She gives my arm a squeeze. “For the record, I think it’s great he’s back. Hear him out, Meems. Give him a chance.”
“Sunny Mayfield, you were the one who told me to forget him in the first place.”
She smiles down at Branson. “That was before we found out about this cute little nugget.” Her eyes meet mine. “And that was before Knox, who didn’t even know about him, came back for you. And when he did find out, he dove in headfirst. I just think, after all this time, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you decide to see where it goes.”
“Sunny, it’s not just about me anymore. I have a baby to think about.”
“Exactly, Amelia.”
She’s right. I know it. It’s not like Knox and I ended on bad terms.
We just…ended.
“I love him, Sunny,” I whisper like it’s a secret so great that the world would end if too many people knew.
“He loves you, too.”
I swallow hard, wishing it to be true. “Do you think so?”
“Don’t be a nitwit, Meems. Why else would he be here? He didn’t know about Branson. Hell, he practically bit my head off when I wouldn’t tell him where you were. The look on his face? It was the look of a guy in love with a girl he was desperate to find.”
“He went to Mickeys?”
“First, he came here. Grandma tried telling him off. According to her, all he did was scowl until she closed the door in his face. The woman swears he was going to break down her door. But you know her; she’s watched too many episodes of All My Children. All the scandal’s gone to her head. That and the blue hair dye.”
“Knox would never break her door down. Mine? That’s pretty much a given.” I laugh for what feels like the first time in forever.
Sunny nods her agreement. “He came stormin’ into Mickey’s like the dogs of war were on his ass. I may have given him a bit of sass.”
My eyebrows narrow. While I may be conflicted about the future with Knox, she should have told him immediately where I was.
“Calm down! It took about two seconds for Joe to commandeer the conversation and spill the beans of where you were without telling him about the baby. That’s when Knox’s face went pale. If he hadn’t been so determined to get to you, I’m afraid he might’ve passed out right there on the bar floor. And it’s a good thing he didn’t. It’s Sam’s turn to mop the floors and you know how not thorough he can be.”
I bite my lower lip, remembering what Knox said in the hospital. Sunny’s right. He didn’t know about Branson, yet he came back to Crystal Cove looking for me. That had to mean something good, right?
Sunny takes my hand. “He’s here, Amelia. And he didn’t hightail it back to Nashville the moment he found out about Branson. From what I’ve seen? He was born for the role of proud papa. Give him a chance. Hear him out. Let. Him. In.”
Easier said than done.
“It’s not that simple, Sunny.”
She starts to protest, so I squeeze her hand.
“But I’ll try. For Branson.”
“And for you.”
My heart flutters at the thought.
I hope like hell she’s right.
Because if she’s not, I’m not sure I can handle the heartbreak of losing him a second time.
My conversation with Sunny took a bit of the edge off. She lost the attitude from the night at the bar. I wasn’t bitter about it. She was just trying to protect her best friend, and for that, I can be grateful. A little. Okay, not really, but since I can’t wring her neck, I decided to forget about it. The chagrin in her expression probably helped.
“Knox, I’m so sorry. I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. When you gave me your info, I stored it in the drawer at Mickey’s. I had no idea Mickey would get a bug up his ass and decide to go on a fall cleaning spree and get rid of it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Mickey did that?”
“Yeah. It happens every couple of years. Usually he gives us plenty of notice. Not this time. Guess he figured it was just some random phone number and address. Not to toot my horn or anything, but when Joe’s not in the bar—or when his back’s turned—I get a number every now and then.”
“Not surprised at all, Sunny. Makes sense why Mickey would just toss it.”
“Anyways, I felt like an absolute twit. I shouldn’t have left it there in the first place.” She let out a deep breath. “I guess… I just thought you’d come back. A lot sooner than now.”
I toyed with the label on my beer bottle. “I should have.”
She offered me a warm smile. “Don’t worry about that. You’re here now.” Then she gave my forearm a squeeze. “I just want you to know I’m rooting for you guys. We all are. Even Sam.” She chuckled as I puffed up my chest. “Calm down, killer. He sees her like a little sister and vice versa. She didn’t even look at another man after you left. Now, you’re pretty great to look at, but there’s a baby in the house and these arms are way too empty.”
“If she starts to get tired—”
Sunny interrupted me with a boisterous laugh. “Don’t worry, papa bear. I won’t wear her out.”
With that, she flounced out of the room, the echo of her coos floating down the hall as she got her hands on my son.
My son.
Wonder how long it’ll take to get used to that.
I rest my hips back against the counter, taking a swig of a cold one, which is not nearly strong enough for my taste. But with my newborn son under the same roof, the last thing I’m going to do it tie one on. He needs me. She needs me.
My chest heaves as I release a deep sigh. I listen for a few beats, the sounds of Sunny’s and Amelia’s low murmurs and soft giggles floating down the hall. With this being Amelia’s first night home, I decide to give them space. For now. Plus, I have something I have to do. Part of me is bursting. The other part? That part has no fucking clue what to expect. But it doesn’t matter. Time to rip the Band-Aid off.
I cross the kitchen to the phone on the wall. Before I can change my mind, I pick up the receiver and dial my parents’ home telephone number. It’s Saturday, and I’m hoping they’re home together so I only have to spill the news once. And only get an earful once.
Fat chance.
“Wellington residence. How many I help you?”
I blow out a breath for the brief reprieve. “Hey, Jaclyn. It’s Knox.”
Our housekeeper’s smile practically radiates through the phone. “Oh, Knox, it’s so good to hear from you!”
I can’t help the wry smile that crosses my lips. “I’ve only been gone for a couple of days.”
“Psh,” she replies.
She’s worked for my parents’ estate since before I was born. She’s more like an aunt than my parents’ employee, and the affection goes both ways.
“Are my parents in?”
“Of course. Your mother’s in the kitchen with Maria, preparing a salad and her famous German potato salad, enjoying a nice red. I believe your father and Clay are outside working the grill. Probably with bourbon.”
I grin at Jaclyn’s conspiratorial tone. It’s like she’s warning me that my parents are imbibing without even knowing why I might appreciate the alert.