I shrugged. “It’s okay. You know we weren’t all that close.”
“Still.”
“I appreciate that.”
She picked her glass up and strode over to the dining roompicture windows. Huge and facing the lake, no blinds or curtains hindered the moonlight. “This place is beautiful.”
No,shewas beautiful. Standing next to the window, the soft white light of the moon illuminated her features. Standing on her left, I got a full view of her high cheekbones, the glow highlighting the curves of her face and the length of her dark lashes. As tired and run-down as she looked, she was stunning. Miranda had always been knock-out gorgeous, a ten in my book.
Still was.
It was impossible to be around her again and not notice.
A thrill ran through my midsection, making every cell in my body buzz with awareness of her. This was not good. Miranda and I were done. Over. We’d closed the door, which made my imaginings all the more frustrating and inappropriate. I ran a hand over my head, forcing my gaze to the lake. My dad had a rep for crazy—but this—forcing my path to cross with Miranda’s was cruel. “It certainly is luxurious.”
“How much did it get appraised for?”
I took a long swig. “Guess.”
She bit her lip in thought.
I silently thanked the darkness. It lended to the first easy conversation we’d had since the meeting. Had it been daylight, she would’ve continued hiding.
“How about one point five million?”
I chuckled. “Try three.”
“Threemillion?”
“Just shy of it.”
She continued, slow and soft, like I might run from her if she spoke. “Sorry I’m not remarried yet. Not many men want a frumpy mom.”
An explosive response pressurized in my throat. Took all my effort to hold it in. Frumpy mom? Nothing could be furtherfrom the truth. She had no idea how desirable she was. Without even a drop of effort. I’d seen this woman in many forms—there wasn’t a single one I didn’t fantasize about.
The idea of another man…or men…I forced my jaw to unclench, letting my cheeks puff with an exhale. Those were thoughts I usually needed a few beers to help bury. Water wouldn’t do a single thing to shake those images. “You never answered my question about Kacey’s dad. Is he still in the picture?”
She bit her lip, looking down at the glass in her hands. She rubbed her thumb over the condensation, “No, he—he’s not.”
Oh. The revelation was less satisfying than I thought it would be. “What happened there?”
“It was a”—she blinked rapidly a few times—“one night mistake.”
I didn’t know what to say. What we had tried so hard for was granted with a “one night mistake?” Didn’t seem fair. To her, to me, or to Kacey.
Silence washed over us. To my surprise, she didn’t turn to leave. She stayed, training her eyes to the waves lapping the shore below.
“Let me ask you—do you happen to know why Dad included you on the will? That was a bit unexpected.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I feel uncomfortable even talking about it. I shouldn’t have claim to any of this.” She gripped her glass with both hands, elbows pulled into her side. From the moment I’d seen Miranda yesterday, she’d been tucked in. Her arms and hands never moved far from her core. But back when we were married, her hands always came out to dance—right along with her facial expressions. “You—” she faltered. “You didn’t deserve what Nathaniel did.” She pressed her lips together, as if the admission pained her.
“It’s not your fault. I should’ve figuredhe’d have some sort of catch or fine print. He’s always tried to stick it to me.” I took one more drink, the ice crashing to the bottom of my cup. “Sucks because I don’t really want to wait six years. I could use the money from the sale.”
“I mean, who couldn’t?”
“True. I bought a house a while back. It needs some updates. Like HVAC and new roof.” A humorless chuckle spilled out of me. “Not to mention the Nashville area is getting stupid expensive. Be nice to not have a mortgage.”
She harrumphed. “Everywhere is getting expensive.”
