You Were Mine (Rosemary Beach 9)

As soon as it was out of my mouth, I wanted to pull it back in. Why had I brought up London, dammit? Bethy turned to study her margarita, and Harlow reached for some fruit. Blaire actually glared at me.

I’d pissed off the women. Great.

“Uh, sure. We have strawberry salad, baked potatoes, asparagus, and butter rolls. If I’d known she didn’t eat red meat, I could have gotten her some salmon.”

Bethy was drinking her margarita like it was water. Her laughter was gone, and it was all my fault. Just because I wanted to see her.

“That’s fine. She knew it was a barbecue. She should have spoken up before now. She can eat the sides. Sure she eats some of that.”

“She can eat the spinach leaves out of the strawberry salad. I’m sure that’s what she normally eats,” Bethy said, and tipped her margarita glass back again.

Harlow’s eyes went wide, and Blaire ducked her head to snicker.

No one else said anything.

Was Bethy taking a jab at London? Or was I reading this wrong?

“I’m sure you’re right,” I finally replied, and Bethy turned her head to look up at me. I was afraid I would see something there that would upset me, but instead, she looked ready to laugh. Her lips pressed together as if she was holding in her amusement. She was making fun of London. My chest tightened. She was jealous. Bethy wasn’t exactly moving on after all.

“You should probably get back outside. You left London out there with the men. I’m sure she’s bored,” Blaire said.

I glanced over at her and nodded. They were kicking me out. I got that.

Right when I opened the door to walk outside, I heard the first laugh. Then the entire kitchen broke into laughter. Smiling, I closed the door behind me.

Woods turned around with an amused look. “What’d you say to make them laugh like that?”

I shrugged. “I’m a funny guy.”

“Who lied to you?” Grant asked.

I ignored him and looked at London. “You eat raw spinach?” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

Bethy

Dinner had been interesting. Thad got there just in time to eat—he’d been caught up in a meeting with his dad. I was relieved to see him. Being the odd one out was awkward, but Thad being there without a date made it OK.

After downing the margarita to deal with Tripp being in the kitchen, worrying about London, I switched to water. I was done numbing myself with the stuff.

Blaire sat across from me, and Della was on the other side of Thad. Tripp and London were at the other end of the table near Grant and Harlow. It made it easier not to look at them.

“I’m glad everyone was able to come tonight. You are our closest friends, and you’ve become my family,” Della said, smiling as she looked over at Woods.

Conversation ceased, and all eyes had moved to Della.

“We wanted to tell you all at the same time, so we figured this would be an excuse to get together and let you all know our good news. I’m pregnant!”

The room erupted in cheers, and Blaire jumped up to throw her arms around Della, while Woods got pats on the back from the men. I moved in behind Blaire to hug Della and congratulate her.

“I’m so happy for you,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said with a big grin.

Turning around, my eyes caught Tripp’s as he watched me. I wondered if he was thinking about our baby. I wanted him to know the truth. Not that it changed anything for him. I had been the one most affected by it. But still, he should know.

I looked away and walked back to my seat. Thad reached over and took my water glass. “Don’t drink the damn water. It’s contagious. They’re all popping out kids left and right.”

I laughed so hard I laid my head on his shoulder. He was right. I was beginning to think it was in the water. When I could catch my breath, he patted my leg and grinned. “We have to watch out for each other. The domino effect, you know.”

What he didn’t realize was that I wanted that life. The one with the husband who adored me and loved our children. Glancing over at Grant, I watched him kiss Lila Kate’s head as he held her. Then I watched Nate crawl up into Blaire’s lap and wrap his little arms around her neck and squeeze hard.

“You look happier,” Thad said, still looking at me.

I turned my attention to him. “I am. It’s getting better. I’m getting better.”

He nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, then tucked his head toward mine. “We all love you. You know that, right? Even Woods. We all want you happy.”

Tears stung my eyes, and I let him hold me a minute. “I’m very lucky,” I replied.

“Yeah, you are. We’re pretty damn awesome,” he teased.

My happy laughter dried up the tears.

When I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment, the Harley parked under the streetlight and the rider leaning against it caught my attention. It was Tripp. I couldn’t see his face, but his height and the bike gave him away.

What I didn’t know was why he was here and how the heck he’d beaten me home from the barbecue.

After locking up my car, I walked toward him. He moved away from his bike and headed my way.

“What are you doing?” I asked once he was close enough.

“Wanted to talk to you without an audience. Can I come in?”

Tripp in my apartment. Was I ready for that? Right now, I had no fond memories in my apartment. No one had visited; it was just a place where I slept and hid from the world. Bringing Tripp into it would change that. He would be a part of it.

“Please,” he said, his voice pleading.

I gave in. “Sure, OK.”

He fell into step behind me as we walked to the stairs.

“How did you beat me here?” I asked.

“I had Thad take me to my bike and let London go on home in her car. She won’t ride on my bike, so we never take it.”

How did he expect to have a relationship with someone who wouldn’t ride on his bike? “Sounds like a winning combination. No red meat or motorcycles. Y’all have a lot in common,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

Tripp stopped walking, and I wondered if I had made him angry. We were almost at my door. I turned to look at him, not afraid of a confrontation. If he wanted to be a baby, then fine. I had only been joking. Sort of. “You don’t like London,” he said, watching me.

I could lie. But I wouldn’t. “I didn’t like her eight years ago, either.”

He tilted his head to the side and studied me. “I know why you didn’t like her then. Why don’t you like her now?”