Promise of a New Beginning (Sweet with Heat: Weston Bradens Book 5)

by Addison Cole

  “Yes. Please come by,” she said. “Do you have your bag, or do you need to go back home first?”

  He smiled, knowing he’d been presumptuous when he’d packed his leather backpack before leaving home. “What do you think?”

  “That’s what I’d hoped.”

  JACK HEARD SIENA’S excited squeal from behind the closed door. The door swung open, and he didn’t have time to say hello before she had her arms wrapped around his neck. Siena was Savannah’s height and pencil thin, but when she plowed into him unexpectedly and lifted her feet off the ground, Jack had to take a step backward to keep from tumbling over.

  “You’re here! You’re really, really here. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Jack embraced her with a laugh. He’d forgotten how enthusiastic she was. “Hi, honey. I’ve missed you, too.”

  She dropped back down to her feet and flipped her long dark hair out of her face with a quick snap of her chin. “Jack, you look great. Come on in.” She took his hand and led him into her expansive loft. The track lighting on the high ceilings reflected off of the pristine light wood floors. Siena had never liked curtains, and Jack could see that nothing had changed. The four enormous windows set in the brick walls on either side of the loft were bare. Jack scanned the room for his brothers and spotted them behind the bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the living room. He swallowed the pang of worry that would normally cause him to dip into his anger reserves and hide behind them. He wasn’t going there again. And certainly not now. He rubbed a knot that had formed at the base of his neck and followed Siena to the kitchen.

  “Look who’s here.” She flashed her bright white smile over her shoulder at Jack and waved her hands like she was presenting a gift.

  Dex and Kurt came out of the kitchen with bottles of beer in their hands and wide smiles. Sage followed with a brooding stare and a bottle of beer in each hand.

  “Dude.” Dex embraced Jack. Even as a toddler he’d had a deep voice, and it had only gotten deeper. At six two, he was just a few inches shorter than Jack. His muscles strained beneath his tight gamer T-shirt. He and Siena were fraternal twins, and while Siena’s hair was shiny and straight, Dex’s was coarse and wavy and a shade or two darker. He wore it long, just touching his collar, and when he brushed the fringe from his forehead, he revealed eyes as dark blue as Jack’s. “How long are you back for?”

  “For good, pretty much,” Jack answered.

  “Righteous. It’s about time.” Dex took a swig of his beer. “Don’t let me forget to tell you about this rad new game I developed.”

  Right after graduating from college with a degree in computer science and a minor in mathematics, Dex had created a video game that went viral. Now a millionaire and having developed several games since, he lived the life that many young people dreamed of. Jack, however, felt a world apart from the gaming community and its lingo, but he adored his brother and was happy that he’d found success doing something he loved.

  “I can’t wait to hear about it.” Jack’s heart raced with the warm welcome from Dex. Kurt had always been more reserved than the rest of his siblings, and now he stood with his beer in one hand and his other hand in his pocket. He smiled at Jack and took a slow drink of his beer.

  “How’s it going, Jack?” Kurt had written a number of bestsellers, and although he was very well off and fans knew him by sight, people seeing him on the street would never be able to tell that he was someone notable. Kurt was six three with electric blue eyes, short dark hair, and chiseled features, and tonight he looked comfortably casual in his khaki pants and polo shirt.

  “Better. Much better. How’s your writing?” Jack wondered if Kurt was as nervous as he was. Where Jack wore his emotions on his sleeve, Kurt kept his close to his chest.

  Kurt lifted his bottle. “Good. You know, bringing life to the voices in my head.” He grinned.

  Jack took a step forward and opened his arms. Kurt stepped in, patting Jack on the back. “Good to see you, Kurt.”

  “You too, bro. You too.” As they drew apart, Kurt touched Jack’s arm. “Are you doing okay? I mean, really okay?”

  Jack took a deep breath. “Yeah. For the first time in what seems like forever, I really am. I wanted to get from here…” He fanned the space in front of him. “To there.” He looked around the room at his siblings. “But I couldn’t figure out how. Are you pissed at me?”

  “Pissed?” Kurt opened his eyes a little wider. “Do I ever get pissed at anything?”

  Jack laughed. Kurt had always been the most evenly keeled of his siblings.

  “You didn’t abandon us, Jack. You just couldn’t take it. I get it. Besides, it made great fodder for my upcoming novel, Bonds of Steel.”

  “Bonds of Steel? Really? Sounds like a bad bondage porno.” Jack glanced at Sage, his most complex brother. Sage was the epitome of an artist, from his contemplative eyes that were so dark blue they appeared almost black, to his wavy dark hair that usually hung in front of his eyes and always looked windblown. Tattoos climbed his arms, and one could never tell if his brooding stare was meditative, calculating, or ruminating. When he was young, Jack worried that he lived in a constant state of unhappiness, but as he aged and began to share his thoughts, Jack realized that he simply saw life in a completely different way than Jack ever had. To Sage, everything in life, whether it was living or inanimate, held some deeper meaning than what met the eye.

