Chapter 2

Brooklyn

When I get into the café, Aunt May is restocking the cake fridge. She's not mine, or anyone's aunt around here, but she insists everyone calls her that. Aunt May and her husband, Mike, have owned the cafe for decades. Her daughter runs it now with her kids, but her parents still help out.

"Brook, sweetheart, how have you been?" She's all smiles when she sees me enter.

"All the better now for seeing you, Aunt May. You're looking well."

She laughs, pushing her wide-rimmed glasses up on top of her head. "You always were quite the charmer."

"Well, I try my best." I hold my hand to my heart with a healthy grin to match.

I have been known to charm a woman or two over the years, so I suppose she isn't too far wrong. "Have you seen my wi—" Fuck, nearly spilled the beans. "Umm, the lovely Eden?"

"Right over there." Aunt May points to the far table by the window where I now see Eden sitting with her diary open, tapping her pen against the table while she waits.

My heart does a flip.

Fucking hell. Not this again.

"We're discussing Blake's birthday," I clarify.

"Ah. How old is the little darling again?"

"She'll be eleven in exactly two weeks."

"Eleven!" Aunt May tsks. "Where does the time go? I remember all too well when Eden came into this very cafe, as pregnant as the day is long, craving for sweet iced tea and lemon bars. It feels like yesterday." She obviously remembers it fondly, judging by her smile and that twinkle in her eye.

My heart lurches hearing that memory. I haven't thought about her weird cravings in years. Or Eden pregnant with Blake.

"You know what, I remember that now you've said it, Aunt May."

She wore cute dresses with bows and denim dungarees, which I still find hot.

Oh, she became a farm girl not long after our roll in the hay. The barn often became our hotspot when no one was around. I even took her once in the vault after dark — it was so hot. I was showing her the vintage oak barrels and the new bottling machinery. It all got too much. She liked it when I explained the bourbon making process.

Some say I corrupted her, and it's probably true. But it was in the best kind of way, and we always had a lot of fun together.

Aunt May glances over to Eden, still busily concentrating on her diary, then looks back to me. "You kids still fighting it?" She chuckles good naturedly.

One thing is for sure, you can always count on Aunt May to give it to you straight between the eyes. I guess she has known me my whole life, so she's kinda earned that right.

"Am I that transparent?" I joke.

"Not really, just whenever I see you two it seems obvious you still care for one another. And it's a beautiful thing in this day and age."

"We make it work. We're just friends, though."

She smiles like she doesn't believe me and says, "Go take a seat, honey. I'll come over and take your order."

I'm glad she doesn't press me to elaborate on my wife and our situation. Who knows what I might blurt out. I smile as I walk toward Eden. A lump forms in my throat seeing her sitting there so quietly, efficiently working, without a care in the world.

"Baby Doll." It's her old high school nickname. I had a range of cute names for her over the years which I alternated with. She always used to call me Brookie, but she hasn't in years.

"Brooklyn." She glances up at me with her clear rimmed glasses on, and that smile that could light up the darkest of nights. "I haven't heard you say Baby Doll in years."

I chuckle. "When I saw you sitting there with your glasses on and your nose in a book, it just kinda slipped out." I palm the back of my neck.

And you used to love the way I'd remove those glasses, folding the arms in and tucking them in my back pocket while I had my way with you. Over and over again.

"You look good," she says.

I plonk myself down. Taking off my signature cowboy hat and placing it on the booth seat next to me as I ruffle my hair.

"The beard really suits you."

I grin at the sound of that. I've been growing my scruff a little here and there, it's short and manageable. Unlike me, Eden doesn't have to try, she always looks good.

"Got a little sun and forgot to shave, that's all it is." I give her a chin lift. "What you doin' so busily there?"

She smiles softly, those dimples in her cheeks appearing. "Just making some to-do lists for Blake's party. Do you want a coffee first? We can go over a few things."

I guess that's why we're here after all. "Sure thing."

Aunt May is on her way over, so we order a coffee each and two of her homemade blueberry muffins.

"Aunt May asked me why we still fight it," I say from nowhere once she's out of earshot. I run a hand through my hair, suddenly feeling nervous but trying not to show it.

She stops tapping her pen and glances up at me. "Fight what?"

I shrug nonchalantly. "Who knows? Maybe she thinks we still have a spark. You know how people like to gossip and don't get how we're still friends." I clear my throat. "So, how's things with Kirk by the way?"

