by Lex Martin
There’s some shuffling of feet, and I’m guessing Logan just hightailed it outta here.
“Hey.”
I look up and find Tori standing next to me. She slides into my lap and presses her face into my neck. I pull her legs up over mine, wrap my arms around her and stick my nose into her hair.
How did she know I needed this?
“We’ll figure this out, okay?” Her soft words settle over me and soothe all the anxiety riffling through my nerves. She might be younger, but I swear she’s an old soul. “I’m here as long as you need me.”
Always. I’ll always need you.
I’m shocked at how fiercely that sentiment resonates in me, all the way down to my work boots. Have I ever felt this way about another woman? Never. Not even Allison.
Part of me is shouting this is insane, to fall for this girl when I’m barely out of my marriage.
While I can list a million reasons why Tori and I work as a couple, none of them negate the issues my brother brought up or the fact that I can’t afford to keep her on staff come this fall.
Squeezing her tight, I decide I need to find a way to make this happen. She’s too important to let go. I’ve lived with enough regrets in my life. Tori won’t be one of them.
Tori
Totally unfair.
My sister is so pregnant, she can barely dress herself, but she’s never been more beautiful. I’d look like a constipated hippo if I were that pregnant.
I sit on one end of the couch in her living room and pat my lap. “Come on. Kick up those hobbit feet so we can do this pedicure.”
“Don’t call them hobbit feet, brat.”
I snicker and help her shift her legs up one at a time. “Just giving you a hard time. You’re gorgeous, preggers.”
Since Ethan needed me to work this afternoon, I spent last night with my sister, forgoing my Friday night TV routine of baseball and ice cream with my sexy BB—boss and boyfriend—and I’m hoping to pamper Kat before I head back to the ranch in a bit.
Izzy skips through the room with her dad trailing behind. She sees me break out the nail polish, and she pouts.
“Tori, will you do my nails later? Pretty, pretty please?” She presses her hands together like a little beggar.
“I’m not going to be here when you get back, but maybe I can sneak over in a few days to do them.”
Jutting out her lower lip, she frowns. Ugh. How can I say no to that face?
Brady shakes his head. “Don’t give your aunt a guilt trip, kid. I’ll do your nails later if you want.”
“Really?” She grins up at him like he just bought her a pony, but then she quirks a saucy eyebrow like my sister. “Can I do your nails too?”
He lets out a comical sigh. “Sure, but I get to pick the color this time. No pink.” He turns to us. “This child’s obsessed with pink. Pretty sure she’d spray paint her room the color of Pepto-Bismol if we let her.”
My brother-in-law is awesome. I love that he lets Izzy paint his nails.
With his keys in hand, Brady leans over and kisses my sister, and she lets out a swoony sigh that would make Scarlett O’Hara proud. Oh, man. Do I look like her when Ethan’s around? No wonder Logan makes gagging sounds.
Ethan and I have kept everything under wraps around the kids since we thought Mila needed time to process the divorce. No need to push our relationship in her face or upset Allison while Ethan still has his finances all wrapped up in hers. Rocking that boat seems stupid, like kicking a hornet’s nest.
So when Ethan’s alarm goes off at three or four in the morning—yes, he gets up at an insane hour—I sneak back to my bedroom. It’s not a perfect situation, but at least I’m just trudging down the hall and not having to trek back to Austin.
I’ve been thinking long and hard about the concerns Logan brought up the other day. Their mom is returning. Mila’s starting school. I don’t have to be a genius to know they won’t need my help anymore. It’s not as if there are an abundance of well-paying jobs out here in the sticks, and I have a ton of bills. School loans for a degree I didn’t get. Bills from frivolous crap in college I couldn’t afford. Some insufferably bad decisions. Too many mistakes to list, really.
It’s easy to forget those mistakes when I’m at Ethan’s. Pretend I’ve got my shit together. Pretend I’m the upstanding adult my sister seems to think I am despite the facts.
