Page 373 of Branded
He trailed me to the door, murmuring that he’d go back to packing the kitchen and let me hang with my old friend.
Giving me space to rebuild our relationship.
Shit.
I sniffed again.
I just loved him so much.
“Lake,” Cas said by way of greeting since Ethan had opened the front door and was showing Lake inside. He kissed the top of my head, started to turn away.
Then he froze. “What?”
The barked-out question had my gaze focusing on Lake instead of my son, who had stolen my attention because he was being fucking cute, standing there in the hallway, hopping from foot to foot in his excitement.
I concentrated on Lake’s face, took in his expression, his eyes…and the light inside me dimmed.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Lake came to me, wrapped me in big, strong arms, and whispered softly in my ear. “I’m sorry, babe, but it’s your dad.”
Forty-Three
Cas
She was asleep. Finally.
I couldn’t take the anguish in her eyes, hated that Lake had been the one to cause it and hated even more that I couldn’t blame the annoying fucker for having brought it—literally—to Jules’s doorstep.
But I would have hated even more if she’d heard it from someone else.
Her father was dying.
Had apparently been doing it for a while—and was doing it painfully.
Good.
What he’d done to Jules—the asshole deserved it.
But my woman, my love, my heart didn’t deserve another hurt, and despite all her father had done—and, more importantly, all the fucker hadn’t done—there was a part of Jules who still loved her father, who wished that someday things might turn out differently.
I hoped to fuck that her father would get that.
Because I didn’t want to kick a dying man’s ass.
Christ.
I bit back a sigh, but Ethan, the smart, kind, sensitive boy who was the son of my heart, sensed it anyway.
“Cas?” he whispered. “You okay?”
And that small act of care had my heart squeezing tightly. Even now, Ethan was kind. Even after the flurry of actions that had been packing for an unexpected trip and buying plane tickets and me getting the okay from Coach to miss a couple of games (and with the back office—not that I thought they’d have a problem with it because family came first with the Breakers, even when the need to see to mine came up at a busy point in the season).
“Yeah, bud.”
Ethan was quiet for a moment. Then he asked, “Is my other grandpa nice?”
Well, that was a question and a half. As thus, I focused on the easier part of the question to address. “Your other grandpa?”
