Page 100 of Trusting a Warrior

“Geo?” Lani’s soft voice cut through the roaring in his ears, and before he knew it, she was in his arms. He clutched her tightly, her comforting warmth, the feel of her for some reason keeping him together, from splintering apart.

Pulling her into the shadows next to the house, he threaded his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back to kiss her, softly, gently.

“Mmm.” Linking her arms around his neck, she relaxed against him. “This is nice.” With one last nip to his lower lip, she whispered, “You okay?”

He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo, her subtle perfume. “No,” he croaked. He told her about his conversation with Ari as she stroked his nape and listened quietly.

“I’m not a trained therapist,” he fretted. “What was I thinking?”

“Hmm. That you were someone who loved her dad, too. Maybe what she needed in that moment wasn’t necessarily a therapist, but a friend.”

“Uncle Geo.” He let out a ragged sigh. “That’s what they called me, the girls. And all I’ve done is let them down.”

He appreciated when Lani didn’t rush in with a bunch of empty reassurances that he probably wouldn’t believe anyway. All she said was, “Well, you’re here now.”

For a while anyway. Not long enough.

He could see the truth of it on her face reflected back at him, but she only cupped his cheek and gave him one more soft kiss. “You’re here now,” she repeated, then took his hand and led him back around the house. After letting go with a gentle squeeze, she headed toward the group on the porch, the skirt of her dress swishing around her thighs.

With a lovesick sigh, Geo turned to climb the ladder and get to work cleaning out the rain gutters. Wrist deep in wet leaves and other trash, he was startled several minutes later when a frosty can of Coke landed on the roof not far from him. A tousled blond head popped up at the top of the ladder.

“Thought you might be thirsty,” Ari said.

“Um...” He craned his neck and desperately sought out Renae, who was watching them. She nodded imperceptibly at him from her seat on the porch.

“You want it or not?” Ari’s voice now held a note of belligerence, so he hastily stripped off his work gloves and extended her a helping hand.

“Of course I want it,” he said, hovering until she was safely seated on the sloping roof, her knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them.

He pried open the top of the can and got a spray of Coke in the face for his trouble, not even caring about the cold stickiness when he heard her give the faintest of giggles.

“No, really, thanks,” he said drily, taking a huge swallow as her shoulders shook with silent laughter.

When the Coke was gone, Geo crumpled up the can, tossed it to the ground below, and waited.

“Did you cry when my dad died?”

Her abrupt question startled him, and for a long moment he was at a loss for words.

Be honest. Just be honest. It’s what you wanted back then, remember?

“No,” he said softly. “I didn’t. Did you?”

She rested her forehead on her knees. “No.”

“Why, sweetie?”

Ari shrugged. “Dunno. How come you didn’t?”

Pursing his lips, he leaned back on his hands. “I think it’s because I was afraid if I started, I’d never stop. I really miss your dad a lot.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Her voice quavered a bit as she toyed with one frayed shoelace. “My mom and sister cry all the time, too, so I thought maybe—”

His heart ached. “You thought maybe you should try to be strong?”

“Mm-hmm. My dad used to tell me that when he left. ‘Be strong for Mom and Ava. I’m counting on you, Love Bug.’”

A sudden bolt of anger toward Cade made Geo clench his fists. How dare he put that burden on her shoulders and then check himself out?