Page 41 of Bad & Bossy

“I’m sorry,” Lottie said, her voice so quiet I could barely hear her over the running water of the sink. She rinsed each dish as I handed them to her before putting them on the rack in the dishwasher. “I’ve made so many of those stupid scrapbooks, I didn’t even think for a second it would be the one with that photo in it.”

I watched as Cole slowly started to relax in his seat across the room. He laughed at something Hunter said, his tone more animated now. “Maybe I should just tell him,” I sighed.

“Is that what you want to do? Or is it because you feel like you have to?”

“I don’t know. Both?”

Lottie’s lips pressed into a thin line as she watched me. “I’ll support you either way. You know that.”

“I just… I don’t know, Lots.” I passed her another plate, staring at the water as it dripped off the edge of it. “A part of me wants to. But the other part of me—the sane part of me—remembers what happened a year ago. And the rumors I keep hearing at work?—”

“What rumors?” She instantly cut me off.

“That he’s an alcoholic,” I said. “It makes sense after last year. I just don’t know if I can have that around Drew, not after the shit I went through growing up.”

Lottie was one of the few people I’d allowed myself to open up to fully about what happened in my childhood. We’d shared a room in Hawaii during the few months we’d worked there on a ranch, and not having cell service or Wi-Fi in the apartment had meant we’d had to actually talk to one another.

“Some people say he was in rehab, others are saying he was in Vegas on a binge for months on end,” I told her. “Either way, I know how that ends.”

Lottie avoided looking at me. She took the dishes quietly, reaching out blindly, and something in my gut told me she knew something.

“Lottie,” I deadpanned.

“What?”

“What do you know?”

She took a deep breath and met my gaze. There was a sadness in her eyes, a glistening that confirmed for me that she knew things I didn’t. “It’s not my place?—”

An ear-piercing shriek rippled from the bassinet next to Hunter’s chair, followed by a fit of giggles. Hunter reached in and plucked out a wide-awake Brody, not a hint of glee on his face, and looked across the room at us. “Told you he likes to randomly scream.”

“He’s probably hungry,” Lottie said. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and shut off the water, abandoning the conversation, and walked across the room to snatch her little boy from her husband. “If your mom fed him at the right time, then he’s not eaten for hours.”

“We should probably head off, anyway,” Cole added, pushing his chair back with a deafening screech of wood-on-wood. He glanced back at me as he stood. “If you’re okay with that, I mean.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I shoved off from where I was leaning against the counter. That awkward unease was back between the four of us, too many unspoken words to count hanging in the air.

Lottie grabbed a jar of something small and red from the cabinet. “Honestly, that’s probably in your best interest. He’s not very cute when he eats and this shit gets everywhere,” she laughed, pulling out the high chair from the corner with her foot and plopping Brody down into it. Another little scream, another fit of giggles. “Plus, I think he’s running out of good-behavior-energy.”

Cole and I quickly gathered our things and slid on our muddied boots, a silence between us that felt far too charged for my liking. I wished I hadn’t agreed to ride with him, at least then I wouldn’t have to sit in the car next to him on the way back into town. That gave him far too much time and opportunity to ask me questions.

We said our brief goodbyes, and I kissed Brody on the top of his head just seconds before the jar of food was opened. Quick hugs were dispersed filled with silent apologies from both Hunter and Lottie. I wasn’t mad at either of them, I was mad at myself.

I still wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed Cole to drive his Mercedes-Maybach down Lottie’s dirt road. Surely, he had something less fancy, something that he wouldn’t mind getting covered in mud and grass, but he didn’t seem to care that the rims and lower end of the shiny black car was slick with dirt. He hit a button on his key fob and the car beeped twice then unlocked. All I could do was stare at the handle of the passenger side door, worried I’d ruin the leather interior with my boots.

“It’s fine,” he said, and for a split second, I wondered if he could read my mind. I’d be seven levels of fucked if he could. “I’ll get it detailed tomorrow.”

Hesitantly, I slid into the passenger seat, careful to keep my boots outside of the car. Knocking my feet together, I tried to get as much dirt as I could off the soles, but as I finally brought them into the car, I couldn’t help but notice that Cole hadn’t even tried to clean his off before sitting down. The footwell on his side was covered in mud.

We didn’t say a word as he turned the car around and started the long drive back down Lottie’s dirt road. With the insane suspension on his car, we barely felt any bumps, but an uncomfortableness still hung between us, blaring at us from all angles.

I had to say something, anything. If I didn’t, I knew in my gut he’d bring it up first.

“So the new summer range,” I offered. I tugged at the seatbelt across my chest, loping it under my breast to give me a little more breathing room—it felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the fucking car. “I heard you and Hunter talking about it.”

“Dana,” he sighed.

“You said something about a non-alcoholic range?” I added. Please take the fucking bait.

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