Page 18 of Sweet Escape
I pull up in front of the old two-story farmhouse with the butter-yellow door and the chipped white siding, resting my head against the steering wheel. My thoughts drift back to the woman at the diner wearing the little pink apron with her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun.
My fingers trail over the recipe card, feeling the indentations where the pen dug into the paper. Even if I wanted to pursue something with Olivia, I’m no good for her. After what her ex put her through, she deserves someone who can give her everything. It’s best if I keep my distance. I toss the card into my glove box alongside the familiar pair of lacy black panties that have been taunting me for weeks. It’s time to put her out of my mind. Olivia Sullivan is not for me, and I’d do well to remember that.
My mouth waters at the unmistakable scent of Mama’s famous mac and cheese permeating her kitchen.
Emmy is seated in her high chair near the island with a pileof bite-sized noodles strewn across her tray. Her cheesy grin spears me right in the chest.
“Hi, Angel. Did you talk Gigi into sneaking you an early dinner?” I ask.
Mama starts to wipe down the high chair tray, scooping up some of the mess. “It was a pre-emptive strike. She was getting hangry.”
She’s like her mom in that way. Snacks were the cure for many arguments during our marriage. A pang of sadness hits me, but it dissolves when Emmy calls my name and flaps her hands, asking to be picked up.
“One second, Em. Let Daddy get you cleaned up first.” I reach for the pack of baby wipes Mama keeps on the island, wiping the cheese from her hands and face. “All better.”
After scooping her into my arms, I rub our noses together and kiss her forehead. She giggles, and the sound is a balm to my tattered soul. With my best girl in my arms, I head out back to the deck where my younger brothers, Griffin and Jaxon, are manning the grill with beers in hand.
I’ll never get tired of this view. Green grass as far as the eye can see, leading to peaks and valleys in the distance. Mama’s greenhouse sits off the back walkway, with the west pasture just beyond the fence where several of our horses are grazing as the evening sun dips below the horizon. The mountains in Colorado were a sight to behold, but nothing could ever compare to the feeling of home.
“Emmy Lou, come to Uncle Jaxy!” the youngest of my two brothers says.
His dark blonde hair is tousled, his signature cowboy hat discarded on the large rectangular barnwood dining table. He’s wearing his nerdy wire-framed glasses over the green eyes that are so like our mom’s, which tells me he’s been going over the books today. Emmy kicks in my arms, begging to be let down. Ever since we moved back, she’s been stuck toher Uncle Jax like glue, and it’s beginning to feel like an insult.
“Go on,” I say, tugging on one of her pigtails as I set her on the ground. She toddles into his arms, and he tosses her into the air, causing her to unleash a high-pitched squeal.
I wish Jess could see this. She always wanted us to have a big, messy family, but she never got the chance to see it through. I glance up at the sky like I so often do, exhaling shakily to ease the pit in my stomach.
Griffin reaches into the red cooler on the deck and pulls out another beer, holding it out for me.
“Thanks.” I tip my head in his direction, popping the top off with my teeth.
“Don’t let Mama see you do that,” he says.
The weathered porch steps creek behind me, and the look on Griff’s face tells me I’m in imminent danger. “See what? Wilder, did you pop that beer open with your teeth again?”
“Me? Never?” I say, my tone dripping in sarcasm.
“I didn’t pay for year’s worth of braces for you to chip your damn teeth as a grown ass man,” she says, tapping me on the back of the head.
My lips twitch with barely suppressed humor as I take a long pull of my beer. She sets a casserole dish in the middle of the table, along with a stack of plates and silverware.
“The chicken and ribs should be done in five,” Griffin says, doing the customary double click of the tongs as he closes the grill top.
Dad’s the last Hayes to join us on the deck. He wraps his arms around Mama’s waist from behind as he places a soft kiss on her forehead. They’ve always been openly affectionate, much to our utter annoyance when we were teenagers.
Their ease of affection is something I always wanted in a partner, but Jess was vehemently against public displays. I kept a running tally of every time I had to tamp down my urges,unleashing all of it as soon as we were away from prying eyes. I can almost hear her laughter as my beard tickles her neck, but it’s a distant memory, fading as time goes on.
“Y’all hear Garrett Farm is going up for auction this month?” Dad lifts his cowboy hat to sweep back his thinning grey hair before replacing it. It’s a nervous tic I’ve come to recognize over the years; a sign something’s niggling at him. I’m a carbon copy of a younger Russell Hayes if he had a beard, and I’ve inadvertently adopted some of his mannerisms.
“Yeah. Heard they finally settled the estate. You interested?” Jax asks, likely already doing the mental calculations of cost versus benefit. Garrett Farm is adjacent to Griffin’s parcel of land, just on the other side of the pasture.
“I’m not opposed, but I heard the Bennett-Sullivans are after it.”
My brows draw together at the mention of Olivia’s family. “Rosie’s son-in-law? What does he want with it?”
“Probably somethin’ to do with that old rivalry rearing its ugly head,” Mama says. “I wish y’all would let bygones be bygones. It’s been years.”
“That son-of-a-bitch tried to sabotage my ranch,” Dad says. “I’m not gon’ forget that.”
