The next morning, Talulah bent over Debbie’s hospital bed to kiss the fuzzy head of the new baby. Scott was out hunting down something for breakfast, which had given Talulah a moment alone with her sister and niece. “I have to go. But it was great getting to spend the night with you.”
“Really?” Debbie said, sounding surprised. “Because I don’t think you slept very well.”
“It was comforting just to be with family, especially for such a special event.”
“I’m glad you could make it. That means a lot to me.”
“I’m sorry Mom’s not here,” Talulah said, taking her hand.
“It’s okay,” she insisted. “She’ll see Abigail when she gets home.”
Talulah refrained from pointing out that Abby would be a year old by then.
“Are you heading back to Coyote Canyon?” Debbie asked.
“Not yet.” After what had happened with the broken window and that car creeping by her place so late, Talulah had locked up the house as tightly as she could and removed the Hide-A-Key. She’d thought she’d be coming back alone and wanted to do what she could to avoid any nasty surprises from Charlie or Averil. But that meant Paul hadn’t been able to get into the house, not without breaking out more of the window and trying to climb in over the sharp glass. When she returned his message last night, he’d told her he just rented a motel room for the night so he could get some rest. “I’m going to shower at your place, if that’s okay. Then I’ll meet Paul for breakfast.”
“Here in Billings?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought I was dreaming last night when you told me he’d driven to Montana.”
“Unfortunately not.”
“Why isn’t he waiting for you in Coyote Canyon?”
“He wanted to keep coming so I wouldn’t feel I had to rush back.”
She hadn’t heard from him yet this morning, but he was probably already awake and on his way.
“That’s nice of him.”
It was nice of him. Except Talulah wasn’t happy that he’d left the diner in the hands of their employees and driven all the way from Seattle. Why couldn’t they have talked over the phone? She’d tried to reach him so many times. And now she was in the uncomfortable situation of having Paul and Brant in the same town—once she and Paul returned from Billings, anyway. “We’ll see how it goes. He also wanted to come so he could meet you. I tried telling him you probably wouldn’t feel very comfortable, considering you’d just had a baby, but—”
“It’s fine,” her sister interrupted. “Bring him by.”
“Okay.”
“Good luck.”
Talulah let go of her hand and blew her a kiss. “Thanks.”
She passed Scott on her way out. “Hey, are you leaving already?” he asked. “Because they had egg burritos at the cafeteria, and I got you one, in case you needed a little something to tide you over until Paul can get here.”
Apparently, he’d absorbed more of what she’d said last night than Debbie, but then he’d been a little more coherent at the time. “That was kind of you, but I think I’ll wait.”
He grinned. “If Debbie doesn’t want it, either, I guess I’ll just have to eat two.”
“Why not? This is a celebration, isn’t it?”
“Damn right,” he said and waved before disappearing into his wife’s room.
Taking a deep breath, Talulah hiked her purse higher and hurried out of the hospital. She’d had such success with Phoebe’s funeral. And the birth had gone perfectly, far better than she’d even dared to hope. She figured she shouldn’t be too upset with Paul for not responding to her for so long and then showing up out of nowhere.
Not everything could go her way.
Talulah held her breath as she watched Paul’s truck turn into the lot. They’d agreed to meet at a local pancake house that had a slew of five-star reviews. She was hungry, but she was no longer convinced that meeting him in public was the best thing to do. Maybe they needed more privacy for the type of discussion they would likely have.
Bracing for what could easily turn into a public argument, she managed a tentative smile as he got out and strode toward her.
“There you are,” he said and swept her into his arms, surprising her with a big hug and a long, passionate kiss. “God, I’ve missed you.”
She’d expected him to be angry. She knew he had been angry, because he hadn’t responded to any of her attempts to reach him. So what was this about? Why the sudden change of heart?
“It’s good to see you, too,” she murmured. “But...what made you leave Seattle and the diner and come clear to Montana?”
“I decided you were worth the trip—that we were worth it.”
Just the way he said “we” assumed too much. They hadn’t made anything official. In her mind, things had barely started to heat up between them. “What about the diner?”
