Page 102 of His Brown-Eyed Girl

Addy smiled at Charlotte before looking back up at him. “You don’t play fair, do you?”

Lucas shook his head. “She can go with me to the races, but-”

“No,” Addy interrupted, bending down to take Charlotte’s hand, “She’ll be fine here until your parents arrive.”

Charlotte beamed and held up her backpack. “Look what I got—the Creampie movie! You can watch it with me.”

“Oh, goodie, and I think Aunt Flora has some cookies in the kitchen.” Addy tugged Charlotte’s ponytail. The endearing gesture made Lucas’s stomach hurt.

Charlotte skipped into the house, clacking and stumbling, while calling for Aunt Flora.

“Thank you,” Lucas said, finding sincerity among the churning in his gut. God, she looked so beautiful… even in a pair of old sweats, her hair pulled back in a pink ribbon.

“You’re welcome,” she said, dropping her eyes.

“Okay, I gotta run. Don’t want Michael to be late for his date with Hannah.”

Addy lifted her eyebrows. “He’s got a date? He’s only thirteen.”

“Not a date-date. It’s a dance, um, a supervised dance.”

“Good for him,” Addy said, starting to close the door before Lucas reached the steps. “Tell Chris I wish him luck.”

Lucas raised a hand in acknowledgement but said nothing more. His pride still felt bruised, and it felt awkward between them.

Lucas climbed into the truck with two kids full of adrenaline and backed out of the drive, reaching for his cell to check his parents’ ETA. His mom hadn’t texted him. “Here, text Gran and tell her the neighbor has Charlotte.”

“Dude, we’re so late,” Michael said clicking his seatbelt in place and grabbing Lucas’s phone. “Hannah’s meeting me there in twenty minutes, and it’s going to take at least fifteen to get to Charlie’s house.”

“Hold on to your cajones cause I got this,” Lucas said, gunning the truck, shooting out into the narrow street, nearly hitting another truck parked across from his brother’s house. “Shit.”

“Oooh,” Chris said from the backseat. “That’s a really bad word.”

“Sorry, I’ll put ten bucks in the swear jar,” Lucas said, putting the truck in Drive and heading toward Claiborne. He needed to avoid I-10 but somehow manage to get to the Crescent City Connection. Of course, the race wouldhaveto be on the West Bank.

“We don’t have a swear jar,” Chris said.

“Well, you probably need one.” Lucas pushed the call button on his phone. “I know your Dad well enough to know you could make dime if you got one.”

Michael laughed at that one before leaving a message on his grandmother’s cell phone, telling her where to find Charlotte. Lucas stomped on the accelerator and did what he’d been doing for the past almost three weeks—ran himself ragged to accommodate his brother’s children.

Tomorrow, Ben would come home, and he’d already prepared the children for seeing their father and his injury, even though Charlotte hadn’t quite understood. But all three were looking forward to being reunited with their parents.

But was Lucas ready to face his past?

Didn’t matter because tomorrow he faced his brother and the woman who had broken his heart when she betrayed him.

Of course, he’d never expected to fall in love a second time, but Addy had proven his hypothesis about love false. It wasn’t about choosing to love. That shit just happened. And when it didn’t work out, it left a man bitter.

Not just bitter, but half-broken with no expectation of being whole for the near future. But he could heal. He’d been hurt before and found comfort in his work.

He’d make his peace with Ben, go back to Texas, and try to forget Addy Toussant.

Unfortunately, Aunt Flora had taken the cookies she’d baked to her friends at Crescent Garden that afternoon for a rousing game of bingo which left Addy trying to console a sad little moppet.

“Well, we could make our own,” Addy said as Charlotte sat at the kitchen table looking like someone had taken all her toys. She swung her little legs, causing one of her heeled slippers to clatter onto the floor.

Aunt Flora poured some milk into the little girl’s cup and spread her hands. “I’m so sorry, pumpkin. I think I have some fig cookies in the pantry.”

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