  “I hear you had a gallery opening in Washington,” Jack said as he approached Sage. He and Sage had spent many hours together out in the woods around their parents’ house. Sage liked to hike and chill, while Jack was always looking for an adventure. They’d made a great exploration team with Jack pointing out the larger discoveries like animal tracks and paths made by other hikers and Sage teaching Jack to appreciate the sound of the creek or the flight patterns of the hawks. Jack wondered if at twenty-eight Sage still found beauty in all things living, or if life had kicked his butt. He hoped for the former.

  Sage nodded. “Good to see you, too, Jack.” He handed him a beer, and when Jack took it, Sage pulled him into a hug and held him longer than the others had. “What took you so long?”

  “Lost my compass.”

  “You should have called me. I would have brought you one.” Sage embraced him again. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Jack’s heart was so full, he felt as if his chest might explode. Could he possibly get this lucky? He’d been so worried about finding his way back and being turned away. Could it really be this easy?

  Siena sailed out of the kitchen with a tray of cheese, crackers, and fruit in her hands and an unopened bottle of wine under her arm. Jack took the tray and set it on the long barn wood table. The loft was spacious and bright, with one bar separating the kitchen and just beyond and down a short hallway, a comfortable master bedroom and bathroom. Siena had been modeling for years, and while she’d graduated with a degree in biology, they all knew that was just to appease their father. Every woman needs a career to fall back on. Siena was one of the most sought after models in New York, and as Jack watched her teasing their brothers and gracefully moving from the kitchen to the table as she set out plates and silverware, he could see why. She had a natural beauty that radiated through to her eyes. A sparkle that most women didn’t possess—although he’d seen the same beauty in Savannah, who he wished was by his side at that very moment.

  “Mom and Dad are on their way,” Siena said. “They had to stop and pick something up.”

  “What can I do to help, sis?” Dex asked. “Napkins? Condiments?”

  “I’ll open the wine,” Kurt offered. “Although we all have beer. Do we need the wine?”

  “Mom and Dad prefer it,” Siena answered.

  “Right, of course.” Kurt retrieved the corkscrew.

  Sage sidled up to Jack. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

  Jack lifted the right side of his mouth in a half smile. “Who knows, but I want to be.” He felt Sage’s han
d on his back.

  “I envied you, you know. As much as I hated not seeing you, I was envious of all that time alone, just you and nature. Man, what I wouldn’t give to escape the rat race for a while.”

  His voice was so serious that Jack had to turn and look at him. “You okay, Sage?” He searched his eyes for hidden trouble, but they hadn’t changed. They held the same unreadable look as they always had.

  “Yeah. Sure. Anyway, I’m glad you’re back. We’ve all missed you.”

  Jack leaned in close and said, “Not all of you.”

  “Right. Well, you know Rush can be a bonehead. Give him time. He’s just pissed that you took off. He’ll get over it.” Sage patted him on the back and went to answer a knock at the door.

  It can’t be this easy. Jack watched his siblings talking and joking with one another as if one of the biggest defining moments of his life hadn’t just taken place. Was it even possible that his siblings could accept him back that easily without any angst over his not keeping in touch? Could Savannah have been right about family ties?

  “Jackson.”

  His father’s serious tone sent a jab of reality to his gut. There wasn’t the slightest chance this was going to be an easy night. What was I thinking? He turned to meet his father’s somber stare. His military-style haircut was now more gray than brown, though his thick, furrowed brows were still dark as ever. The skin on James Remington’s once chiseled features now hung a little looser from his cheekbones and jowls, but his imposing nature was just as strong as it had always been. Jack looked into the midnight-blue eyes—which were so much like his own—of the man who was his mentor, his hero, and his harshest critic. He pulled his shoulders back, knowing that even though he was younger and stronger, he couldn’t quite pull off the same commanding dignity that his four-star-general father always had.

  “Dad. Mom.” Jack had the urge to run into his mother’s arms, as he had when he was a boy. He wanted to settle into the comfort and surety of her unconditional love and forget so much time had passed. But that wasn’t an option. Instead, he took in his mother’s beauty, his heart warming as she crossed the floor toward him.

  Joanie Remington was the polar opposite of Jack’s father. She dressed in loose bohemian clothing and wore her gray hair long, while James looked as though he’d walked out of a military photo shoot: pristine navy jacket with perfectly pressed slacks and white dress shirt. Joanie opened her arms and embraced him.

  She touched his cheek and looked up at him with the same bright blue eyes that she’d passed down to Kurt and Rush, and the love he saw pulled at his heart.

  “Jackie, I’m so glad to see you,” she said.

  She was nearly the same height as Siena—and Savannah, Jack realized. Her hand on his cheek reminded him of the endearing way Savannah had touched him earlier that morning. He’d turned his mom away so often, and once he moved to the cabin, he didn’t even have a phone line. He’d kept his cell phone but never left it on. When messages rolled in, he ignored them. Things between him and his father had gotten so tense after Linda’s death that it had been easier to block his mother out of his life, too, than to try and volley between the two. He realized now how much that must have hurt his family, especially his mother, who had been nothing but supportive his whole life.

