“I’m sorry.” He reached out and touched my hand, and I stared at the tingling contact.
“Me too.” I wished for a large, close family, but that wasn’t in the cards for me. Finishing my slice, I tried not to focus on what I wished my life had been instead of what it was. “Thank you for the pizza.” I inhaled and settled back on the couch.
Bayden looked at the box, then at me. “You’re not done, are you? We have a whole pizza to eat, and you’re not pulling your weight here.”
His incredulous glance made me laugh harder, and I couldn’t help but lean in and press my lips to his. It was too perfect a moment not to enjoy him a little more.
The tangy taste of the red sauce on his lips didn’t scare me away, and I wanted to deepen the kiss despite the warning bells clanging in my head. I backed off and noticed his suspicious stare.
“What was that for?”
I lifted both shoulders. “Had to shut you up somehow,” I joked.
“Did you just…” he couldn’t finish his sentence through his faux outrage. I was content with life for the moment but wished for a future with the man beside me.
“Tell me more about your family. Where did you grow up?”
His innocent question put my guard up instantly. “It was me and my mom and dad. As I said, we’re not close.” There wasn’t much more I wanted to share.
He seemed surprised. “Is there a reason you’re not close?”
I shook my head. “We just aren’t.” I don’t think my parents wanted kids. I think I was a mistake, and my sister was the saving grace. I blinked back tears and sighed.
“I’m sorry.” He pulled me in for a hug before changing the subject back to my lightweight pizza status.
“I’ve seen you put back as many beers as any of the guys, and you’re telling me one slice will do you?” The laughter in his eyes brought mine back.
“What can I say? I’m a cheap date if you’re feeding me pizza instead of buying me beer.”
He pointed to the box. “We’re going to work on that.”
Chapter Sixteen
Bayden
“Did you invite her?” My mother studied me as I set the table for our usual Sunday dinner. She had asked me to invite Miranda, and I did, but Miranda politely declined. I knew there were issues with her family—she said as much—but I didn’t understand why she’d be hesitant to spend time with mine. I knew they’d accept her as one of their own.
“Yes. She said thank you for the kind offer, but she’s unable to join us.” I couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun we had yesterday, talking, laughing, eating pizza, and enjoying one another’s company.
“We don’t bite.” Ethan bumped his shoulder into me as he walked by.
“He doesn’t speak for me,” Quinn said as he headed into the kitchen to keep working on the food.
I glanced at my mother, lifting a helpless shoulder as she smiled and shook her head at my brother’s antics.
“I’m sorry she said no. Maybe next time.” Her hopeful tone saddened me. I doubted Miranda was going to come around by next Saturday, and I didn’t blame her. Whatever had happened in her past traumatized her.
Her family relationship was in shambles, and I’d never seen someone as sad as she’d been while telling me they were never close. It was apparent there was more to it than she was willing to share.
As much as I wanted to break down her walls and get to the heart of her suffering, I knew that wasn’t the way to help her. I promised myself that I’d become the shoulder she leaned on when she needed one.
“Pretty sure your food is burning.” Quinn almost made me drop the fork in my hand until I remembered I had prepared a salad, and he was messing with me.
“Pretty sure, no one thinks you’re funny.”
He snorted. “I think I’m funny.” With that, he disappeared into the kitchen as my mother fixed me with a look I didn’t like. I quickly placed the last fork and headed for the kitchen to grab the salad I’d thrown together.
My brothers brought out their dishes, but I barely noticed as the image of Miranda pinching an escaping mushroom and dropping it right back on her slice filled my mind. Her smile replayed in my head, and laughter hung in my ears.
“When’s the wedding?” Noah elbowed me, and Kandra flashed me an apologetic grin as we took our seats around the table.
“What wedding? Thought you made an honest woman out of her already.” I stared at Noah, silently warning him to keep his mouth shut.
He chuckled, and my brothers all shifted in their seats. Ethan checked his phone and earned a sharp sound of disapproval from our mother. He quickly put it away, and Quinn glanced from me to Noah, his brows pitched high on his forehead.
“Let’s eat.” My mother inhaled deeply. “Everything looks and smells so good.”
Conversations started up around the table, but I was stuck in my head again, thinking about the sorrow in Miranda’s eyes. I couldn’t imagine growing up without this support system. Sure, we didn’t always get along, but we were still there for one another.
The baby started crying, and I gestured at Noah and Kandra to enjoy their meal while standing up.
“He might be gassy.” Kandra smiled her thanks.
I scooped up Kip and rocked him gently before placing him on my shoulder. Rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades, I moved slowly, ignoring everyone else but the little man in my arms. He blinked at me, gave a toothless, old-man grin, then let out a huge belch.
“That’s gotta feel better,” I said, continuing to rock him.
“Who knew Bayden would be good with babies?” Quinn said to Ethan, who was busy looking at his phone under the table.
“Who knew Bayden would be good at anything?” Ethan said, then glanced up and around the table as if he couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud. I knew he said it in good humor, but I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a serious undertone there. Ethan and my relationship had shifted over the last few months, and I knew why.
