Inheritance (The Lost Bride Trilogy, #1)(5)

Because it jittered, Sonya pressed a hand to her stomach.

“We just finalized the gift registry. And we had appointments tomorrow to look at two houses.”

“What we’re going to do is drink more wine. We’ll order pizza. You’ll lend me something to sleep in, and we’ll go over everything that needs to be done.”

“You’re going to stay?”

“Whenever my best friend, my college roomie, my partner in crime and sister of the heart finds her fiancé in bed with her cousin, I spend the night.”

For the first time, Sonya felt tears sting her eyes. But not from sorrow or pain, from sheer gratitude.

“Thanks. Just the thought of dealing with all this makes me want to crawl in a hole. No,” she corrected. “It makes me want to bury Brandon in one. I—” She broke off at the knock on the door, glanced over. “You don’t think…”

Cleo’s tiger eyes flashed. “Let me answer. I wish I had those combat boots, but a knee in the balls works.”





Chapter Two



But when Cleo yanked open the door, prepared for battle, Sonya’s mother, Winter, rushed in. She squeezed Cleo’s hand first, then went straight to her daughter.

“Honey, baby, I’m so sorry.” She wrapped Sonya tight, swayed. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He’s not worth it.” Turning her head, she pressed her lips to Sonya’s cheek. “I know you love him, but—”

“I don’t. I stopped. I don’t know if it’s supposed to work like that, but I stopped.”

“I don’t know either.” Winter drew back, cupped her daughter’s face, studied it. “But if it’s true, I’m glad. Anybody who hurts my girl doesn’t deserve love. I’m so glad you’re here, Cleo.” She reached back for Cleo’s hand.

“How do you know about it?” Sonya asked.

“Tracie—who will hear from me—went straight to her mother. Blubbering. Can I get in on that wine?”

“I’ll get you a glass,” Cleo said.

“Summer called me—after she’d mopped Tracie up and read her the riot act. Sonya, you know Summer loves you, so I hope you don’t blame her. She’s equal parts furious, mortified, and devastated.”

“I don’t blame her. Of course I don’t. Tracie’s an adult. An adult slut.”

“She—Tracie—claims it just happened. Thanks, sweetie,” she said when Cleo handed her a glass of wine. “What bullshit. Landing in bed with your cousin’s fiancé doesn’t just happen. And in your cousin’s house? In your cousin’s bed?”

“Red stilettos, a low-cut white dress, and sexy underwear. Just happened, my ass. She’s welcome to him.”

“I can promise you he won’t be welcome in my sister’s house. Now, I’m going to go strip those sheets off your bed.”

“I already did. I did that after I called Cleo. I thought about burning them, but they’re really good sheets. I’m going to send them out for laundering because I’m not going to wash them myself. Then I’ll donate them.”

Winter grabbed her into another hug, swayed with it.

“That’s my girl. You’re really all right?”

“I’m really mad. I’m so damn mad, and furious with myself for not seeing what he was.”

“I didn’t see it. I think I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I didn’t see it. You know what they say about hindsight. I can look back and say, oh sure, that, and that and there. I should’ve known. What good does that do?

“I’m going to sit.”

And she did.

“I was so worried I’d find you heartbroken that I didn’t have room to let the anger out. Now that I know you’re not? The hell with him.”

“The hell with him,” Cleo echoed, and walked over to tap her glass to Winter’s.

“Okay.” Sonya did the same. “The hell with him.”

“You need to change the locks.”

“I took his key, Mom.”

“Change them anyway. Where do you think he’ll go?”

“Don’t know.” Sonya toasted again. “Don’t care.”

“No, really. I’ve got another bottle of wine in the car. And boxes the nice young man at the liquor store gave me. We can use them to pack up his things—clean sweep. And I’ll take them to him.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, my only child, I insist.” Iced fury came into her mother’s changeable hazel eyes. “He’d probably go to Jerry’s, wouldn’t he? Best man, close friend. I can go by on my way home and dump them.”

“I love you, Winter.” Cleo sat beside her, snuggled in. “I love my mama, and I love you. Sonya and I hit the mama lottery. Maybe when we’re packing up his crap, some of those cashmere sweaters he’s so fond of end up with little pulls and snags. And it would be a shame if a couple of his fine leather jackets somehow ran into something sharp.”

“Girlfriends are the best friends,” Winter said. “We could do that, or we could let that go knowing he lost the best thing he could’ve had in his life. I’m betting he knows it.”