She touched her belly. “Look at me.”
True. However, Chey’s situation was anything but typical. If not for the fact that Aaron, her brother-in-law, had donated sperm for an artificial insemination, which had happened in secret, she would be childless. Her husband didn’t know he wasn’t really the father. Eve wouldn’t know, either, if Cheyenne hadn’t broken down and told her during a brief scare when she began to spot at three months and feared she was about to have a miscarriage.
“I was determined not to spend my birthday alone, so—”
“I feel terrible,” Cheyenne broke in. “I should’ve been there for you.”
“You couldn’t. You have a husband and other responsibilities now.” Not that it made the loss of her best friend’s time and attention any easier. Eve was more alone than she’d ever been. With her parents traveling so much, and her friends busy with their own lives, all she had to devote herself to was the B and B. Since she’d dated Ted last year, and he’d broken up with her for Sophia, she’d been even lonelier.
“It wasn’t Dylan who pulled me away,” Cheyenne clarified. “His brothers were arguing with their father and stepmother, and we were trying to act as intermediaries.”
“Well, helping in that situation was more important than hanging out with me last night,” Eve said. “Trust me, what I did wasn’t your fault. It was mine. As I said, I was drinking. And this guy was...”
Worry creased Cheyenne’s forehead. “Pushy? He didn’t press you too hard or...or make you feel you had no choice....”
“Not at all,” she said. “The moment I noticed him, I wanted him—more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else. It had to be the booze. I’m not usually like that, not with a stranger. But everything—my mood, the alcohol, the fact that I was alone and the handsomest guy I’d ever seen was sitting at the bar... It all sort of undermined my good sense.”
Cheyenne bit her lip. “So you invited him over?”
“More or less. We wound up together. Let’s just say that.”
“I’m happy you met someone you were attracted to. But taking a stranger home... That’s so dangerous, Eve. He could’ve hurt you or...worse.”
Eve had swallowed two ibuprofen tablets to help her recover from her hangover. She’d been feeling better since then, but the tension of having to confess to something she’d much rather forget was bringing back the pain. “He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to, so there’s nothing to worry about there. I made a mistake. It’s that simple. I was stupid and foolhardy, but it’s over now, and I can’t take it back.”
She returned to her computer, hoping the discussion was now at an end. But Cheyenne didn’t go back to work.
“So you’re okay?”
“As okay as I can be when I’m embarrassed and humiliated,” Eve replied. “I’m hoping my parents won’t hear about it once they’re home. They’d be just as embarrassed. And disappointed. They don’t need that at their age.”
“Did they get the RV fixed?”
“Not yet. They had to order one of the parts.”
“Lucky for you. Hopefully, this will blow over before they return.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
Cheyenne groaned as she stretched. Then, obviously attempting to be nonchalant about it, she asked, “Do you think you’ll be seeing this guy again?”
“No. He’s only in town temporarily.” She didn’t want to add that he’d also made clear he wasn’t interested, which was hitting her hard after Ted’s defection. Until the past few years, she’d been the one to call the shots with the men she dated. But maybe she’d been too picky for too long and deserved the reversal. Maybe karma was coming back to bite her. It certainly seemed that way, because there’d been Joe DeMarco, who’d dated her just once—by his choice—and Ted, who’d done more than date her, only to break it off right when she’d decided she was finally falling in love.
Counting this guy, she was zero for three.
“What brought him here?”
Eve felt herself flush. “We didn’t do much talking.”
“Apparently not.” Cheyenne seemed to be fighting a smile.
“Stop!” Eve scowled at her. “This isn’t funny. Let’s just...pretend it never happened.”
“We can do that. And I’m confident we can convince Kyle to keep his mouth shut. He knows what it’s like to make that kind of mistake. But Noelle? If you take someone home with you, don’t ever do it in front of her.”
Eve didn’t volunteer that Noelle was the one who’d given them a ride. “If I’d had any brain cells that were still functioning, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”
Cheyenne came up behind her and began to massage her shoulders. “Everything will be okay. Try not to let it ruin your birthday.”
Turning thirty-five had already done that. But she had more to worry about than the memory of a birthday gone sour. Even if she could forget what she’d done, she couldn’t escape what had caused her to act that way in the first place. There was a void in her life and she was trying to fill it with something meaningful. Last night hadn’t helped, however. If anything, it’d made things worse because it had highlighted, once again, the companionship she was missing, as if watching her friends move on with their lives wasn’t difficult enough. “I never saw this coming.”
“Neither did I,” Cheyenne admitted. “But...maybe you needed to cut loose.”
“Thanks for looking on the bright side.” Eve took a moment to smile gratefully. Then she shoved last night into the back of her mind. They needed to get through the most challenging part of the day—and for any B and B that was pulling off a fabulous breakfast. “We’d better go help Deb.”
Cheyenne gave her a final squeeze and they headed to the kitchen, where Eve insisted on being the one to deliver the meal trays to the guests who’d requested breakfast in their rooms. She didn’t want Cheyenne climbing such a long flight of stairs if she didn’t have to.
Trying not to obsess about who else Noelle might be telling about her faux pas of last night, Eve hurried to Room 1 with a single tray for a Brent Taylor. B and Bs primarily hosted couples, but that wasn’t necessarily the case in Whiskey Creek. Because there were no regular motels, she rented to anyone who needed a room, and that sometimes included a husband or wife who’d been kicked out of the house or had stormed off for whatever reason, people who came to pan for gold, business travelers and others who were passing through for one reason or another.
With her mind on returning to the kitchen for the other two trays she had to deliver to the couple in Room 5, she donned a polite expression as soon as the door opened. But the words she was about to utter—“Good morning. I hope you enjoy your breakfast”—never passed her lips.
There, looking like he’d just stepped out of the shower, was the man who’d shared her bed last night.