She stares at me for a long, hard moment, and for a second I have no idea what she's about to say. She's been seeing this guy for a few months, apparently he lives down in Atlanta, Georgia. "Things are good," she says, but doesn't elaborate. I suppose why would she elaborate to her ex-husband, or should I say, husband.

Fuck. It's like I keep forgetting that little detail. Sitting here now with her, watching her shoulder length curls bounce as she moves her head, I feel like I'm home. It's the small things no one else would notice; like the way she smooths out the page of her diary before she starts writing, all with her fresh manicure. I think it's called a French manicure. The cute thoughtful face that she uses when planning special occasions, like adding to Blake's party list. The way her long lashes frame her beautiful hazel eyes that look more ochre in the morning light of the cafe, and the sweet freckles on her nose.

It's her ‘vibe' as Georgia-Blue would call it. Her vibe is like a draw card.

One that I was never, ever able to resist.

And it's happening again. I feel it.

The pull is getting stronger whenever I see her.

Fuck. I think I still love her… I mean, I've always loved her, but I've never said it to anyone else.

I try to distract myself from thinking about how we used to be together. I try to focus on what she's saying and Blake's birthday presents. But all I can think about is her.

Us.

My wife.

Eden

I'm used to Brooklyn Bassett and the many ways and means he has that can draw a laugh or a smile right out of me, oh so effortlessly. He's always been that way. But one thing I'm not used to is him asking about my love life. That's probably because I haven't had much to write home about over the years after we split. It was always Brooklyn for me growing up, the only man I'd ever known and been with. The early days without him were really, really hard.

But the fact is, we were both so young and we were all each other knew back then.

Looking at him now in the cafe, it still stirs something deep within me. Those slight butterflies in my tummy and the way I hang on to every word, even if I don't show it. I can't let it come to the surface, because I really like Kirk. He can be intense, but he's also sweet and funny and though we're taking things slow, I feel like things could work between us.

I've no idea why I'm thinking about my ex-husband in any other way than a friend. Going down that old path again with Brooklyn would only cause us both more heartache.

I mean, who walks out of their lawyer-friend's office hand-in-hand after getting divorce advice? Okay, maybe Priscilla and Elvis, but it's not exactly common.

Many people have asked us that question before: why do we fight it?

But we became different people as we grew up, and we both wanted to focus on our careers. I guess that resulted in less time spent on our marriage.

Did we let it slip away? Yes. Things changed when Blake was born and we became all too consumed in our baby, and our work, but forgot about ourselves.

I think about it for a few moments. "Why would she say that about us?" I think I know why, but I'm curious about his answer to Aunt May's question.

It's also awkward with him asking about Kirk. I don't want to talk about this with him.

Especially because I can't help but notice how good my ex-husband looks in his dark jeans, a charcoal polo shirt and that familiar vanilla-cedar scent that takes me back to places I shouldn't go. I remember his aftershave well; it has undertones of oakmoss and amber, something that goes straight to the jugular, or in my case, that thrum deep in my lower belly.

He's always been well dressed and puts effort into styling his dark hair, even when it's usually covered with a cowboy hat most days. All the Bassett children are gifted with thick and full mahogany hair, and deep-as-the-ocean blue eyes. His beard is cute, he keeps it well-groomed and I would suspect he uses some kind of beard oil because it looks so soft. Despite his nonchalance, I know he spends time looking his best.

He may be a farm boy at heart who works endless hours on the Bassett property in his beloved cellar, but he still knows how to present himself even for a casual coffee date with me.

"Maybe she sees something we don't," he says casually, shrugging his shoulders. "Kinda like a bartender does, but in a coffee sense."

A little smile tugs at my lips, and I'm caught up for a moment as I blurt out, "You think Aunt May has an insight into people's deepest desires?"

He gives me a lopsided look and stares at me intensely. His cheeky smile appears in seconds. "Why, Edes, are you going to fill me in on some of yours?"

I flush for a second, looking down at my diary. He still has the ability to make me come unstuck. And it's not fair to my new beau that I'm even reacting like this. Usually Brook and I are just in parenting mode. I mean, he flirts with everyone, but he's never been as intense with me as he has been in the last couple of weeks — not since we were together all those years ago. I don't know what's going on with him.

