Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(75)

Rowan’s eyes became the size of saucers. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“That’s what Mike said. He wants your number. Should I get it to him?”

“There you go!” Rowan said excitedly, reaching over to smack Savannah’s arm. “There’s your chance to talk to Mike again. Please tell him yes, he can have my number, but only if he’ll behave himself.”

Savannah managed a chuckle through the ache in her heart. “You expect a rock star to behave himself?”

“He was a perfect gentleman when we talked before. I think he can. We old pregnant ladies don’t need any wild times.”

“Please, you’re not old. And you seem to be doing better,” Savannah observed. Rowan’s hair was fixed in soft waves, her makeup perfect. Maybe today was only one good day in a sea of bad ones, but she looked great. Pregnancy agreed with her, lent a glow to her skin, a sparkle to her eyes. “I know I made things hard on you again. I’m so sorry for that, Ro. So sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Rowan said, “it was mainly not seeing you that was so hard on me. I’m glad you’re here. Don’t ever leave.”

They shared a laugh, and before too much longer, the cookies were done. It was hard to be sad when one had access to warm white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Together, they devoured the entire batch and consumed mass quantities of Rowan’s excellent sweet tea, any sorrows temporarily suspended due to the subsequent sugar rush. Rowan showed her the progress on the nursery, where she’d hung a huge framed wedding portrait over the spot where she wanted to put the crib. Tommy had looked so handsome in his tux, and Rowan ravishing in her wedding dress with her blond ringlets and innocent smile.

Eventually they ended up on the couch in the living room, surrounded by Tommy’s eagles, watching TV and catching up. “So you haven’t talked to him at all since he left?” Rowan asked, her legs tucked underneath her while she flipped through channels.

“No. It’s been a week. He’s probably in Mexico City by now. I think he wanted to train in the altitude so he would be used to it.”

“Ah. Well . . . you have your passport, don’t you?”

“I do, but I am not going to Mexico City to watch him fight. No frigging way.” The mere thought caused her stomach to plummet.

“Yeah, I understand. That would be a little much. So text him right now and give him my number to pass to Zane. See what he says.”

Savannah shook her head. “I will. But not right now.”

With a funny growl of frustration, Rowan stopped channel surfing long enough to toss a throw pillow at her. “Come on.”

“Rowan—” Savannah huddled up in the corner of the couch as Rowan extended one leg—clad in flowery leggings—and nudged her repeatedly in the side with her toes.

“Do it. Dooo eet.”

“I cannot believe you’re the one encouraging this. After what we’ve been through . . .”

Savannah saw the smallest of cracks in Rowan’s cautious optimism. “I know. But if anything, what we’ve been through has shown us how short life can be, hasn’t it? I’ve lost my parents, and now my husband. I don’t know why. I just know that if I could get back one minute, just one, with any of them, I would take it in a heartbeat. I was thinking that when you and Mike walked up at the cemetery, and it struck me. You have that opportunity, you have all those minutes that I don’t. He was right beside you. He’s out there right now, probably waiting to hear from you.” She paused, staring off at some distant point over Savannah’s shoulder. Maybe at the picture of her and Tommy that Savannah knew hung on the wall behind her. “And if you love him, I can’t rob you of that. My God, Savvy, don’t we all deserve some happiness?”

There wasn’t any happiness to be had for Savannah right now. But maybe she could get some for Rowan. “All right, I’ll do it. For you. Don’t expect much for me.”

Rowan retracted her leg and tucked it back underneath her. “We’ll see.”

Blowing out a breath, Savannah lifted her phone and pulled him up in her contacts. For some reason, she thought about the day he’d added his own info into her phone at the Café Du Monde while coffee cups clinked and zydeco played in the distance and patrons chattered. One of the saddest days of her life. He’d wanted her to use his number then; she could only hope he wanted her to use it now.

Once she pulled up the keyboard, though, she froze. What to say? I miss you? I hope you’re okay? Hey, here’s Rowan’s number, pass it on to your brother?

“Maybe I should call him for this,” she said thoughtfully.

“Whatever works.”

Can we talk? Send. And she wanted to fling her phone across the room at the anxiety that exploded in her chest, forcing her heart into her throat. Rowan watched her with a mixture of sympathy and amusement as Savannah covered her face with both hands.

“It’ll be okay.”

“He’s probably working. It could be hours before he’s able to—” Her phone lit up with his number. “Oh God.”

“I’m out,” Rowan said, scrambling up from the couch and heading for the stairs. “Good luck!”

This was all her fault. Savannah glared at her retreating back, then answered, the anticipation at hearing his voice curling her toes. “Hello?”