Chapter 8

EIGHT

Britt

"Are you sure you don't mind, Deanna?"

Deanna looks at me with a smirk. "I'm living vicariously. There are a lot of rumors flying around town about you and that sexy Dr. Blake."

I can feel myself blushing. It's not like I'm embarrassed. I don't have anything to be embarrassed about. Excitement. Anticipation. How is it possible that just hearing his name makes me smile? "We've been spending time together. And yes, he's hot. Super hot. And sweet. And funny. But it's all really new."

Deanna grins and it makes her look a decade younger. Every day that she's free of Kyle Stephens seems to turn back the clock for her. "I'm super happy for you, Britt. You deserve a good guy after what... well, after what you've been through."

I point at her. "You deserve it, too. But you're not ever gonna find it if you won't date!"

The grin fades. In fact, it seems like she just deflates right before my eyes. "Until things are settled and Kyle is locked up for good, I can't take that risk. You know how he is."

"He's in jail."

"Jail," she says. "Not prison. And I need for him to be in prison... But I don't want to talk about him. Karli is going to stay here, we're going to no bake cookies, and watch cute Halloween movies."

"Halloween is more than a month away!"

"Do you care if it keeps her occupied and gives you a free evening to spend with Dr. Blake?"

I don't have a response for that. "I'm just gonna shut up and go."

"Stay as late as you want. Seriously. I'll put Karli to bed here and get her to school in the morning if you need me to... And, Britt?"

"Yeah?"

"Have enough fun for both of us."

I leave Deanna's, still shaking my head, and climb into my car. I'm not driving to the farm, but I am driving to Silas' apartment. We'll leave my car there and take his truck to the farm since it apparently will have a starring role.

He surprised me last night with that admission. Even more surprising, I'm pretty eager to make that fantasy a reality for him. Part of it is wanting to please him, sure. But part of me is a little excited about it myself. It feels naughty–a little wicked, a little bit kinky, and just bad enough to be a good time. The truth is, aside from getting pregnant earlier than I probably should have, I've never actually done anything too wild. It's hard to get wild and crazy when you're budgeting for diapers and an electric bill while balancing school work, house work and wondering who your husband is fucking at any given moment.

Like I summoned his worthless ass with a thought, my phone dings. I look down at the phone and see that it's Dakota texting.

Dickota: I'm gonna pick Karli up tomorrow after school. I've already talked to her about it.

WTF?

B: When did you talk to her?

Dickota: Oh, I saw her at the movies with your Dad and his new chick. Fucking cradle robber.

B: Don't start on my dad.. And tell me exactly what you said to Karli.

Dickota: I told her that I'd pick her up after school on Tuesday and I'd bring her back here. I want her to meet Elizabeth and her new sister.

I don't have a problem with any of that. In fact, Karli should know her siblings. Except tomorrow is Thursday. So he's already two fucking days late.

B: Don't you dare break her heart again. I fucking mean it. She already feels like she's been replaced for you.

Dickota: Stop busting my balls, Britt. Jesus! This is why we got divorced.

B: No. We got divorced because you stuck your dick in every groupie that would stand still long enough to let you. You didn't ask for the divorce, Dakota. I did. Because you're a goddamn flake. You told Karli you'd get her on Tuesday—which was yesterday.

Dickota: Baby girl knows that I can't keep shit like that straight. She's fine. We're fine. Gotta run.

And that's it. The conversation is over. He's done talking and I can text him a fucking treatise and he won't respond till he's ready. Why didn't Karli tell me she talked to him? And as soon as the thought crosses my mind, I know the answer. She tries to protect me as much as I try to protect her. Fuck my life.

My good-mood-about-to-get-laid vibe is shot to hell now. And that's not fair to me or Silas. I need to get it together and get my thoughts back on track.

I hate when I'm forced to have a conversation with him. They're always a mood killer and they just take me down into a dark, dark place. It's not that I still have feelings for him. Those died a long time ago. I could even forgive all the shit he did to me. It's worth it to be rid of him. It's the shit he does to Karli that I can't stand. I've watched him break her heart a dozen times, just this year. He calls, makes a promise, doesn't keep the promise, and it all goes to hell. I spend days trying to cheer her up, trying to ease the pain caused by his thoughtlessness.

If there's one thing that's kept me from dating in the last couple of years, it's that. I can't risk someone else hurting her. Someone else disappointing her. I know Silas isn't that person. But I also know the reality of dealing with a kid on a day to day basis might be more than he wants to handle.

I'm getting way too into my head about shit. Carving out time to see Silas isn't easy. I don't know how much longer I can keep making this work in the middle of everything else. I'm not going to let my shitty, responsibility challenged ex spoil that for me or him.

"You're kind of quiet tonight."

I'm in the passenger seat of Silas's truck and we're about halfway to the farm. "I just have some things on my mind."

"Things... about us or about the past?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Quit poking around inside my brain, dammit! It's both, okay?"

He nods. "Why?"

"Dakota texted me today. Said he saw Karli out with my dad a few days ago and told her he was going to come get her Tuesday so she could meet his new wife and her new baby sister."

"Did he?"

I laugh. "No. He texted me today to tell me that."

Silas shakes his head. "It's too much to hope it was an autocorrect thing, and he actually meant Thursday, isn't it?"

"Oh, yeah. He told me that Karli knows he can't keep shit like that straight and she'll be fine... He does this with her all the time. Says he'll show up and doesn't. Says he'll call and doesn't. Says he'll be there for birthdays and Christmas and school plays... and there's always an empty seat where his ass ought to be."

He doesn't say anything. There's not much he can say. He just reaches over, tucks my hand into his and holds it–and that gesture is like so much about Silas. Firm and strangely gentle, quietly reassuring and something I could definitely get used to.