Because he used to do chores with Jo, I remembered.
“Appreciate it.” Dan shifted his gaze to me. “Good to have you back.”
“Thanks. Good to be back.” I made a face. “Well. Not good, exactly. It’s...”
“Important,” Dan said.
I nodded.Oh, Beth...
Trey carried my bag into the dark, quiet house. I turned on a light. The shadows scattered, but the emptiness was still there. A Beth-size hole opened in my chest.
“I can stay,” Trey said into the silence.
I sagged with gratitude. “What about your grandfather?”
“He’ll be fine. Dee is there if he needs anything.”
“Where will you sleep?” I asked, and flushed. Stupid question. Naturally, he expected to sleep with me.
“Wherever you want.” He touched my neck. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”
A little sizzle sparked from that light touch, radiating from his fingertips, spreading warmth through my body. So, okay. Maybe sex was the natural response to crisis—something about affirming life or the survival of the species.
But there was no way I was sleeping with Trey in my parents’ bed. Or in the attic that used to be Jo’s. Or in the twin beds I once shared with Beth.
We laid down together in Meg’s old room, him stripped to his boxers, me in an old T-shirt. The mattress dipped in the middle, making us roll together. He smelled good, I thought, pillowing my head on his hard arm. His hand rubbed idle circles on my back, and in that moment, I didn’t have to think. I didn’t need to act. I was home. So... Sex. Okay. It could be a relief to feel something besides worry and grief. At least sex would be a distraction.
He stroked my hair, pushing a strand from my face to tuck behind my ear. “Go to sleep.”
I almost rolled my eyes.As if.
You want to shower?”
I opened bleary eyes to see Trey’s face smiling at me at very close range across the pillow. The morning sun made patterns on the wall beyond his head. “You... I... Um.”
He grinned. “I’ll go first. Don’t want you to drown in there.”
He kissed my nose and got out of bed. I watched him go, his messy, dark hair, his lean, smooth back, the indent where his boxers dippedlow, and my insides ran with colors like a paint box in the rain, tender shades of yellow, rose, and crimson.
It felt like we’d passed some kind of test or barrier last night, moving into fresh and unfamiliar territory. He was not only the family friend who picked me up at the airport. He was more than the childhood crush I sometimes had sex with.
Theodore James Laurence III. My Trey.
“Hey,” I called softly. “Thanks for being here.” Did he hear the echo of his words from his grandfather’s hospital room?
He turned in the doorway, his smile lighting his dark eyes. “Always.”
Always, here in Bunyan? I wondered.Alwayshere for our family? Or... I hugged my pillow tight. Here for me.Always.
I heard the water turn on in the bathroom and went downstairs to make coffee.
While it brewed, I checked my phone, scrolling through likes and comments on social media, reading texts from my sisters and mother. Beth was still on an IV. She’d eaten a piece of toast for breakfast. Hard to tell from Mom’s text if this was good news or not.
There were no messages, no replies, from Beth.
A long black limo slid down the drive and parked by the barn.
Colt. She must have called him. Texted him.
