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I put my hand on my heart. “I swear on Pop’s grave.”
Her bright expression turned to one of sympathy. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
The stab of sensation her laugh had caused in my chest was different than this one. This slash hurt as fresh as the day he’d been killed.
I flicked my chin in acknowledgment. There was nothing to say. He wasn’t coming back. Maybe one day the pain would subside to a dull ache.
“I should’ve—”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “There was nothing you could’ve done. I didn’t deserve it anyway.”
She looked down in quiet acceptance. “Were you there?”
I swallowed as if the thick smoke filled the room all over again. “I carried him out of the building.” I could feel the weight of him in my arms. The fear and adrenaline as I fought my way out of the flames. “He was already gone.”
I'd refused to accept the truth even as they'd put him in the ambulance. I had barely been able to face my brothers, knowing I hadn't done enough to save him. I’d dreaded the moment I'd had to tell Ma that Pop wasn’t coming home.
But it had been my responsibility to break the news to her. Even now, the lead of my footsteps as I'd gone up the front walk and the pit in my stomach was as fresh as it had been then. She’d crumpled in my arms, beat my chest, and screamed that I was a liar. Something I recalled in every nightmare I had of that night. The worst day of my life.
I'd held her for three hours while she’d cried, my guilt only growing stronger with every passing minute.
I drained the rest of my beer and set the empty bottle on the table a little too loudly. It was the stuff of nightmares. I couldn’t stand to think about it. Refused to now.
I stalked around the table to her side. It creaked when I rested against it. I took the bottle from her hands and blindly set it beside me.
I’d disturbed the dogs again, if only temporarily, but they settled quickly.
Beau’s expression turned guarded, wary. It should be. I didn’t know what I was going to do next either. Only that a table distance apart had been too far.
I lifted my arm.
“There might be cameras,” she said quietly.
I dropped it and turned my head away. “Shit.”
For a minute, I’d forgotten about being her secret. If Teague found out, he’d kill me in a slow, torturous death . . . just as I would him if the roles were reversed.
Discreetly, she nudged my foot with hers. I forced myself to look at her. And I didn’t like what I saw.
She was a reminder of the untouchable thing I’d held for a moment, but couldn’t keep. A sucker punch to the face of mistakes I couldn’t fix. How doing the right thing felt so wrong. And the wrong thing . . . I wanted a whole lot more of that.
When she’d said we were done earlier tonight, I should’ve let her walk like she wanted to.
But I couldn’t. Not yet. Especially after sharing a few uncomplicated hours. Where we’d almost felt like friends. Like we’d been years ago. Whether either of us liked it, we weren’t done. Not by a long shot.
Chapter Nineteen
Beau
“Puppies?”
I peered into the giant basket Teague held where tiny little faces were sleeping peacefully. Like they knew they were safe.
“Six,” he said in a hushed tone as he set the basket on the table. “I’ve seen a lot of awful stuff over my career, but this . . .” He shuddered. “My eyes have been opened since I started rescuing dogs with Pepper.”
My brother’s fiancée was pulled over by a giant greyhound, who wasn’t satisfied until she reached her puppies. She was thin, unbearably so, but clearly feisty when it came to these puppies. She stretched her neck to see in the basket and barked when she couldn’t.
Teague pulled two chairs together and moved it to the seats. She sniffed, checking them out until she was satisfied.
