Page 64 of Silver Brewer

Please come back to me.

All my love,

Giant

I’d read it so many times I have it memorized, yet I still haven’t responded. A new email came every day after the first. He told me more about his girls, about their lives, and then he told me about the brewery. I cried each time I received one.

“Uncle Frank.” I address the only father figure I’d known since childhood. My mother’s brother has been a pillar of support, but it doesn’t mean I’m close to him. Dayna is his angel. I’m his disappointment.

He motions for me to sit in one of the two chairs across from him. His large modern desk of glass on a metal frame is cold like his demeanor toward me.

“You’ve been different these last few days,” he begins, folding his hands over something on his desk. “More focused. More driven.” I’ve thrown myself into the job I finally admitted I hate as a means of distraction. Determined to get any commission and convince the foster system I can be a parent has become my new goal. Seeing Giant with his children opened my eyes to one thing—I don’t want to miss out on the things I want most in life, even if I do them in a slightly backward manner.

“We’d like to send you to Tennessee to look at a property. Securing it will make up for the loss in Blue Ridge.”

Nothing in the world can make up for the loss I feel from that town. I miss Giant like crazy, but I’m too stubborn to give in and respond to him. He lied to me. He kept his children from me. He kept me from them.

“What are the specs?” I halfheartedly listen as my uncle drones on, knowing I’ll review the material later before attending the meeting. My thoughts drift to Giant and almost hitting him with my car. His sweaty, broad back. His muscular, sculpted chest. The hair leading lower.

“Olivet,” my uncle snaps. “Are you listening?”

“When do I leave?”

“Tomorrow.” It’s a Thursday.

“I’m good to go.” I stand and reach for the folder I assume holds the necessary information. It’s a small area in the Smoky Mountains, not dissimilar to Blue Ridge. It’s also only an hour or so from it.

Country roads…take me to the place I belong.

26

Emails and phone tales

[Giant]

Eleven fucking days.

This woman is torturing me, yet I know she’s reading my emails. Knowing her, she can’t possibly ignore them even if she’s ignoring me.

We had the longest ride of my life when I drove her to Atlanta later that fateful Sunday. Silence heavier than a ton of snow from the mountain filled my truck. I didn’t know what to say, and I admired her conviction not to speak. Not a word.

Eventually, nearing the airport, I pulled over and parked.

“Say something,” I begged.

“I don’t know what to say.” She hugged her purse to her chest the entire hour ride as if it was a life preserver holding her afloat. “Lying is the one thing I can’t handle, Giant.”

That ex of hers was a fucking idiot to cheat, which is a lie, and I’ve done something similar. Only my heart is hers.

“I want to see you again.”

“I don’t know,” she replied, her voice falling lower. Her lip trembled, and she bit the corner. I reached for her chin, forcing her to look over at me.

“You’re so far away,” I whispered. She kept her distance, and I didn’t like it. For a woman who followed my lead or made me go with the flow, her stiff demeanor rattled me. “I don’t want you to leave.”

It wasn’t fair of me to ask her to stay. Even after all I learned.

Charlie helped me investigate adoptions in Georgia. I wanted to ask Letty if she’d consider moving here and adopting here, so we could be closer and see each other more often. It was a selfish thought. Asking her to give up her home and job was a lot, and then…my girls. I didn’t mean to hide them. I meant what I said. I didn’t want to share her. Once Letty met them, my girls would want more of her, like me, but I didn’t want to give her up to them. Not yet.