by K. C. Lynn
Before I’m able to introduce myself, the little girl puts down the slice of pie on the table and extends her hand to me. “Hello, Mr. Jase, my name is Hope Catherine Evans and this here is my twin brother, Parker,” she says, jerking her thumb over at the boy next to her who holds my glass of sweet tea.
Feeling the first genuine smile I’ve had since coming here, I take her soft little hand in mine. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Hope Catherine Evans. And you, Parker,” I add, although he doesn’t seem as receptive as his sister. “I’ve heard a lot about you two from your Aunt Sam.”
“Really?” she asks excitedly. “What did she say?”
“She told me that you and your mom make the best pies in the world.”
She smiles proudly, nodding her head. “It’s true. Mama and I create the best ones, especially together.”
Her not-so-modest answer has me grinning even bigger.
She’s my kind of girl.
“Did you make the one I’m about to eat now?” I ask.
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s this one called?”
Her smile falters and she cuts a glance over at her brother before looking back at me. “Well…” she starts nervously, twisting her tiny hands together in front of her. “Daddy told me to tell you it’s called Asshole Pie but then Mama got upset with him and told me to tell you the truth. So it’s actually called Sweet Strawberry Pie.”
I smirk, amused by her honesty. “I like yours and your mom’s name much better.” My attention moves to Parker next, and I find him watching me. “How about you, Parker? Your aunt Sam tells me you’re quite the hockey player.”
He shrugs. “Yeah. So?”
Obviously, he’s not as easy to win over as his sister, but I ignore the attitude since I’m sure it has a lot to do with the black eye I’m sporting that matches his dad’s. “What position do you play?”
“Center.”
“Cool. Me, too.”
He straightens, his interest piquing. “You play?”
“Yep. Been playing as long as your dad. He was my left wing,” I add, unable to help myself.
“Nice try, asshole. More like you were mine,” Sawyer cuts in, stepping out of the house.
Perfect timing.
“Sawyer, watch your mouth,” Grace scolds, following out behind him.
Hope walks up to him with her hand out. “That’s five dollars for the swear jar, Daddy.”
His hard gaze moves from me down to his daughter and instantly softens. “Since when has it been five bucks?”
“Since I’m saving for the new Holiday Barbie.”
Yep, she’s definitely my kind of girl.
Reaching down, he sweeps her legs out from under her and hangs her upside down. She giggles as he lifts her to face level. “How about you take that pie back you gave him and I’ll buy you that Barbie myself.”
“Sorry, Daddy, but that wouldn’t be very polite.”
Clearly, her manners come from her mother.
She takes his face between both of her little hands. “But you know you own my heart.”
He grunts but kisses her before flipping her right side up and placing her to her feet.
“All right, come on, you two,” Grace says, waving the kids in. “Let’s go back inside and leave Mr. Jase and your dad to talk.”
“Okay, Mama,” Hope complies before turning back to me. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Jase.”
“You too, Hope Catherine Evans…and you, Parker.”
Parker nods back, seeming a little more receptive than when he first walked out.
“Play nice, Daddy,” Hope says, patting his arm before walking with her mother into the house.
I cock a brow at him. “Your kids are nice, clearly they take after your wife.”
Okay, that probably wasn’t the best way to start this conversation, but I can’t help myself. This is not fucking easy.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Crawford?” he asks, ignoring the dig.
“We need to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Then you can listen because I have a lot to say to you.”
His eyes narrow. “You think because you’re fucking my sister you can come to my house, talk shit, and think I’m going to listen?”
I tense, my self-control starting to slip. “If you don’t want fists flying in front of your kids, I suggest you watch what you say when it comes to Sam and me.”
“Did I say something that isn’t true? Your exact words were ‘payback.’”
Guilt settles over my chest, heavy and hard. “Look, I didn’t mean what I said the other day. I was pissed off and ran my mouth.”
“You think that makes it okay?”
“No, I don’t. But I’m here to tell you that I’m in love with her, and I’m not going anywhere. So you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m going to let you near my sister again.”
“That’s not up to you. She’s a big girl and can make her own decisions.”
“I disagree. She hasn’t made the best decisions when it comes to men.”
I stiffen, returning his glare. “Are you comparing me to that bastard ex of hers?”
He shrugs, crossing his arms. “If the shoe fits.”
I shoot out of my chair, anger burning in my blood, rich and thick. “I’d never put my fucking hands on her and you know it!”
He takes a step toward me. “The hell I do. You have a fucking vendetta against me because of Stephanie and you are trying to use my sister to do it.”
“This has nothing to do with that bitch, or you for that matter. This is about Sam and me!”
“Stop it!” Grace storms out of the house, placing herself between us. “You both need to calm down, the kids can hear you.”
We glare at one another, our chests heaving with fury.
“Look, both of you need to cut the shit,” she starts. “This is not about your stupid grudge. This is about Sam. She is what’s important. You hear me, Sawyer?”
He rears back, affronted. “Why the hell are you only calling me out?”
