I slowed down before I reached a stoplight, and if anything, the rain was picking up. I shook my head and peered out the windshield. This was gonna make me crack. Today was the day. If I didn’t find anything useful to do, I was gonna seek out Soph or Sebastian. Or I would start stalking his social media.
In my opinion, I deserved a fucking medal for staying away for so long. After all, we followed each other on Instagram—unless he had blocked me, which was highly possible—and we’d friended each other on Facebook back when everything was great.
What was he up to? In the summer, he spent a lot of time working at his grandfather’s orchard, but that had to be over for the season, right?
On my way to a coffee shop Dylan and Soph had introduced me to this summer, I passed a sports bar and decided I was gonna treat myself to dinner there next Falcons game. If I wasn’t mistaken, we were playing the Seahawks right before Halloween. Maybe we could stop our losing streak… We hadn’t won a game since Philly.
Following the Bulldogs was a hell of a lot more rewarding, and I had to have a TV installed somewhere by November, ’cause we had three big games next month.
“For being a dead li’l town, they barely have any available parking.” Was I asking too much, huh? Was that it? Rain, no parking, no proper bed—fucking hell. All I wanted was my folks’ acceptance, my Rosie with me, and a seventy-inch flat-screen, and I couldn’t even get a little bit of sunshine. “Fuck it.” I swerved into a loading zone and looked around me. “Daddy will be right back.” Then I left the truck and jogged toward the coffee shop.
I hated the rain.
I needed a roof… A roof. That was fucking it. Of course—that’s what I had to do. I’d head on over to the store and pick up more tarps after breakfast. If this shitty town wasn’t gonna ease up on the rain, I’d build the guesthouse under a roof.
Thank God for small favors, there was no line at the shop. I was in and out in two minutes and hurried back down the cobblestone sidewalk with a large coffee, a bagel with cream cheese, and a treat for the boys.
Back in the truck, I reached between the seats and let them out of the carrier. “I got y’all a meatball sandwich the way you like it—no bread, no lettuce, no cheese, no sauce.”
I pulled out my pocketknife and cut one meatball into tiny pieces and let them go nuts, saving the other two for later. Their little stomachs couldn’t handle a whole lot.
Okay, I could do this. A roof, yeah—first break I’d caught since I got here. I nodded to myself and took a sip from my coffee.
A couple knocks on the window interrupted my brief peace, and I jumped in my seat. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” If I was getting a ticket now, I was gonna flip my ever-loving—fuck. A glance out the window revealed something much worse.
Dylan.
His forehead creased, and his gaze flashed with equal parts confusion and amusement.
I rolled down the window. “I was hoping to avoid this.”
“Then you probably shouldn’t get breakfast right across from the place where I work,” he responded, not missing a beat. “Am I missing something here? Soph didn’t mention you were coming back so soon.”
I really wanted to hate this guy. If he’d been a lousy piece of shit, I could’ve told him to mind his fucking business. Instead, he was everything Soph needed and then some. Hardworking, ambitious, faithful, nice as hell, definitely easy on the eyes… More than that, he’d become a terrific daddy to Teddy.
“She doesn’t know I’m here,” I admitted. How much did I tell him? Preferably as little as possible, but I had to go one of two routes. Either I told him the gist of what’d led to my hasty move across the country, and I didn’t think unloading on my future brother-in-law—whom I’d met all of one time—about my folks was appropriate. Or, I let him in on my plan for the land I’d bought.
“Then why, Blake?”
Right, he was protective too. A good trait. And right now, I was the fuckup brother who’d let down his girlfriend and the mother of his two kids.
I raked my teeth over my bottom lip and reckoned I didn’t have a choice. “I’ll show you. Just—don’t tell Soph yet. Meet me at the end of Marten Lane in Downtown when you get off work.”
He narrowed his eyes, understandably puzzled and possibly suspicious.
“Don’t tell Sebastian either.”
That earned me a snort, and Dylan took a couple steps back. “He’d bite my head off for even saying your name.”
Ouch. But I’d seen that coming. I wasn’t a popular guy around these parts.