“You should tell her.”
“Tell her?”
She shrugs. “Yeah. I think Willa would want to know that.”
I snort. “So that I can scare her away?”
Her lips curve up slowly. “I don’t think you’ll be able to scare Willa away,” is all she says before giving me another squeeze and walking in the opposite direction.
She drops a truth bomb casually and then just leaves me to overanalyze the hell out of it.
The party is already in full swing by the time Talia deigns to bless us with her presence. I don’t even have to turn to see her because I hear, “My baaabyyy!” in her high, sugary voice.
Her baby. I can’t even stop my eyes from rolling up to the sky when I hear it. It’s a ridiculous thing to say to a child you see once a year and walked away from without a goodbye.
I catch sight of Willa talking to my dad and some of the other parents. She’s wearing an orange dress with little white polka dots and a soft flowing skirt. I want to flip it up and see what’s underneath.
But now, watching the way she stiffens and her fingers crinkle in on the poop emoji cup she’s holding, I want to throw my arm around her shoulder and reassure her. I want to make her cheeks pink again because they’re going pale right before my eyes.
She wouldn’t want me to though. She’s too fierce, too proud. So I look away, because if I stay eyeing her, I’m going to do it anyway.
Luke gives Talia a stiff hug, kind of patting her on her slender back as she mauls him. I wish she wouldn’t waltz into his party late, when she wanted it earlier, and still make it all about her.
If nothing else, it’s very on brand for her.
“Let me see you.” She’s dressed to the nines in a skin-tight dress and high heels that are sinking into the grass as she assesses him. “How did you grow up so fast?”
I hear Rhett snort.
Loud.
Loud enough that she turns a venomous glare at him.
He just smiles back. “Hi, Talia. Long time no see.”
Fucking shit disturber. I always bite my tongue about her around Luke because I want him to make his own decisions about his mother. If he wants a relationship with her one day, I don’t want him thinking I poisoned him against her. It kills me but I know it’s right.
Which is why I bite back my laugh at her brittle smile and the way her eyes pinch. She’s like this beautiful mirage on the outside, all sour on the inside. And if looks could kill, Rhett would keel over on the spot.
Luckily, that’s not the case, and he raises his poop emoji cup toward her in a silent cheers.
Behind me I hear a snicker that sounds distinctly like my dad. I don’t turn, though, because Luke is looking so uncomfortable with everyone watching that all I can think about is getting to him.
“Hi, Talia.” I interrupt the awkward moment by striding forward with my hand out to shake hers as I give Luke’s shoulder a firm squeeze.
“Oh please, Cade. Are we so far gone that we need to shake hands?” Her giggle trills and grates on my nerves. It doesn’t sound like wind chimes the way Willa’s did that day in Le Pamplemousse or the way it does when I step into the house after a long, hard day at work. And Luke’s doesn’t blend in with it at all.
Luke stands there awkwardly, most likely hitting the age where he’s piecing these things together, noting the body language and drawing his own conclusions.
I stand woodenly while Talia wraps her arms around me. One hand rubs up the back of my neck, and I instantly reach up and grip her elbow, pulling her arm away, even as she sneaks a kiss against my cheek.
“Oh gosh”—she laughs—“let me get that for you.” And then she’s standing close to me, licking her thumb and rubbing at my cheek, trying to get the thick layer of lipstick off my skin.
Marking her territory.
It’s been years and Talia hasn’t changed a bit. She’s always playing some game. The difference is that now I see it. I didn’t all those years ago. I saw a pretty package and a willing body.
I was horny and stupid, and she was calculated.
“It’s fine. I’ll get it.” I step away as the surrounding conversation picks back up, which somehow makes me feel better. Like our complicated little family isn’t the center of attention. I desperately want to turn around and check on Willa, but I also know Talia will pick up on it immediately.
And I’m not subjecting Willa to her shit. Not until things with her and me are solid. Official.
I should have made things official already. I’m kicking myself now. The pads of my fingers itch to touch her, to run over her neck reassuringly. Possessively.