“Hunter mentioned us all going out tonight,” Lacy said.
I turned to look at her. “Going out?”
She nodded. “He was promoted to lieutenant.”
I felt my mouth fall open. “What! When?”
A giggle slipped from her lips. “This week! He didn’t want to say anything until it was official. He wants to go out and celebrate. Dinner and then to Brew’s for some fun.”
I glanced down at her eight-month-pregnant stomach. Lacy followed my gaze and then harrumphed. “Excuse me, but just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t get myself into a sexy dress, eat a good meal that we all know Dad will pay for, and then go get my moves on.”
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Get your moves on?”
She nodded. “Hell yes. I can still…do that.”
I arched one of my brows. “Do what?”
“Move. My hips and get down.”
“Get down? Okay, did you age like fifty years or something since becoming pregnant again?”
“Screw you, Willa. Besides, I saw Bree earlier. She’s in town for all the Thanksgiving celebrations.”
“Oh my gawd! Please don’t tell me she took you shopping for a dress!” I brought my hand up to my mouth to keep in the burst of laughter that threatened to escape.
My older sister gave me a seething look. “As a matter of fact, she did. And I must say that if I wasn’t already pregnant, Connor would surely be knocking me up tonight after he sees me in it.”
I snarled my lip. “Gross.”
Lacy casually shrugged. “By the way, Bree bought you a new dress for tonight too.”
“Sorry, can’t go. It appears my babysitter is going out on the town with her husband.”
“Ha ha. I already asked Mom and Dad if they could watch the kids after dinner. They said of course, so no excuses, Willa. You are going out tonight to get your dance on, too, and hopefully you and Aiden can make up and bump the ugly.”
I was positive I blinked at least a dozen times as I stared at my sister, who was now making an obscene gesture with her hips, or at least trying to. Her belly wasn’t helping matters.
“I believe you mean bump uglies.”
Lacy rolled her eyes. “Potato, patato.”
Turning, I headed to the cabinet and opened it. I grabbed a notebook and started to count jars of apple butter.
Lacy didn’t say anything for the longest time before she finally spoke again. “Willa, how long are you going to stay mad at him?”
I slammed the notebook down on the counter and spun around. “Me? Mad! How long am I going to stay mad? He’s the one who walked out on me—twice! He’s the one who refuses to open up. He’s the one who put distance between us. Hell, he ran to Boston to avoid me, and he won’t return any of my calls or messages. When he sees me, he turns and walks in the opposite direction. So don’t make this seem like it’s my fault! I think he made it very clear where he stands. Yet I’m the one who gets blamed?”
Lacy chewed on her lip and looked away.
“That’s what I thought!” I snapped before turning back and staring at the jars of butter. My veins pulsed with anger.
“He didn’t go to Boston, by the way. He was at his grandfather’s hunting cabin. That’s what Connor said Hunter told him.”
I slowly turned and looked at her. “What?”
She nodded. “Hunter said Aiden needed some time alone.”
That was understandable, but I hated that Aiden wasn’t sharing any of this with me. Why in the world was he pushing me away so hard?
Lacy went on. “Connor said Hunter told him Aiden might have PTSD.”
I felt my chest rise and fall as my breath grew heavier and faster. This wasn’t anything new to me. I’d had so many nightmares where I saw the look on Aiden’s face when he heard that tractor backfire. The way he leapt to cover me. To protect me.
My chin wobbled, and I forced it to stop. “I know he does.”
My sister pushed off the counter and walked up to me. “Connor also told me that he ran into Mitch Hathaway, the new cop on the force who used to be a SEAL.”
She paused as if she was waiting for me to acknowledge if I knew Mitch.
“I, um, I’ve met Mitch at The Coffee Pot.”
“Well, Mitch told Connor that a guy who used to serve with Aiden tried to commit suicide a few weeks ago. His wife walked in and thankfully stopped him. I’m going to guess that might be one reason Aiden has been distant.”
I brought one hand to my mouth, and the other to my stomach. “Did he have TBI?”
She looked at me with a confused expression.
“Sorry, it means Traumatic Brain Injury. From what I’ve been reading, a lot of these guys have it and are undiagnosed. Mainly because they don’t ever report it if they get hit on the head, or if they have issues after a bomb goes off near them, for fear of being taken off their SEAL teams.”