“I bet he’ll sleep good tonight.” Gypsy returned to the refrigerator and groaned when she saw she was out of beer. “Damn, I should have lifted a six-pack from the bar.” She pulled out an open bottle of white wine from the inner door. “How about a glass of Riesling?”
“That would be great. I’m in no rush to get home to an empty house.”
“When will Jack be home?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.” She slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “When’s the last time you got to the store? Your fridge looks like mine did before I met Jack.”
Store. Wyatt. For a minute, she’d forgotten all about him. She emptied the rest of the bottle into two wineglasses and slid onto a stool beside Miranda.
“I was going to go today after interviews,” Gypsy said, “but when Wyatt came to pick up Belle, he was a mess. The attorney had just explained all about Francie leaving for good, so we talked awhile. When he heard I had to get Cooper, he offered to go to the store for me.” Gypsy glanced out the window, mentally calculating how long he’d been gone. “But now that I’m thinking about it, that wasn’t the best idea. He probably doesn’t even remember what a grocery store looks like. Might be midnight before he shows up.”
“Huh.”
Miranda’s quizzical response begged for a reply. “Huh, what?”
“Huh, you’re watching his niece, you’re talking about deep shit, and you’ve got a Top 40 artist grocery shopping for you. This isn’t sounding like the same guy you’ve been brushing off for years.”
“He’s just paying me back for the hell he’s caused in my life the last two days.”
Miranda took a long sip of her wine and smiled over the rim. “You and Jackson have been dancing around the heat between you for years. Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve been there when he walks in and you two look at each other. The oxygen gets sucked out of the room.”
“It doesn’t matter what happens. He’s not the kind of guy for me.”
“The kind a guy who could melt the North Pole with his smile?”
Gypsy gave Miranda a look. “I mean the kind who lives on the road three hundred days a year and has a woman—or five—at every stop.”
“That only means he’s probably damn good in bed.”
“It also gives him an ego the size of an iceberg—to keep our frozen metaphor going.”
“And people say I’m stubborn. I get it. I admire how diligent you are about putting Cooper first. But you work so damn hard. You have so much responsibility and no one to lean on.”
“I have plenty of people to lean on—you, Jack, Dylan, Emma, Marty, Alaina.”
“But you never lean on us for anything.”
“How can you say that? You built me this house. And you and Dylan babysit Cooper so much, he probably doesn’t know which one of us is his real parent.”
“Give me a break. Dylan and I have to pry that boy from your arms. You never ask unless it’s a last resort. Besides, that’s not the kind of leaning I’m talking about. There’s nothing like love to ease your burdens and give your life a whole new look.”
“Hmm,” she said around a sip of wine. Gypsy had seen exactly what her sister was talking about between Miranda and Jack, and Dylan and Emma. But Gypsy had never experienced that kind of connection herself. “I wouldn’t know.”
“That’s my point. You haven’t dated in years. You’ve put your entire personal life on hold. I’d like to see some love in your life, and the only guy you’ve let close is Wyatt.”
“We’re not close,” she said with conviction. “That man is pure heartache waiting to happen.”
“Why do you even try to deny it? You’re doing things that friends do for each other. And he’s so into you, he can’t even look at another woman when you’re around. If you could see the way his gaze follows you around the bar…” Miranda tsked.
“That doesn’t mean much considering how rarely he’s at the bar. Who does he look at in the weeks between visits?”
Miranda laughed. “Who cares?”
Gypsy frowned at her.
“I’m not talking forever here,” she said. “Look, I know you’re protecting yourself and Cooper from a string of bad fits. Who could be better for that position than a guy who pops in for hot sex, then leaves you alone to raise your kid and run your bar?”
A guy who stays.