“Because they’re both pissed off at us and that’s what people do when they’re mad, Gavin. Ignore the person who made them mad.”
“You’re not concerned about this at all?”
“Honestly? No. Rory is an adult. A responsible adult.”
“Well, my daughter isn’t.”
Rielle held his gaze. “Then you shouldn’t have let her go out with mine.”
Gavin’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t say a word.
Headlights shone through the window.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Their conversation had been headed toward dangerous ground and she didn’t have the mental energy to deal with it right now. She recognized the vehicle as Rory’s truck since the engine continued to sputter after it’d been shut off. A truck door slammed. Just one, not two. The porch floorboards creaked. The handle on the door moved as if the person was testing to see if it was locked.
The door opened and Sierra stepped inside.
Sierra wasn’t surprised to see her father glaring at her in the entryway. She removed her gloves and scarf, hung up her coat and kicked off her boots. She jammed her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Gavin demanded.
“I left it in the car?”
“Bullshit. You’re surgically attached to the damn thing. Try again.”
“Fine. It was loud in there.”
“You knew I called you. You could’ve texted me if it was too loud.”
Sierra lifted her chin. “I didn’t answer because I was having an awesome time. Talking to you would’ve ruined it. I already knew I’d be in trouble.” Her eyes met Rielle’s. “Rory told me to tell you she had too much liquid fun tonight. I dropped her off at her cabin and put a garbage can by her bed just in case she gets sick.”
“Thank you, Sierra. I appreciate you looking out for her.” Rielle looked at Gavin. “Good night.”
She felt his angry and surprised gaze following her but she didn’t turn around. He could deal with his daughter now; she’d deal with hers in the morning.
Rielle wasn’t surprised to see Rory in the kitchen at seven a.m. making breakfast. Even as a small child, she’d been quick to anger, but she’d mend fences just as quickly. They’d never stayed mad at each other for longer than a day, but she had the niggling feeling this conversation would test that theory.
“Morning,” Rory said. “Coffee’s done.”
“Thank you.” Rielle poured a cup and sat at the breakfast bar. She eyed the bacon sizzling in the skillet and watched as her daughter expertly cracked four eggs. Then she dropped the bread into the toaster, flipped the hash browns and set out two plates.
“Want fruit too?”
“No. This is good.” Rielle sipped her coffee. “How bad’s the hangover?”
Rory shrugged. “Digesting grease and salt will give my body something to do rather than trying to expel the excess alcohol in my system.”
She laughed. “Who’d you run into last night that made you get your drink on?”
“Dalton.”
“How is he? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“The man drives me insane. I almost got into a fistfight with him.”
“What did he say that pissed you off?”
“What didn’t he say.”
“I thought you two were friends.”
“We were. Until we weren’t.”
Cryptic.
Rory dished up the hash browns and bacon. The toast popped up, she buttered it and sliced it before adding the eggs to the plates.
“You would’ve been an awesome short order cook.”
“Doesn’t pay as much as bartending.” She ripped off a piece of bacon. “Or a master’s degree in Ag Management.”
They dug in. Rory didn’t chatter through the meal like normal.
Once the dishes were cleared and they’d refilled their coffee, Rory spoke. “So you’re really with him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Rielle squeezed Rory’s forearm. “I love you. I’m here for you. I will talk to you about anything you want. Except for this.”
“Why are you being so secretive?”
“Why are you being so nosy? I’ve never grilled you about the guys you’ve dated. So what gives you the right to do that to me?”
“Because this isn’t like you, Mom. Because I’m worried about you.”
The frayed end of her patience began to unravel. “You know what? You should’ve been worried about me years ago. When as a young woman I never went on a date, never had a boyfriend—not one man passed through my door or your life during your growing-up years. I was one hundred percent devoted to being your mother. I did a damn good job raising you. But that part of my life—seeing myself as a mother first—is over. It has been for a while and I’ve needed to move on from that. Now I have.”
Rory didn’t look up from her coffee when she asked, “What does that mean?”
“It means my relationship with Gavin is not up for discussion with my daughter.”
“Yeah, I get that having me at sixteen f**ked up you having a normal life.”
Rielle slammed her coffee cup on the counter. “For Christsake, Aurora, you think that’s a fair thing to say to me?”
Her pale skin colored. “Probably not. But that’s the way you make me feel sometimes.”
“When?” Rielle demanded. “When have I ever acted like you were anything but the absolute joy and light of my life? Never. And don’t let your jealousy that you might have to share my affections with someone else now distort the past.”
“So you’re saying tough shit, suck it up?”
“Pretty much. You are a twenty-four-year-old woman, Rory. Your reaction to your mother having a boyfriend is ridiculous.”
Rory was completely taken aback.
“My relationship with Gavin won’t ever affect my relationship with you. Unless you let it. Your choice.” Rielle slid from the barstool and walked out.
An hour later, she’d reached the bottom of her pile of logs to split. Even though it was still snowing, she’d gotten so hot she’d ditched her jacket and only wore a thermal shirt.
If anyone asked, she’d blame her wet face on sweat. So what if a few frustrated tears leaked past her defenses while she was working out her aggravation.