The Keaton Series Boxed Set

by B. A. Wolfe

  She rolled her gorgeous eyes. “Not your house in Denver, your parents’ house in Keaton. But truth be told,” She pointed her fork at the cake. “Damn good cake.”

  “I knew it.”

  She blushed, her gaze drifting down to her plate. “Keaton this weekend?” Her voice seemed unsure as she peered up.

  “We’ll see. I have a football game.” That was more painful to say than I ever imagined.

  “Maybe I’ll see you?”

  “Maybe.” Oh she’d be seeing me. There was no doubt about it.

  Twenty-Four

  Cassandra

  A SMELL SO DIVINE permeated my nose as I made my way inside the Bradley’s home. “We’re here,” I said, shutting the door behind me. I eased Jase’s diaper bag from my shoulder. Trish’s cheerful self appeared from around the corner with a huge smile plastered to her face as she all but ran to us.

  “Nana couldn’t wait to give you squeezes. Yes, she sure did miss this little boy.”

  Her voice gradually changed to a baby voice that not only made Jase smile, but had me doing the same. I slid my car keys inside the diaper bag and knelt beside her.

  “I’ve never seen such a cheery baby before. What are you feeding this kid?” Her arm wrapped around my shoulders.

  “I like to think you’re as happy as the environment around you. I try my best to make sure he knows he’s loved.” His arms and legs wiggled to Trish’s high-pitched voice as she continued to coo over him.

  Trish had Jase out of his car seat and into her arms in no time. “Well, you’ve done a great job.” Swaying him back and forth, we headed to the living room where she lowered him into the swing. “Is there anything you need or want in your room? Anything at all you just tell me what you need. I want you to be comfortable while you’re here.”

  “Actually, this sounds weird, but do you still have the blue quilt? Jason and I used it for a picnic once and I don’t know,” I said, pausing as I shuffled my feet. “I think it would be nice to use it again.” I’d used that comforter to cover Aidan the night we got back from Dog Gone.

  Her face glowed. I didn’t know why I thought that might upset her, but by her expression, it was far from the truth. “This makes me so happy to hear. Unfortunately, Dan wanted me to switch it out with the peach one, so he has it now. I can switch them back, though.”

  Aidan has it?

  “Oh no, that’s okay. I don’t mind using the peach one. It means just as much to me as the blue one.” The peach quilt had comforted me many nights while I lay there, sometimes crying into it. It was a part of the Cassandra who needed it, this house, and a motherly figure more than she realized.

  “Consider it yours.” Trish’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

  I shook my head. “I can’t take it, Trish.” I remembered the story Jason had told me, that it had belonged to the daughter Trish and Bart never had. The one she so desperately wanted, but had miscarried.

  Her hands covered mine, holding them tightly. “Yes. I want you to. It doesn’t have anywhere else to be, Cassandra.”

  My heart squeezed as tight as the grip she had on my hands. Something unexplainable happened in that moment. She was more of a mom to me than the one I’d had my whole life. I pulled my hands from hers and threw my arms around her.

  “Let’s go grab that peach quilt for you,” she said, sniffling.

  I followed her to the spare bedroom, where she headed straight for the closet, digging and shuffling inside it. My eyes scanned the room that had once taken me in. If walls could talk these would have a million tales to tell from my one visit. My wants, desires, and fears all spoken in privacy from the depths of my heart kept within this very room.

  “I think Dan secretly missed the quilt.” She smirked as she closed the closet door.

  “Why’s that?” My eyes continued to wander, pausing at the blue quilt draped over the bed and then on a book that rested on the nightstand.

  “It was his, of course. Grandma Maggie made it for him the week after he was born. He slept with it every night until he left for College. Then he passed it to Jason. I think he missed his brother, because Jason slept with it every night for a long time. He took it everywhere with him too. He never did say why, but I think it brought him more comfort than he liked to admit. Something about this blue blanket, huh?”