“The diner is fine. I put Selma Roberto in charge. You know how dependable she is.”
But they’d agreed to take turns going out of town expressly because they didn’t feel they should require any of their employees to take on that much responsibility. “The problem is you didn’t even let me know you were coming.”
“I decided to surprise you.”
He’d decided to come and defend his claim, and he was doing it at the expense of the diner. But she felt bad that he always seemed to want more from her than she could give, so she didn’t point that out. “You definitely surprised me.”
“What happened to your arm?” he asked.
She glanced down at the bandage; she’d been so caught up in everything else she’d forgotten about her injury—and that she hadn’t had a chance to tell him about it. “You saw the broken window at the house?”
“Yeah.”
“Someone threw a rock through it.”
“Since you’ve been in Montana? Who would do that?”
“I thought it might be Charlie, but...I don’t know for sure.”
“What an asshole! I can’t believe anyone would do that!”
She didn’t really want to talk about it. It was old news, something she was dealing with herself. There was nothing Paul could do about it, anyway. “I’m okay. Just needed a few stitches.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Partly because she’d been in good hands already, she realized. Brant knew, and he’d been looking out for her. She’d felt protected enough that she’d felt no need to drag anyone else into it. But maybe she would’ve told Paul if he’d still been talking to her. “I couldn’t,” she said. “You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts, remember?”
“You never sent anything about getting hurt!”
Apparently, he had been reading her messages; he just hadn’t been responding to them. She’d guessed as much. “I thought you were mad at me, Paul.”
He scowled. “I was,” he admitted. “I was shocked and hurt and mad as hell when Charlie told me what was happening here. You’d been away from me for less than a week—and already you were messing around with another guy? I couldn’t believe it. But after a couple days of going out of my mind, I realized if it happened that fast, it was probably nothing serious. I know how long it takes to get you into bed when you’re considering a relationship,” he joked. “So...what made you do it?”
Desire. She couldn’t remember ever wanting a man like she’d wanted Brant. But she knew that answer would only make matters worse. Paul had been chasing her for so long. Of course he’d want her to feel that kind of desire for him. And she’d been hoping she would—with time. “I’ve been trying to figure that out. I’m afraid I don’t have a good answer.”
Another couple came out of the restaurant. As they walked past, he lowered his voice. “It was just physical, though, right? An outlet for the stress you’re under being back here by yourself and facing people—Charlie and his family—who are so hostile to you?”
He was feeding her the excuse he felt he could accept. He wanted her to say that the time she’d spent with Brant hadn’t meant anything to her, that it was just a mistake and nothing had changed between her and Paul. But she wasn’t sure that was the case. Something had changed, because whenever she thought of Brant, she still felt that same desire.
“Talulah?”
After quickly considering her other options, she decided to go with what Paul had suggested, for now. She could sort out her real feelings later, once they were home. She and Paul had such a good thing going with the dessert diner. She had to be careful, thoughtful—and most of all certain—before she stated anything too strongly, especially right now. “Maybe. I don’t know. Like I said, I can’t really explain it. Nothing like that has ever happened before.”
He gave her a searching look. “But...you’re coming back to Seattle, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” she said and that seemed to help.
Taking her hand, he smiled in apparent relief. “Then let’s put the past behind us. Forget it. As far as I’m concerned, what happened last week never happened, and we won’t talk about it again.”
“Okay,” she agreed. But she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
It was only forty-five minutes later, when she was in the bathroom after breakfast and Paul was waiting for her to leave the restaurant so he could follow her back to the hospital, that she got a text from Brant.
How’s it going? Any pics of the new baby you can share?
She wanted to respond, to send him one of the many photos she’d taken of her beautiful new niece, and she would’ve done so had Paul not shown up. She might even have asked Brant if he was going to be around when she got back. That was what felt natural to her.
But because she couldn’t—because she didn’t know what to say—she didn’t reply at all.