Brady breaks into my pity party. “Watch out for my girl while I’m gone.”
“Of course. Good seeing you.”
“You too, squirt.” He leans down to give me a hug, making sure to mess up my hair when he lets go. I’ve always wanted a big brother, and when Brady married my sister, I definitely got one.
Especially when he nears the door and turns back at the last minute to say, “Tell Ethan I said hi,” in a saccharine-sweet, sing-songy voice.
Jerking her dad to a stop, Izzy tells me, “Have fun kissing!” And she smacks her lips together to make smooching sounds.
Brady, Kat, and I look at each other, frozen, and Izzy shrugs. “What? Mr. Ethan’s cute!”
I hold up my hand, and she runs over to high-five me. With a pained groan, Brady clutches his chest.
“That’s what you guys get for talking about this!” I quip with an evil laugh. “As you often like to remind me, kids have big ears.”
“She’s seven. She’s not supposed to think boys are cute yet.” Brady turns his daughter toward him and musters the biggest frown I’ve ever seen. “Child, I want to remind you that there is to be no kissing until you’re thirty. Maybe forty.”
“Awww, Dad!”
Izzy is just as boy-crazy as I was at that age. Lord help Kat and Brady.
I’m still snickering when my sister wiggles as much as her giant belly lets her and claps her hands. “I can’t wait anymore. Let’s talk about Ethan! I want all the details!”
“That’s my cue to leave,” Brady says, taking his daughter’s hand and heading out the door.
He can act disinterested, but I know for a fact Kat tells him everything. They’re the worst matchmakers I know.
I can’t feel embarrassed. Why bother? They’ve seen me at my lowest. Dating Ethan is awesome, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise.
I already told Kat about the night we spent in his truck and that there was plenty brewing between us, but I haven’t told her about the recent developments and the spider from hell that dropped down onto my unsuspecting naked ass.
So I fill her in on some of the juicy details. Nothing too graphic. Don’t want to upset her delicate sensibilities.
When I’m done, she smacks me in the shoulder. “How could you not call me immediately and give me the scoop?”
It crossed my mind, but I wasn’t ready to share it with anyone. “I guess I wanted to see how things went. If he really meant what he said about us being official.”
A teeny part of me was afraid he’d wake up the next day and regret it. Or that he’d want to backtrack. Reel things in before they got too serious.
Typical man reasons.
Not that he’s given me reasons to doubt him, but I worried the stress of his pending court date would affect how he’d view us. Like maybe he’d see me as another kind of pressure.
She nods knowingly and grabs my hand. “You’ve dated some huge jerks, but Ethan is the real deal. When he says something, he means it.” With a sniffle, she pulls me into a hug. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there that day.”
I laugh and hug her back. “That’s okay. I’m pretty sure I prefer Ethan saving me from that shower spider than you, no offense.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Oh. She means the first time I had a run-in with spiders.
Lamely, I pat her shoulder. “Wasn’t your fault you couldn’t be there.”
“I hate that I missed out so much when you were little. I never thought much about it until recently, but it had to suck to not have Mom and Dad around like I did. And then Abuelita died, and I know she meant the wor
ld to you.”
At the mention of my grandmother, I tear up and decide we cannot continue talking about this. There’s no need to make her feel worse when she was a kid herself at the time. “Don’t beat yourself up, hermana. You’re already my hero.” Truly, she’s everything I want to be when I grow up some day.
Wanting to change the subject, I blurt out something that’s been on my mind before we both need therapy for our childhood.
“Can we get back to Ethan?” I can’t believe I haven’t asked her this before. “What was he like with his wife? Did you know Allison?”
She sits back and hums thoughtfully. “Not well. They came over a couple of times when we had our farmers’ fair, but she was always distant. Even with him. Definitely with the children. She never struck me as being particularly maternal. Not that someone can’t grow into the role of being a mom, but she always looked so irritated. Made me sad for Ethan and the kids. But when we’d invite them for dinner, he came by himself. And you could see he was trying to make her happy, but nothing seemed to please that woman.”
