She blinked in surprise.“What?”
“I unloaded the shotgun the last time I was here.Did you reload it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t remember?”
She shrugged and drained her whiskey.
“You shouldn’t keep loaded guns in the house.”
“A woman’s got to protect herself,” she murmured.
“Mary had it in the kitchen yesterday.When I came inside the house, she fired a warning shot through the screen door.”
“Did she really?Good for her.”
“Alcohol and guns don’t mix, Mother.Accidents happen.”
This statement cut through the boozy, careless façade she’d cultivated.Her eyes filled with tears.Chico hopped down from her lap, as if sensing her need to flee.She set the tumbler aside and rose on unsteady legs.
Wade stifled the urge to stand with her and offer his support, because he knew she wouldn’t accept it.She was a proud woman, too stubborn to admit her weaknesses.She wouldn’t talk about her drinking problem.She’d flinch away from him, like always, and he couldn’t deal with another rejection right now.He couldn’t endure any more evidence of her cold feelings toward him.
“I’ll tell Mary to make room in the office,” she said, and walked away.
Chico trotted after her.
A few minutes later, someone turned off the porch lights, leaving him in the dark.
Chapter Eight
Meredith woke ina fetal position, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle.
She often dreamed of the final fight with Tripp, the one that had left her broken.But bad dreams hadn’t roused her tonight.It was something even more common, and quite mundane.A familiar pain radiated from her lower abdomen.
Stifling a groan, she rose from the bed and tiptoed to the bathroom.She always had mild cramps on the first day of her period, with more intense symptoms midcycle.The medicine cabinet was stocked with over-the-counter painkillers, so she helped herself before she ventured into the kitchen for a hot water bottle.There would be no sleep until the discomfort abated.
She found the receptacle, filled it with water, and stuck it in the microwave.She also took down a mug and a box of tea from the cabinet.As she waited for the bottle to heat, a sharp cramp made her double over.She pressed a palm to her stomach, gripping the countertop with her other hand.When the microwave emitted three beeps, she removed the water bottle and shuffled toward the kitchen table.
A large, looming figure emerged from the living room like an apparition from a nightmare.If she’d had the breath to scream, she would have.Wade entered the kitchen, his fine eyes bloodshot and his thick hair disheveled.
Not Tripp.Wade.
Meredith collapsed into the closest chair, laughing weakly.Somehow, she’d forgotten he was here.
“What’s wrong?”he asked.
She tucked the water bottle into her waistband.“Cramps.”
He didn’t flinch at the mention of female problems.He just nodded.He was wearing sweatpants again, with a University of Texas, Austin T-shirt.Tonight, her attire was more revealing than his.She wore loose pajama pants and a ribbed tank top that left very little to the imagination.
“Can I get you anything?”
“I’m fine,” she said.“I was going to make a cup of tea.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Don’t you have to be up early?”
