Page 38 of Sneak Attack

I could be honest with her. I’d always been able to, but the truth of it surprised me, even if she didn’t seem shocked by it.

Kate made her way up the wooden steps of the front porch. I expected her to take a seat, but she pointed at the bucket where I’d stashed my wine in ice before coming outside. No sense in making trips inside when I didn’t plan on leaving the porch until it was empty.

“Mind if I join you for a glass?”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. I couldn’t think of a time when I saw Mama B have a drink. On holidays, if she was feeling fancy, she threw together a Shirley Temple.

“Things change,” she said with a shrug. “And some people loosen up over the years.”

I chuckled and pushed off the rocker. “Have a seat and I’ll go grab a glass.”

“Thank you, dear.”

A feeling of warmth rushed over me at her words. Mama B had always been kind, but there was a bite to her. She had no problems letting loose when necessary. Fortunately, I’d never been the one in her path.

She settled into the rocking chair next to me like she planned to stay all night and as I went inside to grab her glass, I settled in as well.

She’d leave when she was good and ready, and she’d say what she felt like she needed to.

I was getting used to it.

After grabbing one of Marley’s crystal goblets, a pale purple color that was much nicer than the simple wineglass I’d used for myself but figured Kate would appreciate, I headed back outside to find her rocking slowly in her chair, head tipped back, eyes closed.

“Not sleeping, just resting my eyes.”

I retook my chair and poured her a glass. The ice cubes clinked and clanked against the bucket and glass bottle and her smile was soft as she opened her eyes.

“Long day?” she asked.

“Long week. Month.”

She took the glass from me, running a finger over her violet goblet and brought it to her lips. I watched, still surprised to see her drinking anything with alcohol.

“No matter how many times Cole and Graham have a beer in our house, always strikes me as funny that you kids are old enough to be drinking.” So apparently, we were thinking the same things, at least about alcohol.

I grabbed my own glass, curious to know why she was there, patient enough to wait until she pushed too far. “How’s Graham doing?”

“Trying to outshine Cole by breaking as many defensive records as Cole did offense.”

“So, nothing’s changed between them,” I said without thinking but when it came to the Buchanan brothers, they were all competition, all heart.

“A lot has changed,” she replied, more serious and quieter in a way that sent ice prickling down my neck. “Not the love between them, but everything else.”

“The more things stay the same…” I started the saying everyone knew and trailed off.

“That’s about right. I didn’t come to talk about my boys though.”

“No?” I arched a doubtful brow. “That’d be a first.”

“No. Just thought you might need some company. Can’t be easy being here with Marley, your past in your face every time you turn around.”

“I’d be happy to never talk about my past again to be honest.”

“Hmm. That’s true, although sometimes you can’t learn from it if you don’t revisit it from time to time.”

“Think I’ve learned enough lessons.”

She pressed her lips together and I waited for the questions, the lessons everyone else was so intent on shoving down my throat, but they didn’t come.

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