Twin vines of relief and jealousy sprout in me. Not that I wish Ethan or his children any pain, but it’s hard to think of him with his wife. Though it’s silly of me to want any of his firsts. He married her first. Had kids with her first. Lived his life with her first. Loved her first. My heart wallows in that thought.
If there’s any silver lining, it’s that they didn’t complement each other well. “So you weren’t surprised they were getting a divorce?”
“No way. I thought the writing was on the wall long before he told us she left him.”
Wait. What?
Hold up. Hold the fuck up.
She left him?
Why was I thinking he had filed for divorce? Especially after how she treated him?
“Are you sure? She left him?”
“Oh, yeah. He tried to get her to reconsider for months. Maybe that’s why it took so long to finalize the divorce.”
That shouldn’t change anything. Shouldn’t make me question what Ethan and I have developed, but my delicate heart doesn’t like this revelation one bit.
My sister must see the apprehension in my eyes because she shakes her head. “Do not freak out about Allison. She’s history, but since you asked, I wanted you to know that Ethan is the kind of guy who isn’t going to jerk you around. Look at how hard he tried to make his horrible marriage work.”
Okay, she makes a good point.
But something about the morning Allison found us in the truck niggles in the back of my mind.
For a woman who seemed apathetic during her marriage, she sure lost her shit to see her ex had moved on.
And that has me worried.
My sister conks out on the couch in a puddle of drool as soon as I’m done with her pedicure, but I don’t want to leave before she wakes up, so I cover her with a light blanket, do a load of her laundry, and fold a million adorable green and yellow infant outfits. She’s such a wench to make me wait to find out the sex of her baby!
I’m still folding clothes when two fuzzy arms wrap around my legs, and I whirl around with a muffled scream.
“Bandit, you scared the shit out of me!” I whisper-yell.
My sister’s pet raccoon holds up his little arms like a toddler even though he’s ancient in raccoon years.
“You are so spoiled.” I pick him up, settle in the rocking chair, and pat his fat butt while he snuggles against me. “Have you been a good boy? Hmm? I don’t think you’ll be allowed in the nursery once the baby arrives.”
Sighing, I mull over everything my sister told me this morning about Allison even though I know I should put it out of my mind. But how can I? I want to analyze it from every angle so I know what I’m getting myself into. Though it’s not like I can backpedal. I’m already in too deep, which is all the more reason to guard myself against that woman. How could Allison leave Ethan and those two precious children? I want to throttle her on their behalf.
Kat waddles into the doorway and smiles sleepily. “Sorry I passed out, manita.”
“No worries. You’re gestating. You need rest.”
“Want some lunch? I’m starving.”
I don’t point out that we ate not two hours ago. “No, I should probably get going soon, but I’ll be back tomorrow so we can shop for the nursery. Want me to make you a sandwich before I go?”
A huge smile lights her face. “You’re my favorite sister.”
“I’m your only sister,” I say, smiling at our familiar lines.
One second she’s laughing and then she’s hunched over in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I shoo Bandit off me and fly across the room.
“Just Braxton Hicks contractions. Nothing to worry about.”
I lead her over to the rocking chair and help her sit. “What can I get you? Some water? A heating pad? Should I call Brady?” Like a splash of cold water in my face, I feel like an idiot for not knowing more about her pregnancy. For not having researched all the potential problems or complications. She asked me to be close this summer for the baby, and all this time I’ve been obsessing over my own love life.
With a grimace, she waves me off. “No, no. Don’t bother him. He hasn’t seen his parents all week. Let them have their time.”
My sister is the most selfless person I know. If she could have this baby in her bathroom without putting anyone out, she would. I’ll text Brady just in case. He’d want me to. I also make a mental note to read up on the ins and outs of what my sister can expect during the last few weeks of her pregnancy.