Brant had texted Talulah three hours ago—and gotten no response. He told himself she was probably busy with her sister and wasn’t checking her phone, but as the hours passed, he began to grow concerned. Did she have an accident or something driving home?
He couldn’t bring himself to believe that Charlie or Averil would seriously harm her, so he doubted that could be the problem. But then, he never would’ve thought either of them would throw a rock through her window...
Hey, you okay?
He sent that message after he finished work. Then he showered and had dinner—and there was still no word from her. Her silence seemed odd, and he began to worry about Paul. What kind of man was he? Could it be that he was obsessed with Talulah—and angry enough to harm her?
The longer it went, the more uneasy he became. Around eight, he sent her another message: Can you just let me know if you’re safe?
It took about fifteen minutes, but he finally received an answer.
Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you think something terrible had happened. I’m fine. We’ll have to talk later, okay? I can’t use my phone at the moment.
Why not? he wanted to ask. He also wanted to see if she was at home or still in Billings. But he refrained from being the kind of pain in the ass who’d text again after she’d said she couldn’t use her phone.
“What’re you doing tonight?” Kurt asked, coming into the living room, where Brant was sprawled in their father’s old recliner.
It was poker night, something Brant typically enjoyed, but he was so tired he’d decided not to go. He was also fairly certain Charlie would be there, and Brant preferred not to deal with him right now. “I’m probably going to turn in early.”
His brother scowled. “That’s bullshit, bro. You can sleep when you’re dead. Why not go to Hank’s with me? We could grab a drink, play some pool.”
Although Brant wasn’t too interested in spending another evening playing pool, he let his little brother talk him into going. He didn’t have to worry about running into Charlie since he would be at poker night.
Brant usually liked pool. But once they arrived, and he’d won three games in a row, he grew bored.
“One more,” his brother insisted when he said he was ready to leave.
“Why? You’ll never beat me,” Brant teased.
“I win sometimes. Not often,” he admitted sheepishly. “But if you’re not afraid of losing, why not give me another chance?”
Brant played again and didn’t try as hard so his brother could win. He thought that would satisfy him, but Kurt still wanted more. “Come on,” he said when Brant started to return his cue stick. “That went way too fast.”
“I’m done,” Brant insisted, and was relieved when some of Kurt’s friends showed up so his brother could stay and he could go. “Call me if you need a ride,” Brant told him, but Mason, a friend of Kurt’s since grade school, spoke up to say he’d make sure Kurt got home safely.
It was still fairly early, only ten, as Brant started for home. He was at the edge of town when he decided to turn the other way and swing by Talulah’s house. He told himself he was just checking to make sure there’d been no more trouble at her place. But the truth was...he wanted to see her. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind all day, and that was becoming an alarming pattern.
Once he got there, he guessed she hadn’t returned from Billings, after all. Other than the porch light, the place was completely dark.
Just to double-check, he went to the door. He certainly wouldn’t mind if she invited him in and wanted him to stay over. He’d been craving contact with her all day. But he would’ve been happy with a conversation. They hadn’t had a chance to talk about the funeral, the birth of her new niece or how her arm was healing.
But no one answered his knock. And when he tried the door, hoping to stick his head in and call out her name, he found it locked.
Assuming she was staying over at her sister’s again, he started to leave, but the screen door was hanging so crookedly on its hinges he decided to fix it while he was there. He’d been meaning to do it; it wouldn’t take long, and he had a hammer and screw gun in his truck.
A cool breeze ruffled his hair as he returned to the drive, hauled his tools out of the back of his truck and carried them to the porch. He was enjoying the work—and thinking about her coming home to find it able to latch—when two cars turned into the drive.
Talulah stomped on the brake the second she saw Brant, but then had to ease up and keep going so Paul wouldn’t rear-end her. He was right behind her in the Lexus sedan his mother had left him when she passed away two years ago. There was no chance he’d miss seeing Brant, which meant she couldn’t avoid a meeting between the two of them. And it would happen on her great aunt’s front porch, not even on neutral ground somewhere in town.
“Shit.” She didn’t bother to pull into the detached garage. She was afraid Paul would get out and confront Brant before she had a chance to reach them and do whatever she could to mitigate any problems.
