I glared at Jonas then rolled my eyes then muttered, “I need another beer.” Then I looked back at Jonas, lifted my brows and asked, “Since you’re growing up so fast, do you want a beer?”

“Yep,” he answered instantly.

“Tough,” I replied, caught him by the neck, pulled him to me and kissed his forehead.

Then I let him go, pushed off the couch, gave Tate a “we’re going to talk later” look which only made him shake his head, still fighting his grin and I headed to the cooler outside.

When I got outside, I saw, through the sea of people, Bubba sitting on top of a picnic table at the bottom end of the yard.

I gave up on the beer, threw my bottle in an overflowing garbage bin and wended my way through bodies. When I got to him, I started to climb up carefully (my skirt was tight and I still had on my pumps) then Bubba’s hand came out and grabbed mine, holding firm and steadying me until I sat down next to him, hip to hip and he let my hand go.

He’d looked at me when I arrived and kept looking at me as I sat down but he didn’t say a word. I let this go on for awhile before I bumped him with my shoulder.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

Bubba didn’t answer so I turned to him.

“Bubba?”

“Miss my cloud,” he muttered then sat back, lifting a can of Coke to his lips, he took a deep slug.

I stared at the Coke, a Coke that was not a beer and it was not a bottle of bourbon, vodka or gin, then I stared at Bubba.

“You miss your cloud?” I asked.

He leaned into his elbows at his knees and didn’t reply.

I leaned into mine but did it twisted to him.

“Bubba, honey, talk to me,” I whispered.

“Motherfucker got Neeta,” he whispered back.

I put my hand to his back. “I know.”

“Krys was right, Laurie.” He was still whispering. “Coulda been anyone. Coulda been her and that would be on me.”

“Bubba,” I said gently.

His head twisted so he could look at me. “See her man?”

“Sorry?”

His eyes went over my back and he looked into the yard. My eyes followed his and I saw he was looking at Blake, standing apart from the crowd, a mostly empty bottle of bourbon in his hand, his face desolate, his manner removed, his eyes on the people in the backyard like he didn’t know who they were, even what they were, as if he’d been beamed to another planet to study aliens.

“Blake, her man,” Bubba replied, shook his head, looked away and muttered, “Fuck.”

“Honey –”

“He feels it, that f**ker, written all over him, and he should,” Bubba told me.

“Bubba –”

“Actually thought, long time ago, he’d be good for her. She wasn’t any good for Tate, too much shit between them, too much shit, but Blake, he was a good guy and he loved her. No shit there, he was solid, had a good job, had a strong hand with her. Don’t know what went wrong, don’t care. He fell down and she got raped with a –”

I leaned into him and said quickly, “Bubba, don’t.”

He looked to me and stated, “Coulda been Krys.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Still could be,” he went on like I didn’t speak. “Fucker’s still out there. And here I am,” he threw a hand out, “I’m f**kin’ Blake. Whatever went wrong along the way, he ain’t even a man anymore, proved it true when his woman got murdered and that’s me.” He shook his head, looking away again. “That’s me.”

“Honey –”

“Miss my cloud,” he whispered and his head dropped.

“She’s not dead, Bubba, and neither are you,” I told him, he didn’t reply and I kept going. “Nothing’s happened you can’t change.”

“Got the check and paperwork two weeks ago, gorgeous,” he told his lap. “Signed it. It’s done. I’m out. The bar is called Bubba’s but I’m out.”

“Then get back in,” I urged and his head twisted to look at me again.

“What?”

“You aren’t Blake,” I told him.

“Laurie –”

I jerked my head at his Coke. “Get yourself sorted out and get back in.”

“She don’t want me,” he replied.

“She wanted you once,” I reminded him.

“She don’t want me now.”

“Then remind her of why she wanted you then.” I got close to his face. “I don’t know him but I know this, I knew it the minute you walked up to the graveside today. You aren’t Blake.”

“Laurie –”

“You’re a good man, Bubba.”

“Gorgeous –”

“You’re a good friend, Tate said so.”

“He did?”

“Yes,” I smiled at him, “shit business partner, he said, but a great friend.”

Bubba shook his head and looked away.

“He named his son after you,” I whispered and felt Bubba’s body stiffen at my side.

He didn’t speak and I let the silence go for awhile.

Then I kept whispering. “You don’t have to sleep by her side to be certain she’s safe.” My arm slid around his bulk and I gave him a squeeze. “Think about that, Bubba. She might not care, she might be done, but it wouldn’t be about what you could get out of it. It would be about keeping her safe. Find a way to do that until they find this guy. Then whatever happens happens. But in the meantime, keep her safe. Yes?”

Bubba didn’t answer, just stared at the grass then tipped his head back and took another slug of Coke. I leaned into him for a second then moved away and hopped off the table.

“Getting late,” I told him.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“See you later?” I asked.

“Sure, Laurie,” he answered halfheartedly.

“Bye honey,” I whispered.

“Later,” he returned, not looking at me.

I moved away from Bubba, wending my way back through the crowd and feeling eyes on me when I did. My head turned left and I saw Blake staring at me, not studying me like I was a Martian, but staring at me with his face tight, his eyes sharp. There was something about it that sent a chill through me but I didn’t get to process why when I ran into something solid, something that put two hands to my hips.