A Sweetbrook Family (You, Me & the Kids)

by DeStefano, Anna

  “Thank you.” He stood, reaching for her arm. She skittered away, smoothing wrinkles from the casual top she wore over a faded pair of jeans, both of which looked oddly familiar.

  “This way,” he said, grateful beyond words. Regretting everything this was costing her, he longed to draw her close until all the pain went away. Not that she’d be the least bit interested.

  But somehow, he’d make this up to her. If she could find some way to help Daniel back from whatever awful place he’d slipped into, Josh would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

  * * *

  AMY PAUSED OUTSIDE the scared ten-year-old’s bedroom, terrified of what she was about to do. But from the first moment she’d heard about Daniel’s tragic loss, she hadn’t been able to walk away. She’d eavesdropped. She’d climbed into the kid’s tree house. And now she was jumping into the middle of his troubles with both feet.

  “Are you okay?” Josh asked at her elbow.

  She nodded, his worry touching her with an eerie kind of understanding. He knew she wasn’t okay, yet he trusted her with his nephew, anyway. Did he have any idea what that did to her? How just his presence tempted her to want even more? Another taste of his promise from so long ago to make her happy?

  “Daniel?” She knocked on the partially open door. “Can I come in?”

  When no sound came from inside, Josh nudged the door open.

  It was a bit of a shock at first, seeing such a disorderly mess in the midst of the immaculate White mansion. Clothes and toys lay in jumbled heaps all over the room. It looked as if Daniel knew exactly how to get under his neat-freak uncle’s skin.

  “Stay here,” she said to Josh as she stepped toward the walk-in closet, her heart already breaking for the defiant little boy hiding somewhere inside.

  “Daniel?” She knocked on the closet’s doorframe. “Anybody home?”

  She zeroed in on a pair of filthy sneakers peeking from beneath the low row of pants hanging against the far wall. She settled on the floor a few inches away and drew her knees to her chest.

  “You know, if I had a closet like this, I think I might hide out in it, too.” The custom-shelved, recessed-lit cubby was half the size of her new bedroom in Atlanta.

  The shoes slid farther behind the pants.

  “Your uncle’s pretty freaked, you know.” Might as well give it her best shot, even if she was talking to herself. “About your father showing up in Sweetbrook, I mean. And he’s worried about you sitting in here all alone.”

  The pants rustled, one of them falling to reveal half a tear-streaked face. Their eyes connected, then Daniel’s ricocheted away. At least he hadn’t run from her yet.

  He wiped his face with the back of a hand.

  “I know you’re worried, too.” She forged ahead. “I don’t guess you’re ready to talk about it or anything?”

  His gaze collided with hers again, the silent fear there calling to every weak thing inside Amy that understood exactly what he was going through.

  “You should have been there today when your dad showed up at the school,” she offered, switching topics for both their sakes. “Your uncle Josh was so angry, I think he was about to knock the man senseless.”

  The gap in the row of pants widened. Green eyes glared in suspicion.

  “No, really.” She nodded her head, keeping the one-sided conversation upbeat, because she wasn’t sure who would be the first to cry if things took another turn toward serious. “I’ve known your uncle for a long time, and I can’t ever remember seeing him that angry. He got in your father’s face, and he made sure the man understood that no one was taking you anywhere without going through your uncle first.”

  The way Josh had put himself on the line for his nephew had been amazing, no matter how much it had rattled Amy to witness the scene.

  “You know what I think?” She paused, letting the seconds tick by, waiting for his reaction.

  “What?” a gravelly voice finally asked.

  “I think you’re lucky to have someone like your uncle Josh looking out for you. So you don’t have to hide in closets like this forever.”

  The thought of Daniel as a younger child hiding while his parents fought, maybe even to protect himself from his father, ended Amy’s battle with her own emotions. Two tears escaped the corners of her eyes.

  Daniel was picking at his left shoe now instead of looking at her, as if he was trying to pry through the canvas to get to his toes.

  “So what about Becky?” he finally asked, the words coming out clearer this time.

  The abrupt shift in topic caught Amy off guard.

  “Is that what you’re doing for Becky?” He looked up then. “You know, keeping her away from—” he shrugged “—you know.”

  “Yeah.” Amy breathed through the lump clogging her throat. “I guess that’s kinda what I’m doing. It’s not exactly the same thing with Becky, but you guys are probably feeling a lot of the same stuff right now.”

  He snickered, the half smile on his face transforming him into one of the cutest kids she’d ever seen. He was going to be a heartbreaker when he grew up, just like his uncle.

  “You know, Becky’s pretty mad at you,” he said, bestowing on her his ten-year-old wisdom.

  “Yeah, kinda like you are at your uncle Josh.”

  “Yeah.” Uncertainty flooded his expressive features. “I don’t mean to be. But sometimes…I can’t help it.”