“When are you and Miranda going to get together and have kids?” Quinn’s question earned him a glare from both Noah and Kandra, and I knew my brother and sister-in-law were trying to stare my other brother into silence.
He shrugged at them and glowered at me, empty fork in hand.
Kip yawned, and I lowered him back into his swing and buckled him up before returning to my spot at the table without saying a word. What could I say? I wasn’t about to out Miranda for not wanting kids. I already felt bad enough that I talked to Noah and Kandra about it. After all, that was Miranda’s secret, and I had no right to share her personal information with anyone. I’d made peace with my need for backup and support, but I didn’t feel good about potentially betraying her trust.
“When are you going to mind your own damn business?” I asked Quinn before looking directly at Ethan. “How is Angie?”
He jerked his head up and glared at me. “How the hell would I know?”
“Oh, my mistake, I guess.” My attempt to throw my family off my scent seemed to work as all heads swiveled toward Ethan, curious about this tidbit.
“Maybe we should ask you how she is?” Ethan’s lip curled into a slight sneer as he narrowed his eyes at me.
“Sheesh, you sound jealous, brother. I’m not interested in Angie. Not one bit.” I took a drink of my water as the air in the room thickened like Mom’s gravy.
“Stop it, you two.” Mom turned to Kandra and asked questions about Kip, but Ethan didn’t stop glaring at me. Quinn didn’t stop glancing from one to the other of us, and Noah’s worried expression told me he was putting everything together. Finally.
All I cared about was that no one was grilling me about Miranda anymore.
I pulled out my phone, comfortable that Mom was busy talking to Kandra, and sent Miranda a text. Thinking about you.
Knowing she was aching killed me. I couldn’t get the thought of her telling me to stop showing up at her place out of my head. I honestly thought we we
re past the formalities with the time we shared, but I’d gravely miscalculated.
I told myself I’d do better with no more unannounced, uninvited visits. I’d respect her boundaries and wishes, but I didn’t like the thought of her sitting at home, alone, without family to lean on.
My brothers might drive me insane, but I could count on them, and they could count on me. We’d gotten each other through some tough times.
“Are you eating that or making love to it?” Ethan scowled at me from across the table as I stared at the lettuce on my fork.
“If you think looking at something is the same as making love to it, I have some news about why you’re single.” I popped the bite into my mouth and crunched down as Quinn laughed out loud. I studied Ethan, daring him to say something else. I wasn’t putting up with anyone’s garbage tonight. Every comment would go for the throat if he wanted to mess with me.
“Do I need to separate you two?” My mother’s tone told me she was done with our shenanigans, though I heard the warmth and love underneath. She knew we’d work through our issues like we always had.
Ethan took a drink of his water, his dirty look not easing up one bit.
Even with him mad at me, I was grateful for my family. I knew this was a bump in the road; it wasn’t serious, and the feud wouldn’t last. How must Miranda feel? Helpless and hopeless to fix her situation? I couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t have made every attempt to repair whatever had happened between them.
At least, a lot more made sense now. I could understand her private nature and her closed-off attitude. Getting any details from her was like trying to get water from a stone. She was holding back because of pain, possibly shame, maybe even fear. Whatever her past was, it was terrible.
“This is great,” I said to Quinn as I took a bite of the thick stew he made.
“Thanks. I’ll give you the recipe.” He finished his last bite, his worried gaze still darting from me to Ethan.
Mom and Kandra got back to talking in a low voice, and I glanced at baby Kip, who was chewing on his foot and smiling at the ceiling as the swing rocked him gently. I glanced at the picture of my father watching over us and wondered what he’d say if he were here with us now.
He’d be disappointed in mine and Ethan’s tiff, but he understood boys. I didn’t doubt for a second he’d be holding Kip and never putting him down. He’d be telling him stories he told us a million times.
I’d give anything to hear one of his stories again or have him sitting right there in his empty chair, watching us talk, smiling happily as his eyes gave away how proud he was of all of us.
I was grateful for his lessons and my family’s love. For all the crucial moments, I’d been able to turn to them, and the times of need when they turned to me.
“So, Quinn, have you met anyone yet?” Noah’s voice broke into my reverie. I glanced at my brother, curiously. Did Noah know something about my twin that I didn’t?
Quinn shook his head, and I had a sense he was telling the truth. “Nah, I’m busy building my career, unlike all you chumps.”
I chuckled. It’s not like we didn’t all put in our fair share of hours into the family business. We were nearing the end of the new Sheriff Headquarters project, and all our hard work was showing.
I checked my phone under the table, hoping for a message from Miranda, but there was nothing. Maybe it was time to revisit the old farm, and not because I felt closer to Dad out there.
I finished the last bite of my dinner. My brothers had outdone themselves with Quinn’s hearty stew, the delicious homemade cheddar bacon biscuits Noah made from scratch, and Ethan’s fruit salad. Everything had been delicious.
Kandra laughed at something Mom said, and I glanced at them. Kip heard his mother and began looking for her past them, and I smiled at the curious look on his round little face.
Noah asked Ethan why he’d missed the after-work drinks yesterday, and I opened my ears for my brother’s answer, but Ethan had nothing to say. Quinn volunteered that Ethan had been strangely busy lately, and Noah agreed.
