Page 54 of Lavender Lake
“What?”
“Stop tip-toeing around it. I walked into a minefield. Now at least give me the courtesy of being honest about it.”
“I haven’t asked her if she wants kids. But she makes him happy. They make each other happy. Isn’t that all we can ask for?”
When I refused to reply, Hadley clenched her jaw. She looked at her phone. “You’d better get going. You don’t want to hit Sweet Teeth during the morning rush.”
“Damn,” I murmured as Bowman passed Sweet Teeth. “There’s already a line out the door.”
“That’s good news. The pastries will be fresh. Probably right out of the oven,” he said, sliding the truck into a vacant parking spot on Silver Street.
“You’re a glass-is-half-full kind of guy, aren’t you?” I teased, reaching for my door.
“What are you doing?”
I frowned. “Getting out of the truck.”
“Wait.”
He climbed out and shut the door before coming over to my side. Bowman opened the door and held his hand out to me. I took it and hopped down, but my boot missed the step and I wobbled.
Bowman pulled me into the hard wall of his body and slid his hand to my waist to steady me. I peered up at him and I couldn’t stop myself from looking at his mouth.
“You good?” he rasped.
I nodded.
Bowman’s hand tightened and his head dipped.
“Salem!”
My head whipped around in the direction of the voice and I smiled at the dark-haired, muscular man sauntering toward us.
“Hey!” I greeted, putting my hand on Bowman’s chest and gently pushing against it in an attempt to put space between us.
But Bowman wasn’t having it, because he yanked me even closer and refused to drop his arm.
“How are you, Wade?” I asked.
Wade’s gaze drifted from me to Bowman and back to me. “I’m good. Really good.” He held out his hand to Bowman. “Hey, man.”
Bowman stared at Wade’s hand, and then he looked at me. “Another ex of yours?”
I hid my laugh behind my hand and shook my head.
“No. I dated Hadley,” Wade said with a rueful smile, his hand still outstretched.
Bowman’s countenance cracked. “Ah.” He clasped Wade’s hand, but this time it didn’t look at all like a macho show of strength.
“Wade’s family owns the Copper Mule,” I explained, attempting to step away from Bowman again.
Bowman shot me a look that saidI’m not letting you go, so stay put.
“We’ve got the best local beer in town,” Wade said. “Of course, that might be because we’re theonlybar in town.”
“That’s true, but also your dad has a gift for brewing.”
“You guys should come by sometime this week,” Wade invited.
