Chapter Fifteen #2
Cuffing his sleeves, he thudded down the stairs, carpet muffling his steps.
In the living room, the aquarium hummed, and his parents’ low conversation murmured in the kitchen.
Hell, this place was quiet. Between Ralph and Holly, he’d grown accustomed to joyful noise, and the funereal hush here crawled over him.
His kids would be allowed to be noisy in the house, for sure.
Rosetta slinked about his ankles and jumped up on the couch while he snagged his phone from the coffee table.
The tabby had concealed herself while Ralph was in the house — she fascinated him and he bothered her.
Colt rubbed an absent caress behind her pointed ears, earning a deep purr, his gaze dipping over Holly’s text.
He ignored the three more from Wally but thumbed open Holly’s thread.
This is taking forever and my next group isn’t here yet
I’ll be late for sure
Are you ignoring me?
Where ARE you
Sheesh, she was pushy. A smile tugged at his mouth. He remained raw all over, and he still had to get through seeing Tick . . . but she’d be here, steadying him.
And D would be here.
He blew out a breath, thumbing out a reply. I was in the shower
Instantaneous bubbles popped up. I hate I missed that
Pausing, he considered the possibilities. They hadn’t shared a shower yet, but she had a serious setup in her master bath, multiple heads and settings, a large cubicle with a bench and—
Later. Your place
A sweating emoji with a lascivious smile popped up on his screen, drawing a rusty chuckle from his throat. Crazy how his happiness with her could coexist with the sheer dread coiled up in his gut.
Hell, he loved her. That’s why she brightened up every dark place in him, why he lived for that smile and her clumsy enthusiasm and the dorky-ass way she snorted when she laughed too hard.
He’d always loved those parts of her, the same way he adored her smart mouth and argumentative nature and the way compassion dripped off her.
He just loved her, and now he could let himself believe she’d be there at the end of everything.
So he could trust his daddy and he could trust her. They saw him as he was, still cared about him, and the world wasn’t going to end when Tick looked straight through him again.
“Colt?” Sue’s soft voice dragged him from the frozen moments of realization.
“Yes, ma’am?” He pitched his tone even and steady, trying to sound normal and not like he stood on the precipice of life-altering discovery.
“Come help your daddy slice up this meat.”
He swallowed a snort. Like D would let him help carve — Colt might do something crazy like cut with the grain. “Yes, ma’am.”
Helping turned out to mean laying out meat on platters and wrapping them in plastic wrap and listening to Mama fuss about the kitchen, making sure every dish was perfect.
Filled with a surge of affection, Colt paused in putting the wrap away. She was in her absolute element, making things pretty and perfect for people. She had a lot more in common with Aunt Lenora than he figured either one realized.
The house filled up pretty quickly, Aunt Lenora showing up first to help, followed by Grandma and Grandaddy with Uncle Bill and Kevin in tow. Del and Chuck arrived shortly after their mama, with all the noise and movement that came with their kids.
Once Gene had engulfed him in a back-pounding hug and looked hard at his face, Colt shook hands with Uncle Bill and Kevin, who held onto him a moment, grasping his biceps. “Congratulations on that new job, son.”
“Thank you.” He didn’t have to force a grin. “Sure you don’t want me to call you Uncle Kevin?”
“I sure don’t.” Kevin waved away the teasing. “Uncle Kevin sounds like a fussy old man.”
Chuck snickered on his way to the couch, newest baby draped over his shoulder, blinking at the world. “Uncle Kevin is a fussy old man.”
Kevin shot him an affectionate glare and leaned in toward Colt. “That smart mouth is why I’m leaving you everything in my will.”
That was an old joke, too, since they all knew Kev planned to leave everything to the museum, but Colt laughed anyway.
He could almost relax tonight.
“You can’t just come on from the airport?” Aunt Lenora’s quiet voice carried from the dining room, where she’d stepped out of the bustling kitchen to take a call. “Well, okay. Please hurry, Lamar. And be careful.”
Colt shook his head. Just like his own mama — don’t be late, but don’t kill your fool self trying to be on time. So apparently, Lamar was running late, and Colt was kinda okay with that. He didn’t mind putting off this uncomfortable little reunion at all.
It was inevitable, though, and he sat in the living room, chatting with his cousins while D and his uncles talked with Grandaddy, his nerves stretching tauter and his stomach knotting harder with each second.