  “That’s okay.” She stretched her legs out and leaned against the bureau drawers behind her, letting the conversation flow. Thankful that Daniel was no longer cowering in the darkness alone. “Sometimes losing your cool is all you can do. Especially when no one understands.”

  She felt him studying her, and hoped she hadn’t gone too far. Where was the kid’s social worker? His therapist?

  “Yeah,” he finally agreed, his voice stronger but still shaking. “It sucks not to fit in anywhere.”

  Amy glanced around at the piles of comics scattered about them. Cartoons full of misunderstood mutants and the superheroes many of them became. This brave kid had forever secured a spot in her superhero hall of fame.

  She noticed photo albums scattered among the clutter around them, and opened one.

  “These are of your mom and uncle,” she exclaimed. “Look! Here’s one of me, one of the times I came over for dinner. I always had the best time here. It was so different from my house, so much nicer.”

  Daniel looked downright shocked at the idea of anyone finding the White mansion nice.

  She kept flipping through the album, letting the silence between them stretch.

  “So my uncle told off my dad, huh?” he finally asked, his little-boy voice almost back to normal. “I didn’t think Uncle Josh knew how to get angry.”

  “I didn’t, either,” she agreed, turning to another page of pictures from a simpler time. “But I’m guessing he’d do just about anything for you.”

  The flash of envy she suddenly felt brought her head up, and she flipped the book closed. She had no business wishing she had someone looking out for her the way Josh did for Daniel. There was no place in her world for that kind of attention. Hadn’t she told Josh as much at the school today?

  “Whatever happens next,” she said, leaning forward, “you have to know you can trust your uncle Josh. He’ll be there for you.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Daniel gave a disinterested shrug, but the fear in his features eased a bit.

  Amy want
ed to whoop in victory. She settled for sending the boy a conspiring wink. “You know what’s better than losing your cool sometimes?” she asked, refocusing on her task of getting Daniel out of this closet.

  “What?”

  “Eating a huge piece of chocolate cake way past dinnertime.” She gestured toward the closet door with her head. “Becky’s out there downing a piece or two, if I don’t miss my guess. Are you going to let her polish it off all by herself?”

  She’d startled him again, she could tell. He eyed her warily, as if expecting her to turn into a normal adult at any minute, and not wanting to miss the transformation. Then he scrambled to his feet, and with that odd look kids saved for wacky grown-ups they didn’t understand, he tore out of the closet, nearly barreling into his uncle for the second time in two days.

  Josh stepped into the closet and grinned when he found Amy still stretched out on the floor.

  Did he have to look more handsome every time she saw him?

  “Comfy down there?” he asked.

  “Seems I have a knack for sending children running.” She struggled to her feet, struggled not to crave the reassurance just being close to him could mean to her again.

  Facing the world alone was something she was getting good at. Something she’d told herself she wanted. But the world was becoming tougher to handle by the hour, and being around Josh so much was making alone feel a whole lot more lonely.

  He offered her his hand, and nothing could have kept her from taking it.

  “You’re a miracle worker.” The warmth radiating from him held her captive. His expression was a study in wonder. “I’ve been trying to get Daniel out of here for an hour.”

  Josh’s clear blue eyes caressed her face. His thumb rubbed tingling circles on the palm of her hand.

  The professional school administrator and the friend from her youth were nowhere to be found at the moment. All Amy could see was the ruggedly handsome man before her. A concerned, caring man who’d do anything to help his nephew. The man she’d forced herself to turn away from hours earlier.

  What would it be like to feel those strong arms wrapped around her again?

  It would feel like a really bad idea, she warned herself.

  He fingered the billowing sleeve of the raggedy peasant blouse she hadn’t taken time to change out of before hurrying over.

  “This looks familiar,” he said.

  “It should.” She laughed, grabbing on to the distraction. “You got ink on it while we were studying for exams one year. Mother tried for days to get the spots out.”

  Josh’s eyes crinkled with the memory, then dropped to the exact location of the still-lingering stain. With a chuckle, he pressed his fingers to the mark, caressing her rib cage beneath the cloth and causing her breath to catch. When his eyes tracked back to her face, his laughter had been replaced by a heat that rivaled the branding warmth of his touch.

  “Why didn’t I notice how good you looked in this shirt when we were kids?” he asked, appearing genuinely puzzled.

  “I…I don’t think I looked this good when—” she couldn’t hold back a gasp as his fingers tangled in the hair falling across her shoulders “—when we were kids.”

  “Did you smell this good then?” He’d moved closer somehow, even though they were already standing too close because of the narrow confines of the closet. He hesitated, then the back of his hand smoothed across her cheek.

  “Josh…”

  She couldn’t believe she was tilting her head upward. Craving the touch of his mouth against hers.

  She should’ve felt crowded, trapped, as she stood there being held by such a large man in such a tiny space. But this was Josh. Her memories of the one other time he’d embraced her caused a flood of warmth mixed with confusion. Of needing more and never wanting to stop.

