“Raine warned me that finding common ground with two strong-willed men would sometimes be a challenge. I had no idea it would be this hard.”
Beck smirked. “Seth and I don’t hold a candle to the fights Liam and Hammer had before they decided to share Raine.”
“I heard they were ugly. You two better never get into a fistfight or so help me…” Heavenly pinned him with a warning scowl.
Beck decided not to tell her how cute she looked when she was irritated. “I won’t let it come to that, especially since Seth fights mean. The lead-fisted bastard would kick my ass, and a surgeon with broken hands can’t do shit in the operating room.”
“I just wish I understood what’s going on in Seth’s head.” She frowned. “After blurting out the news about his wife and son, he just shut down and clammed up. Now he’s back there sleeping, like he’s desperate to avoid us.”
“Or desperate to avoid the truth.”
“Why? He was there when you told everyone you know and love about your crazy childhood and the fact you were forced to kill your own father. After he watched you pour out your soul, why should he be afraid to tell us what happened to his wife and baby boy?”
“He’s not just afraid; he’s fucking terrified.”
“Why? He can’t possibly think that whatever he says will make us stop loving him, can he?”
“Fear isn’t rational. And I’m not sure, but I suspect there’s more at play than fear alone.”
“Like what?”
“He’s full of denial, right?”
She nodded. “It seems that way.”
Beck wasn’t a gambling man, but… “I’d bet money Seth is stuck in the grieving process. On the surface, he knows Autumn and Tristan are gone, but somewhere in his soul—probably where his guilt lives—he can’t believe they’re gone. I don’t know if he’s made his way through any of the other stages—anger, bargaining, or depression—but it doesn’t seem like he’s really accepted that they’re gone. I’m not sure if or when he will.”
“Everyone grieves differently, but I know a thing or two about grieving since I’ve been working through it after losing my dad.” Heavenly stared out the windshield. “I was in denial. You two had to physically drag me out of bed.”
“You were escaping, kind of like he is.” Beck jerked his head toward the backseat.
“But Seth functions day to day. He’s moved on in some ways, moved here, started a new business and a new relationship…”
“That doesn’t mean he’s worked through all the stages. He might not need us to physically haul him out of bed, but he clearly needs our help to finish grieving.”
“What are you saying? That we’ve got to… I don’t know, talk him through his feelings and reassure him that we’re here for him?”
Beck nodded. “And that we always will be, regardless of his past. At least we start there.”
“That makes sense. I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Heavenly said, then yawned.
“Me, too. But like the wedding, we’re not going to resolve this today.” When she yawned again, Beck chuckled. “Lay your seat back and take a nap, little girl. I’ll get us home safely.”
“I just need to rest my eyes for a couple minutes.”
She yawned again as she lowered the seat, then curled up facing him and closed her eyes. Beck had barely driven another two miles before Heavenly was sound asleep.
As the hum of the tires droned through the vehicle, Beck replayed every minute of the horrific day—from waking sated and secure with Heavenly and Seth, through the senseless battle and its resulting anger, fear, and sorrow, to the worry now plaguing him. As he continued following the ribbon of the road, Beck sent up a silent prayer that the three of them could still find happiness together.
Long hours later, Beck pulled into the garage and killed the engine. The lack of road noise worked like an alarm clock. Both Heavenly and Seth woke, bleary-eyed and blinking, before they all climbed from the SUV.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to zonk out on you two.” Seth rolled his shoulders and stretched.
“I fell asleep, too.” Heavenly blushed.
As they met at the back of the vehicle, Beck smirked and pushed the fob to open the back hatch. “Thankfully, I didn’t.”
“Hey, before we start unloading, I need a hug.” Heavenly opened her arms, eyeing them pensively.