He chuckled then, and I knew that sound. It was deeper now and belonged to a grown man not the boy I remembered. It was him. But why? How?
I shook my head and laughed. “What?” I asked, unsure how to finish that question. I hadn’t thought of Tate in years. Most of my memories from the house I had grownup in I had blocked out. Kept in a dark corner that I didn’t explore. Unfortunately, Tate had been shoved away with them. Even though he had been my first best friend and back then possibly my only real friend.
He gave me a crooked grin. “What am I doing here?” he asked for me.
I managed a nod.
He sighed then and ran a hand through his blond hair. It hadn’t darkened over the years and was still as pale as it had been when we were younger. “That’s a good question, Mags,” he said, then lifted his shoulders. “I’ve been asking myself the same damn thing the entire drive here.”
That did nothing to answer my question. I waited, and he glanced back at the car in the driveway. It was a shiny black Mercedes. Tate’s family was wealthy, and I wouldn’t expect him to drive anything less impressive. Even if he was… twenty-four now? Or was he twenty-three? I couldn’t remember.
“You’re talking again. That’s good,” he said.
I didn’t reply because I wasn’t sure what to say. This was so strange.
“Can we go get some coffee? Or maybe lunch? To talk,” he asked, looking at me hopefully.
“Did you come to Lawton to see me?” I asked him finally.
He flashed me that grin again. “Yeah, Mags. I did. I can explain myself if you’ll come with me to get some food.” His gaze dropped to my hands then, and I saw something that seemed awfully close to relief in his eyes.
“I, uh…” I paused and tried to remember where I had left my phone. “I need to call,” I started, then stopped again. Referring to West as my boyfriend seemed strange. We were more than that. Especially now. We may not be engaged, but we were going to be parents. That was more than a simple boyfriend. “Let me get my phone. Uh, come on in a second,” I told him, then walked back to the kitchen to find my cell phone still on the table.
Picking it up I saw no missed calls. There was one text from Aunt Coralee asking me how I felt about chicken Parmesan for dinner. I quickly responded that it sounded great to me.
Then I typed out a text to West telling him to call me. Explaining Tate and his sudden appearance felt strange in a text. Especially when I didn’t even know what to think of it.
I hit send, then went back to tell Tate that lunch would be fine.
CHAPTER THREE
WEST
“Thought I might find you here.” Brady’s voice didn’t surprise me. I had heard a vehicle drive up and the door slam closed. I figured it was him when I ignored his last two texts.
“Yeah,” I replied.
He came to stand beside me, but I couldn’t count on him remaining silent. He always talked too damn much.
“Can’t imagine you’re getting cold feet on this. But then I was supposed to get the final plan from you this morning for tonight, and I’ve not heard from you. Not sure what to think now.”
Brady was the only person I’d told about my plans to propose to Maggie tonight. I had needed him to set somethings up for me, and I’d asked him weeks ago. I had assumed he’d have questions. Even if I wasn’t in the mood to talk about this.
“Don’t want to talk right now,” I told him.
He sighed, but I knew that wasn’t going to shut him up. “Don’t care,” he replied. “You may be my best friend, but Maggie is my cousin. If you’re planning on hurting her, I need to know now, so I can sufficiently beat your ass and some sense into you.”
I shot him an annoyed glare. “I’d never hurt her.”
He raised his eyebrows at me as if he wasn’t so sure. “You’ve been together seven years. You’re living together. Planning your future together. Why the fuck have you waited so long to put a ring on her finger?”
Brady could piss me off enough to get me to talk. He was good at that. “Because we both needed to get our degrees and there wasn’t time to focus on planning a wedding. Maggie never brought it up or even hinted she wanted to be engaged. I was following her lead.”
Brady let out a hard, short laugh that held little amusement. “I’d say moving in together is a fucking hint.”
I knew that just as I knew she was ready to take the next step. But I wanted that to be special. I wanted the memory of my asking her to marry me to be something she always remembered fondly. How was I supposed to do that whenmy head was messed the fuck up? My mom was married. It was like my dad had never existed. She barely knew me anymore.
“Right now isn’t the time,” I said.