“No. I’d have some coffee in my cup by now if it was.”
“Doubtful,” I mutter, searching for two more mugs. “All right, so what has your panties in a bunch this morning? Tell me. I’m dying to know who’s back in the great State of New York.”
“Lilly.”
Well, fuck. My hand stops mid-air and the cup I’m holding clatters onto the counter. “Seriously? Where’s she been all this time?”
“Don’t know. But…” He takes a long, dramatic pause. “She didn’t return alone.”
“She married or something? Z won’t be thrilled.” I’m already losing interest in this conversation. Lilly couldn’t have made it clearer that she didn’t want to be Z’s ol’ lady when she ghosted his ass. Why anyone, except Hope, gives a shit about her return is beyond me.
“He’d probably prefer that,” Blake says. “She has a kid.”
“A kid?” A sick feeling settles in my stomach. “Or Z’s kid?”
He wags his finger in my face. “Ding, ding, ding!”
I slap his hand away. “Knock that off.” Jesus, who knew being business partners with Wrath would mean Blake would pick up so many of his annoying habits?
“Hope said the kid looks just like Z. She arranged for Z and Lilly to meet up at the park. Lilly didn’t deny it, I guess.”
“Damn.” Z’s gotta be hurting over this. “How old is the kid?”
Blake shrugs. “I dunno. Whenever we saw Lilly last, minus nine months?”
“That’s so fucked up.”
“Yup. I saw Z just before he left, and he seemed rattled.” He shrugs. “I gave him one of our car seats just in case.”
The more details he gives, the sicker I feel. It’s too close to my own situation. Or maybe it’s nothing like my situation. Z’s kid is young enough that he won’t remember not having his dad in his life the first few years, whereas I’ve got thirty-some years of parental damage to unpack. Either way, it leaves a sourness burning in my stomach.
“What’s he going to do?” I ask.
“Get to know his kid, I guess.” He shrugs. “You know how he felt about her.”
“Did Hope know about the kid?”
“No way.” He immediately shuts down that question. “She’s hopping mad about the whole thing.”
“She probably feels guilty. Z wouldn’t have met Lilly if it wasn’t for her.”
He cocks his head. “Not cool. You better not say that to Hope, either.”
“Why? Is Rock gonna deck me?”
“No, I will.”
I give him a quick shove sideways. “Love to see you try, brother.”
“Now, boys, what did I tell you about fighting before coffee?” Charlotte shuffles into the kitchen and yawns.
Blake runs his concerned gaze over Charlotte’s bathrobe and sleepy appearance. “Are you okay?”
“Late night.” She reaches up and ruffles her hand over Blake’s hair. “What’s up, my ginger twinny?”
He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair, trying to straighten the mess Charlotte made of it.
“He sped over here to share some hot gossip like a little ol’ church grandma,” I say, pouring coffee into her cup.