got tonight off so I can surprise Phoebe and take her to dinner.”
Bree let out a small laugh but it died a quick death. “Sorry. I just wish your girlfriend didn’t have the same name as my dog. It’s . . . unsettling.”
“So change its name.”
She turned to me quickly, looking more than a little outraged. “You can’t just—” She shook her head as though what she was about to say wasn’t worth her time. “Anyway, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled that you’re off.” She looked at me sideways. “How are things going with her? You’ve been seeing her for what? About a year now?”
I nodded, warmth infusing my chest as Phoebe’s smile filled my mind’s eye, the way she still sighed and looked nearly star-struck when I winked at her. “Ten months. She’s good. She’s great.” She worships me.
Bree had gone back to her stirring, but now stopped, placing the spoon on the counter. She shifted Averie so she was holding her with two arms and leaned against the counter, resting her chin on the baby’s head and watching me thoughtfully. “Travis Hale. I never thought I’d see the day. You’re actually serious about someone, aren’t you?”
“Jealous?” I grinned but she remained serious. My smile slipped.
“No. Glad. It’s good to see you finding happiness.”
There was a full, weighted silence that made me feel itchy. I didn’t know what to say. In all honesty, Bree had every right to wish me unhappiness for the rest of my days even though Archer and I had mended fences, and I tried my damnedest to be a good uncle to my nephews—which wasn’t hard because, frankly, I enjoyed the hell out of them—and someday, if I was able to win her over, the niece still watching me cautiously. The way I’d acted when Bree first came to Pelion . . . the things I’d done to my brother all our lives, would forever be between us. Years had passed, holidays had gone by, I liked to think I’d matured, but even so, there was nothing I could do to change the way I’d hurt them in the past. The things my actions might have caused.
“She’s the one, huh?” Bree asked, and I detected the barest hint of . . . uneasiness? Concern? I wasn’t sure, and whatever had passed over her expression was there and gone in the blink of an eye. She bent her head and inhaled Averie’s wispy brown hair, sighing softly.
Bree had met Phoebe on many occasions. She’d never said anything unkind about her, but I’d also gotten the sense they might never be best friends. Which was okay by me. Bree was into baking, and reading, and mucking around in the rocks with her kids and dogs. All worthy pastimes when you were a mom. But Phoebe wasn’t a mom. Yet. She was into . . . well besides me, she was into . . . what was Phoebe into?
She liked to shop, I knew that. And tan. She was very good at both.
“Well, when you know, you know,” Bree said, smiling softly, meeting my gaze and holding it for several beats.
When you know, you know.
I pushed off the counter just as the soft sound of the front door opening met my ears. The door clicked shut quietly and then Archer turned into the kitchen, looking unsurprised to see me. He’d obviously noticed my truck parked out front. Hey, he signed.
Hi, I signed back as Archer made a beeline for Bree and his daughter, his face lighting with such open joy that I almost looked away, as though I’d barged in on an intimate moment and had no business being there.
The baby kicked her chubby legs and grinned, two shiny white teeth appearing on her bottom gum. Averie reached for her father and Archer took her from Bree, kissing his wife on the lips, lingering.
“Well,” I said, loudly, giving the papers sitting on the counter a tap. “There’s the data you wanted. I emailed it to you as well, but was in the area, so thought I’d drop off printouts. Tell the boys I said bye. I’ll pick them up Sunday.” We had a long-standing after-dinner ice cream date where I fed them too much sugar and then sent them home so their parents could deal with the aftermath.
Archer glanced at Bree, his hands too full to “speak,” and as though reading his mind she said, “Travis can’t join us for dinner. He has plans with Phoebe.”