Page 24 of A Little More Forgiveness

We laughed even more until Gabe finally gave up and joined in. “I feel like a small boy wearing his dad’s clothes.” He shook his head. “Ridiculous,” he said again as he held out his arms and twirled around on the spot.

“Aw, I think you look adorable,” Leo added sweetly.

“Yeah, adorable,” I deadpanned.

“Jackasses. The both of you.”

I shook my head and, leaving them to their entertainment, walked into the kitchen to make a start on breakfast. It had been so long since I’d had any type of fun, I needed a moment to get used to the uplifting feeling again.

I stumbled on one of the dogs’ discarded chews and bumped into the shelf beside me, knocking over the picture frame perched there. Any remaining humor died in an instant as I recognized the image. Reverently I picked up the photograph and stared at the scene. Me and Katie down by the lake. Me standing behind her, head on her shoulder as she took a selfie.

The memory, so vivid in my mind, instantly filled my vision. A couple of months after we’d gotten married, the weather had been hot and sunny; the soft breeze had a slight cool edge, just enough to stifle the heat. Katie had planned our day to perfection. We’d gotten up early, done our chores so we had the afternoon free to take a picnic and walk through the forest and down to the lake. We’d eaten the food she’d packed, drank more than a few glasses of wine, and enjoyed each other’s company as we’d talked about the future. When the sun had gotten too hot, we’d removed our clothes and skinny-dipped in the lake, letting the water cool our overheated skin.

Katie had taken the picture as we’d emerged from the lake, and our smiling expressions revealed everything. Our hopes and dreams, the joy of being outside on the land, and the deep love we shared, all staring right back at me from the photograph. How could I be laughing and joking with Leo and Gabe, with Katie no longer around? I shouldn’t be. It was wrong and made me ashamed to think I’d briefly forgotten about her. Allowed them to fill a space solely reserved for the wife I’d lost. For the life I’d lost. Us. Me and her.

“You okay in here? Still trying to block out the image of Gabe as a boy?” Leo’s light and friendly tone grated along my exposed nerves, and when he laid his hand on my shoulder, his touch seared through to my skin, eating into my flesh. Yanking out of his grip, I made a U-turn into the living area and remembered exactly why they were both here in the first place: Gabe trying to take our dream away, and Leo supposedly there to help me ensure he didn’t, but who didn’t know my own brother had sold me out. Well, I didn’t need him, didn’t need either of them.

“Go to hell,” I growled at him, making him recoil like I’d punched him in the face.

“Mitch?” The uncertainty in his voice only made me angrier.

Dropping the photograph on the sideboard, I glared at him, teeth gritted. “I said. Go. To. Hell.” I needed out. Now. Grabbing my jacket, I fled outside, not bothering to bring the dogs with me. Space, I needed space, unable to think straight if they were both near, crowding me, confusing me.

Chapter Eleven

Gabe

Picking up the photograph, I studied the picture, scarcely recognizing the man smiling back at me, Mitch looked so happy. I guessed the woman to be his wife. Long wavy auburn hair, feline features with beautiful dark blue eyes, she was pretty. I glanced at Mitch again, his eyes sparkling, smile wide—they were the perfect couple.

I placed the frame down carefully on the shelf and turned toward Leo, his entire body ramrod straight as he stared out the window, where he’d not moved since Mitch left a half hour ago.

“He’ll come back when he calms down,” I said, trying to soothe him.

He didn’t turn around. “I shouldn’t have touched him,” he answered me. “I didn’t see him holding the picture. I shouldn’t have touched him.”

Pain wound around my body at the anguish in Leo’s voice. He seemed to be shouldering the blame when he had no reason to. He had no way of guessing Mitch would suddenly flip out. Hell, they’d both delighted in teasing me a few moments before, so we couldn’t have predicted his rapid change of mood.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have touched him.”

For someone who liked to please, having Mitch lash out at him wasn’t good for Leo. I went over to him and stood a little behind and to the side, allowing the heat from my body to seep into his own. Gently taking hold of his bicep, I calmly spun him around to face me. “It’s not your fault,” I repeated. “It’s not his either.”

He frowned.

“We all react to grief differently, and I suspect that’s what he was doing—reacting. Think about it from his point of view for a second.” Leo’s sad eyes fixed steadily on my own, hardly blinking as he absorbed my words. God, he was handsome. Like classic, never-goes-out-of-style handsome. My fingers itched to reach out and stroke his face, feel the day-old stubble tickle my palm. I curled my hand into a fist to stop me from doing so and making a fool of myself, besides. “From what you told me, he’s rarely set foot off this place since his wife died. His whole life revolved around her and the cabin and the land. Now she’s gone, I’m guessing he’s desperately trying to keep her memory alive.” I raised my hand higher and rested my palm on his left shoulder. “Then we come along and blow his isolated life apart. He probably hasn’t let loose this much in a long, long time. Seeing the photograph most likely made him feel guilty at having a bit of fun, when she wasn’t around to enjoy it with him.” I placed my other hand on his right shoulder and gently shook him. “So, I repeat, you’re not at fault, okay? Mitch needs to understand he can both laugh and mourn. It doesn’t make his grief any less because he had a bit of fun. But he’s a stubborn ass.” A tiny smile turned up the corners of Leo’s mouth. “So, it’ll take him a while to realize that, is all.”

“Thank you,” he said, seeming to be a little comforted. “Who’d have guessed you were so perceptive?”

I quirked my lips. “I have my moments.”

He studied me, really studied me. “Yes,” he replied thoughtfully, as if he’d discovered something he hadn’t expected. “I think you do.”

We stood there staring at each other, and little by little, the something shifted between us. My palms grew hot as they rested on Leo’s shoulders, his warmth permeating through the sweater and T-shirt he wore.

My pulse slugged thick in my veins as my eyes dropped to Leo’s mouth. He immediately bit his lower lip, worrying the plump flesh with his teeth. Without thinking, I gently tugged his lip free with my thumb and forefinger, causing them to part and his pupils to instantly dilate, his breath to catch in his throat.

A rub of my thumb over his lower lip elicited a ragged groan. His eyes dropped to my mouth, the corners curving slightly in response.

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