“What the?—”
That’s not what I was expecting at all. My palm flies to my forehead as my mind spins with this news.
“Yeah, I thought that might shock you. I’m pretty sure it shocked the hell out of Brooks, too. I only know about it because Linds ran into him at the grocery store. He was trying to buy diapers, and the boy didn’t have a clue. She helped him out.”
I wouldn’t have a clue either.
“I should probably give him a call. We didn’t really get to talk before I left. He was . . . distant. Guess I know why now.”
“Yeah,” she hums.
“And your dad? He’s doing all right?” I hope she’s been giving everything a lot of thought and realize her parents have this under control.
“It’s been thirty-six hours, Hunter. He’s the same as he was when you left.” Naturally, she gives me a snarky response, and absolutely nothing that gives me a clue as to what she’s thinking about, well, about us. I suppose I should suck it up and ask.
“And yes, I’m still thinking about it,” she says, somehow reading my mind.
I sink into the bed, a little deflated but not despairing.
“Okay, I’m glad. Anything I can do to . . .” I stop myself from saying the wordspersuade you.
“I promise I’m really giving it serious thought, Hunter.” Her response feels final, and I mean to let it drop. But then I squeeze in one more little thing—in my favor, I hope.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say. “And I love you.”
Chapter 26
Renleigh
I flop back into the double bed I’m sharing with my sister, and she purses her lips as she stares at me. I’m not sure if it’s because she heard that last bit from Hunter through the phone or because she’s mad I won’t let her have more than one glass of wine tonight.
“You told him you were taking this seriously,” she says, holding up the blue crayon and the pad of construction paper she and I are using to make myvery seriouspros and cons list. I lift my head from the mattress to meet her gaze.
“The list is serious. It’s not my fault we don’t have the best tools to work with.” I lift my palms, then let them flop down on the bed on either side of me.
“Renleigh Jamison Blackwood, your serious list includes the following phrases: He has abs. I like his eyes. The sex is mind-blowing. Texas is far from home. Dad needs me. Lindsey needs me. This is not a serious list, Ren.”
“How is it not serious,” I challenge as I push myself to sit up.
“Well, first of all, I do not need you,” she says.
I let my head fall to one side as my mouth makes a straight line, and my eyes haze.
“Don’t you look at me like that. I’m not fragile. I’m going to figure this out.” She draws a line through that item on my list. “Dad also does not need you. He never has.”
Her chin drops as she hits me with a hard stare this time, the same kind she uses on the boys when she wants them to knock it off and listen. It’s effective, even though she’s wrong again.
She draws a line through my Dad item, and I hiss.
“We’ll come back to that. You’ll lose. Next.”
She taps the crayon on Texas being far from home and pops her gaze right back to mine, drawing a line through it without looking.
“It is far, Linds,” I whine.
“Hey, Salt-N-Pepa?” That’s what Lindsey calls the voice system on her phone. It’s a hack her husband—correction,ex-husband—did for her. “How long does it take to drive from Sweetwater Springs, Oklahoma to Dallas?”
“By automobile, the trip to Dallas from Sweetwater Springs, Oklahoma takes approximately three hours and fourteen minutes.”
