You Were Mine Read online

  “Well, that lasted all of twenty minutes,” Blaire drawled as she went over to get a margarita.

  “He’s getting better,” Harlow added.

  Lila Kate fisted a handful of Grant’s shirt like she was holding on for dear life. Her head was tucked up against his neck. She looked completely content.

  “She needed her daddy. Y’all leave us alone,” he said in a soft voice as he turned to head back out of the kitchen. “I’m taking her back outside with me,” he called out behind him.

  Harlow took another drink and shook her head, still grinning as she watched them walk off. “I swear, I’m going to have my hands full when she gets older. He spoils her rotten.”

  Della walked over and sat down with the bowl of fruit. “I will admit, seeing him with her makes me want to have babies tomorrow.”

  Everyone laughed, because we knew we were all thinking the same thing. Grant Carter wrapped around a fifteen-pound bundle of pink sweetness would make any female want babies.

  Tripp

  Grant walked back outside with Lila Kate in his arms. She was tucked up against his chest like it was the only place she wanted to be.

  I could have had that.

  Dammit, there was that sharp pain that came along with the thought. We had been kids. It wouldn’t have been the fairy tale Grant’s fatherhood had turned out to be. Shoving that thought aside, I glanced over at London, who was texting. She’d been doing that since we had come out here. Perfecting the art of looking completely bored and messing with her phone.

  Della had been generous enough to invite her to stay in the kitchen with them when we arrived, but London had held on tightly to me and declined the offer. So she could come out here to play on her phone, apparently. I reached for the beer Woods had brought me and took a long drink.

  “The girls have margaritas inside, London,” Grant said. “I’m sure they would be happy to share.”

  She glanced up from her phone and gave him a flirty smile. She’d done that several times since we’d come out here. “I’m fine out here. Thank you, though.”

  He shrugged and took his seat, adjusting Lila Kate on his shoulder. She lifted her head and gave us a brief appraisal before sticking her thumb in her mouth and laying her head back on his chest again.

  “Grill will be ready for the steaks in a few minutes,” Woods announced, standing up and going over to check on the flame. “Y’all know how your women want their steaks cooked?” he asked.

  “Harlow is medium well,” Grant said. “I’m medium.”

  “Blaire and I are both medium,” Rush said as he walked behind Nate, who was scrambling up the stairs.

  “Medium well,” I said, then turned to London. “What about you?”

  She glanced up and scrunched her nose. “I don’t eat red meat.”

  I had told the woman we were going to a barbecue. What the hell did she think we were going to eat? “So you’re not going to eat?” I asked.

  She gave a small shrug. “I’m sure they have salad or something.”

  Woods cleared his throat and glanced back down at the fire. He was trying not to laugh. “One of you run and ask Bethy how she eats her steak.”

  “She likes it well done. We’ve had this conversation with her before. Blaire was appalled and accused her of ruining a good piece of meat,” Rush said.

  Bethy was here. I hadn’t realized she’d arrived.

  And the fact that Rush knew how she took her steak annoyed me. I didn’t know shit like that. I’d never eaten steak with Bethy.

  “I’m going to go see what other sides Della has, and, uh . . .” I stood up, making an excuse to go inside. “I’ll be right back.”

  I didn’t wait for London to say she was going with me.

  Stepping into the house, I heard their laughter immediately. Bethy’s stood out among the others. She was enjoying their company. I almost turned around and went back outside. Seeing me might ruin the happy mood she was in. I never brought a smile to her face. But I wanted to see her.

  When I entered the kitchen, Blaire’s eyes met mine, and she smiled. “Hey, Tripp.”

  The other three heads turned in my direction. Although I didn’t miss that Bethy’s was the last to look my way, I smiled and tried to look casual. “You bored with the male conversation outside?” Della asked.

  “Y’all look like you’re having more fun in here,” I replied.

  “Oh, we are,” Della assured me.