He's carefree as he always is, but I know him well enough to see something lurking under the surface. He never could keep his inner monologue totally hidden, and has often worn his heart on his sleeve.

"That's not what I meant," I tell him.

His grin is about a mile wide. "You sure, Baby Doll?"

Again with the Baby Doll? See that right there.

"I'm totally sure, Brook. What's gotten into you?"

"Don't blame me, it's the folk around here that talk too much."

"They still don't believe it's real how well we co-parent and actually like each other even though we're divorced."

"I think we deserve gold stars." He chuckles.

That's one thing we agreed on long ago, to not have a shit fight if we ever broke up.

Blake's upbringing was too important to us for that, and we wanted to maintain a healthy relationship between the two of us and both our families. We've known each other for too long and been through too much to turn on each other and make things hard.

"I think so too. Speaking of gold stars, Blake asked for a gold themed party, you know like the glittery kind. She also asked for some gold cowgirl boots for boot scooting."

Brooklyn laughs heartily. I have to admit, it is pretty cute of her. She and Brook go together sometimes on Tuesdays when Blake doesn't have anything on after school. "That's my daughter," he says. "What else is on that list, by the way? She hasn't given me much to go on."

"She told me the other night she wants to donate what we would usually spend on presents to Stoney Creek Paws animal rescue. I think your influence is really rubbing off on her," I say, just as Aunt May delivers our coffee and muffins on a tray.

"Enjoy, sweethearts." She gives us a knowing little smile before she totters off back to the counter.

Brook and I both laugh. Could she make it any more obvious?

"That doesn't surprise me," Brooks goes on thoughtfully, resting his head on his hand. "She's completely obsessed with Sawyer, the new donkey."

"How's Sawyer doing by the way?" Blake told me she was rescued a few months back from a bad case of neglect.

"She's doing much better than when she came in," Brook sighs. "She's absolutely beautiful, Edes. You should come over for a visit. It's like a zoo at my place."

"I've been meaning to do that. Blake is always talking about all the animals and how much she loves helping you."

Brook taught me to ride horses when we were kids. I've been riding with him and Blake many times over the Bassett property and beyond. It's one of the things we loved to do way back when.

"She's so good with all of them. She's been bugging me about getting a dog." He swipes a hand over his face with a chuckle.

"She loves Noodle to death."

That's my other baby; my white Maltese shih tzu I adopted as a puppy from Stoney Creek Paws, the same pet rescue Blake wants to donate her birthday money to.

"Where is the little tyke?" Brooklyn asks. Noodle goes everywhere I do and loves my lap more than anything, so it's unusual for her not to be with me.

"Would you believe me if I said she's having a play date with Daisy over at Gabe and Skye's?"

He almost sputters his coffee. "You're kidding?"

Gabe recently adopted a Toy Poodle from the rescue for his daughter, and his new girlfriend Skye has been taking Daisy to puppy classes. I met Skye at the recent Bake' n' Shake briefly and we hit it off from then. When they adopted the pup, Skye asked if we could get them together so Daisy could socialize and get used to other dogs early on.

Since I'd already arranged to meet Brook today, I asked if it would be okay to drop Noodle off for a couple of hours so we could plan Blake's party.

"Yeah, Gabe and Skye are trying to socialize Daisy while she's still young, and Noodle is such a softie. It'll be perfect for them."

"That's a good idea." His eyes flick up to meet mine.

"Gabe seems really happy," I say.

"He is. It's been a long time coming for him."

"They really seem like they suit each other."

Skye started off as Gabe's nanny when his former nanny, Geraldine, retired. But one thing seemed to quickly lead to another with them both, and now they're a couple.

She seems very sweet, even if I've only met her briefly a couple times.

"She's good for Gabe. I don't think he's as highly strung anymore. And he has something else to focus on other than work and Trinity," Brook says.

"That's so good, especially after what Gabe has been through. He deserves to find someone special."

"Totally. I never thought I'd see the day he let anyone in again."

"Well, I'm glad he has. He and Trin have been through a lot. By the way, Blake wants to invite Trin to come to the party too. I know the kids will be older, but I thought it might be a nice thing."

"Ah, yes. The party." He smiles. "I guess we better get down to the finer details."

"I guess that's why we're here," I chuckle as I chew on the end of my pen and we glance at each other.

He gives me a wink. "Let the planning begin."