The Road to Rose Bend, Naima Simone [jenna bush book club .TXT] 📗

“Thank you,” Valeria whispered, squeezing her hands, then releasing them. “Now I expect you two to come around the house for dinner soon. I need to start fattening up you and this little one as soon as possible. You’re so tiny. May I?” Valeria’s hand hovered above Sydney’s stomach, waiting for permission. Sydney nodded, and the older woman laid a gentle hand on top of the bump. “Cole told us you’re having a girl. I would’ve adored a boy just as much, but there’s something about girls. Sweet. Angelic. And so much fun to shop for,” she added with a sly smile.

“I think you’re going to find competition in the spoiling department,” Moe drawled. “Between you, me and Patricia we’re going to have one hell of a race for number one nana. You up for this, Patricia?” Moe grinned, extending her arms and cracking her knuckles.

“Oh God,” Ian muttered.

“I didn’t want to mention that the dress my daughter is wearing came from my shop—one that I specially ordered for her. And I have a matching infant-sized dress on the way. So you ladies have some catching up to do.”

Sydney laughed, astonished and...delighted. It’d been a while since she’d witnessed her mother’s dry sense of humor. The woman had sarcasm down to a fine art, and it’d always been one of the things Sydney had enjoyed about her mother.

“Hmm. Atrévete,” Valeria drawled, arching a dark eyebrow. Sydney smothered a snicker. She couldn’t speak Spanish, but she sensed the woman had just uttered the equivalent of “come at me, bro.” And from the rumble of Cole’s chuckle, she didn’t think she was far off. Grinning, Valeria asked Sydney, “I don’t know if you’ve started working on the nursery yet. You’re five months along, right? If not, we need to get started. We can make a girls’ day of it,” she chattered, not giving Sydney a chance to respond. Her excitement was contagious, and Sydney found herself grinning. “We need measurements and colors. Where are you two living? Are you going to move into the—”

“No.”

Cole’s abrupt, flat interruption dropped an awkward silence between them. Awkward and tense. And vibrating with something unspoken but understood by everyone but her. Well, nearly everyone. Her parents seemed as confused as she was. But as the other two couples exchanged weighty, meaningful glances, she knew she wasn’t imagining this...whatever this was.

“For now, we’re going to stay in my cottage, until we find a place of our own,” Cole said, his voice smooth, but with a flinty undertone that brooked no further discussion.

“You two are welcome to stay as long as you need,” Ian murmured, his deep rumble carrying a hint of his native Ireland that hadn’t abandoned him even after decades in the States.

Cole nodded. “Thanks, Dad.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the tent with the huge grills and tables. “I think we’re about to serve dinner then cut the cake.”

With more hugs, the three couples made their way across the field, leaving her and Cole alone.

“What was that about?” Sydney asked quietly. “And don’t tell me nothing,” she tacked on.

A beat of silence. “Let it go, Sydney,” he murmured. “We’re supposed to be celebrating our wedding. Let’s just do that and let everything else...go.”

The protest backed up in her throat. A part of her wanted to stand her ground. But they stood in a field full of family, friends and rally goers. Now wasn’t the time. He won this round. But later? She wanted answers.

“Okay,” she conceded. “Let’s go join our guests.”

SHADOWS DRAPED THE small front yard of Cole’s cottage as he parked in his driveway.

Home.

As of yesterday, she’d moved the last of her belongings into his place, and this was now their home. There was no going back. As the hours of the day passed, and the sun sank behind the mountains, her nerves had climbed. Maybe the same had been true for Cole, because he’d become more and more subdued, distant.

Was he regretting his decision? Regretting her?

She wished she had the courage to ask him. But getting married today after a week’s notice had sapped every last ounce she had in reserve. Maybe tomorrow. That had become her mantra lately.

Cole exited the car, and she pushed her door open. Before she could step out, he was there, his hand extended toward her. Her heart thumped against her chest, and she shot it side-eye before sliding her palm across his. Long, capable fingers folded around hers, and he guided her out of the vehicle, leading her up the walk to his house. Correction. Their house.

Yeah, that would take some getting used to. Because right now, she still had to acclimate to being someone’s wife again.

Not someone’s.

Cole’s.

She stared at his broad, powerful back and shoulders as he opened the front door. As always, she admired his width and build. But she also noticed the taut set of his shoulders. The almost stiff gait that had replaced his normal fluid, sensual grace. The tension that radiated off of him.

The anxiety that had been steadily building crept up her own spine and twisted her stomach. She stood on a fragile edge. On one side loomed her own uncertainties and insecurities. On the other, Cole and her complicated, messy feelings toward him. Both felt like deep plunges into an abyss that offered her no safety net.

Locking her fingers together in front of her, she turned to face him. And took that step off the edge toward him.

“I’m going to get ready for bed, unless you’d rather stay up and watch TV or talk...” God, she had no idea how to maneuver this. Most newlyweds couldn’t wait to dive into bed. But they weren’t most newlyweds.

“No,” he said, sliding his hands into the front pockets of his suit pants. The rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt gathered underneath his elbows, and even that small movement set tendons flexing. Restrained power. Rigid control. She’d experienced how overwhelming that power could be when he