Upon spotting a rogue tear careening down my cheek, my dad murmurs, "Oh, baby girl." His cracking voice adds to my devastation. "We'll head back to Smith Street; go home via Duke's place. Come on."
Faster than I can blink, he helps me into his truck via the hanging open driver's side door. I bite on the inside of my cheek to stifle a sob when Alex reenters the cab from the opposite side of my father. Instead of sitting where he did earlier, he takes my spot in the passenger seat, squishing me between him and my father's slumped shoulder.
The tension is so high, nothing but the erratic thump of three hearts is heard. After my father executes a U-turn, we quickly slip away from an area responsible for tearing my heart in two, but it comes too late. Nothing can impede the train wreck of memories hammering me: the horrifying words Luca and I screamed at each other as he dangerously careened down the narrow road we are traveling on, the smell when I awoke after twenty minutes of unconsciousness, his low-hanging head. They crash into me like a violent wave, ensuring my eyes have no choice but to release the flood inundating them.
“Don’t,” Alex murmurs when I protest him seizing my wrist to pull me into his lap. “You either let me hold you, or I’m gonna cut down that damn tree with my bare hands.”
My dad’s tightened jaw slackens from Alex’s comment. He has threatened to destroy a certain tree many times the past eight years.
Although I feel utterly ridiculous grieving one man while nuzzling into the chest of another, I can’t help but accept Alex’s comfort. He peers down at me without a single pang of doubt in his eyes. His comfort comes with no strings attached. I won’t owe him a single dime if I accept what he is offering. He is with me because he wants to be, not because he feels obligated.
That was all I ever asked from Luca.
Only now am I realizing it was the one thing he never gave me.
Chapter Twenty-One
“I’ve got her.”
Regan’s dad, Hayden, glares at me. “She’s my daughter, which means she is my responsibility.”
Before I can give him the old, "You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your parents line," a pretty blonde I'd guess to be early to mid-fifties joins our intense standoff. Even though a willow tree shadows half her face, I can confidently declare she is Regan's mother. She is just as beautiful and seemingly just as confident.
“Supper is now over; dessert is up next. If you two aren’t inside within the next ten minutes, I’m feeding your share of the pie to the dogs.”
After her eyes drift between me sitting in the passenger seat of her husband’s truck with a sleeping Regan in my arms, and Regan’s dad standing guard at my door, she pivots away with a laugh, leaving me stranded with a man who believes I’m incapable of carrying his daughter up a flight of stairs.
Once the creak of an old screen door screeches through the uncomfortable silence, Hayden’s slit eyes lock back with mine. “God dang it, boy, if you make me miss out on Sally’s homemade pie, I’ll suck out your gizzards with a bucket milker.”
I don't know if he is putting on a country accent because we’re surrounded by his family dairy farm, or because his patience is running thin. Either way, I'm not giving in. Regan trusts me enough she fell asleep on my chest. I'm not giving that up for anything.
“I swear to you, I won’t drop her. Look at her; she’s not the least bit worried.”
For the first time the past twenty minutes, Hayden does as requested. The deep groove between his blond brows smooths when he notices Regan’s unmarred face. She is so blissfully unaware of the volatile situation surrounding her, she is without a single wrinkle or blemish. She is so peaceful, if it weren’t for Hayden’s demand that we move her into her room, I wouldn’t budge an inch. I’d keep her nestled in my chest for eternity.
Rather than allow Hayden to make his own decision, Sally forces one on him. “Hayden, get your ass inside before the workers see you making a fool of yourself. He’s a grown man, for crying out loud. He won’t drop her like you did when she was a baby.”
My quiet snickers cause Regan to stir in my arms. I shush her as if she is a baby I've only just laid down for a nap, praying she remains asleep. I love Regan's sass, and her sharp tongue is even more fire-sparking than her beautiful body, but I also like being the man she can rely on when things get tough. She is struggling tonight, so I want to be there for her.
Hayden’s words are delivered via a sneer. “If you drop her—”
“I won’t. I swear to god, I’ll never let her go.” I lower my eyes to his chin, praying he’ll miss the possessiveness in my tone. From the way his bottom lip curls into a snarl, I doubt it.
With Hayden guiding my every move, I curl out of his truck and start the sixteen stair climb to Regan's childhood bedroom. Her room is as expected; there are just more dairy cow ornaments than I imagined. It is glamorous, pink, and smells like fresh flowers. . . and perhaps a hint of cow dung?
I'm reasonably sure the last reference is compliments of Hayden. He was so pedantic about directing my every step, he refused to remove his boots—much to Sally's dismay.
"On the left," Hayden instructs me when I move toward Regan's bed on the back wall of her room. "She prefers sleeping on the left so she can see the meadow when she wakes."
Keeping my eyeroll on the down-low, I head for the left side of Regan's bed. Her pasty white skin looks vivid against the hot pink sheets covering her double mattress. Even her platinum blonde hair appears more intense.
I let out a little chuckle when I notice her feet dangle off the edge of her bed.
Hayden doesn’t find my laughter appealing. “Something funny, boy?”
I’m saved from explaining myself when Sally enters Regan’s room. “Leave the man alone, Hayden. Regan wouldn’t have invited him into our home if he was up to no good.”
She taps my shoulder in support before dropping her focus to Regan. “She’ll be out until morning, so why don’t you two go and grab some supper and a shower. It smells like horse manure in here.”
