Page 45 of Hold Me Until Morning

Rolling my eyes, I took a sip of tea. “There will be no earning a reputation. I thought I’d go have a couple drinks, meet her friends, and plan to be home and in bed by ten.”

Disbelief left her on an exaggerated gasp. “Well, that’s no fun. I won’t agree to it if you don’t stay until closing. And you’d better dance your cute little booty off while you’re at it.”

“Lolly.” Her name was nothing but an exasperated sigh.

“What?” She shrugged a shoulder to her ear. “I’m just trying to help a girl out. If I were a few years younger, I’d come with and help you scope out a little trouble.”

“I’m sure you would.”

Her chuckle was wry before a vat of softness swam into her features. “I’d be more than happy to watch her. You need to get out. Have a little fun. Sow some oats now that you finally got rid of fuckface.”

Tea spewed out of my mouth.

“Lolly.” I choked her name around the bit of tea that I’d inhaled.

She laughed, no shame. “He was a fuckface if I ever met one. Nothing but a snake.”

“He wasn’t a snake.” The rebuttal wobbled on my tongue. “We just…didn’t work out.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You don’t need to tell me everything, Hailey, but I sure don’t need you to lie to me. I know there was something more going on over there than you ever let on.”

I couldn’t form any words as I stared across at her.

She gave me a tight dip of her chin, my silence an affirmation. “Good. Then we’re clear about that.”

Standing from the stool, she picked up her cup and rounded the island. She reached out and set a weathered hand on my cheek. There was so much love behind her touch that a wave of comfort rippled beneath the surface of my skin.

“It’s time for your joy, Hailey, because I know you didn’t have it in Austin. I see you struggling. Still trying to hide. But it’s time to come out from behind it. Time to come out and shine. And believe me, it’s going to be my pleasure getting to witness it.”

Turning, she shuffled back across the kitchen and into the great room, heading for the hall that led to her room at the end. She paused to look back. “And if that comes in the form of a too-hot cowboy, then so be it.”

Surprise hefted from my lungs. She had a way of leaving me speechless. Delving deep, dipping into the profound, before she turned right around and tossed snark right back in my direction.

Because I knew exactly which too-hot cowboy she was referring to. Too bad there wasn’t a chance of it. Too bad no real joy could come from him. The man was heartbreak wrapped in a big, flirty bow. So easily doling out the devastation without a second thought.

Uneasiness quivered through me at the thought, something shaky in that judgement that I’d kept trying to cast. How sweet he’d been last Tuesday, offering himself freely, the words he’d given to my daughter, the way he’d whispered his sympathy to me, as if he might understand.

How could he, though? And how could I be so vile that I would even consider giving him the chance?

But the man had needled his way beneath my skin a long time ago, though it’d become stagnant in the years I’d been away, when I’d be quietly consumed by grief and sorrow and the regrets that built with each day that had passed.

Shucking it off, I took my own cup of tea and wandered into my room to get ready for bed.

I plugged my phone into the charger on the nightstand before I moved into the en suite bathroom. It carried the same theme as the kitchen, brown cabinets so dark they were almost black, the countertops a swirl of creams and browns and golds.

Tossing my hair into a ponytail, I washed my face then changed into a pair of silky teal sleep shorts and matching tank.

So yeah, teal was my signature color.

Massaging night cream onto my face, I wandered back out into my bedroom and sank onto the side of my bed. My attention drifted to the window, errant thoughts traipsing to the man next door.

Wondering if he was there or how he spent a Friday night.

I rolled my eyes at myself.

I knew full well how someone like Cody Cooper spent his Friday nights. Hell, it was likely how he spent most every night of the week. Giving someone all those smirks and teases and dishing out the type of pleasure I was most certain he had to offer.

I refused the urge to peel back the edge of the blinds to peer out—just to check—and I reached over and flicked off the lamp on the nightstand. I slipped under the plush covers and relaxed into the comfort of the mattress.

---