Page 199 of Come Back to Me

Her arms around me.

Her feet entangled with mine.

Even though she wants to keep things on the down-low, even though I know she’s still hurting from my past actions, she’s here with me, holding me because she knew that was what I needed.

I stare at the ceiling, which is pitch black until some critter knocks on the security light outside.

The shadows dance overhead until they stop, leaving me in a pit of darkness again, the only sound coming from the mantel clock and her soft breathing.

It soothes something deep inside, something raw.

Lets me take a deeper inhalation than I would have earlier and enables me to release it, slowly and with intent.

“That was a lot to unpack over key lime pie.”

I still. “Didn’t realize you were awake.”

“I napped. But I was worried about you.”

“Sometimes, I can’t imagine hating him more than I do,” I admit gruffly. “Then Mum shares something from the past, Callan flinches, Cole makes some joke about something hideous from our childhood, or Colt gets that look in his eye where he’s reminded of everything he had to give up and I hate him all over again.”

“What did Colt have to give up?” I can feel her grimace against my throat. “Aside from his innocence, of course.”

“Colt stuck close to Saskatoon. Not dissing his alma mater, but he had the smarts for somewhere a lot fancier. He should have traveled. Sowed his wild oats. But he couldn’t. He had to stay close to the ranch. Had to be a father to his brothers. Too much responsibility,” I mutter. “It’s a wonder if they’ll ever have kids.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s already been a dad to Callan, never mind Cole. Clay was around to pick up the slack with me. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t the one I came to with my problems. Why would he want to add to that responsibility?”

“Nah,” she disagrees. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who was made to be a dad more than your brother.”

“And you’d know the required specifications, huh?” Despite the heavy topic, my lips twitch.

Honestly, her bullshit is not only refreshing, but relaxing.

“Hey, I have great parental examples. I mean, I bitch about them, but the only problem I really have with them is that they want me to be boring.”

“How dare they.”

“Precisely. They want me to be stable and secure.” I canfeelher eye roll. “Honestly, could you imagine me being either of those things?”

“No, I guess not.”

“Uh-huh. In fact, you’re making my grievances with my family seem petty. Here I am, two folks whose major crime is wanting me to be respectable, and here you are with a father who killed his brother and God only knows who else and a mother who had to run before she was murdered.”

“We lucked out.”

“I’ll say.” She rests her chin on my chest. “Want me to play for you? I brought my violino piccolo.”

“No.” I hold her tighter to me. “I want you here. With me.”

“That I can do.” She kisses my shoulder. “Very easily.”

“Sorry about earlier.”

“It’s fine. I-I know dinner was heavy. I wanted to give you space, but when I found you here, I just couldn’t leave you alone.”

“I’m glad.” My throat feels tight as I admit, “I used to dream about having a normal family. Whenever I went around to Bast’s place, it was heaven and hell. His family is,was, so fucking ordinary. I used to be so jealous. If anyone deserves something horrific like early Alzheimer’s, it’s Clyde?—”

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