That made Chance feel odd all over again. People didn’t need to bring him food—it wasn’t his baby.
He focused on the barbecue, waiting for the coals to light and then burn down some. Once it was ready, he put on corn and the steaks. Cordy watched him with half-closed eyes, not saying much. She looked tired.
When Chance put her plate in front of her, she sat up and smiled her thanks. He waited for her to start, the knot in his chest easing as she took the first bite.
“I like the stuff you brought.” He gestured toward the living room. “The pillows and the blanket. Where did you get those?”
“You do?” Her smile was surprised. “I got the pillow in Morocco. And the blanket in Italy. My parents always warned me not to collect stuff—it was only crap to carry, they said, and you wanted as little of that as possible. Take memories, not things, you know…” Cordy shrugged like that kind of nonsense was common knowledge.
Her parents would have hated the main house where Chance grew up. It was filled with “crap” left by pretty much every Kessal who’d passed through. Not that anyone would pack it up anytime soon, but if they did, they’d have a hell of a job ahead of them.
He wouldn’t say any of that because she was already tender about how she grew up. “I’m glad you kept them,” he said, “even if they were a pain to pack.” He cut into his steak. “You told Ruby you wanted stories about Reed.” He pointed to her belly. “For the baby. I’ve got some.”
“You knew each other? Reed never said anything.”
“Everyone around here knows everyone else. You ask anyone, they’ll have stories about him.”
“Really? Everyone?”
“Yep. At least one story, I’ll bet you anything.”
“I’ll have to try that,” she said, “next time I’m in town.”
“Third Thursday is next week. You could start there.”
“I haven’t been to one of those since… since Reed died.”
“Why not? Seems like something you’d like.”
“I didn’t want to run into Reed’s family,” she said quietly.
Her expression made him want to start a new feud with the Saxons, one just as poisoned as the Kessal-Buckland feud.
Chance cleared his throat and tried to sound like he was calm. “Janet doted on him. Too much, maybe. Janet is pissed that he’s gone, and she’s taking it out on you.”
Cordy blew out a long breath. “That’s what Ruby said. But…” She shook her head. “But it’s not for me to say.”
“Sure it is. There’s only me to listen, and I won’t blab. You say whatever you want, and it’ll always be between you and me.”
Her smile was wry. “You don’t kiss and tell.”
That made Chance feel guilty for no reason he could see. No, he didn’t go talking about any woman, even if he hadn’t slept with her. It was simple manners. And a good way to keep him clear of any drama.
He took a bite of steak. “So. Unload on me about the Saxons. And we’ll go to Third Thursday next week. You’re gonna have a great time and not feel bad.”
Cordy picked at her steak. “I just want them to reply to my updates. Even a like on my message would be enough.”
Christ, this woman didn’t ask for nearly enough from them. A feud was looking mighty good about now.
“How big is the baby?” he asked. He measured her belly with his eyes. “I’d say about a basketball.”
“No, it only feels like that. It’s the size of a honeydew melon.”
Chance measured out what a melon should be with his hands and frowned. “That’s too small. Way too small.”
Cordy laughed. “I agree, but that’s the size the baby’s supposed to be.”
Chance gestured with his fork. “Okay, come on, more unloading. You’ve got a sympathetic ear here.”
