As I’m regaining my bearings, Mrs. MacIntyre stops in front of us. “Give me the baby. Y’all need a night to recuperate, and if I know you”—she points at me—“you’re working yourself to the bone. You can pick her up in the morning.”
Brady looks to me, and I introduce them. “This is our neighbor, Mrs. MacIntyre. She watches Isabella sometimes when I work at the diner. She’s been out of town, or I’m sure you would’ve met her by now.”
He frowns and stares at me a moment. “You work at a diner?”
“Yes, but I took this week off. I go back on Monday.”
His frown turns into more of a scowl, and I feel like I just poked a bear.
Mrs. Mac ignores our conversation and takes Bella, who grins up at her. “Hey, little miss.” She turns to Brady. “Call me if you two need anything. Is there milk in here?” She points to the diaper bag.
I nod, but before I can say anything, she pats my arm, turns on her heel and waltzes off.
As we watch our neighbor cross the parking lot, Brady whispers, “Please tell me we didn’t just send her off with a lunatic.”
And then I laugh for the first time today, and it feels surprisingly good.
“Mrs. Mac babysits for us a lot. She loves Izzy.” Izzy. I’ve never called her that before.
As though Brady recognizes that, his eyes warm. “C’mon. I’m going to pass out if we don’t eat something soon. Aren’t you hungry? We didn’t eat breakfast, and it’s almost two.”
That’s true. I fed the baby and spent the rest of the morning packing her diaper bag and getting both of us dressed.
Once we’re in the truck, I lean my head against the window.
“You’re shivering.”
I hadn’t noticed, but he’s right. I wrap my arms around my waist.
Brady turns up the heat as I stare at the dark clouds blanketing the sky. A low rumble of thunder echoes in the distance, and goose bumps spread down my arms. It’s going to rain. I used to love the rain.
Not any more.
Both of us are wiped out, so he says he’ll order a pizza when we get home.
Without Izzy’s chatter, it’s eerily quiet when we walk in the house. Neither of us bothers to turn on the lights, and with a storm rolling in, it’s dark in here. My heels break the silence, clacking along the hard wood floor.
I head toward my room, certain that Brady wants to be alone like he did yesterday, but then he calls out my name. Pausing in the doorway of my bedroom, I turn to look at him.
He’s loosened his tie and looks utterly beautiful in his suit. Scruffy and tired, hands shoved into his pockets, like he’s been at the office all afternoon. Someday, one lucky girl will get to come home to this. Inwardly, I sigh.
His lips flatten. “You okay?”
I shrug. I don’t have words to describe what I’m feeling right now.
His head cants to the side as he studies me, his green eyes magnetic. I get the impression he wants to say something, but then he looks away.
It’s funny how he could wrap his arms around me and kiss my forehead while we were surrounded by a hundred people, but get us alone, and I get the distinct impression I make him uncomfortable.
He clears his throat. “Thanks for setting everything up today. You did a great job.”
“You paid for it. I just made a few phone calls.”
“Kat, c’mon. You keep this place running, and the way you jumped in and took care of the details for today means a lot to me.”
“No problem. I’m happy to help.”
We stare at each other, and I can’t stop thinking about how good it felt when he hugged me today. I want to thank him for being so sweet, but the words get lodged in my throat because the vibe between us right now is so painfully awkward.
Probably because you cried hysterically. What was he supposed to do?
But then he shifts and rubs the back of his neck, a cute smile on his face as he motions toward the office. “Wanna hang out? The pizza should be here soon, and we could watch a movie or something.”
Part of me feels like we shouldn’t spend more time together. Like we’re crossing some kind of boundary after everything we shared today. But do I really want to be alone in my room right now? Besides, we’re talking about pizza, which is harmless.
That dimple peeks out, making my heart skitter and weakening my resistance.
“Sure. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you in the office.”
Tonight. You should tell him about Cal’s accident. He needs to know what really happened.
I take a deep breath. Yes, tonight. Because telling him is the right thing to do.
When I join him, he’s changed out of his suit and is wearing some worn jeans and a black t-shirt that stretches across his hard chest. I glance down at my dress. I should’ve changed too, but all I could manage was kicking off my heels and pulling on some fuzzy slippers.
Brady motions toward my feet. “Cute.” He gives me a goofy grin that somehow dispels whatever weirdness we’ve had brewing since yesterday.