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A pang of guilt ripples through me, her message coming through loud and clear. My brother is gone, and I abandoned them.
I regret my words. Regret looking back at Liam even more. I left him too. He doesn’t have to come out and tell me he hates me or still holds my choices over me. It seems even time doesn’t mend old wounds.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—you loved baking. I just assumed you always—”
“No worries, honey. Now that you’re home, we can bring back some old traditions. Your father wouldn’t mind some unhealthy cookin’. You know, his doctor said—”
“My girl! She finally returns!” Dad bellows from the storage room before he even appears. Just the sound of his voice has my throat locking.
“Dad,” I whisper, running into his embrace. I snuggle into his burly chest, loving the infinite smell of sawdust.
“Glad you’re home, sweet girl. Your mother’s been up my rear. Hopefully, you can keep her company while I get some peace and quiet.”
I laugh into his chest and pull away, swiping at the wetness under my lids. “Yeah, right. You love it when she nags you. It keeps you on your toes.”
“It keeps me insane! You should see what she’s feeding me nowadays. Not even the squirrels will eat the leftovers.”
“Henry, it’s for your own good.”
“Woman, if you want what’s good for me, cook me a damn steak. Win my heart over again with some starch and a damn pie. Otherwise, I’m gonna be forced to go out searchin’ for someone who’s gonna feed me the way a man should be fed.”
I slap my dad on the shoulder. “Oh, please. You wouldn’t survive a day without Mom looking after you.” A tender smile breaches my face at the way my parents gaze at one another. True love, forty years in the making. I gaze over at Liam, knowing it’s a mistake the second I do. Once upon a time, he looked at me like I was his world. His happily ever after. Now, he looks at me like I’m the villain. A walking bad memory. If we were both honest, it wasn’t all on me. He had his faults. He made hurtful decisions too. But I refuse to go down that road again of who hurt who the worst.
Dad speaks up, snapping the live wire of emotions crackling between us. “Well, time is money. I have to get these parts delivered to the Johnsons. Bill’s car battery went caput, and his jumper cables are shot, so he needs me to drive it on by. Liam, can you still help in the back while I’m gone? I’m sure Holly can—”
“I… actually, I’m gonna head back home. Something’s not agreeing with me.” I throw a sharp glance at Liam then turn to Mom. “Wanna maybe get some cookies in the oven? I can really use something sweet right now.”
Take that.
Mom smiles and gives Dad a kiss. “Don’t be home too late. We’re making Holly’s favorite tonight.”
My eyes light up. “Chicken fried steak with loads of mashed potatoes and homemade gravy?”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to use a pre-made gravy. That’s like committing a sin. Everything must be from scratch.”
Amen to that. Knowing that’s also Liam’s favorite, I turn to him while I grab Mom’s arm. “Can’t wait to eat every. Last. Bite. Won’t be a lick leftover.” Because I’m a child, I stick my nose up and smile, pulling my mom past him and my dad. Feeling like I just won the annual turkey trot race, I skip out, my mom locked on my side.
I’m still basking in my win as I set the table for dinner. Liam may hate me. He may even have a right to, but he’s not innocent either. We both made choices that night. We both said horrible things. We both walked away. If he thinks he’s going to break me down with those searing eyes and new and improved beast-mode body, he has another thing coming.
I put the plates down and adjust the silverware.
Where did that body come from anyway? You’d have to be blind not to be affected by him. He’s always knocked me off my axis, but now? I should have known it was him the second he touched me. That magnetic attraction had always been too strong between us. Instead of admitting that’s why his touch almost set my panties on fire, and he still affects me, I remind myself he’s a jerk and said awful things to me and—
“Hey, Mom, you gave me too many plates.”
I can count, right? Three people, four plates. Mom sticks her head out of the kitchen. “No, honey, it’s right. We have a guest coming for dinner.”
The doorbell rings, and my eyes shoot to the front door just as my dad pops up from the basement. “I’ll get it.”
