Oh my goodness, how long were she and Grady standing there listening to Ember and me?
I place my hand to my forehead. “I don’t know if I want to see you,” I mumble as I climb into my car.
Chapter 5
Shelby
Before Brody, when it was just Drew and me, I used to bake. It started out small, baking for friends and family, but they started paying me to bake cakes for their birthdays and kids’ parties. I even thought about opening my own bakery on Main Street. I mean, what else does a girl in a small town do? Drew loved the idea mainly because he got to try out all my recipes. ‘Shelby’s Sugar Shack,’ he playfully named the shop.
I stopped baking when he stopped tasting. I buy cupcakes and scones for Brody now, even though I can bake them myself, so when Emma asks me to bake the cake for Dylan’s baby shower, I’m surprised. How do I do something that reminds me so much of Drew? Am I wrong to feel a small tinge of excitement at the thought of it?
“I don’t bake anymore,” I busy myself rearranging the cups on the counter.
“I know that, but I figured I’d ask anyway.” Emma is pushy like that, not in a bad way. In fact, it makes her so much more loveable. She sips on her wine, casting a glance at Desi.
I got closer to the Malone clan after Drew died. They were all kind and loving, treating Brody and me like family. They were there when my own family was not. I wonder if I would have gotten through the last few years without their friendship. I turn toward the ladies in my living room, grateful for their presence, and downing my wine in one gulp.
“We should go out, like to a bar, and get blackout drunk,” I blurt before I can stop myself. I know how out of character that is. I am the homebody.
“My husband is the police chief, party animal.” Emma cocks a brow.
“All the more reason to do it. If we get in trouble, Grant can get us out; plus, Grady and Dylan are babysitting Brody tonight. When the baby comes, that is definitely going to taper down.”
My two friends glance at each other, a wicked look on Emma’s face.
“We’ll do it.” She cocks a brow and utters, “If...” Emma looks at Desi before continuing. “You bake the cake for the baby shower.” They both look at me.
I weigh out the options and getting shitfaced wins out.
“Fine,” I say, and we shake on it.
Sunnyville women don’t call cabs. Instead, we call Grumpy Grant, who drives our giggling trio to The Dig. His folks are at their house, so he decides to come into the karaoke bar with us. That turns into a date night for Grant and Emma pretty quickly, with Desi and I sitting at the bar watching them make out in the booth.
“Tell me Rez is not on his way,” I ask Desi.
“No way, I need a night out without him.” I breathe a sigh of relief. The last thing I need is to be the third wheel, well, the fifth wheel if Rez appears.
We order shots and knock them back one after the next. I haven’t felt this free or drunk in a long time. There is no room for nights out when you’re a mom. You do mom things, and you show up for your kids, even when you can’t show up for yourself. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but sometimes going at it alone is fucking hard.
“I needed this,” I tell Desi.
“Yeah, you did. Are we gonna do karaoke?” She smirks.
“Why the hell not?” I yell over the chatter. I suck at singing, but who actually cares.
I scan the bar and feel a flutter in my belly when I seehimsitting in a corner. Ember’s hard to miss. He has been since the moment I laid eyes on him in Grady’s garden and then that whole run-in at the station. Men like him always stand out, tall, dark, handsome. He’s probably Latin. That dark hair and eyes that look into the soul, and those lips. Oh, those lips. I can think of a few places I’d like them to kiss. God, what the fuck am I even thinking?
His hair is now covered in a baseball cap, and the top buttons of his shirt are loose. There’s a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table in front of him. He clings to the glass in his hands, like it’s his salvation.
“Pretty, isn’t he?” Desi expresses over the loud music in the bar.
“What?” I ask, looking up at her, slightly disorientated.
“Ember. He might be the prettiest boy in town. Gives all our boys a run for their money. Even Grady.” She cocks a brow.
“I haven’t noticed any of them,especiallyGrady,” I add the last part just in case, taking a sip of my beer, feeling headier than I’m used to.
There was a time when it crossed my mind, a year after Drew died when Grady was around too much, and everything hurt. But, the thought of it made me hate myself more than I hated the man who survived. Time and his adoration for my son changed that. Now, Grady is just my friend, one of my best friends, in fact.
