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I’m quiet for a minute. It’s already a problem. I can feel how she’s worming her way into my life, distracting me from my duties, pulling my attention from places it really needs to be. I’m not working, I’m not fighting, I’m barely getting the job done. Things are moving still, but for how much longer?
“She’s hiding something from me,” I say after a while. “I just don’t know what it is yet.”
“Something bad?” he asks. “I can see if Ash knows.”
“No, don’t. I don’t want to push Keely away more than I already have.”
“You came on too strong.”
“It’s a family trait, I think.”
Carson laughs. “You have no idea.”
Another silence. This time, it’s companionable, not strained. Finally, I hear the girls coming back. “Listen, I’m having Sunday dinners with Mom. You should come.”
He looks at me. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”
“Good.”
Ash enters first, followed by Keely. They’re laughing about something, but their laughter dies down as they look at us. Ash puts a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Well?” she asks. “You two all better?”
“Nobody’s dead,” Carson grunts. “That’s a start.”
“I guess that’s the best I could hope for.” Ash presses her lips together. “I want you two to stop fighting and start being brothers again. No more acting like children. Understood?”
“We’re not children,” I say, glancing at Keely. She’s grinning at me.
“Sounds like something a child would say,” she says.
I sigh, rubbing my face, but the girls return to their seats, and dinner resumes.
This time, without the strained silence. And it’s actually kind of nice. I can picture this happening more often—the wives getting together, maybe with our children running around. I can imagine how this life might feel, and I like it.
Only Keely’s still not looking at me, and whatever’s bothering her isn’t going away.
Which means I have to find a way to fix it.
Chapter32
Nolan
Isurprise her the next morning with breakfast in bed. She’s in that sleepy stage, still only half-conscious, when I wheel in a cart with eggs, bacon, toast, jam, coffee, milk, yogurt and a bowl of cereal. It’s a bit overkill, but I’m going for shock and awe. “Here you are, my darling,” I say, setting it up beside the bed.
Fortunately, she chose to sleep in our room the night before.
“What’s all this?” She sits up straight, rubbing her face.
“Food.” I sit down on the edge of the bed, buttering her toast. “You should eat.”
“Uh,” she says, blinking at me, then squinting at the clock. “It’s like six in the morning. I think I’d rather sleep for another hour.”
“You need food,” I say, pouring her some coffee. “Come on, you barely eat.”
“What’s with the sudden interest in how much I’m eating?” She narrows her eyes, glaring at me. “If I weren’t so tired, I’d be pretty pissed right now.”
“I’ve always been interested,” I say, putting a hand on her thigh, trying to be calming. “I’m interested in everything you do.”
“That’s not coming off the way you think.” She brushes my hand away. “I’m not hungry.” Then she rolls over, turning her back to me.
