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Wait for Me

Page 73

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He shakes his dark head. “If that were me—”

“If it were me, I would’ve told my sister the father of her child was about to show up!”

“I was about to tell you last night. I told you, he got here early. Anyway, I thought you were in contact with him.”

“I haven’t spoken to him since…” Shaking my head, I fight the mist filling my eyes again. “He kicked me out, Sawyer. He told me to leave and never come back. His exact words were ‘Find somebody else.’”

“He was messed up. You of all people should have seen that.”

“No.” I will not let him cast me this way. “I went to him. I would’ve done anything to help him. I begged… and he kicked me out. Strike that. He didn’t kick me out, he screamed in my face to get out.”

My brother’s jaw clenches. I see the muscle move back and forth… then just as fast, his shoulders fall. His eyes meet mine, and he closes the space between us, pulling me into a tight hug. It takes half a second for me to relax and wrap my arms around his waist, hugging him back.

“I’m sorry, sis.” The crack in his voice tightens my chest. “I know what you went through. I also know what he went through… what we all went through. You need to come together and deal with your past. For Dove.”

We hold each other a few beats longer before stepping apart. He clears his throat, and I wipe my sleeve across my damp eyes again.

This man never left my side as I grieved, then he stepped right up to help raise my daughter. He has never let me down.

“So about those rats…” I point to the back door.

“Where are they?”

It’s late when I finally decide to call it a day.

I only took a break to eat the food I’d grabbed on my way out the door, and I texted the guys—lunch is on your own.

Dove ran up the hill a few times with Akela to watch me on my hands and knees scrubbing “like Cinderella with the singing bubbles”—her words.

She pretended to sweep while actually dancing with the broom to her version of the Angelina Ballerina opening theme, and when she got bored, Akela ran with her back down the hill to the house.

Sawyer had disposed of the rodent carcasses before my little princess had a chance to see them. Then, when it finally got too dark to see, I dragged my exhausted body the quarter-mile back to the house, weary from a full day of cleaning.

A full day of avoiding the giant elephant in the orchard.

The shed actually looks pretty good since I removed the decades of dirt. The floors are a pretty yellow pine with dark lines of character in them. The walls need a coat of paint, and that huge box needs to be sorted. It seems to be mostly old letters and family things, and I need to take it to Miss Jessica.

Dove is in my bed with Alice the mouse cuddled at her side when I emerge from the shower. My hair is damp and wrapped in a towel, and I’m in sweatpants and an oversized shirt that falls off one shoulder.

Going to where she sleeps, I trace my finger along her little hand curled into a loose fist at her cheek. Sawyer’s accusation this morning is heavy in my chest. Why didn’t I just tell him? How do I tell her now?

A solid day of cleaning and avoidance didn’t clear my head. I still have no idea what to do about this, the man or the perfect gift we’ve been given.

One thing I know for certain: I will not fall in love with Taron Rhodes again.

I will not let him destroy me like he almost did…

I’m rubbing the towel in the length of my hair when a tap on my window makes me jump. Akela lifts her head off her paws, where she’s lying at Dove’s feet, and when she sees him outside the glass, her ears lie back and she seems to smile.

My silly heart tries to beat faster—the same heart he ripped out of my chest.

Stop being a sadist, heart. He killed you once, remember?

I buried those feelings and paved a road on top of them, but clearly they had tree roots, so deep you can never get the last one. His blue-green eyes hold mine through the glass and everything inside me heats right up. Old feelings break through my defenses like baby trees growing in concrete.

I go slowly to where he waits, lifting the glass so he can swing his legs into the room. I almost expect him to catch me by the waist and pull me to him, cover my mouth with his and kiss me senseless.

“Hey.” His voice is low, warm, sexy. His hair’s longer, and a piece has fallen over one eye, daring me to thread my fingers in it… Crossing my arms over my chest, I feel very exposed in only my sweats, fresh out of the shower, with my hair wet.



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