  They all were looking at me as if they wanted to know why I had come into their lair. I had to say something. Staring at Bethy was too obvious. “I was just checking to see what sides you have to go with the steak. London doesn’t eat red meat.”

  As soon as it was out of my mouth, I wanted to pull it back in. Why had I brought up London, dammit? Bethy turned to study her margarita, and Harlow reached for some fruit. Blaire actually glared at me.

  I’d pissed off the women. Great.

  “Uh, sure. We have strawberry salad, baked potatoes, asparagus, and butter rolls. If I’d known she didn’t eat red meat, I could have gotten her some salmon.”

  Bethy was drinking her margarita like it was water. Her laughter was gone, and it was all my fault. Just because I wanted to see her.

  “That’s fine. She knew it was a barbecue. She should have spoken up before now. She can eat the sides. Sure she eats some of that.”

  “She can eat the spinach leaves out of the strawberry salad. I’m sure that’s what she normally eats,” Bethy said, and tipped her margarita glass back again.

  Harlow’s eyes went wide, and Blaire ducked her head to snicker.

  No one else said anything.

  Was Bethy taking a jab at London? Or was I reading this wrong?

  “I’m sure you’re right,” I finally replied, and Bethy turned her head to look up at me. I was afraid I would see something there that would upset me, but instead, she looked ready to laugh. Her lips pressed together as if she was holding in her amusement. She was making fun of London. My chest tightened. She was jealous. Bethy wasn’t exactly moving on after all.

  “You should probably get back outside. You left London out there with the men. I’m sure she’s bored,” Blaire said.

  I glanced over at her and nodded. They were kicking me out. I got that.

  Right when I opened the door to walk outside, I heard the first laugh. Then the entire kitchen broke into laughter. Smiling, I closed the door behind me.

  Woods turned around with an amused look. “What’d you say to make them laugh like that?”

  I shrugged. “I’m a funny guy.”

  “Who lied to you?” Grant asked.

  I ignored him and looked at London. “You eat raw spinach?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Bethy

  Dinner had been interesting. Thad got there just in time to eat—he’d been caught up in a meeting with his dad. I was relieved to see him. Being the odd one out was awkward, but Thad being there without a date made it OK.

  After downing the margarita to deal with Tripp being in the kitchen, worrying about London, I switched to water. I was done numbing myself with the stuff.

  Blaire sat across from me, and Della was on the other side of Thad. Tripp and London were at the other end of the table near Grant and Harlow. It made it easier not to look at them.

  “I’m glad everyone was able to come tonight. You are our closest friends, and you’ve become my family,” Della said, smiling as she looked over at Woods.

  Conversation ceased, and all eyes had moved to Della.

  “We wanted to tell you all at the same time, so we figured this would be an excuse to get together and let you all know our good news. I’m pregnant!”

  The room erupted in cheers, and Blaire jumped up to throw her arms around Della, while Woods got pats on the back from the men. I moved in behind Blaire to hug Della and congratulate her.

  “I’m so happy for you,” I said.

  “Thank you,” she said with a big grin.
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br />   Turning around, my eyes caught Tripp’s as he watched me. I wondered if he was thinking about our baby. I wanted him to know the truth. Not that it changed anything for him. I had been the one most affected by it. But still, he should know.

  I looked away and walked back to my seat. Thad reached over and took my water glass. “Don’t drink the damn water. It’s contagious. They’re all popping out kids left and right.”

  I laughed so hard I laid my head on his shoulder. He was right. I was beginning to think it was in the water. When I could catch my breath, he patted my leg and grinned. “We have to watch out for each other. The domino effect, you know.”

  What he didn’t realize was that I wanted that life. The one with the husband who adored me and loved our children. Glancing over at Grant, I watched him kiss Lila Kate’s head as he held her. Then I watched Nate crawl up into Blaire’s lap and wrap his little arms around her neck and squeeze hard.

  “You look happier,” Thad said, still looking at me.

