“Yeah, so, for the first few months of Willow’s life, I raised her by myself. Renie and I weren’t together then.”
“She was with me.”
Bullet was sure Jace was joking, but the look on Billy’s face told him it was no joke.
“You don’t have to bring that up ever again, you hear me?”
Jace just laughed. Bullet was confused. He thought Billy and Jace were best friends. But then, he’d also thought Willow was Renie’s daughter. “They look so much alike,” he said out loud without meaning to.
“I know they do, but I’m tellin’ you the truth.”
“Okay, so…”
“Renie wanted me to tell you, so you know that nobody is feelin’ sorry for you around here. It’s more that we understand, or I do anyway. I been through it.”
It explained a lot actually. Bill and Dottie acted as though it was perfectly natural for Bullet to be raising Grey on his own. They helped out, but they’d never done anything that made him feel uncomfortable about the situation.
“Thanks.”
“Sure thing.” Billy looked at Jace. “Did I cover everything she wanted me to tell him?”
“Nope.”
“Shit. What did I leave out?”
“She wanted you to tell him that the right woman will love his baby too.”
“Yeah. That.” Billy stood and walked over to one of the stalls. “End of conversation.”
When Jace started laughing again, Billy threw a curry comb at him.
“Dinner bell. You’re both saved.” Jace stood and walked out of the barn. Billy followed him.
“You comin’ to dinner?”
Yeah, he was. All this deep conversation was making him hungry.
Lyric motioned at him when Bullet approached the table. She was standing behind the chair next to Tristan. When he got close, she stepped back and walked around to the other side of the table, next to Grey’s high chair.
“Needin’ a little auntie time,” she explained.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
Before Tristan realized what was happening, Bullet was seated in the chair next to her. He leaned in close. “Hey, darlin’, you don’t mind sittin’ next to me, do ya?”
His breath was warm on her skin. It made her want to lean closer still. “No, I don’t mind.” Why couldn’t she resist him? What was it about Bullet, or was she destined to keep falling for the exact kind of men she didn’t want to fall for?
“Good. I like bein’ next to you,” he smiled.
And with that, Tristan was toast. Putty. A heaping blob of hormones, all screaming at her to pull him away from the dinner table, take him downstairs, and into her bed.
He leaned in again. “Whatever you’re thinking, I couldn’t agree more.”
He couldn’t know what she was thinking, could he?
“Come with me,” he said after dessert.
“No, Bullet, I can’t.”