  And in that moment, her longing for even a speck of something that was good took over. Just for a second, she wanted to step outside her world and grab hold of something that didn’t hurt. And a part of her still believed, somewhere deep inside, that being with Joshua White could never, ever hurt.

  “Josh?” she repeated as she felt his fingers tremble.

  “Yeah?” He swallowed hard, holding back, though she could feel how much it was costing him.

  He’d apologized for the kiss they’d shared when she was engaged to Richard. And he’d been nothing but a good friend since she’d returned home, no matter how the air sparked between them whenever they were together. He’d been careful to give her the space she’d insisted she needed.

  But she didn’t want space right now. She didn’t want him to be careful.

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

  His eyes dilated, all that beautiful blue disappearing as his pupils expanded.

  “But…” His hand clenched in her hair. He hissed as if he’d been burned.

  “Please. Just one more time.” She rose on her toes, her mouth coming level with his. She was out of her mind, but that was exactly where she wanted to be right now. “Please, don’t say no, Josh. Please…”

  She’d never be sure who erased the final distance between them. She’d only remember how his kiss had consumed her.

  “Amy. You taste like heaven.”

  Her hands tangled in his hair. She wanted to anchor him to her so he’d never leave her.

  Never leave her?

  She tensed, the spell she’d fallen under fracturing as quickly as it had consumed her.

  “Amy?” He inched away, as sensitive to her withdrawal as he’d always been to everything about her. He wiped at the tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed. “Baby, please don’t cry. Are you all right?”

  “No!” she whispered, pressing her fingers to her trembling lips, because at any moment she was going to start screaming. “I’m not okay. I shouldn’t be here…kissing you, breaking my heart over your nephew, letting any of this touch me….”

  “Because of your ex-husband?” Josh let her step back, then he shifted away from the open doorway. The still-logical part of her recognized that he was being careful that she didn’t feel trapped. It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that in the last couple of days.

  “You’re afraid to let anyone close again, aren’t you?” he continued when she didn’t move. “Because of how Richard hurt you.”

  “No, because of me.” She refused to sugarcoat the truth to save face. “I’m messed up, Josh. My entire life is a mess, because of choices made with my own free will. Because I was weak. And I won’t let myself make those kinds of mistakes again.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re one of the strongest people I know. None of what’s happened is your fault, Amy.”

  “It is my fault,” she retorted, knowing her anger was far safer than the softer feelings it replaced. “You think you know me, but you don’t. I’m not strong. I’m a fraud. A weak, scared fraud who wants to run away from everything and start over. But I owe it to my daughter and myself to make our lives in Atlanta work. To do things right this time.”

  Finding that she could finally move, she stepped through the doorway. Joshua followed.

  “And right means being alone?” He raked a hand through the golden hair she’d just feathered her fingers through. Frustration created a ridge of color across his cheekbones.

  “Yes.” The word lacked conviction, but she forced herself to say it anyway. “For me it does. I won’t survive all this if I let myself be distracted from what’s real. And as
good as this feels—” she gestured between them “—it’s not real.”

  When he took her hand, she realized just how much trouble she was in. All he had to do was pull, and she’d be right back in his arms. Right back where she longed to be.

  And he thought she was strong.

  “You deserve better than being alone, Amy. You deserve to let yourself be loved.”

  His sad, gentle smile tugged at her soul, even as he released her.

  “Thank you,” she said, grateful for the distance. Regretting more than he could ever know that this was how things had to be.

  “No. Thank you.” The warmth in his voice caressed her. “For what you said to Daniel about me. If there’s any chance he can learn to trust me—”

  “He will.” She would do everything she could to make sure of it. Josh and Daniel deserved the family they were just starting to make with one another. “He’ll learn that you’re the man he can come to for answers, regardless of what happened between you and Melanie. That you’re the one who’ll help this make sense for him. Just don’t try to force him.”

  “And if I can’t get through to him in time?” Josh’s desperation to do right by his sister’s child threatened to charm Amy right back into his arms. His fear that he might fail reminded her that no matter how hard you fought, some things would forever remain beyond your control.

  “Maybe you can’t make everything right for Daniel again,” she said, smoothing her blouse and her pragmatism back into place. Life wasn’t a fairy tale, and neither one of them could afford to forget it. “In that case, you’ll have to do what I always do—bite the bullet, make your deal with the devil, then do the best you can. Sometimes surviving is the best you can hope for.”

  “Do you really believe that?” His concern for her, like his kisses, left her longing for more. “Is settling for mere survival really the way you want to live your life?”

  “Life is what it is.” She looked over his shoulder, toward where their kids were hanging out in the kitchen. Away from the temptation to want too much from a man who didn’t need her problems heaped on top of the ones already burying him alive.