Page 23 of Love, Lies, and Whiskey

“Mint chocolate chip.” She transferred several to a plate and set it on the table for him. “Want some milk?”

He looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “I’m not five.” He opened the fridge and took out a Dr Pepper. “Are we still fixing the barn and fences Saturday, or…?” He grabbed a cookie and took a bite.

Her grandmother had been incredibly generous to leave the mortgage-free property to her, but she hadn’t been the best at keeping things up the last several years. The house wasn’t in too bad shape, although little things kept breaking and it definitely needed updating, but the barn and fences hadn’t fared quite so well. Her grandmother must have either planned on having the barn fixed or had hired someone to do it and they’d backed out, because the wood and supplies were all there.

“Yes. They’re calling for rain Sunday, and I want to patch the holes in the roof and the siding before it gets here. Why? Are you planning a hot date?”

He scoffed and pulled out his phone. He thumbed out another text, then shoved his phone into his pocket again.

“Who are you texting?”

“A friend.” He finished his cookie.

“Does your friend have a name?”

He bit into another cookie and spoke around a mouthful. “Layla.”

“Jade’s niece?” Lucas had gone with her to Jade’s house a few weeks ago, and they’d met two of Jade’s sweet nieces at the barn, Layla, who was fourteen, and Adriana, who was a few years younger. They were getting ready to go on a trail ride with Jade’s husband, Rex, a strikingly handsome rancher with the biggest muscles Juliette had ever seen. That is, until she’d seen Cowboy outside the hospital.

“Yeah. She goes to my school. She’s cool for a freshman.”

Juliette had talked with Lucas about the birds and the bees a few years ago and had reiterated the importance of being careful when he’d started high school. But in California, he’d always hung out with groups of friends. As far as she knew, he hadn’t been into any one girl. This was new territory. She treaded carefully, picking up a cookie, trying to act casual and not like she had bigger issues to discuss with him. “Is this a friendship, or are you two an item?”

“Mom.” He stuffed the rest of his cookie in his mouth.

She smiled at his exasperation. “What? I’m just asking.”

“Whatever. We’re friends, okay? Don’t get weird about it.”

“Okay, no weirdness. I’m glad you’re friends. But she’s my boss’s niece, and she’s young, so please be good to her.”

“I’m not a dick.” He snagged another cookie.

“I wasn’t implying that you are.” She didn’t want to fight with him, especially now. “I need to talk to you about something. Can we sit down for a minute?”

“Am I in trouble?” he asked tentatively.

He asked that every time she said they needed to talk, and it always made her wonder whether she’d missed something. On the heels of that came a bigger thought. It made sense that guys hated to hear the phrase we need to talk. Their reluctance probably came from times like this, when a parent had to talk about something big. “No, you’re not in trouble.”

His brows slanted. “Are you sick or something?”

“No. Why would you ask that?”

“Because the last time you made cookies and said we had to talk was when Grandma Hazel died.”

Her chest constricted. “Nobody is dying. Can we please sit down?”

“Yeah, hold on.” He put more cookies on his plate before sitting down.

Juliette’s stomach knotted as she pulled out a chair and sat down. She worried with her hands, wishing she’d never lied to him regardless of what she’d thought back then.

He ate another cookie, sitting back in his chair. It was hard to believe she was only a little older than he was now when she’d gotten pregnant. She’d felt so grown-up that summer with Seeley, making future plans together, excited about her life for the first time ever. As much as she wanted to hold Lucas when she told him the truth, to try to soften the blow, she couldn’t treat him like he was a little boy for this conversation. He was on the cusp of manhood, and he probably felt like he was grown-up, just as she had at that age.

He crossed his arms, drumming his fingers. It broke her heart knowing there was no barrier strong enough to block the hurt she was about to dole out. She’d spent last night and all of today figuring out how to tell him the truth, but now that she was looking at her boy’s sweet face, it was hard to remember what she’d come up with.

Her throat felt thick, anxiety prickling her skin. Mustering all of her courage, she said, “Honey, you know how I told you that my parents aren’t very nice people and that my father has been known to do some bad things?”

“Yeah. That’s why we don’t see them.”