All or Nothing at All
Page 64
She let out a sigh. “Of course. How did I not notice?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Funny. What’s that smell?”
She motioned over to the Crock-Pot. “Stew. It simmers all day so we’ll be all set when we get home to eat without a lot of prep. I’ll throw a salad together with it.”
He lifted the lid and stared into the pot with something close to wonderment. “And it just cooks together in there?”
Her lip twitched. “Yep. Like magic.”
“My mother loved making stew.”
“It’s her recipe. Of course, it’s not as good. I wasn’t too interested when she tried to show me how to cook, but I did keep all her recipes.”
They stayed quiet for a bit, lost in their thoughts of Diane. “I appreciate you cooking. It’s never been my strong suit.”
“It’s okay. I actually like cooking.”
“It’s Wednesday. Are you going to poker night? I know you haven’t gone in a while.”
She shifted her feet. Raven held poker night every week at My Place, and it had been a safe haven for Sydney. Laughing and talking with her friends allowed her to blow off some steam and soak in the power of female friendship. But since the truth about Becca came out, Morgan and Raven avoided her. She didn’t know if she had the guts to go back, even though she was a bridesmaid in Morgan’s upcoming wedding. “I don’t think so. Things have been a bit strained between us.”
He studied her for a while, as if trying to come to a decision. “I’ll talk to them, Syd. I don’t want them holding a grudge. It doesn’t help anyone.”
Irritation prickled her nerve endings. “I don’t need you to fight my battles any longer,” she said. “I appreciate it, but this is something I need to take care of myself.”
“Then go tonight. They’re your friends, and you owe them a conversation.”
He was right. It had been easier to avoid the confrontation, but it was time to say her piece. She owed her friends that much, and then they could make their own decision whether or not they wanted to continue the friendship. “I’ll think about it.”
He nodded, accepting her decision. “Fine. I’ll check in with you later.” His tone morphed back into the cool, clipped manner she was getting accustomed to. Her soul mourned the softening and intimacy between them before she’d told him about Becca. She wondered if she’d waited longer to tell him, would their bond have been more unshakable?
No. Any type of foundation they had laid crumbled to dust the moment he learned she’d lied to him. Sydney wondered if he’d ever be able to truly forgive her, let alone trust her again. She answered him with a quick good-bye, then left the mansion with a heavy heart.
Work was a balm to her soul. The hours flew by as she directed the renovation, got her hands dirty, and saw real progress being made. She was able to leave at a decent hour, help Becca with her homework, get dinner on the table, and change in time to get out to the restaurant. Tristan walked in minutes before she was due to leave.
“Daddy!” Becca flew into his arms, and he caught her, whirling her around in the air. She leaned against the wall and watched them. Heads bent together, smiles framing similar faces: Sydney soaked in the beauty of seeing them like this. It was so obvious how Becca’s eyes were more gold than green, and her nose had that same sharp look. They were both lefties and allergic to strawberries. They were stubborn and sarcastic and beautiful, and each day they grew more bonded. Sydney had wondered if she’d feel any type of jealousy since Becca had been hers alone for so long. But she didn’t. It was as if all the broken pieces had finally been mended together in a picture of sheer beauty.
“Mama put dinner aside for you. You’re late again.” Becca wrinkled her nose, but her father kissed her forehead, and her frown immediately smoothed out.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Mama and I are doing a big project, so things will be busy for a while. But I’ve scheduled your horseback riding lessons for Saturday, and we’ll all go together. How does that sound?”
Her daughter squealed and jumped with glee. “Yes! Oh, I can’t wait, it’s going to be so much fun. But are you sure you can ride a horse?”
He puffed out with pure male pride. “Of course I can. I’m like a regular horse wrangler.”
Becca glanced over, and Sydney shook her head. “Lie,” she confirmed. “Your father has never even seen a stable, let alone horse poo.”
That made her break into giggles. “Mama, have you ridden before?”
Sydney shook her head. “Nope, this is going to be new to me, too. We’ll learn together.”
“Like a family!”
Tristan cleared his throat. “Yes, because we are a family.” He shrugged off his jacket and moved toward the kitchen. “Thanks again for leaving me dinner. You heading out?”
Her palms sweated, but she was determined to face down her fears. It was time to see if her friends would stick by her side. “Yes. Don’t wait up.”
He lifted a brow. “I will, anyway,” he said with a touch of warning. Was that a gleam of mischief in his eye, or was she hallucinating? No. Playing hide-and-go-seek every evening wasn’t Tristan’s way of having fun. He was too damn mad at her still.
“Suit yourself. Bye, sweetheart. See you in the morning.”
“Bye, Mama.”
She left them cozying up at the kitchen table and drove to My Place. Poker nights on Wednesday consisted of only females, and ranged from five to ten people on average. When she walked through the saloon-type doors, the sound of feminine laughter and scents of sweet potato fries, bacon, and good old-fashioned grease filled the air. As she neared the table, a chorus of greetings echoed in her ear.
“Sydney! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. Congrats on the wedding,” Carla said, jumping up to hug her. She was a sweet-natured librarian with a tendency to get crazy during high stakes and reveal her fabulous potty mouth.
“Thank you,” she said, hugging back.
Morgan gave her a tight smile. “Good to see you, Syd,” she said quietly. Her gaze quickly dropped, as if she couldn’t stand looking her in the face.
Sydney’s heart ached, and she swallowed back fearful nerves. “You, too.”
Raven came from around the bar and slid a Sweet Hot Chris cocktail across the table. Her famous champagne mixed drink was a favorite on poker nights and was dubbed for all the sexy celebrities named Chris she lusted after, such as Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pine, Chris Pratt, and Chris Evans. Dalton always laughed and said she’d named it before she met him, or it would’ve been the Sweet Hot Dalton.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Funny. What’s that smell?”
