Be My Brayshaw (Brayshaw High 4)

It takes her a long moment, but then she glances my way, her expression blank, and shoulders past me until she’s sliding into the back seat with Royce. Raven tries to slip in after her, but Maddoc beats her with a glare.

With a playful eye roll, she climbs up front as I walk around and get in the driver seat.

“Was it as bad as you thought?” I ask Raven.

She shrugs. “I don’t really care, but even so, nobody said a damn word about the two extra stomachs attached to me.”

We chuckle, and I catch a small grin on Victoria’s face, but she wipes it away quickly, anxiety blanketing her features the farther down the street we get.

Minutes later, we’re pulling onto Bray grounds, past the group home and into the clearing that allows us a view of the mansion.

The tension in my chest eases as I spot her.

My little world.

“Look at her.” Royce sits forward in the back seat, smiling out the front windshield.

Zoey starts stomping her feet, trying to tug free from our dad’s hand as we roll closer to the porch, but he doesn’t free her quite yet.

She starts waving, and even though I can’t hear it, the sound of her little laughter fills my ears, and an unexplainable warmth flows through my veins.

This is it.

This is what I’ve dreamt about for so long, coming home to my baby girl waiting for me at our home. I didn’t realize it would be as hard as it was to leave her here today. When I’d go visit her, when Maria cared for her, an overwhelming sense of guilt weighed my every step. I thought it would be different when she was home, but it’s not. I felt her absence all day.

As soon as the engine is off, and my door is open, Dad lets her go and she comes charging down the steps, right into my open and waiting arms.

“Hi, Zo.” I hug her to me, quickly pulling back so I can look at her. “Did you miss me?”

“Uh-huh!” her smile is wide, her little feet kicking. “You’re all done now?”

I squeeze her tighter. “All done for today.”

I know she might not understand what I’m saying fully, but she throws her little fists up anyway.

“Yay!” She laughs, then shifts to look at the others climbing out.

I tense, but my muscles relax when Victoria keeps herself sitting inside.

Zoey wiggles in my arms, so I set her down and it’s Royce she runs to first.

“Zoey Bear!” he shouts as he dips down, lifts her up and tosses her in the air.

“Uncle Bro!” She laughs back, kisses his cheek then kicks again to be let go.

“You tryin’ to ditch me already?”

“Baby’s turn!”

Royce tickles her, and she throws her head back laughing.

“Fine.” He pretends to pout. “Baby’s turn.” He puts her down, watching as she runs over to Raven.

Raven pulls her lips between her teeth, and slowly lowers herself onto the porch steps so Zoey can drop beside her, same as she does for her every day, getting on Zoey’s level.

Zoey smiles, tugging her shoulders up to her cheeks, then reaches out and gently pats Raven’s stomach. She leans forward, thinking she’s whispering but her little voice is loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Hi, baby.” She giggles at herself. “Hi bestest friend. Are you sleeping?” She lifts her eyes to Raven. “Is baby sleeping?”

A gentle smile, a new one for her, graces Raven’s lips. “Do you think baby is sleeping?”

“Yes!” Zoey shouts, making us all laugh.

It’s the same exact question every day, and Raven plays along each time.

“Then I think so, too.” She winks, raising her eyes to Maddoc.

Of the three of them, Maddoc is the most timid with Zoey. I’m not so sure it’s nerves as it is maybe he’s afraid.

Outside of us, Raven is the first person he’s ever loved, but every time he looks at my daughter, at his niece, it’s not hard to spot the tenderness there.

I’m almost positive it terrifies him, makes him fear how hard he’ll love his own baby, and I get it. It’s the most powerful feeling I’ve ever known, but I can’t help and wonder if he’s fearful of loving someone more than he does Raven.

I can’t answer that for him, though, because I have no clue how it works, the love of your woman in comparison to the love of your child.

I imagine it’s different, but just as strong.

I look to our dad, who pointedly shifts his eyes to my SUV only to bring them right back, a heavy, disapproving frown carved across his forehead.

“Son.”

“Don’t,” I warn. “She deserves no part of this and she knows it.”

“You saying she wasn’t warned to drag behind?”

“Does it matter?”

His eyes narrow as he attempts to read the thought behind mine. “I’m thinking, yeah, it does. It’s a sign of respect.”