Page 84 of Where I Should’ve Been

I step away from the contentious bachelor group without delay, following closely behind the two women as they make haste toward Norah’s car. My posture is as sheepish as my flock, however, since the last thing I want to be is antagonistic. She’s already upset, and I don’t want to make it worse. “Breeze,” I implore. “Can I talk to you?”

She shakes her head, and Norah steps in front of her, blocking me like a professional football defensive end. Her small stature suddenly seems like a six-four, three-hundred-pound hologram of Myles Garrett. “Now isn’t a good time. Later. Try again later.”

“I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s fine,” Norah answers for her again.

“I’d love to hear that from her,” I say as kindly as I can. Not only is none of this Norah’s fault, but there are two very angry wolves temporarily pretending this is Show Tunes on Tour for the sake of the adorable toddler in Bennett’s arms. One wrong move, and I’m liable to be worm food. “Breeze, please,” I beg.

“I’m good, Tad,” she says, but her smile is fucking brittle. “Promise. Upset. A little off, but nothing you need to worry about right now, okay?”

“We’ll talk later?” I ask, needing the confirmation for some godforsaken reason. Her avoidance should be the excuse I need to shut down and bug off. Her business shouldn’t be my business. That’s part of keeping it casual—leaving the care and emotions at the moment of intimacy, no more, no less.

And yet, if the burn in my chest is any indication right now, when it comes to Breezy Bishop, all my usual careful boundaries left and slammed the door behind themselves a long fucking time ago.

“Yes.” She nods. “We’ll talk later. I promise.”

I take a deep breath as Norah ushers Breezy forward again, settling her into the passenger side of her car and then rounding the hood to climb inside. Her eyes guard everything, and I watch avidly as she cranks the engine and swoops a broad turn around in the gravel drive. I don’t take my eyes off the taillights until they’re completely out of the driveway.

When I eventually do turn back to Bennett and Logan and the burn barrel, danger is waiting for me in the form of two sets of very ominously keen eyes.

“Ted, I’ll be honest. I want an explanation,” Logan announces as Bennett fights a wiggling Autumn. “About why you hit me—”

“And why, oh why you have so much interest in Beatrice Bishop in the first place,” Bennett cuts him off. “Tell me right now. Are you sleeping with my sister? Because trust me, I wasn’t exactly believing the whole ‘Breezy’s helping out on your farm’ bulls—crud. And now that I see the way you’re looking at her, I’m starting to think she was spending more time in your bed than your god—gosh-darn farm.”

“What?” Logan snaps. “You thinking Farmer Ted is plowing Breezy’s field?”

Bennett rolls his eyes, but I don’t shy away from the answer. The truth is that, yes, Breezy and I have been sleeping together. But we’re not teenagers, and her brothers have absolutely no reason for some self-righteous psychobabble about her virtue. I mean, from what Breezy’s told me, for most of her life, it’s been she who’s taken care of their asses. Not the other way around.

“Yes.” It’s a simple word, but the tone is emblazoned by a chest full of air. “Not that it’s any fuuu—mbling business of yours.”

“Holy hel—lo.” Bennett’s jaw drops.

“Hello! Hello!” Autumn chimes in, waving her little toddler hand in the air. “Hello, baby!”

If I weren’t being currently stared down by the bull that is Bennett Bishop, I would probably acknowledge how cute it is and say hello back to her.

“Are you fu—dging kidding me?” Bennett questions through a tight jaw. “Breezy fell for your happy, yapping shi—crap and your sheepy fingers?”

“Bahh, bahhh!” Autumn shouts proudly. “Sheep go bahhh!”

And I have to admit, it makes me smile. She’s a sweet kid with a happy disposition and demanding energy. She marches boldly through life, and Norah and Bennett do a great job of enjoying every moment of chasing her, but regardless of how sweet her pigtails are or how big her smile is, Bennett and Norah have still been left with a hell of an empty bucket that will never fill. There’s a void when you lose a kid that can’t be—

“Well.” Bennett grabs my attention, having set Autumn down near her swing set that’s safely away from the burn pit and moved closer to me. He’s maintaining a soft posture—for the sake of his marriage and his behavior in front of his toddler, no doubt—but from what I can tell, he’s been waiting on an answer from me for a while as my mind wandered. “What are your intentions?”

I blink. “My intentions?”

“Yeah, ass—butthole. With my sister. What are your intentions? Do you intend to date her? Marry her?”

A jolt of panic shoots straight through me. My stomach knots. My fingers tingle. Not because I don’t know how I feel about Breezy—but because I do.

And that’s the damn problem.

I know what happens when you let someone in too far. I know what happens when your entire world becomes them and what it costs you when you believe they’ll always be there.

I told myself Breezy was a distraction. Temporary. Casual. But somewhere between the lines of her laugh and her smile and the way she makes fucking everything better, that lie’s gotten harder to hold on to. More like, impossible to hold on to.

“Jeez, Ted. Are you having a stroke or something?” Logan sneers. “Why won’t you answer my brother’s question?”