“Because he made an effort by coming here and you’re acting like an ass!”
That’s right!
I cross my arms over my chest, enjoying his torment. That’s until she speaks again.
“You’ve seen her this past week, Sawyer,” she says quietly, her anger diminishing. “She’s heartbroken and hasn’t stopped crying.”
The thought has my chest constricting painfully. Is it because she’s missing me as much as I am her? Or is it because I’m an asshole and she thinks I don’t love her?
I’m praying it’s not the latter.
“Fix this.” She points at him, her voice hardening again. “Or…or… No more pie for you!” Without another word she storms back inside, slamming the door behind her.
“Thanks a lot, asshole,” he snaps. “It wasn’t enough to come between my sister and me now you have to stir shit up with my wife.”
“I didn’t stir up shit with your wife. You did that because you’re an asshole.”
“I’m not an asshole, you’re an asshole!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!”
“Well you better get used to this asshole because I’m going to marry your sister.”
“The hell you are.”
“Yep. I am. I even have your parents’ blessing.”
“Fuck that! They did not.”
I smile smugly. “Sure did.”
“Buuull—shit.”
I shrug. “Believe what you want but it’s true.”
He starts to look unsure. “Yeah, well, even if it is my sister can still say no.”
“She could, but I’ll just keep asking until she says yes.”
“Is that so?”
“Yep. I told you I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
“Gotta go home sometime, Crawford,” he tosses back with a smirk.
&
nbsp; “I am home.”
The cocky smile slips from his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m moving here,” I tell him with a broad smile, happy to deliver the news. “I start my new job at the Charleston Fire Department in two weeks.”
If Sam says yes that is, but I keep that part to myself.
“No fucking way. You are not moving here. This is my goddamn town.”
I grunt at the ridiculous statement. This fucker would be the worst mayor ever.
“What exactly is pissing you off?” I ask, fed up with the back and forth. “Is this really about Sam or is this about you and me?”
“Of course it’s about you and me. I don’t fucking trust you.”
“If I wanted to use Sam to get back at you, I would have done it long ago.”
He glares at me but remains silent.
“You might not like me, but you know me,” I push on. “I don’t fucking play like that.”
He leans against the banister behind him, arms crossing over his chest again. “You should have come to us when you saw him hit her,” he says, steering the conversation in another direction.
Now I realize why he’s being a bigger prick than usual. “So that’s what you’re really pissed about. Because I didn’t call you?”
“If you cared about her, you would have come to us.”
“Fuck that! That’s Sam’s business, not mine.”
“It became yours when you witnessed it,” he snaps.
“Exactly, and that’s why I kicked his ass. I dealt with it my way.”
“Did you stop to think maybe I wanted to kick his ass? She’s my sister!”
“Well you weren’t fucking there. I was,” I bellow, anger rising hot and fast as I remember that night. The fateful moment that changed everything between us. “Are you seriously mad I kicked some guy’s ass for hitting your sister?”
“No. I’m pissed off that someone put their hands on her to begin with, and I’m also pissed off that when I go to kick his ass it’s going to have less meaning because you already did it.”
“Well, I was there, and I plan to always be there. I’ll never let anyone hurt her again. Which is why we need to figure this shit out because I won’t cause her pain.”
“You won’t if you leave.”
I shake my head, frustrated. “You don’t get it. I’m not going anywhere. I love her, and I plan to fight for her until my last fucking breath.”
His jaw locks down stubbornly.
“Just give me a chance. I’m not saying you have to like it. She’s your sister, I get that. But respect it. For no one else’s sake but hers.”
Silence stretches between us as he glares back at me. A few beats pass before I witness a small shred of acceptance cross his face.
Pushing from the banister, he steps closer to me, getting in my personal space. “If you’re lying to me and you hurt her, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand?”
It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to push back. Instead, I give a tight nod but add, “Two-way street, Evans. Brother or not, if you hurt her I’ll kick your ass…again.”
He grunts. “You did not kick my ass last time. I kicked yours.”
“Your eye is worse than mine.”
“The hell it is.”
“It is, and as much as I’d love to stand around and debate about it, I have better things to do.” I clap him on the shoulder. “We’ll discuss it at the next family supper. I can’t wait to try some of your wife’s pie.” Smirking, I descend the steps.
“I swear you have a fucking death wish, Crawford,” he calls to my retreating back. “And my sister has to say yes first, asshole.”
He’s right. However, I don’t plan on taking no for an answer.
CHAPTER 22
Sam
My hands are shoved in the pockets of my knee length skirt as I walk home from spending the afternoon exploring Charleston. Sitting around the house was driving me crazy, I needed a distraction. But as much as I loved seeing what this beautiful city has to offer, it did little to ease my conflicted heart.
I’m beginning to think my mom is right and I need to call Jase. I need the closure but the problem is I don’t want it.
I want him.
I just don’t know how we could ever make it work, not when his hatred for my brother runs so deep.
