“I’m going to buy the kids a play set for the backyard.” Bree upended the wine bottle, pouring the last of it into her glass.

“What kind of play set?” Denise asked. But the answer was delayed by the ripping sound of packing tape as Denise closed the box she’d finished stuffing full of books and movies.

“A wooden one with a slide and swing.” Bree leaned against the counter and sipped her wine.

She wasn’t fooled by that innocent look, envisioning a massive, Swiss Family Robinson monstrosity taking up the entire yard of Bree’s house. She set her hands on her hips. “Show me.”

Bree rolled her eyes. “It’s not that big.”

“Show. Me.”

Setting down her wine glass with a sign, she pulled out her phone, fiddled with it, and handed it over to Denise

Her estimation hadn’t been far off. The damn thing had a turret. “No.” She handed the phone back to Bree. “It’s too big and too expensive.”

“It’s not and it’s awesome. I want to play in it.”

“It is and you can—in something smaller and less expensive.”

“But look, with this one you can hook up a hose and shoot the water cannon.” She held out the phone, zoomed in on the picture of a boy shooting a water cannon from the top of the tower.

Denise set up another box. “Uh huh. Are you buying this for them or you?”

Bree slid her phone back into her pocket. “We’ll call it a mutually beneficial purchase.”

“Get a smaller one.”

Bree’s shoulders sagged and she picked up her wine glass. “Fine.”

“You’re going to get that one, aren’t you?”

She flashed Denise a shit-eating grin. “Yup.”

Denise growled in frustration. “You can get it for them for Christmas.”

“But that’s months away.”

“And it doubles as their birthday present as well.” She held her friend’s gaze, knowing she wouldn’t win the argument about the Fort Knox of play sets, but unwilling to give on the when or why.

Bree broke the stare-down. “Fine,” she said in defeat.

Denise dropped a stack of DVDs in the box. “I thought you were going to help me pack.”

“I am. I’m helping you get rid of the stuff you don’t want to move.”

She looked up sharply. “Did you drink the last of my wine?”

“You still have two more bottles.”

“Phew,” Denise said. “I thought I was going to have to kick you out. Pour me a glass, would you?”

“Sure.” Bree took a glass down from the cupboard and uncorked a bottle. “Besides…I thought you were finally going to tell me what happened between you and Chris the night of Sarah’s funeral.”

Denise fumbled the DVD cases, sending them crashing to the ground. Shooting Bree a baleful look, she stooped to pick them up. “Who said anything happened?”

“You didn’t say nothing happened, so process of elimination says something happened.”

Avoiding her intense and all-too-knowing gaze, Denise flipped the cases so they all faced the same way. Something happened alright. Something was still happening. Or could happen, if she gave it a chance.

She shoved the stack of movies in the box. “I lost my shit, we had sex, and I cried.” Bree wasn’t going to be satisfied with that answer, but she deserved a little bit of shock factor.

“You…what?” Bree set the wine bottle down with a thud.

“You look like a fish. Close your mouth.”

“I’m not a guppy.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Go back and start at the beginning.”

Denise hid her grin. “Hang on.” She needed to make sure there were no little ears listening.

Down the hall, Kimber and Kaden sat on Kimber’s bed watching a show on their tablet, Sprocket taking up the entire foot of the bed. “You guys okay?” she asked from the doorway.

All three looked up. “Yes,” Kimber said.

“Thirty minutes, then teeth and stories.”

“Okay, Aunt Denny.” The kids went back to staring at the tablet and Sprocket laid her head back on her paws.

They seemed to be holding it together, but it was hard to tell. They had their first session with the grief counselor in a couple of days. The truth would come out eventually. Until then, she wouldn’t push them, knowing from experience how much it could backfire.

Heading back to the main part of the house, she picked up the wine glass and sat opposite Bree on the couch.

“They good?”

“They appear to be. We’ll see after next week.”

Bree nodded. “Spill. Losing your shit, sex, crying. You don’t have to go in that order. In fact, start with the sex.” She wagged her eyebrows.

Denise sipped her wine, a flush that had nothing to do with the pinot grigio blooming high on her cheeks. “It was…good. Better than good. Until I started crying and tried to kick him out.”

Two slow blinks. “Tried. Maybe you should start with losing your shit.”