  I turned my attention to him. “I am. It’s getting better. I’m getting better.”

  He nodded and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, then tucked his head toward mine. “We all love you. You know that, right? Even Woods. We all want you happy.”

  Tears stung my eyes, and I let him hold me a minute. “I’m very lucky,” I replied.

  “Yeah, you are. We’re pretty damn awesome,” he teased.

  My happy laughter dried up the tears.

  When I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment, the Harley parked under the streetlight and the rider leaning against it caught my attention. It was Tripp. I couldn’t see his face, but his height and the bike gave him away.

  What I didn’t know was why he was here and how the heck he’d beaten me home from the barbecue.

  After locking up my car, I walked toward him. He moved away from his bike and headed my way.

  “What are you doing?” I asked once he was close enough.

  “Wanted to talk to you without an audience. Can I come in?”

  Tripp in my apartment. Was I ready for that? Right now, I had no fond memories in my apartment. No one had visited; it was just a place where I slept and hid from the world. Bringing Tripp into it would change that. He would be a part of it.

  “Please,” he said, his voice pleading.

  I gave in. “Sure, OK.”

  He fell into step behind me as we walked to the stairs.

  “How did you beat me here?” I asked.

  “I had Thad take me to my bike and let London go on home in her car. She won’t ride on my bike, so we never take it.”

  How did he expect to have a relationship with someone who wouldn’t ride on his bike? “Sounds like a winning combination. No red meat or motorcycles. Y’all have a lot in common,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

  Tripp stopped walking, and I wondered if I had made him angry. We were almost at my door. I turned to look at him, not afraid of a confrontation. If he wanted to be a baby, then fine. I had only been joking. Sort of. “You don’t like London,” he said, watching me.

  I could lie. But I wouldn’t. “I didn’t like her eight years ago, either.”

  He tilted his head to the side and studied me. “I know why you didn’t like her then. Why don’t you like her now?”

  Was he seriously going to do this here? I shrugged and tried to blow it off. Pulling out my keys, I unlocked my door. “She hasn’t changed.”

  My door swung open, and he walked in close behind me, as if trying to crowd me so I couldn’t run back outside. I hated that my body tingled when he was close. I needed space, dammit. “You didn’t like her eight years ago because she was my ex-girlfriend. You were jealous of any attention she gave me.”

  I dropped my purse and keys on the table and spun around. “That’s true. What do you want, Tripp? You want me to admit that I’m jealous of her now? Because she’s with you? Is that what you’re getting at? Will that make you feel better?”

  His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me to him. “Yes, Bethy, it would make my fucking year. Because if you’re jealous of London, then I still have a chance. And this isn’t over.”

  I had to keep breathing. His hold sent an electric current buzzing through my arm. My heart was in a frenzy, and the butterflies in my stomach were at it again.

  “Is that it? Are you jealous of London?” His words came out in a low, husky voice.

  I wanted to lie to him, because admitting the truth would open this back up again. I’d closed the door, and he had walked away. But I hadn’t been happy. I had missed him. I had stood at my window at night and stared across the street. I’d missed seeing his bike parked there as he watched over me. Every time I went to my car to leave and he wasn’t around, I knew I’d done this. I had pushed him too hard. “Yes,” I finally said.

  Tripp’s jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with satisfaction. Then the veins on his neck showed up, and I braced myself.

  Tripp

  Calm. I had to remain calm. But I wanted to haul her into my arms and kiss her until neither one of us could breathe. She was jealous. She cared enough to not like seeing me with someone else. Hell yeah!

  “Then what does that mean, Bethy? You wanted me out of your life, and I backed out.” I was taking a risk. I knew it, but I had to know.

  She looked away from me and focused her eyes on something over my shoulder. “Maybe it means I’ll always feel this way.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know I miss you.” She stopped and rubbed her hands over her face and let out a frustrated growl. “I don’t know! This thing with us . . .” She dropped her hands and looked at me. “There’s something you need to know. Or something I need you to know. I want you to know.”