I took a drink of my water and studied Ethan’s face. His frown made me wonder what he’d been up to. I assumed I’d known, but I wasn’t so sure.
In my lap, my phone lit up, and my heart leaped. Maybe instead of going out to the farm tonight, I would get to see Miranda the old-fashioned way, without risk of arrest. I didn’t mind the change of plans. Especially when the plans potentially involved the woman I was sure I was falling for. I quickly checked the message, but my heart sank when I saw it wasn’t from Miranda at all.
The text was from Angie.
Without even opening it, I glanced at Ethan.
Chapter Seventeen
Miranda
“When are you coming home?” My mother’s screech filled my ears, and I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing this nightmare was over. Thoughts of Bayden came to mind. His gentle hugs, his kindness, the warmth in his smile, and I clung to that for comfort.
“I’m not coming back.” I could hardly speak around the lump in my throat.
Her voice rose to that pitch that usually set off neighborhood dogs. “Good! We don’t want you to come back. We’d lock the doors and call the cops on you like the criminal you are.”
I put my back to the darkest corner of my closet and slid down. Drawing my legs to my chest, I planted my chin on my knees and struggled not to let her words cut me. I wanted to tell her I wasn’t a criminal. I was one of the good guys, but I knew that all logic was lost while she was in the middle of an episode.
She needed to vent. It was healthy for her to get the words off her chest. She needed this outlet. A hundred times I promised myself that I’d change my number, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. What if something terrible happened and they couldn’t reach me? This was my penance, and I’d resigned myself to take the abuse years ago.
Why didn’t it ever get easier? Each hysterical call felt like every bone in my body was breaking. Why did her calls reduce me to nothing?
“Are you listening to me?” The words pierced through my skull like nails from a nail gun, and I blinked back tears.
“I’m listening.” It was hard not to when she was screaming.
“You know it’s all your fault. All of it. You let it happen!” The frenzied edge of her voice made me wince, and I struggled to bring my heart rate back to a reasonable level.
I was trying to be a dutiful daughter by letting her work through her grief like this. I wanted her to find peace, but she’d seemed to grow worse over the years, not better, and it killed me.
“I’m sorry.” I was sorry for everything that had happened. I was sad for all the pain we’d suffered. I hated the rift between us. I wanted a family like Bayden’s. I could have enjoyed family dinners, after-work drinks, and a business run by the tight-knit group.
“You’re not sorry! You’ve never been sorry!” The crash of broken glass on the other end of the line warned me she’d smashed something, and I held back a sigh.
“Is Dad there?” Was she safe, at least? Was someone watching over her to make sure she didn’t hurt herself?
“What do you care?” The piercing sound of her voice slipped deftly between my ribs like a knife to puncture my heart. “She’s asking about you.”
In the background, my dad growled something I couldn’t make out. At least she wasn’t alone.
“He said it’s none of your damn business if he’s here.” Her fury boiled over. “Why? Are you done talking to me? Done listening to the truth? Are you going to admit what you did?”
I shook my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. I wanted normalcy and stability and for my mother and father not to hate me so much. I needed them not to blame me for everything because they were wrong; it wasn’t my fault, but year after year, I heard the same story, and it always ended the same: yelling, accusations, and tears. We’d hang up, and the cycle would repeat until the day she would finally wear herself out.
I was tired of it all—tir
ed of the same awful feelings and painful conversations. Done with the animosity and vile she spewed every time we talked.
I should have expected her call and knew they’d get more frequent; they always did this time of year. It was nearing the anniversary of that awful day.
“Did you hang up on me?” Another crash of glass followed her rage.
“I’m still here.” I could only whisper the words as tears streamed down my cheeks.
“Well? Are you going to admit what you did?” The other end of the line went so quiet I wondered if she was holding her breath.
I opened my mouth, but the pain welling up in me overflowed, and my voice broke. Unable to speak, I heard her scream again, but I was swept up in the tidal wave of pain and loss. Could I handle another year of this? Could I take another week of this? Could I handle the rest of this call? I wasn’t sure anymore.
“I knew you wouldn’t take responsibility.” The caustic hatred in her voice burned like acid on raw skin, and I tried to shrug away the pain as I hid in the shadowy corner, safe only because the walls pressed against my back, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
Her only way to contact me was to call. She didn’t know where I was because I didn’t want her to find me. If she came here and ruined all the peace I’d worked so hard to create, I don’t know what I’d do.
“You’re not my daughter. I disown you.” As venom spewed from her lips, I searched internally for a cure-all, but there wasn’t one. I couldn’t talk sanity into a crazy person.
No, I’d continue to answer because it was the least invasive. Giving up wasn’t something my mother knew how to do. If I didn’t answer, she’d find me, and that was a scenario I wasn’t willing to consider.
“Your father wouldn’t miss you either.” She continued, showing no signs of stopping the tirade anytime soon, and I braced for impact.
I imagined Bayden’s arms around me, holding me close and soothing away the hurt blistering through my being. I wanted nothing more than to be held by him during this painful and never-ending guilt trip.
Fearless Hart (A Cross Creek Small Town Novel Book 2) Page 10
