Page 17 of Broken Promise

I don’t offer him empty words or uselessplatitudes. I just sit there holding him. I love the Blakebrothers, each in a different way. Adam is the closest to my ageand we have always gotten along like a house on fire.

“I can’t believe she is actually gone,” hesays, pulling away once the crying subsides. “It feels unreal.”

“I know.”

“How long does this feeling last?”

“It gets easier,” I say, looking at theclear blue sky. “Some days are good but there will be bad days.Days when you want to tell her something and then it hits you allover again.”

“Is that how you feel?”

“So many times,” I reply with a sigh. “Iwant to call Tommy up and tell him to get his ass down here rightnow.”

“But you’re here.”

“I can deal with you,” I say with a chuckle.“I can even deal with Wesley. But Shane? I don’t know what to dowith him.”

Adam nods. “I know what you mean.”

Silence descends on us as we watch the carsdrive by. Neither of us makes a move to go back inside. I knowWesley is fine, and Adam just needs a minute.

“Let’s get some lunch,” Shane says as hewalks out of the funeral home with Wesley on his heels. “I havesome questions.”

Adam chuckles and I roll my eyes. I knewthis was coming and Adam, not asking any questions, surprised me.Now I know why he didn’t say anything—theyare going to do it together.

“Fine,” Wesley says, helping me up. “Butlet’s do this at the bar. I don’t want every curious old ladylistening to our conversation.”

He leads me to his black pickup truck beforeboosting me up into the passenger seat. It only takes him a momentto join me before we drive back through town.

“I really love this truck,” I muse, runningmy hand along the leather seat. “I still can’t believe you taughtme to drive in this thing.”

Wesley laughs. “It was the first thing Ibought myself. Tommy almost had a stroke when he saw you drivingit.”

Laughter bubbles up in me as the memoryflashes through my mind. “He was so pissed. I thought he was goingto hit you.”

“He was terrified you were going to wreck mytruck.”

I snort. “I had a decent teacher. I haven’thad a wreck in my life, and I was thirteen when you taught me.”

Grabbing my hand, Welsey lifts it to hismouth and kisses my knuckles. “I’m glad to hear it.”

****

Wesley Blake

The bar has more patrons inside than it doeson a weekday, but most are seated at booths eating something. In afew hours more people will pour in and start drinking. Tonight, wehave a band from three towns away so we should draw a decentcrowd.

Drew, the bartender, nods as we walk in, andI lead Karmen and my brothers to one of the open booths. A momentlater one of the waitresses approaches with a smile and a handfulof menus.

“We won’t need those, Kallie,” Karmen sayswith a smile. “We’ll take three bacon- cheeseburgers, and Shanewill have a salad.”

“Woman,” Shane grumbles.

“Don’t start,” she bites back. “You knowyou’re not going to eat the damn burger even if you order it. Youalways have the salad.”

“Fine.” He huffs, knowing she is right. Mybrother lives a clean, healthy life, and everyone knows it. “Butbring us a bottle of bourbon and four glasses.”

Kallie’s eyes almost pop out of her head inshock before she scurries off to place our order. She is fast andin minutes she places the bourbon and glasses in front of us beforedisappearing once more.

---