Promised Vow (Promises, Promises #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

SAM

Crying shocked me out of my fitful rest. Lana’s voice came through the thin walls into the living room where I was sleeping on a couch that really wasn’t meant to be slept on.

I groaned and sat up, rubbing my aching back where the couch spring had dug into my muscles all night. Weren’t couches these days supposed to be made with soft memory foam? Not this one, apparently.

Now that I was up, I padded to Lana’s bedroom. It was overcrowded with the baby’s crib taking up half the room, but with Gramps’ house only having two bedrooms—the reason I was sleeping on the couch in the first place—her room was the only place to put it.

Lana was already holding Junior and rocking him to try to lull his cries. She looked energetic for someone who’d been up for most of the night taking care of a baby.

At twenty-eight, I was only four years older than her, but I sure as hell felt—and most likely looked—like shit after the unrestful night.

“How’s Junior?” I asked, walking toward her.

Russell Monroe Junior’s blue eyes were bright with unshed tears as he watched me walk closer. My nephew made a cooing sound that hit straight into my heart as I reached out to feel his cheek.

He wasn’t as warm as last night, which meant his fever had gone down, thankfully. Lana and I had taken turns staying up with Junior last night, but honestly, neither of us got much sleep with how much we were worrying.

“I just took his temperature, and it’s back to normal range,” Lana said with a sigh of relief.

“He’ll be fine after a good feeding,” Gramps said as he strode into the bedroom.

Junior let out a tiny, pitiful cough, almost as if agreeing with his great-granddaddy. Junior might only be a baby, but he was already a certified foodie.

Gramps walked up to Lana and Junior while holding a bandana he’d put sliced aloe flesh into. He loosely wrapped it around Junior’s forehead so that it wasn’t too tight, but enough to keep the aloe in place.

If there was one thing for certain, it was that Russell Monroe thought most problems could be solved with aloe.

Got a scrape on the knee? Slap some fresh aloe guts onto it.

Stomach giving you issues? Freshly squeezed aloe juice will save the day.

Hell, he’d even converted Lana to the benefits of aloe, and now all she used for her skincare was the moisturizer she made from the aloe vera plants Gramps grew in the backyard.

Considering her skin was as smooth as a baby’s, despite having slept less than I had these past six months, they were probably onto something.

Meanwhile, another angry pimple had made its evil way onto my chin this morning. I should ask Lana to make me some of that miracle aloe moisturizer, too.

“I’ll make a bottle,” Lana said. She handed Junior to Gramps and then left the room.

Gramps made cooing noises at Junior, who giggled back and waved his little arms in front of him to touch his favorite person’s face.

It was so unfair that my sister practically ensured Gramps was Junior’s favorite. They shared the same name, after all!

She should have named him Sam Junior, then I would for sure be the favorite.

Although it was true that if anyone deserved to have a baby named after them, it was our grandpa.

Gramps raised us on his own after our parents passed away in a car accident. Lana had been just a baby when it had happened, and I’d been too young to remember them, so the only parental figure we knew was Gramps.

Growing up, we didn’t have all the luxuries in the world—Gramps being a single parent and all—but he’d showered us with so much love that we never once doubted that we were very much wanted.

Only after the giggles from Gramps blowing raspberries on Junior’s belly faded had the fickle boy turned my way to look at me. He reached out his hands, asking for hugs in the way only babies could, and my heart became a whole mess of goo.

All the springs poking into my ribs and the late nights were worth making sure this precious little boy was happy and healthy.

As I accepted him from Gramps, I said, “I might not be your favorite person…” Then added in a baby voice, “But who’s your favorite unckie? Yes, that’s right. I’m your favorite unckie!”

“You’re his only uncle,” Lana said, returning to her room and completely ruining the nice moment we were having. I handed the baby back to Gramps so he could feed Junior. It was his favorite thing to do.

I followed him to the wooden rocking chair that was nestled in the corner of the room.

The chair was older than I was. The dark wood had faded from the years of use.

Gramps told me he’d made the rocking chair for Gran when my dad was born. It was made from a rosewood tree Gramps had cut down himself—‘ before the street lights started monitoring you ,’ as Gramps would say.

