had always had this strange dependence on Colt. Maybe because his father had left when he was eight, and then it was just the two of them. She’d once read that when boy moms didn’t get what they needed from their partner, they sometimes sought emotional fulfillment from their sons, and Indie had always wondered if that was what was going on with Sylvia.
“It’s nice that he’s home,” Indie said politely. “If you’ll excuse—”
“Have you two spent any time together?”
Wasn’t Colt living with her? Wouldn’thehave told her? “We’ve seen each other a couple of times.”
