“What’s wrong?” Winnie asks.
I stand up and run a hand through my still damp hair and then scratch my beard. “My crew is sick. Both of them. So I’m on my own today.”
“I can help,” she volunteers.
I smile. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. It’s just going to be a long day.”
“Holden…”
I cough. I still have a headache too. And I need coffee and something greasy to help absorb this vicious hangover but I don’t have time. Not now that I’m flying solo. I walk back over to the bed, lean down and kiss her. “I have to get started. Your brother is coming this weekend.”
“He is?” She looks dumbfounded.
“Yeah. He hasn’t told you?”
She shakes her head. “I have to call him.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?” I ask.
Her expression grows sheepish. “The day I was supposed to get on the plane back to Toronto.”
I’m stunned. “You didn’t call him when I told you he knew you were here?”
She shakes her head no. “He tried calling me but that’s what voicemail is for.”
“Call him. I’ll see you in a few.” I kiss her again and try to ignore the stress and concentrate on the fact that this beautiful, amazing woman loves me.
21
Winnie
As soon as Holden leaves, I dig my phone out of the pocket of his hoodie that I’m wearing. I find Jude’s number in my phone, under “Putz” and hit dial as I crawl out of bed and move to the kitchen. I open the fridge and try to figure out what I can throw together for Holden for breakfast.
“Hi, Win.”
“Hi yourself. Were you going to tell me you’re coming to visit?”
“Were you going to tell me your banging my contractor?”
“No. It’s none of your business,” I say firmly, trying not to sound shocked that he knows. I’m going to have to murder Sadie or Dixie later, whichever one told him. Maybe killing them both would be easiest. “Why are you coming?”
“Why are you banging the contractor?”
I grit my teeth. He’s in one of those snarky moods that he’s been perfecting since he was a preteen. Back then he used to parrot back everything I said on our twelve-hour drives to Maine from Toronto and it would get me so mad I would scream. If he wants to play, I’ll play to win. “Well, where can I start…he’s built like a tank and hung like a horse.”
“Winnie!”
“Not to mention that scruffy beard and the way it feels between my—”
“Why are you turning into Sadie?” he yells in anguish. “Goddamn it. You used to be so…”
“Boring? Lame? Timid?”
“I was going to say dependable, calm, uncomplicated,” Jude says.
“Like a dog you adopt from the ASPCA.” I roll my eyes and pull some eggs from the fridge.
Jude chuckles self-consciously. “Okay, I’m not great with words. You’re the articulate one, not me. But seriously, Win, talk to me. What happened with Ty?”