She motioned over to the Crock-Pot. “Stew. It simmers all day so we’ll be all set when we get home to eat without a lot of prep. I’ll throw a salad together with it.”
He lifted the lid and stared into the pot with something close to wonderment. “And it just cooks together in there?”
Her lip twitched. “Yep. Like magic.”
“My mother loved making stew.”
“It’s her recipe. Of course, it’s not as good. I wasn’t too interested when she tried to show me how to cook, but I did keep all her recipes.”
They stayed quiet for a bit, lost in their thoughts of Diane. “I appreciate you cooking. It’s never been my strong suit.”
“It’s okay. I actually like cooking.”
“It’s Wednesday. Are you going to poker night? I know you haven’t gone in a while.”
She shifted her feet. Raven held poker night every week at My Place, and it had been a safe haven for Sydney. Laughing and talking with her friends allowed her to blow off some steam and soak in the power of female friendship. But since the truth about Becca came out, Morgan and Raven avoided her. She didn’t know if she had the guts to go back, even though she was a bridesmaid in Morgan’s upcoming wedding. “I don’t think so. Things have been a bit strained between us.”
He studied her for a while, as if trying to come to a decision. “I’ll talk to them, Syd. I don’t want them holding a grudge. It doesn’t help anyone.”
Irritation prickled her nerve endings. “I don’t need you to fight my battles any longer,” she said. “I appreciate it, but this is something I need to take care of myself.”
“Then go tonight. They’re your friends, and you owe them a conversation.”
He was right. It had been easier to avoid the confrontation, but it was time to say her piece. She owed her friends that much, and then they could make their own decision whether or not they wanted to continue the friendship. “I’ll think about it.”
He nodded, accepting her decision. “Fine. I’ll check in with you later.” His tone morphed back into the cool, clipped manner she was getting accustomed to. Her soul mourned the softening and intimacy between them before she’d told him about Becca. She wondered if she’d waited longer to tell him, would their bond have been more unshakable?
No. Any type of foundation they had laid crumbled to dust the moment he learned she’d lied to him. Sydney wondered if he’d ever be able to truly forgive her, let alone trust her again. She answered him with a quick good-bye, then left the mansion with a heavy heart.
Work was a balm to her soul. The hours flew by as she directed the renovation, got her hands dirty, and saw real progress being made. She was able to leave at a decent hour, help Becca with her homework, get dinner on the table, and change in time to get out to the restaurant. Tristan walked in minutes before she was due to leave.
“Daddy!” Becca flew into his arms, and he caught her, whirling her around in the air. She leaned against the wall and watched them. Heads bent together, smiles framing similar faces: Sydney soaked in the beauty of seeing them like this. It was so obvious how Becca’s eyes were more gold than green, and her nose had that same sharp look. They were both lefties and allergic to strawberries. They were stubborn and sarcastic and beautiful, and each day they grew more bonded. Sydney had wondered if she’d feel any type of jealousy since Becca had been hers alone for so long. But she didn’t. It was as if all the broken pieces had finally been mended together in a picture of sheer beauty.
“Mama put dinner aside for you. You’re late again.” Becca wrinkled her nose, but her father kissed her forehead, and her frown immediately smoothed out.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Mama and I are doing a big project, so things will be busy for a while. But I’ve scheduled your horseback riding lessons for Saturday, and we’ll all go together. How does that sound?”
Her daughter squealed and jumped with glee. “Yes! Oh, I can’t wait, it’s going to be so much fun. But are you sure you can ride a horse?”
He puffed out with pure male pride. “Of course I can. I’m like a regular horse wrangler.”
Becca glanced over, and Sydney shook her head. “Lie,” she confirmed. “Your father has never even seen a stable, let alone horse poo.”
That made her break into giggles. “Mama, have you ridden before?”
Sydney shook her head. “Nope, this is going to be new to me, too. We’ll learn together.”
“Like a family!”
Tristan cleared his throat. “Yes, because we are a family.” He shrugged off his jacket and moved toward the kitchen. “Thanks again for leaving me dinner. You heading out?”
Her palms sweated, but she was determined to face down her fears. It was time to see if her friends would stick by her side. “Yes. Don’t wait up.”
He lifted a brow. “I will, anyway,” he said with a touch of warning. Was that a gleam of mischief in his eye, or was she hallucinating? No. Playing hide-and-go-seek every evening wasn’t Tristan’s way of having fun. He was too damn mad at her still.
“Suit yourself. Bye, sweetheart. See you in the morning.”
“Bye, Mama.”
She left them cozying up at the kitchen table and drove to My Place. Poker nights on Wednesday consisted of only females, and ranged from five to ten people on average. When she walked through the saloon-type doors, the sound of feminine laughter and scents of sweet potato fries, bacon, and good old-fashioned grease filled the air. As she neared the table, a chorus of greetings echoed in her ear.
“Sydney! It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. Congrats on the wedding,” Carla said, jumping up to hug her. She was a sweet-natured librarian with a tendency to get crazy during high stakes and reveal her fabulous potty mouth.
“Thank you,” she said, hugging back.
Morgan gave her a tight smile. “Good to see you, Syd,” she said quietly. Her gaze quickly dropped, as if she couldn’t stand looking her in the face.
Sydney’s heart ached, and she swallowed back fearful nerves. “You, too.”
Raven came from around the bar and slid a Sweet Hot Chris cocktail across the table. Her famous champagne mixed drink was a favorite on poker nights and was dubbed for all the sexy celebrities named Chris she lusted after, such as Chris Hemsworth, Chris Pine, Chris Pratt, and Chris Evans. Dalton always laughed and said she’d named it before she met him, or it would’ve been the Sweet Hot Dalton.