Sighing, I turn down my street and decide when I get home I’m going to head over to my brother’s for a visit. If anyone can cheer me up it’s my darling niece and nephew. It’s also time I face Sawyer. He called last night, wanting to come over because Mom had called him after our talk but I just couldn’t. I was too emotionally drained after telling my mom everything about Grant and Jase; I didn’t have it in me to do it again so soon. I’m sure my father and Sawyer are already plotting Grant’s death, something I need to make sure doesn’t happen. Not for Grant’s sake but theirs.
As I make it to my driveway, I come to a quick stop and frown at the tipped over basket of peaches spilled all over the place.
“What on earth…” I walk up the paved concrete, my heart beginning to thunder as I kneel down next to the strewn fruit and find a note dangling from a piece of white ribbon tied to the handle of the basket. My hands tremble as I pull it off and unfold it. As I read the words written on the paper, the world stops around me.
All the reasons I love peaches.
They’re sweet and soft. Vibrant and fresh. They stand out boldly amongst all the other meager fruits because they are the prettiest.
They’re perfect.
They are also loyal and grow best when surrounded by family.
This must be why I fell in love with a girl who smells just like them, looks like them, and tastes like them.
I’ve also heard they are very forgiving and give second chances. I’m hoping this is true because I’ve come to realize I can’t live without peaches.
I need them to survive.
I need you.
Tears stream down my cheeks, blurring the last of the words in front of me. Noticing a trail of peaches wrapping around my house, I follow them and find Jase sitting on my front steps, holding a small wrapped gift box. My hand covers my mouth, stifling the sob that escapes when he flashes me his sexy smirk.
“Hey, Peaches,” he greets me, rising to his feet.
“What are you doing here?”
He walks down the steps, stopping just in front of me. “I came to see you.” His large hands cup my cheeks, the touch sending my fragile heart into an emotional tailspin. “Can we talk?”
Unable to speak, I nod, leading him up the steps and into my house. I’m aware of how close he is when we enter, that ever-present pull between us more profound than ever. Dropping my purse on the counter, I spin around and find him standing a few feet away. Close enough to smell. Close enough to touch.
“Can I get you something?” I ask, my voice raw from the emotion threatening to suffocate me.
He shakes his head. “You’re all I need right now.”
My heart warms yet yearns for more. So many words hang between us. I desperately want to tell him how much I’ve missed him and how I haven’t stopped thinking about him since I left, but I swallow the confession.
“You look good,” he remarks softly.
“You’re a terrible liar. I’m a total mess.” I swipe at my tear-stained cheeks, knowing my mascara is probably everywhere right now.
His steps are purposeful as he closes the distance between us. Placing the gift he’s holding on the counter, he plants both hands on either side of me, his powerful body crowding mine against the sink. My breathing turns shallow, his close proximity wreaking havoc on my senses and heart.
Leaning in, he trails his nose across my damp cheek. “You’re the prettiest mess I’ve ever seen.”
I bite my trembling lip, my fingers curling into his shirt as I fight the need to drag him closer and soak in his warmth. I’ve missed him so much it hurts.
“I’m
sorry, Sam.” His sincere apology is nothing more than a whisper but it has the power to heal so much. “So fucking sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. You have to believe me.”
My eyes drift closed, my heart breaking at the painful memory. “I do believe you, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting any less.”
“I know, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But, if you give me a chance, I promise to make it right. I can’t lose you.”
“I don’t want to lose you either.” I swallow hard, trying to contain my emotions. “But I’m at a loss, Jase. I can’t choose between you two. I love you both too much.”
His arms come around me, holding my shattered pieces together. “You don’t have to choose, baby. I’d never make you do that.”
I shake my head, not understanding how he can say that when they’ve made it clear I can’t have them both.
His fingers curl beneath my chin, lifting my eyes to his. “I went and saw him today,” he tells me, his thumb swiping away my flowing tears.
I still, hope flaring inside of me. “Sawyer?”
He nods. “After I saw your parents.”
Complete and utter shock rolls through me.
“You have a nice family. I especially enjoyed meeting your niece and nephew.”
My breath hitches on a sob. “You met Hope and Parker?”
“Yeah. They’re nice kids, even though they tried feeding me Asshole Pie from your brother.”
A watery laugh escapes me. I can only imagine how awkward that was for him. I feel bad he was alone to deal with it, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it, if his sexy grin is any indication.
His expression softens as he reaches up to stroke the edge of my smile. I place my hand over his and lean into his touch, feeling the cracks of my soul beginning to heal.
“We had a good talk and came to an understanding,” he continues. “We found something that we both agree on.”
“What’s that?”
“Your happiness.”
Warmth explodes through me; warming the cold and empty space I’ve had inside of me this past week.
He rests his forehead on mine. “I love you much more than I ever hated him.”
Hot tears track down my face as he finally says the words I’ve longed to hear. “I love you too, so much.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I bury my face in his shoulder and cry. His familiar scent invades me, soothing my fragile composure.
