Page 25 of The Light We Lost

But I loved a particular one the most.

“Well, look at you,” I crooned to Winnie, sprawled out beside her on the living room floor. “You’re quite the artist. Good enough to give your stinky uncle Levi a run for his money.”

With a giggle, Wren scribbled harder, her chubby hand clenching the crayon. She lay on her belly, clad in nothing but a diaper and a mermaid shirt. Splatters of mashed potatoes were dried on her fingers, pairing perfectly with the avocado she’d smeared into the two black pigtails atop her head. I smiled to myself, thinking about how she’d tried to rub it into her dad’s beard during dinner.

“More,” she whispered, though it sounded more likemo. She was a year and a half, and absorbing more knowledge each day, but she was smart enough to know when she was doing something she shouldn’t. “More, more.”

I grinned, eyeballing where her parents stood in my kitchen. We’d just finished our weekly family dinner, and it had been my turn to host. Deciding we were in the clear, I snuck her another bite of cookie—the baby ones that dissolveonce you put them in your mouth. “You’re going to turn into a cookie if you eat any more,” I warned when she insisted on another bite, and she gave me a gap-toothed smile like that was her entire dream. “You’re going to get me in trouble with your mommy—”

“Winnie!”

My niece and I shared a wide-eyed look at the sound of her mom’s voice. I scrambled, shoving the soggy cookie in my mouth just as Shay said, “Winnie, I told you no more cookies. You’ve had three—” Shay covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking as she fought off a laugh.

I followed her gaze and choked at the sight of Wren sprawled out on her back, her tongue hanging out like she was playing dead.

I might’ve fed her the cookie, but she was the true mastermind.

Shay scooped her daughter up, both of them giggling as she tickled her side. I cleaned up the crayons and paper, setting them in the craft bin for her to use later, and then joined Jake and Brooks in the kitchen. “Did you teach her that?” I asked, grabbing a towel to help Brooks clean up dinner.

“We’ve been teaching Cash some new tricks,” he said, referring to their German shepherd. “Apparently she liked that one.”

I elbowed his side. “Makes sense why she was barking at me for a cookie.”

He shook his head with a grin, and it struck me how much he looked like Dad. Not solely because he’d inherited Dad’s dark hair and sturdy frame, but because of the pride in his eyes as he talked about his kid. “Thanks for letting us have dinner here.”

“Thanks for feeding me.” I put the last of the dishes on the rack. “I keep telling you—we can switch houses.”

“And kick you out of your bachelor pad?”

“Anywhere is a bachelor pad as long as I’m there.” I leaned against the counter beside him, both of us watching as Jake and Shay played with Winnie in the living room.

I’d lived here for most of my life. It was a two-story cabin, the ceilings high and vaulted. The hardwood flooring was nicked and scratched, proof three boys had grown up here. The living room was open, room for a sectional andrecliner. There were deer mounts and photos on the log walls. A fireplace in the corner with a string guitar leaning against it. It had been Dad’s. I smiled as my niece curiously strummed the strings, but I couldn’t stop my thoughts from wandering back to what Sam had said the other night:You hang out with your brother and that pretty wife and daughter of his, but at the end of the day, you go home to that big house alone.

Pushing past the lump in my throat, I added, “Besides, it makes more sense for you to have the bigger house.” There were six bedrooms. Besides mine, and the one I kept ready for Levi when he visited, they were empty. “There’s one of me and three of you—maybe more if you start pumping out babies left and right.”

“Shay has been feeling a little baby hungry,” Brooks said, and I could tell by the way he watched his wife, he was excited to grow their family. Hell, I was excited for them. If I had my way, I’d have thirty nieces and nephews. “But I don’t know. This is your home—”

“It’s our childhood home,” I reminded him. “I just happen to be the last one here. Wouldn’t it be cool to raise your kids in the house you grew up in?”

“You could do the same.” Brooks raised a brow, and I snorted, not bothering to grace that with a response. “Yeah, I thought so. Guess I’ll have to rely on Levi to give Wren some cousins.” He patted my shoulder. “Thanks for offering us the house—but we’re good. Shay and I talked it over, and we’d rather add on than move out. That cabin was our beginning, and we don’t want to give it up.”

I didn’t blame him. When Shay first moved to town, she and Brooks had been at each other’s throats. But slowly, they lowered their walls and let the other in. Brooks had built her that house, and in return, Shay saved my brother. They were each other’s home.

I wouldn’t give that up either.

I cleared my throat. The last of the sun was glaring through the window, and I glanced at the clock. “Alright.” I kept my voice as relaxed as I could manage. “I’m going to head out. You guys can stay as long as you want,obviously—”

“Where you going?” Jake smiled smugly as he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. He knew exactly where I was going. “Oh, that’s right—you’ve got a hot date with Indy.”

Before I could tell him to eat sand, Brooks said, “So she’s really back in town, huh?”

I wasn’t surprised he’d heard the news. In this town, word traveled, especially news as hot as Indy. But I was shocked he hadn’t brought it up before now. He’d fidgeted all throughout dinner, so much Shay had stomped on his foot beneath the table. I’d brushed it off as them having a silent argument, or even as foreplay—I had no doubt Brooks was a kinky bastard—but now it was clear it’d been Shay telling him to mind his own business.

“Tell him the best part, Nolan,” Jake pressed.

I pointed a finger at him. “This is the last time you’re invited to family dinner.”

“That’s fine.” He wiggled his brows. “You can invite your wife.”

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