short—and she tucks it behind her ear.
She’s crying. She’s flushed.
Good Lord, is she beautiful. She’s got these gorgeous green eyes with long, pale eyelashes, and even longer legs that are hard not to stare at in those fucking skinny jeans she’s wearing.
The only sign of the banker in her is her cashmere sweater. Other than that, she’s in white sneakers and a Barbour jacket. No jewelry, no makeup. A little preppy, a lot pretty.
And that dimple in her left cheek that shows up when she shoots me a smile—
“Don’t be a wierdo and imprint on her, all right?” Annabel says, taking the car seat from Hank and setting it on the bench beside the door. Maisie’s eyes, the same shade as her mama’s, peek out from a cocoon of blankets.
“Please.” I unbuckle the car seat straps and tickle her tummy. She giggles, and I grin. She’s got Bel’s dimple. “Everyone knows only shirtless, shape-shifting werewolves imprint on babies, Annabel.”
“Who made you the Twilight expert, Beau?”
“You did, when you made me read all seven books during our Tropical Storm Michael Word Porn meeting.” I lift Maisie above my head and give her a smile. “Your mommy went through a strange phase in her early thirties where she crushed on teenage supernatural creatures, didn’t she? It was terrible for Uncle Beau.”
“There were only four books.”
“That’s all? Welp. Sure felt like seven.”
Annabel gives me a gentle shove with her elbow. Then she leans her head on my shoulder, and the two of us look at the baby. Annabel sighs.
She sounds tired. I hate it.
“House is yours,” I say, “for as long as you want to stay. You’re gonna tell me it’s too much—”
“Because it is.”
“And I’m gonna say I want you to get whatever it is you need up here, and a lot of it. Sleep, food, a break from the baby with a good book—there’s no better place for it.”
Annabel sighs again. “Thank you. Sincerely. I’m not even sure what the hell I need anymore, but I’m gonna try to figure it out.”
Her mom steps onto the porch, sliding her sunglasses into her hair. Taking in the three of us together, she smiles.
I don’t miss her meaning. Lots of people—Lizzie included—have wondered aloud why Annabel and I never ended up together.
Because.
It’s a shit answer. But there are a million reasons we’ve remained good friends, and only that.
“Mrs. Rhodes!” I cradle the baby in one arm and loop the other around Annabel’s mama. “Thank you for coming to Blue Mountain and for helping Annabel. You look better than ever, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”
She smiles—it’s Annabel’s smile, and now Maisie’s, too.
“You know you can call me Lizzie. And you look good too, Beau. Your farm is beautiful.”
“So is your grandbaby.”
“She’s such a doll, isn’t she?” Lizzie holds out her hands, and I pass her the baby. “I’ll take her so you two can catch up.”
I bend down to pick up my clipboard, my knees cracking. I glance at the note I have scrawled across the yellow legal pad. 1 PM. Good. I remembered the right time. The therapist was onto something; writing shit down is helping.
“I’ve actually gotta run to a meeting with my marketing team,” I say. “But we’re hosting a bonfire tonight down by the lake at sundown. Hank will be playin’ guitar, and Samuel is serving up whiskey-spiked cider. Y’all are invited if you’d like to join. My mama’s offered to babysit, if you’re okay with that. Lizzie, she’s so jealous you’re a grandma. She’s been waiting quite a spell for one of us to give her grandbabies. When I told her y’all were coming, the first thing she said was she wanted to meet Miss Maisie.”
“Tell your mama to come over, then,” Lizzie says. “She and I will hang with the baby while you two go have some drinks.”
“You sure, Mom?” Annabel asks.
“Positive.”
Annabel looks up at me. “I don’t know how long I’ll last tonight, but I’d love to come.”
Searching her eyes, I know she’s hurting. She’s been humbled. I know that. I feel it. Recognizing myself in her pain knocks the wind out of me. Like I’ve been taken out midair by a six-six offensive lineman and left for dead on the turf.
I wish knowing that kind of pain, seeing it, didn’t scare me so bad. Makes me feel like a coward. I just—
I’m lost.
But I cannot lose myself in Annabel. I may want her, but she needs me. Everyone needs me to keep it together. For