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I scoff. “Sounds like an excuse to me. You could have woken me up, you should have told me.”
“And then what? Make you wait for me to come back?” he makes sure Alessa is not listening. His jaw flexes and his eyes turn red with sadness and rage. “Do you think it’s that easy? Each time I’m on that field, I don’t know if it’s going to be my last. How could I make you wait after what your ex-my brother put you through? I’d be an asshole to do that.”
“You sound like an asshole already. Whether it was fair to make me wait for you or not is a decision only I could have made.” I close what is left of the space between us and tilt my face up to his. “You had no right to do that. Do you know what I’ve been through? I found out I was—”
Crap!
I stop myself before I can say anything that I know I shouldn’t.
“What did you go through, Anya?”
I almost melt at the sudden softness in his tone. “I missed you, but that was two years ago. It’s different now, and you’re Spencer’s brother. Let’s just be civil with each other.”
He’s painfully quiet for a minute. “Civil?” He looks at Kira and Alessa playing. The way he scrutinizes Kira is not the same way a man would scrutinize a kid he barely knows. Whoever said blood was thicker than water didn’t lie. “Fine.”
“I'll take Alessa home once I finish up here.”
He nods stiffly.
As he turns to leave, I can't help but stare at his broad shoulders and chest.
His handsomeness is just an addition to my list of reasons why it’ll be goddamn impossible to ignore him. The number one reason is that we have a connection that will last a lifetime.
We both have Kira, our daughter.
CHAPTER 9
Brandon
Imissed her.
That’s the only sentence that’s been burning in my mind for the past few days. Despite thinking of her almost every morning and night for two years, I didn’t realize just how bad I missed her until now.
I catch myself smiling at the fact that she really named that dog after me. I’d been annoyed with it when I came home from my deployment, but it doesn’t sound so bad anymore.
It’s hard to believe Anya has a daughter now, and I don’t know if that changes anything considering I also have a daughter. Maybe we can go on a playdate with our kids and get to know each other. I don’t expect us to pick up right where we stopped, not when she was so angry about me leaving.
I thought I’d be able to stay away from her because of my trauma and her past relationship with my brother, but I honestly don’t think I can, not when she’s all I can think of all day.
Perhaps we can't have a close relationship, but we can at least be friends. This way, she won't have to bear my burden and Spencer won't get upset with us. I'm eager to spend more time getting to know her, but the situation is quite complex.
And speaking of her daughter, I can’t tell why she keeps crossing my mind. She was a baby. It’s crazy to think of, those Jackson dark brown eyes and hair, the full lips, she has it all.
And come to think of it, if she’s a year and two months old, then it could be that—
“Hey, Brandon.”
As Joe makes his way towards the barn, I turn my head to get a better look at him. In this small town where everyone is nosy and gossips about each other, he's been my closest friend. With his towering height, fiery red hair, and impressive beard, he never fails to give great advice.
I haven’t told him about Anya. I haven’t said much of anything to anyone. Even my parents don’t know about my nightmares and the panic attacks that I experience. They don’t need to know. I don’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.
"Hey, Joe," I respond, mustering a grin as I shift my focus to him. His eyes narrow slightly, silently questioning me.
"You seem preoccupied, buddy. Is everything okay?" he asks with concern in his tone. I should have expected him to pick up on my mood. Joe has always been the one to notice when something is bothering me, no matter how much I try to hide it.
"Yeah, just lost in thought." I shrug nonchalantly, hoping to brush off his worry. But Joe isn't easily deterred.
"Are you sure about that?" he probes further, studying my expression for any clue to the truth. I hesitate, torn between opening up to him and bottling up my pain.