Still, she had to park farther away from the house than Paul did so Brant would be able to leave without any need to move their cars, so she was a few steps behind Paul when he charged toward the porch.
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “And what are you doing here?”
“Paul!” Talulah cried, trying to warn him with her voice to go easy, but he wasn’t paying any attention.
Brant took his time setting the screen door he’d taken off the hinges against the house. She could tell by the tightening of his jaw and the narrowing of his eyes that he wasn’t any happier to meet Paul than Paul was to meet him.
“Just doing a friend a favor,” he said simply.
His words were carefully calibrated—pleasant, but barely so—and the way his gaze raked over Paul suggested he was sizing him up. Talulah could easily guess why. He was wondering what would happen if he had to fight, what his chances were of winning, and that made Talulah even more anxious. She definitely didn’t want this to go in that direction. There’d already been more than enough trouble with Charlie.
“Paul, this is Brant. Brant, this is Paul.” An introduction was unavoidable, so Talulah got on with it, hoping they’d both be civil, and they could all get through this without any serious drama.
“I know who he is,” Paul grumbled. “I knew it the second I saw him.”
Attempting to ignore Paul’s response, which was less polite than she’d wished, Talulah forced a smile for Brant’s sake and held it in place only with enormous effort. “Thanks for fixing the door. That screen was driving me crazy.”
Brant didn’t take his eyes off Paul, but Paul cast her an exasperated, even irritated look, letting her know he wasn’t happy she was being so friendly to the man she’d slept with. “It’s almost ten thirty,” Paul said, turning his attention back to Brant. “Do you help out all your friends when it’s this late or just the female ones you’re hoping to crawl back into bed with?”
A muscle moved in Brant’s cheek. “Out of respect for Talulah, I’m not going to answer that question.”
“You don’t think I should be upset?”
Talulah put a hand on Paul’s arm. “Please, stop. Really. This isn’t necessary, especially when Brant’s just being nice.”
“He’s not ‘just’ being nice,” Paul snapped. “That’s the problem.”
Brant raised his eyebrows. “I don’t blame you for not liking me. But you only get to act like an asshole if I’ve done something wrong.”
Paul jerked his arm away from Talulah as he stepped forward. “You know exactly what you’ve done. I’ve been with Talulah for four years!”
“We’ve been business partners for four years,” she tried to clarify, but Paul talked right over her.
“And I’ve known her even longer than that, since culinary school.”
“You haven’t known her longer than I have,” Brant pointed out.
“What does that matter?”
Talulah knew what Paul had been getting at. He meant they’d been growing closer and closer for years and Brant should respect that. But it was a flimsy argument, and Brant had immediately called him on it.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said with a shrug. “That’s my point. But you’re the one who brought it up.” He bent to pick up his tools, but when Paul came toward him, he left them on the porch and straightened. “Are we going to have a problem here?”
“That depends,” Paul replied. “Are you going to stay away from Talulah?”
Talulah grabbed Paul’s arm again. “Stop it! I’ll decide who I associate with. You don’t have the right to decide for me.”
“I just want to know!” he said to her. “Is that asking too much? Am I going to have to worry about this douchebag coming over here, trying to get in your pants again, as soon as I’m gone?”
The hair stood up on the back of Talulah’s neck. She’d never seen Paul act so territorial, but she’d never really seen him when he felt threatened, either. She’d been too caught up in their business to date other men. He’d probably assumed they were exclusive—even though she’d always said otherwise—because he’d never encountered any competition, especially in the last couple of years when she’d devoted herself so completely to launching the dessert diner. “We’re not together, Paul.”
He rounded on her. “You think this guy cares about you the way I do? He just wants a good fuck! You told me yourself he goes from woman to woman without ever feeling much. We, on the other hand, have a successful business. I’m willing to offer you marriage, babies, anything you want and everything I have.”
