Page 11 of The "I Do" Do-Over

“Not exactly,” I say, taking a long draught of my drink.

Pixie’s smile dims. “Then why the hell is that woman here, visiting you?”

With a grimace, I pat the manila envelope on the bar next to my beer. “Paperwork.”

The white-haired woman opens her mouth, no doubt to grill me further, but hasn’t gotten a word out when somebody elbows me. I turn to see Rex, a bearded former Army Ranger who’s now working in veteran mental health services, and his red-haired wife, Willow, staring at me. She absently strokes her swollen belly as she leans into him.

“Is it true?” Rex asks, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Is your woman back in town for you?”

I sigh. “Taryn is not my woman — or anyone else’s, for that matter. She belongs to herself.”

Rex slides a knowing glance at Pixie, who snorts. The older woman throws her hands up in the air. “I’m with you, Rex,” she mutters, turning away to wash glasses. “But sometimes you can’t talk sense into a man who refuses to hear it.”

Willow laughs softly. “Don’t let them push you around, Boone. I hope Taryn has a nice visit, no matter the reason.”

“I know what the reason should be,” Rex says in a gravelly voice. “Everyone in Heartwood does.”

“Everyone in Heartwood needs to mind their own business,” I fire back.

“I heard she went cross-country skiing with her folks,” Willow continues as if she hasn’t heard our growly banter.

I nod as if this isn’t news to me — as if it doesn’t hurt that she’s enjoying her time in Heartwood without me.

Which is ridiculous, I know. Taryn’s got her own life, and why wouldn’t she spend quality time with her family while here?

I’m just jealous.

I wish she’d picked me, but that’s old news. She made her choice long ago, back in Vegas.

I was never what she wanted.

The only difference between then and now is that I’m finally starting to accept it.

“That’s nice.” My voice sounds hollow even in my own ears. Giving myself a little shake, I square my focus on Rex and Willow instead of the pity party I’m throwing myself. I jut my chin at the redhead’s belly. “How’s the baby?”

Rex grins so big, his face lighting up as he pulls Willow close. “Good,” he beams. “Really good.”

Willow chuckles. “That’s because you don’t have to feel him kicking your ribs all night long.”

“Her,” he says. “I don’t have to feelherkicking my ribs.”

My brows raise. “Twins?”

“Oh, god no.” Willow cringes. “We’re just in contention about the baby’s gender.”

“We want it to be a surprise,” Rex adds. He’s practically glowing as much as his wife. Fatherhood looks good on the man. And to think that not long ago, he was a loner who barely showed his face around town.

“How much longer until the baby comes and settles it?” I ask.

Willow wrinkles her nose. “Too damn long.”

“Three months,” Rex says.

“I’m happy for you two,” I say, meaning it. The manila envelope containing the divorce papers that I signed earlier today tugs at my attention, making a pang of sadness sear through my gut. “Really happy.”

Rex squeezes my shoulder, nodding his acknowledgement. “Hope you and Taryn have a good visit.”

“No matter what happens,” Willow interjects gently before the two claim a table and start perusing the food menu.

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