LITMIR.BIZ

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walked it over to the corner where Brody and Sandy had gathered three cots together.

      “I hope you don’t mind we took an extra,” Sandy said. “If Mike gets a chance to sleep, he’ll probably come here.”

      “It’s fine. If we do end up with a shortage of cots, I might have to steal it back if he’s not here, but we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.” She leaned the screen against the wall. “I’ll let you guys figure out how you want this after you get situated.”

      “Thanks so much, Delaney,” Sandy said.

      Delaney managed not to look Brody in the face even once during the exchange. She could do this, she thought, as she brushed off her hands and started walking away. Ignoring him wouldn’t be so hard.

      “Hey, Delaney?” She turned and her insides quivered when his mouth lifted into that boyish grin she’d always been a sucker for. “Nice sweatshirt.”

      * * *

      BRODY WAS DOING everything in his power not to watch Delaney as she moved around the gym, doing whatever needed to be done. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a comic book hero and his powers were limited.

      She’d barely changed at all in the five years he’d been gone. Her dark blond hair, judging by the length of her ponytail, was a little longer. And she’d put on a little weight, but it looked good on her.

      Seeing her in his sweatshirt, though, was twisting him up in ways he hadn’t thought possible. He’d looked for it the night he’d left town because it was his favorite and he didn’t want to leave it behind. Then he’d remembered pulling it over Delaney’s head and helping her shove her arms in the sleeves because she’d been shivering in the ocean breeze.

      Brody had been tormented for weeks after he left town, imagining her wearing the sweatshirt and missing him. Eventually he figured she’d get over him and his prized Red Sox sweatshirt would go to Goodwill or be used to wax her car.

      He wasn’t sure what to make of the fact she was wearing it tonight. Was it just something she grabbed out of the back of her closet? Or did she still think of him when she wore it?

      “Stop staring at her,” Sandy hissed. “You’re making it more awkward.”

      Forcing his attention away from Delaney, he looked down at Noah, who was starting to squirm in his car seat and make squeaky noises that were cute at the moment, but bound to get louder in a hurry. “I’m just looking around.”

      “If you were looking around, you’d know half the people in here are watching you watch her, hoping for good gossip.”

      “Nothing to gossip about.”

      “Everybody knows Delaney and half of them know you broke her heart. There’s definitely gossip.”

      He rolled his eyes, mentally adding her comment to the why Tucker’s Point sucks column. “Old news.”

      By the time Sandy got Noah out of his seat, the baby was at about half volume and Brody reached for the folding privacy screen Delaney had leaned against the wall. As he looked it over, trying to figure out the best way to fold it out for maximum privacy, he glanced around the gym again. He didn’t figure a screaming baby was going to go over too well.

      A few guys threw dirty looks their way, and Brody felt his temper rising. Maybe he’d made himself into a successful businessman and the calluses were gone, but there were some things a guy from the rough part of town didn’t forget. Like how to throw a punch.

      “Brody.” Sandy’s elbow jabbed his ribs. “Brody! Don’t even start.”

      “I’m not doing anything.”

      “I know that look and I’m telling you don’t even think about it.”

      Brody shrugged, more to ease the tension from his shoulders than in response to her words. “That guy in the green sweatshirt was a couple years behind me in school. A punk with a big mouth.”

      “Now he’s just a dad here with two young kids who are probably already on his last nerve and he’s thinking about how a newborn’s going to make it so much worse.”

      Now that she mentioned it, Brody saw the two boys near the guy. Young and full of the frantic energy that came with being up past their bedtime, they were roughhousing and showed no signs of being tired. A newborn in their midst definitely wouldn’t make the guy’s life any easier.

      “Can you do me a favor?” Sandy asked after he’d wrapped the screen around their cots. “I’m supposed to drink a lot of water when I’m nursing. I drank one bottle already and I couldn’t fit anymore in the bags. Can you get some from the kitchen?”

      At least it was something to do. Brody had a feeling if this power outage stretched on, he’d be begging for busy work. He wasn’t a guy used to sitting around doing nothing. But he only got halfway across the gym before he ran into an old friend.

      “Hot damn. If it ain’t Brody Rollins.” Donnie Cox didn’t look much different than the last time Brody had seen him, downing shots after a good haul. Worn flannel shirt, faded jeans and unlaced work boots with duct tape over one toe. “Heard you were back in town.”

      Brody shook his hand, noting the hard, ragged calluses across Donnie’s palm. It had taken almost two years for Brody’s hands to smooth to the point they weren’t something people—usually women—commented on. “It’s good to see you again, Cox.”

      “Yeah, I brought the wife and mother-in-law over when the power went out, but I’m going to go back out and do some welfare checks. Hate being cooped up.”

      “Married, huh? Congratulations.”

      “I married Becks. Big surprise.” Donnie and Rebecca were not only high-school sweethearts, but had been together since junior high. They’d never dated anybody but each other, as far as Brody knew. “I’ll be a dad in four months, too. Our first.”

      Brody said all the right congratulatory words, but mentally he was acknowledging that guys he went to school with being married and having kids made him feel a little as if he was missing out on something. Sure, he’d been working hard and putting money in the bank, but he’d be thirty soon. It wouldn’t be long before he started looking for a wife and planning a family.

      As the thought took hold in his mind, his gaze was drawn to Delaney. If he hadn’t left town, they’d be married now. Probably have at least two kids. And he’d work his ass off every day just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table while Delaney scrounged for coupons and did laundry that would always smell like a fishing boat.

      He couldn’t regret not letting them turn into his parents. But he regretted not having her. He regretted that a lot.

      “It was good to see you, man,” Donnie said. “I need to get back.”

      He shook Donnie’s hand, and then continued toward the kitchen. Delaney seemed to be the only volunteer there and he didn’t know where they kept the water, so he headed toward her. When she saw him coming, her expression grew guarded and he hated that.

      “What can I do for you?”

      So formal and cold. She’d been his best friend once and her voice had always made him feel good, whether she was talking about her day or whispering sweet invitations in his ear. “Sandy’s out of water and she’s supposed to drink a lot when she’s nursing Noah. She said you’d have some.”

      “We lock the kitchen at night, but water we keep in the coolers under the main table so people can help themselves. Feel free to grab some.”

      When she started to turn away, he said her name to make her stop. He didn’t know what to say to her, but he couldn’t stand getting the cold shoulder. Not from her.

      “Was there something else?”

      “I’m sorry.” It seemed like a good place—the only place—to start. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

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