The back door swung open with its distinctive swoosh, followed by a little girl’s excited chatter and Tick’s deep voice.
Colt closed his eyes.
A steadying hand landed between his shoulders, and he lifted his head, gaze tangling with Daddy’s. At his feet, Ralph perked up when Anna and Lyssa bolted through to the kitchen. With an excited bark, he took off after them, little-girl giggles following from the other room once he arrived.
He concentrated on breathing, panic clawing at his chest and throat, eyes on the carpet, pressing his fingers together until his skin stretched so he had something to ground himself.
The trio of little girls scampered into the room, Lyssa grabbing up the stuffed animal she’d been toting around since they arrived.
“Isn’t he cute?” She shoved the toy at Eleanor with anxious glee, her whole face lit up like the stuffed belly with its embedded stars. “And he’s scrunchy.”
Scrunchy? Was that even a word? Unwilling humor pulled at his lips. Barb and Del were both so chill — where had that innate enthusiasm come from?
Eleanor’s dark eyes widened — my Lord, she looked like Tick, down to her dimples, so she was definitely his — and she laughed, a rich little chortle. “He’s adorable.”
Hell, she was adorable, some kind of accent or lilt to her pronunciation, with those expansive hand gestures, her dark braid swinging.
She was real. Tick had a daughter. A wife. An entire life Colt would never be privy to.
The loss and grief grabbed his throat, tried to choke him.
“Papa Gene!” She caught sight of Grandaddy and raced to him, throwing her arms about his neck, his full chuckle hanging in the room. Propping on his knee, she waved her hands. “We took Zeb to the park yesterday and the big squirrel was out and then Zeb . . .”
Where did those gestures come from? In another life, well, Tick would still have been the brother he never had and maybe Colt would know those waving hands came from her mama or a grandma or . . .
He bit the inside of his lip, hard.
Tick strode through from the kitchen, and the breath Colt held whooshed out on a silent, incredulous laugh.
They had on the same damn clothes, a white shirt with the sleeves cuffed, Levis, loafers.
They’d done it before, inadvertently shown up wearing the same thing, but tonight, after so long, with his emotions so near the surface instead of being locked down .
. . Lord, why did their similarities break his heart?
Tick had to pass the couch to reach the chair where his little girl chattered away at Gene. He paused to shake Daddy’s hand, as well as his brothers’, tweaking Chuck’s baby’s toes along the way. Colt rubbed both palms down his jeans and pushed to his feet, extending his right hand.
His cousin fixed his gaze beyond Colt’s shoulder on the aquarium and graced him with a handshake so brief it might as well not have existed. Passing his damp, trembling hand over his thigh once more, Colt sank down next to Daddy.
So, yeah. Nothing new here, and he wanted to bawl all over again.
Grandaddy’s face glowed with joy and welcome. “What you know good, son?”
“It feels good to be home.” Hands under her arms, Tick hefted his daughter to his hip, deep, smooth voice resonating through Colt’s whole body. Gene rose to hug them both, patting Tick’s jaw in a familiar gesture.
“Papa Gene.” With a dramatic whisper, Eleanor framed Grandaddy’s face with both hands and leaned in. Tick steadied her with his palm over her torso. “I’m going to have a little sister.”
“Well, then, won’t that be a hoot?” Gene palmed her head and kissed her forehead. A slight smile on his thin lips, he tilted his head toward the kitchen. “Maybe you should go share that news with your grandma, baby girl.”
“Yes.” She wriggled to be free, and once Tick swung her down, she sprinted for the kitchen. Gene slapped his arm.
“Better get in there, boy.”
“Yeah.” Tick dragged out the syllable, loping after his daughter with a rueful shake of his head. He was going to be a father again, and Colt would miss out on all that with him, too.
Colt closed his eyes, gripping his knees. This forgiving himself shit was just that – fucking bullshit – because Tick would never forgive him, never give him the time of day again. He couldn’t get back what he’d thrown away, so what was the point?
A firm grip wrapped around his own hand atop his knee, steadying his shaking fingers. He lifted his lashes to find D’s hand covering his, and he rotated his wrist, hanging on to Daddy as hard as he could. D spread his other hand over their joined ones, giving Colt’s arm a little shake.
The back door swooshed open, Holly’s sparkling voice filling up all the dark spaces in him. His muscles bunched, his entire being ready to push up from the couch, sweep her up, bury his aching heart in the softness of her embrace.