He nodded. “Yup. All that damn estrogen in the house has me in knots. Had to talk to Nan. She always makes me tense. Never know when that bitch is gonna blow. You still smoking cancer sticks over her crazy ass?”

I didn’t want to talk about Nan, but I also didn’t want anyone talking about her. Not like that. “She’s not a bitch, and she’s not crazy,” I said, slamming my truck door a little too hard.

Mase shrugged. “Whatever. You can be hot for her, but she’s still a mean-ass woman who drove you to smoke.”

“She’s misunderstood. I drove myself to smoke. I made mistakes, and I was stressed. I’m done with the smoking, so let that go, would ya?”

Mase grunted and motioned for me to get into his truck. “Let’s go get a beer and discuss shit that isn’t Nan-related.”

I’d started to open his truck door when my phone buzzed.

She’s at Harlow Carter’s house. Give her the cream envelope.

Cope wanted me to bust up in a baby shower full of women and give Nan another fucking weird envelope? Shit.

I debated for a second before giving in and reaching into my truck to grab the cream envelope I had in my glove compartment.

“What’s that?” Mase asked when I climbed into his truck.

“I need to drop something off at your sister’s place . . . for your other sister. Let’s stop there first.”

“What?” he asked, looking at me like I was insane.

“Just do it. Please. Won’t take me but a second.”

Mase shook his head and started up his engine before heading to the Carters’ house where I’d find Nan.

Nan

“That dress is fantastic,” Bethy said as she came up beside me.

Bethy was Blaire’s best friend. We had never been buds, but lately she’d gone out of her way to speak to me in passing. She had once been the cart girl at the country club, and now she was married to the owner of the only five-star hotel in Rosemary Beach. They had built it together. Again, another nauseating love story I’d never experience.

“Thanks. It’s from Milan,” I replied, knowing that would impress her, even though the truth behind it was that my mother had bought it for me three weeks after my birthday this year because she forgot my actual birthday while in Italy.

“It looks like it,” Bethy replied. “I’m impressed that you’re here. I know you love Nate, and your relationship with Blaire has gotten better lately, but I honestly didn’t expect you to come.”

How was I supposed to respond to that? I had to come. This was for Rush’s baby. Did they all not want me here? Did my RSVP cause problems for Harlow?

“Don’t get me wrong. Blaire was pleased that you were coming. Harlow even said more than once how happy she was that you were coming,” Bethy quickly followed up.

I nodded, unsure what to say, and the front door opened. In walked Mase Colt-Manning and Major. My stomach sank. Not what I had been expecting.

“Mase, what are you doing back here? I told you when it’s over, you can come back with Rush and Grant and eat all the leftovers.” Harlow playfully scolded the brother we shared. A brother who adored her and hated me. I looked away from both of them and stared out the window, hoping that I looked bored with life in general.

“We’re leaving, just needed to drop something off first,” he replied. I glanced over out of curiosity to see what they were dropping off, and my eyes collided with Major’s. He was approaching me, and in his hand was a cream-colored envelope. I stared down at it until he lifted his hand and held it out toward me.

I quickly took it and turned my attention back to the waves outside without saying a word to him. Every eye in the room was on me. As much as that made me uncomfortable, what I really wanted to do was open the envelope and see what strange thing he had written this time.

“That’ll be all. You ladies have fun now.” Major’s voice filled the room. Several called out good-byes and “We will, don’t worry.”

I just stared down at my envelope.

Later, when I found a moment to excuse myself and use the restroom, I pulled out the envelope I had tucked away in my purse. Surprisingly, no one had asked me about it. I got curious glances but nothing more. Sliding the familiar stationery out of the thick envelope, I read the words.

Tight clothes in all the right places. Another thing that makes you beautiful.

That was all it said.

Three envelopes, three messages, one of them insulting. Or so I thought. I wasn’t sure just yet. He could have mentioned my personality or my ability to make him laugh or my big heart. Snarling at that thought, I realized I was thinking about how Rush thought of Blaire. Not how someone thought of me. When someone thought of me, he thought of tight clothing, not big hearts.

I tossed my purse onto the bed, changed out of the clothes I’d worn to the market, and put on my pajama bottoms and a tank top. It was time for some Netflix and popcorn. I’d run later. I wasn’t in the mood to burn calories right now. I needed to sulk. I might even add some chocolates to the popcorn. I’d need to do a ten-mile hike later, but it would be worth it.

If I didn’t have to think about these damn letters and my lack of qualities to make me beautiful, then I’d be fine. I’d bet he wouldn’t like me in tight clothing if I gained ten pounds. I might eat myself fat. That would be a fun distraction. Maybe then I’d find a man who loved me for me. Not some stupid pretty boy who liked my tight clothing. Asshole.

Major

Three days, three envelopes later, and nothing. Not one damn thing. She wasn’t texting, calling, or hunting me down. Cope had no fucking clue how to hook a woman. I knew this better than anyone. I was the master manipulator. Why did he think he could send me on this ridiculous letter-delivery adventure and believe it would work? Apparently, whatever these letters said wasn’t enough.