  I closed my eyes. Her words swirled like a carnival ride through my mind. Did I understand correctly? It was Aidan’s blanket? It wasn’t Jason’s? My heart thudded erratically. It was Aidan’s blanket that gave comfort to his brother and at one point to me too?

  My lids lifted and Trish stood before me.

  “Here you go. All yours.” She pressed a kiss to my cheek and laid the heavy quilt in my arms.

  A comforting smell seeped through me as I inhaled deeply.

  “How about we go fix dinner?” she asked.

  I nodded and clutched the quilt to my chest, willing the beating of my heart to slow as I followed her out.

  ***

  I expelled the air from my cheeks and threw the covers aside. Something felt off kilter as I lay there, staring at the popcorn ceiling. The evening had been exactly what I needed, a normal family dinner. But I felt lonely. And it wasn’t like I was alone. Bart and Trish were sound asleep upstairs. But nothing helped me shake the feeling.

  I made my way to Jase and thought about snuggling him in the rocker and trying to sleep that way. But the sight of him stopped my grabby hands. I had just got him to bed an hour ago; I needed him to sleep. With the monitor in tow, I decided to try an alternative method and headed upstairs.

  The kitchen cabinet creaked as I opened it to pull out a glass. I turned toward the sink, ready to fill my glass with water when a noise startled the bejesus out of me. I craned my neck, trying to figure out where the sound came from. The jiggle of a door handle from the front of the house stopped my heart and rooted my feet.

  The front door. Oh god.

  This was a moment I feared the most. Did I scream? Did I run at the person and try to take him on myself?

  Inhaling short spurts of air, I quietly set my glass on the counter and dropped to all fours. I crawled like a ninja until I rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of a baseball bat by the door. I stood, scrambled to the bat, grabbed it, and fisted it in my hands, ready to give the intruder a rude awakening.

  I struggled to keep my eyes from pinching shut as I stood still as a statue. What in the hell am I doing? As fear struck me hard, the door opened. I held my breath and swung the bat at the dark figure.

  Did I hear the door unlock? Did the intruder have a key?

  A hand stopped the bat mid-swing. “What the heck, Cassie,” a male voice whisper yelled. The burglar called me by my name? The light bulb in my head went off.

  I looked him over and my eyes widened. Aidan. He wore a baseball cap, a tee and jeans that made him hard to recognize, but his eyes glowed their normal chocolate and green hue. “Oh my god. I thought you were a-a—”

  “Definitely not a burglar, Sweet Tea,” Aidan interrupted.

  My muscles relaxed and I released the bat from my death grip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you here.”

  He eyed me like I was a freaking mental patient just released. Or better yet, just escaped. He propped the bat near the front door

  “It’s well after midnight. Why are you here so late?” I crossed my arms over my chest, rubbing the chills away.

  He adjusted his cap. “We had a game tonight and I left after it ended. Anything else? Or can I head to my room?” He smirked, clearly teasing me.

  I dropped my arms to my sides. “Yeah, sorry.” Expelling a deep breath, I headed back toward the kitchen. My heart still raced like crazy, but I wasn’t sure if it was from being frightened or the fact Aidan was here.

  “Whoa. Wait up, Sweet Tea.” His fingers wrapped around my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “What’re you doing up so late? Are you okay?” His voice was so quiet, the breathing on the baby monitor sounded loude
r. With a hand still holding my arm, he circled me until he stood in my path. He eyed me, waiting for an answer.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I was getting some water. Then I heard the door and I panicked.” In typical Cassandra fashion, I might add.

  He lowered his shoulder, letting his bag drop to the floor. “You’re gonna have to work on your Catwoman skills a little more.” I playfully slugged him in the shoulder. “Come here, I’ve got something for you. It’ll help.”

  “What is it?” I asked, following him into the kitchen.

  “You’ll see.” He reached under the cabinet for a small pot. “Grab the milk for me.”

  Once I gave him the milk, he poured some into a pan, added a few dashes of spices, and whisked the concoction together. Once in awhile he’d steal a glance at me over his shoulder. Getting my exhausted expressions to peak with a smile each time.

