Easy Charm (Boudreaux 2)

“Hmm, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.” She turns them over in her hands. “I’ll try an eight, please.”

“Sure thing.” I fetch the shoes and return to Callie, dying to ask her lots of questions. “Are you from here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says and slips her feet into the shoes, then struts around the shop expertly. “Oh, these are amazing.”

“They make your legs look six feet long,” I reply with envy. “And that peep toe shows off your pedicure.”

“I’ll take them.”

“Perfect.” Callie joins me at the register. “So, who are you trying to kill with these shoes?”

She laughs and hands me her debit card. “A man that makes me crazy. I either want to deck him or climb him. There doesn’t seem to be an in-between.”

“Well, these shoes are badass.”

“And I can wear them to work,” she says with a nod.

“What do you do?”

“I own a club just a few blocks over. I’ve walked past this store dozens of times and I’m addicted to shoes, so I had to come in.”

“Isn’t it in our DNA to be addicted to shoes?” I chuckle and bag her purchase add tissue paper, and walk around to pass her bag to her. “Thanks for coming in.”

Callie smiles and waves as she leaves the shop, and I mentally thank Charly. I need this distraction.

I didn’t think about Rhys at all for about ten minutes. The mental picture of his amazing arms and abs never once entered my brain. Or the way he would smile that smile that he reserved just for me. Or the way his eyes would drift closed every time he first pushed inside me, then whisper fucking hell, Gabrielle because it felt so damn good.

Nope, didn’t think about any of that.

Baby steps. That’s the key.

“I talked to Mama,” Charly announces as she joins me. “She’s going to keep Sam until Sunday’s dinner.”

“She doesn’t have to do that,” I insist, but Charly shakes her head firmly.

“They’ll have fun. And this way you can figure some stuff out and hang out with me for a few days.”

“You’re going to hang out with me?”

“Again, not letting you wallow alone, sugar.” She winks and sets a hat on my head. “That’s a good color for you.”

“I love you, you know.”

“I love you more.”

***

“I’d forgotten how nice it is out here,” Charly says as she swings opposite from me. She’s in a pretty sundress, lazily swaying back and forth. I’m in my usual spot, paging through the reservations coming up this week on my iPad, thanks to the cops for returning it to me. Cindy was fined and spent a night in jail for grand larceny.

And I’m just petty enough to find the thought of Cindy sitting in a jail cell very satisfying.

“I love how the trees make the house so cool,” Charly says with a sigh.

“Me too.”

“Have you heard from Rhys?”

“No.” I don’t look up. The sting of not hearing from him at all is still sharp. It’s like he left and immediately forgot about me. And I miss him, damn it. I got so used to having him here, laughing with him, being in his arms, feeling him next to me while we slept.

And now he’s just gone. And it hurts so fucking bad.

“Maybe you will,” she says optimistically.

“I doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a jerk.”

“Oh, come on, sugar. It’s not like he knew you were pregnant and jetted. He didn’t know.”

“I trusted him, Charly. I trusted him with my son, with my heart. I let my guard down, and I don’t do that. I let myself feel something so big for him it consumed me. I knew he would leave eventually, so I put that on me. He didn’t make me love him, but I did all the same. He never said that he wanted to stay, but regardless, he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t say anything. And I can deal with it when it comes to me, but not when it comes to Sam. Sam idolizes him and Rhys left as if Sam doesn’t matter at all. And that’s bullshit. So he can rot in hell as far as I’m concerned.”

“Gabby, you don’t know why he was called to Chicago, or even if he intends to stay there.”

“Why wouldn’t he stay there? That’s where his team is, his doctors, everything.”

“But until you talk to him, you don’t know. What if there had been an emergency with one of the other players or the coaches? Maybe someone died, or got hurt? Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”

“He hasn’t called once. All he had to do was pick up the phone and explain. He hasn’t. And he took all of his stuff.”

“Your phone has been off for the better part of two days, Gabby. You only turn it on to check messages, which is very unlike you. How do you know he hasn’t tried to call?”

“He hasn’t left a message.”

“Maybe—”

“Look, I appreciate that you’re playing devil’s advocate, but I don’t want to try to guess what he’s thinking. I’m not a mind reader, Charly. And if he’s not going to communicate with me, well, things aren’t going to work out anyway.”

“All I’m suggesting is that you should keep an open mind.”

“So noted.” Keeping my eyes pinned on the iPad, I hear a car driving up the driveway.

“Are you expecting anyone?” Charly asks.

“No. It’s Sunday. The guests are all gone. Someone’s probably lost. It happens all the time.”