Before Jamaica Lane (On Dublin Street, #3)(72)

She appeared in the doorway as I set about making coffee. My eyes washed over her. ‘You need to take better care of yourself.’

Joss smoothed a strand of hair back into her ponytail. ‘I’ve been busy. A literary agent in New York now represents me.’

A teaspoon of sugar froze over my mug. ‘She loved your book?’

‘She loved my book.’

I grinned excitedly. ‘Joss, that’s amazing.’

Her smile was bright, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Yeah.’

My gaze dropped to her stomach. ‘So what’s –’

‘She thinks I should start working on another.’ She interrupted me, almost frantically.

I knew deflection when I saw it. I let her get away with it. Just for a little while. Coffee made, biscuits on a plate, I carried them into the sitting room for us and settled back on her couch while she curled up in an armchair. Her words were hurried, breathless, so lacking in her usual composure that I could feel the unease growing in my gut. It was clear she was willing to talk to me about her books until she was blue in the face if it meant I wouldn’t ask about the pregnancy.

Finally, just when I was about to stop her and cut to the chase, we heard the sound of the front door opening. I watched Joss tense, as if she was a fragile pane of unsupported glass, bracing against a harsh wind.

My heart pitter-pattered on her behalf as she chewed on her lower lip, her eyes on the sitting room door as heavy footsteps made their way toward it. Braden’s large frame filled the doorway. His eyes were tired and the corners of his mouth were turned down. ‘Liv.’ He gave me a chin lift in greeting before his gaze moved to Joss. They narrowed at the sight of her. ‘Did you sleep today?’

Joss shook her head. ‘I couldn’t.’

Annoyed, he said, ‘You need to get some sleep.’ Without another word he turned on his heel, tugging at his tie as he wandered out of sight.

The tension between them was obvious. The apartment was thick with it. ‘Joss,’ I whispered. ‘Girl, what are you doing?’

‘Don’t.’

So I shut up, not sure what to say, or how to help. A few minutes later Braden walked past the door, calling out, ‘I’ve got a late meeting with Adam.’ The front door shut behind him.

Joss flinched and I saw her throat working as she tried not to cry.

‘Oh, honey.’ I moved to get up to hug her, but she held up a hand, warding me off.

Tears glimmered in her eyes. ‘You hug me and I won’t stop crying. And I need to not cry.’

I stayed where I was.

‘It’s not me,’ she promised. ‘I haven’t shut him out. I’m just having a really hard time right now and I ruined it. I ruined this for him.’

‘He’s the one not talking to you?’

‘He talks,’ she answered dryly. ‘But it’s … it’s like he can barely stand to be in the same room as me. He hasn’t asked me how I feel about it now that the shock has worn off. He doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want me to touch him …’

‘I’m sorry, Joss.’

‘He’s never been like that. I think I’ve f*cked up.’ She laughed hysterically and immediately burst into hard, shaking sobs.

There was no way I wasn’t hugging her.

Cradling her against me, I held her until she cried herself out.

When her body stopped shuddering, I heard the soft whimper of her breathing and realized that she’d fallen asleep on me. I couldn’t move. I daren’t.

Fifteen minutes later, the front door opened and Braden came striding back into the sitting room, looking like a man who meant business. Clearly, he’d decided not to meet Adam. I don’t know what his purpose was in coming back – whether it was to shout at Joss or try to bridge the distance between them – but I instantly glared him into silence.

‘She cried herself to sleep,’ I whispered.

The muscle in his jaw ticked as he looked down at her. ‘She doesn’t cry a lot,’ he answered me quietly.

For some reason that made me want to cry. The pain my friend was feeling seemed to seep from her into me. ‘You have to forgive her.’

‘It’s not about that,’ he replied hoarsely, his eyes trained on her sleeping face. ‘I’m not angry. I’m just disappointed.’

‘That’s worse.’

He ran a hand through his hair. ‘This is our kid, Liv. Problems with us I can handle. But this is our kid. She should be happy.’

‘You know it’s not that easy. You also don’t know what’s going on in her head, because you won’t give her the time of day,’ I hissed, knowing I shouldn’t get angry at him but still shaken from Joss’s meltdown.

Braden gave me a look that would have cowed a lesser woman. Okay, who was I kidding? I was cowed. ‘Are you done?’

I didn’t answer, thinking a smart-ass comment wouldn’t go over so well right now.

Without another word, Braden approached me and I tensed, wondering what he was going to do. Carefully he leaned down and scooped Joss up into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Joss roused long enough to wrap her arms around his neck and snuggle into his chest.

My throat closed as I looked up at them. They had to work this out. They were that couple. If they couldn’t work out their problems, what chance did the rest of us have?