  “Come here,” he whispered, motioning with his head to the stove. “Keep whisking for me?”

  I nodded and did as he asked. He returned with two mugs, and placed them on the counter. Grabbing the whisk from me, he took it out of the pan, and poured the milk into each one.

  “Warm milk with cinnamon and vanilla. Works like a charm.” He handed me a steaming mug.

  I hugged the cup with both hands as my lids swept over my eyes and I let the sweet aroma of spices comfort my nose. “Thank you,” I told him as I lifted each lid open.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. Right as my mind began to register the proximity of our bodies and the way the room seemed to close in around us, his head dipped down and he pressed his lips to my forehead. “Get some sleep.”

  I peered up through my lashes, watching him realize right as I did, what just happened.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He gave his head a shake as if he was trying to come to his senses as well.

  “It’s okay.” I flashed him a warm smile.

  He still seemed upset. “Get some sleep, Sweet Tea.”

  “You too,” I whispered.

  He grabbed his mug, and before he rounded the hall and disappeared, he stopped and peered over his shoulder, which sent my body tingling again.

  I didn’t know if it was the hot mug that heated my body, the aroma of spice and vanilla, or the tight kitchen we stood in. But my body and mind were zoned; soaking in everything around it. Aidan’s kiss had felt so natural, normal, and sincere. But was it okay—was there any way it wasn’t wrong—that the feel of his lips on my skin had felt . . . good?

  Twenty-Five

  Dan

  THE SUN WASN’T EVEN up yet. I dragged my tired ass out of bed, threw on my jeans from yesterday, a white tee, and covered my messy hair with a baseball cap. Taking the hoodie between my fingers, I left my room and made my way to the kitchen. My dad stood in front of the coffee pot, wearing his work clothes—an old button up flannel shirt and battered Wranglers.

  I cleared my throat. “Hey, Dad.”

  He didn’t turn around. “Son. What are you doing up?”

  “I planned on going to the farm with you today. That okay?”

  He poured the coffee into his mug. “No, we don’t need any help today.”

  “Well, I planned on going.” I slipped the sweatshirt over my head, pulling the hood back from my head.

  He turned, twisting the cap on his travel mug. “We don’t need your help, son.”

  Damn. That one hurt. I threw my hands up. “Give me a break. I’m trying here. Let me come with.”

  He lifted his tired eyes and met my stare. “Why don’t you just stay here?”

  Before I could get out another sentence he was gone, out the door, and probably already in his truck.

  Goddamn him. I headed back to my room, slamming the door behind me and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I’m trying, Jase. I really am. I don’t know what more to do or how much more of their hatred I can take,” I said to the air around me as if he were listening. I lifted my eyes from the floor and sighed heavily. I pulled my hoodie off and tossed it behind me on the bed.

  It looked like what I had planned for tomorrow would be my plan for today. Leaving my room, I stalked out to my car, pulled out the gift I had bought, and headed back inside to put it together.

  I gave the finished product a final inspection and smiled. God, I hoped Cassie liked it. I hauled it back into my room and went into the kitchen. It was almost seven. Mom had already left to run some errands, so I took it upon myself to whip up breakfast. Nothing fancy, of course. Hell, I was no master chef, but a man could try.

  The door to the basement creaked open just as I finished. “Morning,” I said, eyeing Cassie’s fresh morning glow. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were tired, but her smile was present. She held a wide-eyed Jase in her arms as she strolled past me.

  “Good morning,” she said, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “What? No bat this time?” I couldn’t resist teasing her as I stacked pancakes on a plate and tossed the fruit I’d chopped in a bowl.

  She juggled Jase and got a bottle ready at the same time. “Very funny. What are you doing?”

  “I made breakfast.”

  Her eyes grew wide as she noticed the table set for two as I set the food on it. “Why?”

  “Can’t someone do something nice?” I reached for Jase, who was way too much of a morning baby. His smiles were constant as I took him in my arms.

  “I guess. Where are your mom and dad?”

