And kids, plural, consumed it.

But Jacob wanted kids.

And that was just not me.

My eyes again stinging, I lifted my head and looked down the Main Street of Carnal. I’d spent time there more than once since moving to the mountains. They had an awesome coffee shop called La-La Land that not only had great coffees but amazing cakes and treats. They had a cute gift shop with great pottery.

And they had Bubba’s bar.

And Bubba’s was owned by Krystal Briggs and Tate Jackson. So, by extension, it was also owned by Lauren Jackson.

Two members of my girl posse.

Outside of Faye, who I talked to and visited with regularly now that Jacob’s namesake had entered this world and Jacob seemed intent on being little Jake’s first living memory, I had not spent much time with my new girl posse.

I had fielded calls. I’d even made calls. On a lunch hour, I’d popped in for a gab with Zara and to do so shopping at Karma. Jacob and I had run into Max and Nina at The Mark when we went there for dinner and we’d stood at their table and shot the breeze for ten full minutes. And I’d run into Lexie and Ty when they were visiting Chace and Faye after the baby was born at a time when Jacob and I showed to do the same.

All of this was welcome, to me and to them.

But I had not connected in any real way. With the phone calls, the invitation was there.

I just didn’t take them up on it. Too busy.

Always too busy.

What does that say, Emme?

The question hit my brain like a shot and I just as quickly ignored it.

But even ignoring it, I threw open my door, hopped down from Persephone and hoofed it down Main Street.

Destination: Bubba’s.

I walked in and saw that both Krystal and Lauren were there. So was Bubba.

Bubba was at one end of the bar, shooting the shit with a couple of patrons. Lauren was at the other end, talking to an old guy wearing a baseball cap. Krystal was in the middle.

All their eyes came to me.

With smiles and waves to Lauren and Bubba, I made my way to Krystal.

I hiked my ass up on a stool and looked at her. “Hey.”

She looked at me.

Then she declared, “Houston, we have a problem.”

Fantastic.

“Is it that easy to read?” I asked.

“Babe, you look like you just stepped into the street and noticed, too late, a Mack truck heading your way.”

Yes, it was that easy to read because that was precisely how I felt.

“I…” I hesitated then shared, “Have an issue.”

“No shit?” she asked.

In what seemed to be pure Krystal style, that didn’t sound like it welcomed heartfelt sharing at the same time it demanded it.

I wondered how she did that but didn’t ask. There were other things more pressing on my mind.

I looked to the taps beside her then back to her. “Can I have a beer?”

“No.”

I blinked. “No?”

“I been behind this bar a long time, so trust me on this. Your face doesn’t say beer,” she informed me. “Your face says vodka, tequila or bourbon. Your pick. On the house.”

I was a beer drinker. If I was somewhere fancy that required me drinking something out of a glass, I’d have a martini.

Therefore, I requested, “Vodka.”

“On it,” she muttered, and moved to the glasses at the back of the bar.

Lauren moved in when she did. “Hey, Emme.”

“Hi, Lauren.”

Her head tipped to the side, her gaze never leaving me. “You okay?”

So totally easy to read.

“She has an issue,” Krystal reported, putting the shot glass to the bar and grabbing a bottle of vodka.

She poured. She slid the glass my way. I picked it up and threw it back.

Then I remembered why I drank beer. Not as sharp. Far more mellow. Vodka packed a punch. Beer was cool and refreshing.

And Jacob’s homemade ale was the best beer I’d ever tasted.

I closed my eyes tight.

“Emme, honey, talk to us,” Lauren encouraged gently.

I opened my eyes and she was leaned into her forearms on the bar toward me. Krystal was close to her side, not leaned in, but I had her attention.

“I don’t want kids,” I announced.

Krystal and Lauren looked at each other then back at me.

“Okay,” Lauren prompted.

“Jacob does,” I went on.

“Oh f**k,” Krystal murmured.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

She grabbed the vodka bottle and poured another shot.

I grabbed the shot glass and threw it back.

When I was done, Lauren asked carefully, “You sure you don’t want kids?”

I nodded. “Absolutely. Don’t have that urge,” I told her. “And if I was going to get it, Jacob asking me how many I wanted after we’d made love would be the time that would happen. And Jacob telling me me not wanting them was a game changer would definitely do it.”

“A game changer?” Lauren whispered in a horrified tone.

“Oh f**k,” Krystal murmured.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“So you had this conversation when?” Lauren asked.

“Last night,” I answered. “Unfortunate timing. Jacob’s in Denver for four days, seeing to some business.” I drew in a breath then continued, “It’s the first time we’ve been separated since we got together.”

“Yep. That’s unfortunate timing,” Krystal confirmed.

I bit my lip.

“Is he… was he… did he…” Lauren was having trouble getting it out then she powered through, “How did he seem when he left?”

“He said we’d figure it out,” I told her.

“Well, that’s good,” Krystal put in.

“But he kissed me before I took off this morning and it… well,” I closed my eyes, opened them, leaned in and whispered, “Hurt.”

Krystal leaned in too. “He kiss you hard?”

“A lot of the time he kisses me hard. I like it like that. He likes it like that. But it wasn’t like that. It was… sad.” I shook my head, threw out my hands and carried on, “I know it sounds weird, a kiss being sad.” I felt my lip quiver, and to stop it I kept going. “But it was a sad kiss.”

“The good-bye before the good-bye,” Krystal said quietly.

“Krys,” Lauren said warningly.

Krystal shut her mouth.

But she was right and I knew it.

I put my elbow to the bar and my forehead in my hand.

“Emme,” Lauren called.