Page 22 of The Lucky Heart (Jamison Valley 3)
Babysitting? “Uh, sure.” Rowen I could handle. Ben? Yikes. He still looked at me like I was a stranger, and any time I got close, he’d cry and run away. I had until the summer to get him to like me. Maybe I’d start bribing him with candy and toys.
I think that was how Mom got him to cuddle with her all the time. Her pockets were always full of chocolates.
“Can I run an idea by you guys?” I asked as Gigi drove us downtown. “I want to ask Mom to move in with me.”
“Good luck,” Jess mocked. “I asked her to move for years but finally gave up when she wouldn’t budge. I tried again last year. Offered to build her a cottage out by the farmhouse but she still said no.”
“What? Why?” The old trailer where we’d grown up was practically falling apart. Mom had neglected it for so long, some of the damage was irreparable. Jess had done his best to keep it up but there wasn’t much to be done when you had such a poor foundation to build upon.
“I think she feels like it would be a burden on us,” Gigi said. “She’s already so sensitive about her episodes and I think she likes living in town.”
“Well, my place is close to downtown and she could walk. Plus, I’d be there in case something happens to her. I’m going to ask her unless you think I shouldn’t.”
“Fine with me,” Jess said. “I’ll help do whatever to get her out of that shithole.”
Our conversation about Mom was cut short when we parked in front of the Claim Jumper bar. It was one of the few buildings in Prescott I hadn’t been inside before.
The room was long and narrow with dark wood paneling. The bar ran along one side of the room and a row of tall tables along its opposite. The mirrored shelves behind the bar were crowded with liquor bottles and old Montana license plates. Other Montana paraphernalia adorned the walls between multiple flat-screen TVs, including a framed state flag, a painted saw mill blade and a bison skull decorated with feathers and turquoise beads.
The place had character. I could see myself coming down to watch Seahawks games and drink a few beers. Make new memories in a place that wasn’t already heavy with history.
“There they are,” Gigi said, pointing toward the back of the room.
I followed her finger and my heart dropped. Silas and Maisy were sitting side by side at a table. Had I known he was going to be here, I would have at least worn nicer jeans.
Following Jess and Gigi through the room, I took a few deep breaths. Seeing Silas still made my belly flutter and adding Maisy into the mix wasn’t easing my nerves. I was glad that they weren’t a couple but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous of their close friendship.
“Hello.” I gave them a small wave and forced a smile.
Silas rumbled, “Hey,” but Maisy gave me a wary glance before focusing all her attention on Gigi and Jess. She must not have known that I was coming tonight either because she still wasn’t a fan. Glaring at her when she’d been talking to Silas in the motel lobby had done me no favors.
“Beer?” Jess asked and I nodded. After he came back from the bar with two beers and a vodka on the rocks—a.k.a. water—for Gigi, the group settled into conversation. Well . . . they talked. I listened.
“Did your new window shutters come in?” Gigi asked Maisy.
“No, they got delayed but Silas called them and talked them into doing rush shipping for free.”
“Bastards were going to charge her extra even though they dropped the ball.” He rested his arm across the back of her chair and I did my best to keep the smile on my face. I hated how affectionate he was with her and not me.
“Silas to the rescue,” Maisy teased, nudging him in the side with her shoulder. “Between him and Beau, I never have to make uncomfortable calls. If they think I’m even remotely being taken for a ride, they get all worked up and jump on the phone.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure you have enough money to make me your—”
“—buttermilk biscuits,” Maisy finished.
Silas patted his stomach and everyone laughed. I took a huge gulp of my beer instead.
Damn, this was uncomfortable. As far as I knew, no one knew about me and Silas. They were oblivious to how much his behavior with Maisy was shredding me. I’m sure they all thought I was being a stuck-up bitch, just sitting here and not participating in the conversation. The reality was I couldn’t speak, not with jealously and emotion clogging my throat.
I wanted his arm around my chair. I wanted to be the one cooking his favorites. I wanted to be the one finishing his sentences.
Silas had said that he and Maisy had dated briefly last summer, but had they been more serious than he’d let on? They acted like a long-standing couple, not casual friends. Any outsider would take one look at our table and identify me as the fifth wheel.
Two beers later, I couldn’t take it anymore. “I think I’m going to head home. I’ve got to catch up on some work tomorrow and the last thing I need is a hangover.”
“What? No!” Gigi protested.
“You guys stay and have fun. I’m just going to walk home and enjoy the quiet night.”