  “Mom ran into town, and Dad’s at the farm.” She took Jase back and sat in a chair at the table as she fed him. I poured two mugs full of coffee. It was my third cup already.

  “Thanks,” she said as I set the mug in front of her. “You didn’t go with your dad?”

  “No,” I told her, remembering how that moment went this morning. “It wasn’t for lack of trying, though.”

  We sat in silence as Jase kept us entertained. Another mug of coffee later, he was fed, burped and sprawled on a blanket.

  “What’s the deal, Aidan?” Cassie asked, leaning back in her seat.

  “What do you mean?” I eyed her. She looked serious. This wasn’t her sweet side. In fact, this was the side I admired—her constant curiosity.

  “You know what I mean. With your parents.”

  I forked a couple of pancakes on her plate and scooped fruit next to it, then sank back in my chair. “It’s the million dollar question. I was wondering when you were going to ask it.”

  “So tell me. I want to know. I need to know.”

  “What do you want to know, Cassie?” I set the syrup down and lifted my eyes to meet hers.

  “Why’d you leave?” She held her gaze on mine, her eyes laced with disappointment.

  “Let me guess, you think I’m a selfish dick too? That I left for reasons that only involved me?” My tone was harsh, but I was sick of the assumptions. They had no clue. None.

  “That’s not what I said.” Her gaze broke away from mine as she sipped her coffee. “I mean, it does kind of look like it, though. Didn’t you want to be with your brother?” she asked, her eyes sad as she set her mug down.

  If only she knew.

  “Every day, Cassie. I miss my brother every goddamn day.”

  “Tell me. I want to understand.”

  “Why?” She’d already made up her mind about me. I knew it would come sooner or later.

  Her smile was small but present. “Stop being difficult or I won’t eat this breakfast.”

  “What a threat,” I teased back.

  A soft chuckle left her lips. “It’s all I got.”

  I drew in a heavy breath and hoped she understood. “I left because of what Jase told me.”

  “That’s it?” she asked as if she weren’t satisfied with my answer. “Can you elaborate a little?”

  I set my fork down and leaned back in the chair, my knee anxiously bouncing. “He told me if I stayed here and I didn’t go to college, it meant I knew he was going to die and I was trying to spend all the time I coul
d with him. But if I left, it was like everything was normal and I knew I’d get to see him when I came home for visits and help him when he got to college. When your brother tells you to leave so he doesn’t feel like he’s going to die, you leave, Cassie. Even when you feel your time with him is limited.”

  Her hand went to her chest. “I didn’t know.”

  I resisted the urge to stand and pace as I remembered the day Jase and I were at this exact same table, having this discussion.

  “I fought him on it, but at the end of the day, I was staying because I didn’t know how much time I’d get with him. But he was miserable, watching us all walk on eggshells, putting him in this protective bubble, scared for him to even move a muscle. What kind of life was that? I guess in a messed up way, I figured if I left maybe he’d cheer up and know that I believed he was going to live this long life. I told myself he would.” I shook my head, my teeth grinding together as I did. “I convinced myself it was the right thing to do.”

  “But I don’t understand why your parents wouldn’t understand that.” Pain smeared across her innocent face.

  I scoffed. “I never told them. The only ones who knew were Jase, then Moose, and now you. They’d have been mad at him for pushing me. I didn’t want their fangs in him. He had enough to deal with. I took the heat for it. And now—well, now my parents still act like I’m the worst son in the world and pin their guilt on me. Whatever, if it makes them feel better. I tried so many damn times to help, to do what I could. They don’t want it, and they don’t like it when I come up.”

  “Why do you come up, then?” she asked bluntly.

  I popped a grape in my mouth. “I made a promise to Jase that I’d try and work on things with Mom and Dad. And—” I paused and smiled at her. “I kinda like spending time with you.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You mean stalking me?”

  I chuckled. “My bad. I meant to say stalking.”

  Her smile suddenly turned into a frown. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  “It is what it is, Sweet Tea. Parents aren’t perfect.”