Staring down at her glass, she thought back to that moment. “I broke. I hit the wall and I hit it hard. Everything just… I couldn’t keep it locked down anymore.”

“Finally,” Bree said.

Denise snapped her head up at her friend’s sigh of relief. “What do you mean ‘finally?’”

“You know you’re my favorite person, but, dude, I’ve been waiting for it for weeks. Months, honestly. Ever since Sarah was diagnosed.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Bree cocked her head to the side. “Because I know you. If I had asked you’d have told me everything was fine. And the few times I did ask, that’s exactly what you did. I figured that night was going to be the breaking point. That’s why I sent Chris after you.”

God, she loved Bree. Loved that she understood her and all her fucked-up-ness. “I wondered.”

“You needed a target. Someone you could unload on and not feel guilty about doing it. That wasn’t me or your parents.”

“No. It wasn’t. I didn’t need to be coddled and I didn’t want to burden anyone when I lost it.”

Bree scooted closer on the couch so their knees were almost touching. “You have to stop doing that. You’re not a burden. You don’t always have to be the strong one that holds everyone else together. You suck up everyone else’s problems until there’s no room left for your own and then you lose your shit.”

“I know. You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

Denise smiled, even though the backs of her eyes pricked. Even now, with the person she felt safest with, she tried to hold back.

“Promise me you’ll talk to me before you get to that point again.”

She licked her lips. “I’ll try.”

Bree nodded. “So that’s losing your shit. Sex?”

“I’m flattered, but no.”

“Ha. Ha.” She smacked Denise’s knee. “Don’t be a dick. Besides, I’m getting it good at home.”

“No. No. And more no. I already know too much as it is about you and Jase. I have a hard enough time looking him in the eyes, I don’t need more details.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t have that problem.” She drained her glass and went to the kitchen counter, bringing the bottle back with her. “The only reason I haven’t asked Chris to show me his signature move is because I’m still in the ‘we’re angry at Chris’ camp.” She sat back on the couch. “Unless we’re not?”

“I can’t believe I told you that story.” Denise took the wine bottle and topped off her glass, then set it on the coffee table. “We’re not, but I’m pretty sure Jase would not like you asking Chris to strip for you.”

“Hmm…good point. Anyway. You? Chris? Sex?”

She took a fortifying sip. “I attacked him when he found me.”

Bree’s forehead wrinkled. “Physically or sexually?”

“Both.”

“Uh, which did you do first?”

“Physical. Then the other one.”

“And you had sex?”

She half nodded. “And we…had sex.” Why was it so hard to share this with Bree? She’s shared before. The strip show. The kiss in the woods. Eventually, over shots of Jameson, she’d shared the rest of it. Sharing the details of this felt different for some reason.

“But it was…more…than just sex,” Bree hedged.

“It was…more.”

“Oh my God!” Bree dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling. “Getting information out of you is like popping a zit.”

Denise’s nose wrinkled. “Ew. What?”

She raised her head. “It’s like popping a zit that’s not quite ready, but you know if you work at it a little, maybe poke it with a needle to get it started, it’s going to explode everywhere.”

Her best friend had compared her to a zit. “I am equal parts offended and disgusted.”

“Be the zit, Denise. You’ll feel better once the nasty center is purged and the pressure is relieved.”

“You’re ridiculous. And did I mention disgusting? Fine! It started as fucking and he ended up making love to me. He made me look in his eyes and it was deep and meaningful and it freaked me the fuck out. Happy now?”

“Fuck yes!” The damn woman pumped her fist in the air. “And?”

“And I started crying, pushed him off me, and told him to leave.”

Bree’s shoulders slumped. “Denise.”

She averted her gaze and took a large swallow of her wine. It hadn’t been her finest moment, especially given her general “I-am-woman-fuck-your-expectations” persona.

“Did he?” Bree asked.

“No. He picked me up, put me in bed, and spooned me.”

Two seconds later Bree threw back her head, laughing. “You have got to be the only woman in the history of women to be disgruntled that a hot guy spooned her after making love to her.”

Her lips twitched. It was a little funny. “Whatever. I hate you.”

Bree laughed for several moments before sighing and wiping under an eye.

“I told him about Ali,” Denise said quietly.

That statement killed her humor. “Holy shit. Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. That’s… You like him.”

Denise pulled her lips between her teeth.

