sensed more than saw her take a sip of her own tea. “You with kids. Gonna take a minute to wrap my head around that. So where’ve you been all this time?”
“Philadelphia, mostly.” Cole finally tilted his own bottle to his lips.
“And you’re here now because...?”
“Here, as in Maple River? Or your dad’s house?”
“Either. Both.” At his silence, she added, “You’re the last person I expected to see right now. So color me curious.”
At that, he turned, starting slightly at the flashback—her sitting cross-legged on the cushioned wicker chair, her wavy hair cupping her shoulders. Even the skinny pants and loose top weren’t much different from what she used to wear. But for the first time since he’d encountered her again, Cole got his head out of his butt long enough to see the pain etched in her expression. Masked, to be sure, but definitely there. And far more real than that pity-me shtick she used to pull in high school.
Real or not, however, no way was he going to get sucked in. Not this time. Or ever again. Those big brown eyes be damned. Not to mention all that luggage in the vestibule. Full plate and all that. So whatever was going on with Bree, he didn’t need, or want, to know.
However, since he was on her turf, he supposed an explanation was in order.
His gaze shifted back to the kids, a smile tugging at his mouth when Wes—far more coordinated than Cole had been at that age—caught the ball. “The kids’ mother and I have been divorced since they were babies,” he said quietly. “Up to last week we had shared custody.”
“Last week...?” Her breath hitched. “What happened?”
“The kids asked Erin to choose between them and her...personal life.”
Several beats preceded “And she didn’t choose them?”
The horror in her voice made him smile. As did the softly uttered, but very crude, word that followed when he shook his head.
“I can’t imagine...” She blew out a harsh breath. “Sorry, I don’t even know the woman—or your kids, for that matter—it’s not my place to judge. But still.”
“Yeah.” When Bree didn’t respond, he said, “The thing is, Erin and I... It was a mistake. Plain and simple. And if she hadn’t gotten pregnant...”
“The first time or the second?”
Cole smirked. “We told ourselves it was working by then. We were wrong.” He paused. “It took her a while longer to finally admit motherhood cramped her style.”
At Sabrina’s silence, he turned again to find her watching the kids with an intensity that sent a jolt of awareness through him. Finally she sighed, then said, “So you brought them back here.”
Setting the bottle on a nearby table, Cole stood and walked over to the porch railing, his hands slammed into his jeans pockets. “For the summer, anyway. My folks needed someone to house-sit. And my sister and her family are here. It’ll be good for them, having a break until we figure out what comes next.”
“And you ran into Pop in the Food Lion. Amazing.”
“I think that’s called fate.”
He heard her snort. “So their mother... She simply washed her hands of them?”
“They talk. Text.” He looked at her. “It’s only been a week. And she’s still their mom.”
Her downturned mouth—there was a familiar expression—made it clear what she thought of his assessment before she nodded toward the yard, where her dad was giving Wes pointers on how to throw the ball. “Looks like maybe they’re helping each other.”
“So I didn’t imagine it,” Cole said. “That he’s lonely?”
Her cheeks puffed when she blew out a breath. “The others are around, of course. They get together a lot, he’s hardly neglected. But it’s not the same, from when the house was always filled.”
Cole took another swallow of his tea. “Can’t quite believe he’s selling it.”
“Not sure how hard, though. It’s been on the market for months. And it’s not overpriced, but...”
“He doesn’t really want to leave.”
The kids’ laughter floated over to them from the far end of the yard. Her smile seemed halfhearted. Nothing like the sassy grin he remembered. “Can you blame him?”
Cole thought of all the kids who’d found sanctuary here, temporary or otherwise. Himself included. How Jeanne Noble’s generosity, the Colonel’s strength, still permeated the space. It was a good house, filled with good vibes. Mostly, anyway.
“No, I can’t.” He squinted. “So you don’t mind? That we’re here?”
“Why should I?”
For oh, so many reasons, he thought, then looked away again, annoyed that he was still having trouble staring directly at the girl he’d once loved so hard it’d scared the snot out of him. Sure, those feelings were gone, but the memory of them wasn’t. And his fists clenched underneath his folded arms as the compassion in her eyes threatened to reopen not only newer, not-yet-completely scabbed over wounds, but much older ones he’d thought long since healed.
Then she got up to join him at the railing, and he shut his own eyes against the onslaught—of memories, of her scent, of disappointment and uncertainty and longing. Man, was he messed up, or what...?
“Dad tell you about Matt and Kelly?”
The amusement in her voice brought Cole’s gaze to the side of her face again. “Kelly? McNeil?”
“Yep.”
Back in school, Cole and Sabrina and Kelly had been—in hindsight—a very strange but very loyal triumvirate. Until Kelly moved away their senior year, and everything...changed.
“Matt and Kelly, what?”
“Married, if you can believe it. New baby, even. Well, three months old now. Although she already had two kids from her previous marriage.”
Cole’s head spun. Sure, everyone knew Kelly’d had a crush on Bree’s twin brother, but she’d been too shy to say anything. And Matt...well. Matt was Matt. Focused, one might say. Which was another word for oblivious.
“I don’t... Wow.”
Bree laughed. “Long story. Happy ending. Or beginning, I suppose. They don’t live far. In case you run into them in the supermarket or whatever. But fair warning—they’re ridiculously happy. It can grate, after a while.”
This was said with such love—and obvious pain—Cole felt his gut twist.
“I can imagine.”
A moment passed before she nodded toward the kids. “Tell me about them.”
He
