The table went still.
May swallowed once, but she didn’t look away.
“Well, geez,” Amka drawled, setting her water down with deliberate care, “you must’ve been a real asshat for her to leave without saying a word.”
Ophelia looked Kyle up and down. “May’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. What did you do?”
Peter cleared his throat. “Okay. I can see this isn’t going to work out. Senator, why don’t we get some photos around town?”
“Yeah, sure,” Kyle said, though his gaze lingered on May a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll catch up with you later.” He turned and walked away.
Peter offered May an apologetic smile and followed. Jack hovered for a second, clearly uncomfortable. “This really isn’t going to work out, right?”
“No,” May said evenly.
“Okay.” He gulped. “Tell Ivy I’ll see her at Sam’s just after dinner. We can hangout for a little while. Thanks.” He turned and followed the other two out.
The door swung shut behind them, and the regular noise of the diner filled back in. Plates clattered. Gus barked orders from the kitchen. Someone laughed near the counter.
Ophelia watched them go over May’s shoulder. “What a jackass.”
Amka’s nostrils flared. “I’m shocked you dated him.”
“How did you know he was a jerk?” May asked. “He usually charms everybody. That’s his thing.”
“He’s not that good,” Ophelia noted.
“Not at all,” Amka agreed.
May let out a slow breath and finally smiled—really smiled. She felt steady again and surrounded by women who saw straight through a polished smile and weren’t afraid to say so.
Outside, a truck rumbled past the front windows, and sunlight flashed across the glass before settling again. Life in Knife’s Edge kept moving, with or without political campaigns or old mistakes.
May picked up her coffee and stared into it for a moment. Kyle had always made her feel slightly off balance. Ace never did that. He unsettled her for entirely different reasons. She took a sip and set the cup back down.
Now all she had to do was see where things went with Ace Osprey—and this time, she wasn’t running.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sitting with his brothers, Ace angled back in his chair at the round table closest to the stone fireplace at Sam’s, the heat pressing against one side of his body while the rest of him still carried the chill from outside. Sam’s always smelled like woodsmoke and spilled beer, with a trace of old varnish baked into the beams overhead. A couple of locals lingered at the far end of the bar, boots hooked on the rungs of their stools, low voices blending with the hum of the refrigeration units behind the counter.
Christian cleared his throat.
Ace looked over at him immediately. “You okay?”
Truth be told, Christian looked a little pale under the overhead lights.
“C?” Brock asked.
Christian looked at them. “Amka’s pregnant.”
Ace’s jaw almost hit the floor. For a split second, the crackle of the fire behind him seemed louder than everything else. “Oh, wow.”
“Congrats.” Damian slapped Christian on the back hard enough to jolt the table.
“Thanks.” Christian gave a tight nod. “Yep.” He did look faintly green.
Brock grinned. “Hey, that’s great news.”