  “Me too, Mom. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come around.” He kissed his mother’s cheek and tried to suppress the tears that welled in his eyes. He blinked until his eyes dried, then shifted his gaze back to his father. Sage remained by the open door, and Jack had a fleeting thought that maybe he should just walk out that door. Escape his father’s torment. There is no escape. I deserve whatever he doles out.

  “Dad.” He felt like he was sixteen years old again, telling his father that he wasn’t going to join the military right after high school—and he wasn’t sure if he ever would. His heart had hammered in his chest then just as it did now.

  “Son.” He shot a look at Joanie, who lifted her brows and her chin in the silent urge Jack had come to know as a child. His father had ruled their house with an iron fist. No one dared go up against him, but every so often, his mother would take a quiet, though meaningful and determined stance, and in those times, Joanie headed the charge. There was no mistake in Jack’s mind that his father had a diatribe ready to push his disgruntled agenda—or that his mother would not allow that to happen.

  His father continued. “You look good, Jack. Different.”

  “I am,” was all he could manage.

  Sage shot a look at Jack. His eyes widened, and in that flash, Jack knew that Sage had seen something unnerving. A second later, Rush walked through the door with the same stern look as his father and took his place beside him.

  Jack clenched his jaw, wondering why his brothers and sister hadn’t warned him that Rush would be there after all. He felt Siena’s gentle touch on his shoulder, her breath in his ear.

  “They didn’t tell me,” she said; then she crossed the tense space between the three men and embraced her father. “Hi, Daddy.” She hugged Rush, though it was more of a fast grab than a hug.

  “Sweetheart, thank you for having us all here today,” his mother said, as Siena kissed her cheek and took her place beside her. Jack knew that by standing on the side of the room with him, they were supporting him, too.

  The lines drawn in the Remington family weren’t like other families, where lines were faded and the families were unsure if they were imagined or really existed. James Remington made no bones about the lines he’d drawn through the years. He expected high achievements and ethical conduct—and military careers. As the eldest, Jack had forged the path for the others to follow. When he’d chosen not to attend West Point, his father had been livid, but after a few tough months, their relationship survived, and Jack assumed it was yet another one of his mother’s determined battles that had kept him from having the same struggle with each of his other kids.

  The decision to join the military had less to do with his father than with something inside Jack—a need to do more for his country than engineering—and it had pleased his father, which was why Jack was so confused now. He didn’t understand why his father had been so angry with him when he moved to the mountains. He thought, of all people, his father would understand, but, then, he hadn’t been thinking straight at that time. His father probably felt that Jack had shamed him on some level, embarrassed the family.

  “Isn’t it wonderful that Jack’s really coming back to New York?” Siena’s cheerful voice reverberated against the tension in the room like she’d thrown it at a brick wall. “Daddy, would you like some wine?”

  “Yes, please, honey. Thank you.”

  Always the gentleman. During his formative years, Jack had tried to emulate his father with his gruff nature and arrogance, but by the time he hit puberty, he’d seen his harsh exterior as unattractive, and he’d done everything he could to avoid becoming the same man. As he looked at his brother and father, two strong-willed opponents, he realized that he was more like his father than he cared to admit. The last two years, he’d hidden behind the stone wall he’d learned from James Remington. Now Jack took a deep breath and did the only thing he could under the circumstances. He opened his arms as the man he hoped to be and embraced first his father, who stood rigid against him, then Rush, whose muscles were so tense they jumped against Jack’s chest.

  “Good to see you both,” Jack said. It had been a long time since Jack was the one reaching out. Heck, it seemed like forever since he’d been palatable on any level.

  Sage answered another knock at the door, and they turned their attention to the deliveryman as he handed several bags of food to Sage.

  “I’ve got this,” Dex said. He pulled out his wallet and paid for the food, then helped Sage carry the bags to the table.

  “This looks great, Siena,” Kurt said as he lifted several cartons of Italian food from one of the bags.

  His mother put her hand on the small of Jack’s back. “Jack,
Rush, why don’t you join us at the table.”

  Jack noticed that she hadn’t invited his father, and while he was thankful for the support, he was sick of the ominous stares and the lines that determined sides within their family. Lines caused pain, and Jack had experienced enough pain for one lifetime.

  “Thanks, Mom. I’ll join you in a moment,” Jack said.

  Rush’s face flushed. His eyes darted between Jack and their father. “Dad?”

  Jack watched the exchange and wondered why his thirty-two-year-old brother was asking for his father’s permission to sit at the dinner table.

  His father narrowed his eyes at Jack and said, “Go on, son,” to Rush.

  While the rest of the family dished food onto their plates and talked among themselves, Jack and his father had a silent battle of wills. Jack gathered his courage like a shield before speaking.

  “Want to take this up to the roof?” Siena’s loft was on the top floor of her building, and she had access to a narrow set of stairs that led to a sitting area and garden on the roof of the building. The idea of having it out with his father in front of everyone else twisted his gut and made every nerve in his body burn, but if he’d have it no other way, Jack was determined not to walk away without a resolution.

  His father nodded, and Jack led the way.

  “James,” his mother called.

  They both turned toward her.

  “Why don’t you take Rush with you?” she suggested.

  As Rush rose to join them, all eyes shifted to Jack.

  Jack wondered why his mother was putting him up against the firing squad.