He doesn’t grin. “Dude, you’re in serious shit with the Labelles. Did you ever stop to think that maybe they’ll use your whoring ways against you? Maybe it’s time to actually spend time with a woman outside of bed.”
Holly and I never actually made it to my bed, but I know that’s not what he means. My mind drifts to Holly trying to help me make cookies, then her dealing with her piece-of-work grandmother and helping Harry. I never would have done any of that with the other women I’ve slept with over the last six years.
But Holly doesn’t do relationships either. Maybe that’s why I felt safe sleeping with her in my apartment. And yet…part of me is worried I’ll get attached to her, and she’ll leavemein the dust.
“I don’t want to talk about Holly,” I say, rinsing the rag off in the sink.
Amusement fills his eyes. “Funny, we weren’t talking about Holly.”
Oh. Shit.
I’ve got to change the topic…and fast. “I didn’t just invite you over for pizza and video games. There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”
“Have you figured out which of Rory’s attorneys you’re going to use to fight the Labelles?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t let the money thing get in the way of your decision,” he says, pulling out a kitchen chair and taking a seat. “Rory told you he’s got it covered.”
Heat sears my chest. “I hate that I’m using his money to defend my right to keep my kid.”
“Rory has more money than he knows what to do with,” Logan says, waving his hand. “Besides, he’s your friend. He wants to help you.”
All true, but it makes me feel like I’m taking advantage of our friendship, even if Rory would never miss the money. There’s also a voice in my head that insists that if I were a good father, I wouldn’t need to let someone else help me keep my kid.
There might be another way.
“Someone offered to buy the brewery,” I say, focusing on scrubbing the counter.
Logan doesn’t say anything for several seconds, so I look up to see if he heard me. He’s regarding me with a stunned expression.
“Who?” he demands, sounding pissed.
“Deacon something or other. He’s been in twice. He gave me insulting offers both times, but I can’t help wondering if I should consider selling, if not to him then to someone else.”
Logan’s face reddens. “Where the fuck is this coming from?”
“Jane,” I say, resting my hand on the counter, sounding just as defeated as I feel. “A brewery’s no place to raise a kid.”
“You fucking love this place,” Logan says insistently, getting up from his chair to move closer to me. “Jane loves this place. It’s herhome, Cole.”
“Listen to yourself,” I say, my voice tight. “An eight-year-old’s home is in a brewery? Seems like that would hurt me more than my whoring ways if the Labelles really take me to court.”
His mouth tips up into a small smile as I throw his words back at him but it fades just as quickly. “Are you seriously considering selling?”
Am I? This whole thing stinks of three-day-old fish, but I can’t help but think that I should give the idea some consideration. For Jane’s sake. I wouldn’t sell it to Deacon, though.
“What’s this guy’s last name?” Logan demands, fury in his eyes.
“Don’t know. He didn’t say.”
His mouth drops. “The guy gave you two offers but didn’t tell you his last name? Or even leave a card?”
Pushing out a huge breath, I shrug. “Yep.”
His hands clench at his sides. “We have to do something about this. We have to find out who this guy is and why he’s making an offernow.”
I hesitate, then say, “Holly’s looking into it.”