  She was breaking down. Her defenses were finally falling away, and if I was going to get a chance to get into her life, this would be it. “I’m listening.”

  Bethy motioned to the sofa and chair in her small studio apartment. I hadn’t even looked around until that moment. This wasn’t where she belonged. I didn’t want her here. There was paint peeling on the walls, and the blinds were broken. Masking tape lined the window, and her sofa was patched several times. I kept my face neutral. I didn’t want her to think I looked down on her because of where she lived. I just hated knowing that while I went to bed at night in a luxury condo, she was here with bolts and chains on her damn door.

  Bethy sat down on a vinyl chair that had seen better days back in the seventies. I took a seat on the sofa.

  “I didn’t have an abortion. I miscarried,” she said.

  That snapped me out of my unhappy thoughts about her apartment. “What?”

  She let out a sigh, and her shoulders relaxed. “My aunt Darla said she’d help me do something with the baby. I thought that was her gentle way of telling me she’d take me to get an abortion. I curled up in a ball and cried for two days after that and grieved for the baby I didn’t know. I didn’t want an abortion, but I was sixteen, and my father would never allow me to have a child. My aunt Darla was all I had, and if she was taking me to get an abortion, then I had no one in my life who would support my decision to have a child. I called you several times in hopes you could help me, but I never got through to you.

  “When I was eight weeks along, my aunt forced me to go to a clinic; I assumed it was an abortion clinic. I’d never been so terrified in my life. All morning, I had been cramping, but I figured it was from all the crying and the knots in my stomach. Then the doctor examined me, and I was bleeding. I didn’t know about that until this past week. I was given a shot for the pain because I was in the middle of an early miscarriage. My memories of that moment got muddled by the drugs.

  “When I woke up, I was at Aunt Darla’s, and I was bleeding heavily. She told me the baby was gone, so I assumed they’d performed the abortion while I was under. We never discussed it, because it was too painful. This past week, Aunt Darla said something about my miscarriage, and I was confused. She told me the rea
l story. She said she never would have made me get an abortion.”

  She finally stopped talking and dropped her eyes to her hands.

  “I’ve blamed myself and lived with that guilt for so long when I never had to. I wanted you to know the real story. That I hadn’t wanted to abort our baby. That when it was time, I was ready to do whatever I had to in order to keep it.”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat, overwhelmed by Bethy’s story. Not once had I blamed her. I had gotten drunk and remained that way for more than a week when I had finally gotten up the nerve to listen to my voice mails. I’d no longer had my phone with me, the one my parents had paid for, but I could access the voice mail remotely. When Bethy’s desperate pleas for help had ended with a final message saying she’d had an abortion, my world had stopped.

  I’d thrown a chair across the room at the cheap hotel I’d been staying at and shattered it. Then I’d put my hand through the Sheetrock before falling to my knees and sobbing. My next step had been to drink. I’d had to numb the pain. Bethy wouldn’t want me to come back and get her, like I planned. I’d destroyed her. I’d destroyed me. I couldn’t face her.

  But never had I blamed her. She’d been so young and scared. Her father was hardly ever home, and she worked a job to help pay the bills. I hadn’t been listening to voice mails, afraid to hear what my parents had to say. As a result, I’d ruined my life.

  I needed to tell her the truth about why I left. Now.

  “Bethy, if I had stayed here, my parents would have sent me to Yale. I would have spent more than four years there. On holidays, they would have made me go with my family to Boston. Then the summers would’ve been spent at the law firm in Manhattan. My days at Rosemary Beach were over.

  “So I had to run. If I ran away and found a way to become independent from them, then they wouldn’t have any power over me, and I could come back and see you. Then, when you turned eighteen, you could come with me. That was the only answer I could find. I didn’t want to lose you.”

  I watched her face as she listened to me. I had tried to explain this to her so many times. But this time, she was listening to me. Finally.