Talulah had the vague feeling that her inability to commit was once again going to come between her and the people she cared about, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She couldn’t pretend to feel something she didn’t. She could only try to be careful and not say or do anything rash until she was certain of her own mind and heart. And who knew when that would be? “I asked you earlier to give me more time, Paul. I’m not ready for this. It’s been one hell of a week coming back here, facing my past. Please...don’t treat my friends badly.”
The way Brant’s eyes cut to her made her realize how he might interpret what she’d just said. One hell of a week, as if it’d all been insufferable. But it hadn’t, and he was the reason. He’d shielded her from the worst of it, even at the cost of his best friend.
She wanted to clarify her statement. But Paul didn’t give her the chance, which was just as well, since it probably would only have made matters worse. “Even if you’ve slept with them?” he demanded.
Whatever Brant was thinking, his attention snapped back to Paul. “Watch how you talk to her,” he warned.
Paul threw back his shoulders, and his hands curled into fists. “Oh, yeah? What’re you going to do about it?”
Talulah’s pulse was racing as she squeezed between them. “What’s happening here? Quit it! Please. Both of you. This is childish.”
Paul’s eyes glittered with anger. “This dude thinks he can come out here, on your property, and tell me what to do.”
“Paul, you know that—” Talulah started, planning to remind him, once again, that he had no real claim on her, but Brant broke in before she could finish.
“You should be careful,” he said to Paul.
Hearing the steel in Brant’s voice, Talulah hoped Paul would back down. But he didn’t. “Why?” he said with even more challenge.
“Because you’re really beginning to piss me off.”
They might’ve come to blows right then. Paul shoved her to get her out from between them, but in the same second, she heard a female voice say, “Hey, you’re back?”
They all turned to see Ellen crossing the grass toward them, the end of the cigarette she held in one hand glowing in the darkness.
“I am back,” Talulah said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Looks like you are, too.”
“Finally.” Ellen squinted at the two men as she stopped and took a long drag. “I came by earlier but couldn’t get anyone.”
“I was in Billings. My sister just had a baby.”
“Everything go okay?”
“It did—thank goodness.”
As Ellen drew closer, the light from the porch illuminated her pixie-like face, and Talulah could see that she’d changed the color of her hair to a whitish blond. “What’s going on here?” she asked, gesturing at the men with her cigarette. “Are you having some sort of disagreement?”
“Who are you?” Paul asked.
Talulah frowned at him for not being more courteous. From his perspective it had to be a bit odd that this person would seemingly materialize out of nowhere. He didn’t know she and Ellen were neighbors. But still... “Ellen, this is my business partner—Paul Pacheco. He drove here from Seattle. Paul, Ellen lives next door.”
Paul glanced around as though he was surprised there was another house in the immediate vicinity. It was hard enough to see the structures on the adjacent property during the day, since so many trees and the garage obstructed the view. He probably hadn’t noticed it earlier. And at night, it was virtually impossible.
“Why are you trying to fight Brant?” Ellen asked him calmly.
Paul stiffened. “That’s none of your business.”
“Well, maybe it isn’t,” she said, exhaling on a long stream of smoke. “But it’s lucky I came by. I might’ve just saved your ass.”
“He’s lucky indeed,” Brant said and picked up his toolbox. “I’m out of here. Good to see you, Ellen.”
“You wouldn’t have to fight anyone if you want to come to my house,” she joked, but there was too much tension for any of them to laugh. They all watched Brant stalk away, climb into his truck and drive off.
“Looks like you’re busy,” Ellen said. “I’ll come over sometime when this guy is a little more open to company.” She indicated Paul with her cigarette before dropping it, stamping it out and picking up the butt. “’Night.”
Talulah sagged, completely exhausted, as she studied the screen door Brant had left leaning up against the house. “You had to almost cause a fight?” she asked, finally turning her attention to Paul.
He looked somewhat abashed. “Maybe I went too far.”
Talulah didn’t say anything. She just walked past him, pulled the key out of her purse and opened the door. “There are two bedrooms besides the master upstairs. You’re welcome to get your bag and take one of them. I need some time to myself,” she said and wearily climbed the stairs to her room.