On the backrest of the rocking chair was an intricate carving of daisies growing in the weeds and above that was a giant sun with a smiling face. According to Gramps, the sun represented the light of their life—my dad. The daisy was Gran, which was very much on the nose since Gran’s name was Daisy, and he was the weeds. Gramps liked to joke that even weeds like him could get a beautiful flower like his Daisy.

Gran passed before I was born, but I had fond memories of sitting on Gramps’ lap in this very rocking chair as he told me stories of his flower.

“Your mama is such a killjoy, isn’t she?” I leaned over and cooed to the baby.

Junior’s eyes curved with amusement as he watched me. His mouth never stopped moving as he aggressively sucked on the nipple of the bottle. He was such a greedy little thing for his milk, always chugging it down like someone was going to take it away from him.

I chuckled at how cute he was, but my laugh quickly turned into a groan as a sharp pain thudded the back of my head.

“Ow!”

My body shot up straight. I rubbed the spot that was hit and glared at my little sister.

“That’ll teach you to talk smack about me to my own son,” she said, sticking her tongue at me.

“Whatever happened to ‘ respect your elders ?’” I muttered. I didn’t get a chance to stick my tongue out in revenge before she’d turned away to lay a towel over Gramps’ shoulder.

She took the empty bottle as Grampsrepositioned Junior to burp him. He did slow pats on the baby’s back as he grinned up at us.

“You two still get along so well,” he said. I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Lana and I might bicker and get on each other’s nerves sometimes, but we did love each other.

It’d been Gramps, Lana, and me against the world since forever.

I swung an arm around Lana’s neck and tussled her hair. She jolted back against my chest and sent me a glare that promised evil revenge later.

The top of her head barely hit my chin. Being five-foot-two, Lana was probably the shortest person in town.

Granny Lottie from next door might be an inch shorter than her. But that was more because Granny Lottie was nearing ninety and had shrunk a few inches in her old age.

Though it wasn’t like I could talk. I wasn’t exactly tall either. At five-foot-eight, I definitely wasn’t winning any height contests.

Gramps was about my height too, and from what he’d told me, so was my dad. Our family had been cursed with the short gene, apparently.

Junior had dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. He was the spitting image of Lana as a baby. He had the same gluttonous habits as her, too, though Lana would never admit to that.

I was secretly happy Junior didn’t resemble his bastard of a father. At least looks wise.

If Cade was good for anything, though, it was his six-foot-two height. Hopefully, that was the only thing Junior inherited from him. Always being the shortest boy in class wasn’t a fun experience.

Cade didn’t deserve to have a mini him running around. Not when he’d skipped town after Lana learned she was pregnant with his baby.

“Did you sleep at all last night, Gramps?” Lana asked, patting her brown strands flat again.

Now that she mentioned it, Gramps’ eye bags were more swollen than they usually were. The walls in this house were thin, and the baby was up all night crying, so I was sure he didn’t get much sleep either.

“I’m fine. The older you get, the less sleep you need,” was what he said, but he couldn’t hold back the yawn that escaped him.

I took the baby from Gramps, placed him back into his crib, and removed the aloe bandana so that he could nap. Now that Junior was full, his eyelids were already drooping.

The three of us smiled at each other as we crept out of the bedroom. We usually didn’t try to keep quiet while the baby was sleeping so that he would get used to the noise, but considering Junior had a fitful night’s sleep, we weren’t risking it.

“Gramps, go take a nap. My workload isn’t too heavy this morning, so I’ll keep an eye on Junior,” I said and turned Gramps around and guided him to his room.

He tried to fight me, saying that I was probably just as tired, but I wasn’t taking no for an answer. When he finally retreated into his room, I followed my nose to the kitchen.

Bacon sizzled in the pan as Lana plated perfectly browned toast. She placed the finished bacon on a plate covered in a paper towel, then used the bacon grease left in the pan to make scrambled eggs.

I made some much-needed coffee for both of us. The first sip of the dark liquid breathed life back into me. I was tempted to chug the rest of it, but thankfully Lana came over with the finished eggs before I could.