I stay with her for a bit, rubbing her back to make sure she’s comfortable.
“Hey, speaking of parents, have you heard from ours?” I ask, because I haven’t in ages. I’d wanted to ask earlier today but since we got emotional, I figured I should table the topic.
“I swear they call me every other day. They’re so excited about this child.” She laughs and rubs her belly that undulates under her floral muumuu. “Oh! The baby is moving. Feel it.” Grabbing my hand, she places it on her tummy, and I smile even though I’m still bummed out about our parents.
Sure, at the beginning of the summer, I was reluctant to talk to them because I was afraid I’d get the usual lecture about not screwing up a new job, but when they never called, I can’t deny I was disappointed.
Deep down, I get this is all residual psychological bullshit from my childhood. My parents took Kat—not me—and left South Texas for months at a time while they did their best to get whatever migrant farm jobs they could. It may be irrational, but every now and again I feel like the kid they forgot about. Granted, they eventually found permanent jobs in Corpus, and we were able to settle down, but that doesn’t erase those early memories.
When Mila cries on my shoulder at night, telling me she misses her mom, I get it. I so get it.
“They never call me,” I tell my sister, feeling like an ass for bringing it up. I’m so bad at adulting. Sometimes life is like riding a bike with two shaky wheels that eventually fall off. It’s only a matter of when. Because if the past is any indication, my wheels always fall off.
“Seriously?” She frowns.
“Nope. Not since I moved to the ranch.”
“That’s weird. Are you sure?”
“Why would I lie?” I bite my nail, feeling like a petulant kid for not letting this go. “I think they’re still mad.”
“They’re not still mad.” She tilts her head like she’s reconsidering it. “Well, they can’t be that mad.”
I give her a look, the one that says, Come on. “It’s bad enough that they were so embarrassed by me growing up that they told everyone I had gotten a scholarship to St. Mary’s when we all know I could never swing those kind of grades.”
“You didn’t get a scholarship?” Her look of confusion is almost funny.
“You know I sucked at school. Do you really think I had the scores for a scholarship? It was need-based. Not for smarts. You got all those genes, br
ainiac.”
She scoffs, insisting I’m smart, but she has to say that. She’s a consoler. She wants to make me feel better. I finish biting my thumbnail.
When she’s done insisting I’m not a tontita, a stupid girl, I continue. “When I failed out of UT, Dad was livid, reminding me of all the sacrifices they made for me. How I was ungrateful. How all I did was get in trouble. How they should’ve sent you the little bit of money they had and not me.”
She gasps and covers her mouth. “They did not say that!”
“Swear to God they did. Ask them.”
“Oh, Tor.” Big tears well in her eyes. No, don’t cry. “They were just mad. I know they love you so much, and you mean the world to me.”
Those tears hurdle over her lids and careen down her cheeks, and I sniffle, feeling like I want to sob right along with her.
“Love you too, Kitty Kat.”
We hug, and she pats my head like she did when we were young and she’d pretend I was her life-sized doll.
“If it makes you feel any better, Tori, I’m proud of you. So proud of you. Of the way you regrouped after that jerk broke your heart last year. For the way you’ve worked your butt off on the ranch this summer. Babysitting kids is hard work, and not only do you do a great job taking care of them, those children adore you. And with the divorce, that’s even more important.”
Her baby kicks us both, and we jerk apart, laughing.
“I think that’s my hint that I should get going before we start crying again.” I motion toward the door. “But you’re going to let me plan your baby shower, right?” It’s getting late in the game, but my family is strangely superstitious and doesn’t want to jinx anything. I’m sure my mother has nearly burned down the church lighting candles for this child.
Kat fidgets, tugging on her top. “Um…”
“What do you mean, um? Didn’t I do a great job with your bachelorette party?” I rocked that shit like a badass.
She rolls her eyes. “I think my in-laws are still traumatized by those presents.”