“You like him, like him. Like…don’t want to talk about it because if you do, you’ll jinx it, like him.” Bree’s voice was filled with shock and wonder.

“Don’t be so surprised,” Denise said. Maybe that was it. If she gave words to what she was feeling, it ran the risk of turning to shit. If she ignored it, it’d be like it never happened.

“How’d you leave it? You know, after?”

“He kissed me goodbye and told me to call him if I needed anything.”

“Did you call him?” she asked.

“No. Not until today.”

“Why not?”

She closed her eyes, trying to verbalize all the roadblocks to moving forward. “Because last time, he ghosted.”

“But—”

“I understand it was his job.” Denise opened her eyes. “He explained and he apologized, but I can’t help but wonder if he would have contacted me if I hadn’t been here that day he came looking for Sarah. I also can’t help wondering how much of him being around is him needing me and the kids to get to Eddie.”

“Chris doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy to use kids to further his agenda.”

She picked at the skin around her thumbnail. “I want to believe that as well.”

“But you don’t.”

Deep down she did. As unfair as it was to compare Chris to what had happened in the past, there was too much at stake. “I struggle with it.”

“Do you remember what you said to me when I was having doubts about Jase?” Bree asked.

Denise pursed her lips and sipped her wine. “I’m sure it was something sage and wise and nothing I want repeated back to me.”

“Too bad. You told me to give it a chance. That some things are worth fighting for.”

“Yeah, well. Those who can’t do, impart words of wisdom.”

Bree rolled her eyes. “You can do and you should. If Eddie and Chris’s job weren’t a factor, would you want to give it a shot?”

Would she? He was smart and funny and sexy as hell. He appeared to appreciate her sarcasm. She felt more like her, the old her, than she had in years when he was around. The tiny ember of hope she kept locked up tight flared to life around him, as if he were a drop of fuel on a dying fire. Just enough for it to feed the flames and burn away the darkness.

“Yes.” She wanted to give it—them—a chance.

“Then give it a shot.”

“Just that easy?” She remembered what she’d said to Bree.

So did Bree. “Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy.”

But could it be? Maybe once they got through the situation with Eddie. “There’s more.”

“Well, it’s too early to know you’re pregnant, so it can’t be that.”

“Sweet baby—” She covered her eyes. “Why would you even put that out in the universe?”

“Just saying.”

Denise dropped her hand. “Eddie made an appearance at the rescue today.”

“What the fuck? You didn’t lead with that?”

“You were the one who wanted all the dirty details about my sex life.”

Bree shook her head. “Whatever.” She leaned forward. “Where did you stash the body?” she whispered.

Denise closed the gap. “I didn’t kill him.”

“Why not?” she asked in a normal voice.

Denise leaned back. “Video cameras and witnesses for one. For another, it’s kind of hard to be K-Squared’s guardian if I’m in jail.”

A tiny growl of frustration escaped Bree as she leaned back against the armrest of the couch.

Denise recounted Eddie’s appearance and threats, as well as the need for more cameras around the barn.

“Make the call tomorrow. Ask them to do a rush install.” She rubbed a finger across her bottom lip. “You know who you should call?”

Denise nodded. “I already called him.”

Bree’s eyebrows shot up. “You did?”

“Nobody’s getting near my kids, Bree. Even if it means I have to call in a favor from Graham.”

“Got it.”

Denise checked her watch. “Why don’t you go say goodnight to them? It’s been way more than thirty minutes and it’s a school night.”

Bree grinned. “Who’d’ve thought you’d be worried about school nights?”

“Sure as hell wasn’t me.”

She gathered up the wine glasses and empty bottle while Bree said goodbye to K-Squared. She smiled at the giggles she could hear coming from their room. They’d always loved Bree. Sarah had been right. This was the best thing for Kaden and Kimber. She still worried she was going to screw them up. Lord knew she’d never be a PTA mom. But between her parents and Bree and Gran, she’d figure it out.

Bree came from their room, grinning. “I got them all riled up for you.”

“Awesome, thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” She grabbed her wallet and keys from the bookcase by the door. “You realize I’m Team Chris from this point forward, right?”

“Yeah. Kind of worked that one out.”

“Unless he screws up again. Then I’m totally back on Team Denise and we’ll figure out the alibis later.”