The last time I chugged coffee on an empty stomach, I’d graced the toilet with my throbbing asshole all morning long.

Lana portioned the eggs out for us, then made another plate she set aside.

“Make sure Gramps eats when he wakes, will ya?” she said as she covered the plate and placed it in the microwave.

I grunted in reply, mouth already stuffed full of food. My thinking was if I could fill my belly with sustenance, then I could drown myself in coffee without upsetting my stomach.

Lana took a slow sip of her coffee while she watched me fork the last of the eggs from my plate.

“What?” I asked with a mouthful of food.

She wrinkled her nose at my action, sighed, then finally picked up her own fork. “Still haven’t managed to learn how to not eat like a slob, I see.”

I flicked a bacon crumb at her. It landed smack dab on her right cheek.

She shot me an unamused glare and wiped the crumb off with a napkin.

Gramps had drilled manners into both of us, but as Lana’s brother, it was my right to look like a slob in front of her.

“What time are you meeting up with your real estate agent?” she asked suddenly.

“Two. That’ll give Gramps plenty of time to rest before taking over my shift,” I joked, but Lana didn’t laugh.

She nibbled on her bottom lip. It was what she did whenever she was anxious or worried, and I just knew I’d said the wrong thing.

I went around the table to her side and wrapped her in a hug.

“Sorry, it was a terrible joke. You know I love watching my nephew,” I murmured as I gently stroked her hair in comfort. Sometimes I really had a way of putting my foot in my mouth.

Lana sniffled, then shook her head.

“I know. I think it’s just the stress of the fever and everything that’s going on that’s getting to me.” She pulled out from my hug to meet my eye. “But I hope you know how grateful I am to you. For packing up your whole life to move back and help me with Junior. For being there when it’s not your job.”

“Hey, now. Taking care of you is my job,” I interrupted her and gently flicked her forehead. “You better not be leaving me unemployed now; not when I’ve been doing this job for more than half of my life.”

That got a chuckle out of her.

“You really are the best brother in the world, you know that?”

“Of course I am. I’m also the best uncle in the world too, and don’t you ever forget it,” I said with my chest puffed out.

She laughed again and pulled me into a quick hug. “My last client today is at one, so I should be back sometime in the afternoon. Sasha’s letting me leave early today since she knows Junior isn’t feeling well.”

“She’s a good boss,” I said.

Lana nodded. “And Sam?” she started. I raised my eyebrow for her to continue. “If this place is a good fit, you should take it. You don’t have to worry about us here.”

“What? Are you tired of seeing my face?” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious. I’m sure after sleeping in the living room for the past five months, you probably want a space of your own.”

She didn’t mention that before Junior was born, I was sharing our childhood bedroom with her.

When Lana was old enough to know what privacy was, Gramps had built a wooden folding screen that’d been placed in the middle of the room to give us a semblance of privacy in our halves of the room.

We’d had a ton of fun making those paper cup telephones and chatting through the tiny cup like we weren’t inside the same room.

Plus, the cups let us whisper to each other without Gramps realizing we were up way past bedtime. Lana and I would always chat until one of us had nodded off.

I smiled at the memory. Lana and I had been inseparable as kids.

The folding screen had been put into storage in the basement when I went off to college, where it now stayed in retirement.

“Besides, I’m sure even after you move out, I’ll still be seeing your mug all the time,” she said with a glint in her eye.

“That’s right. You’re never getting rid of me,” I said with a laugh, then squeezed her into a tight hug that had her groaning.

“All right, stop trying to squish me to death and let me get to work,” Lana said, giving me hard pats on my back to release her.

I did as she requested and let her go. She quickly got ready as I cleaned up from breakfast, then was out the door with a wave of a hand.

Heading back into her room, I went to check on Junior one more time before starting work. He was deep in dreamland, lips moving like he was still suckling the bottle in his sleep.

I laughed and pressed my hand to his cheek to make sure he wasn’t too hot before forcing myself to leave the room. I needed to get some work done before this afternoon, and with a baby around, I had to take advantage of every single second he was sleeping while I could.