31. Cole
COLE
Iturn and lean through the front seats to gently wake Tommy. He stirs a moment, his sleepy eyes opening slowly before he jolts as if it to wonder where the fuck he is.
“Hey, you’re okay, bud,” I assure him with a whisper. “We’re home.”
His face scrunches up like he’s in pain, but he doesn’t complain, swallowing hard and looking sideways at his sister who’s still watching him closely, like she ain’t ready to let him out of her sight just yet.
“Are you okay, Tommy?” Billie asks gently. “You can cuddle Curly if you want.”
Tommy forces a smile and reaches out, touching her arm. “I’m okay, sis.”
“Mama Joy’s here, and”—I glance out the window where the two women are talking lowly—“well, I wouldn’t be surprised if she done made y’all somethin’ good to eat.”
“I’m hungry,” Billie declares, as if she’s only just realized.
I smirk. “Me too, Miss Billie.”
Billie makes quick work of pushing open her door and jumping down, and when it’s just the two of us, I turn back to Tom, meeting his eyes.
“Sure you’re okay, pal?” I quirk a brow. “Ain’t no shame in sayin’ no.”
He huffs out a breath. “I dunno. It was just… It was really scary. I thought we were gonna—” He stops himself, pressing his lips together like even saying the word is too much.
I nod, noticing the tears well in his eyes. “You’re safe, buddy.”
Tom’s door pulls open with a soft click, Clara appearing in the opening, her smile uncertain as she looks from Tom, to me and back again.
“You okay, baby?” she asks softly, brushing his floppy hair from his eyes.
Tom looks from me to his mama and offers her the hint of a smile. “I’m okay.”
As soon as we walk inside, as expected, the house smells like a goddamn dream, Mama Joy rushing in ahead and disappearing through the doorway to the kitchen.
“I brought some barbecue from the turnout,” she calls back to us. “And I made a few things.”
As I follow Clara and the kids into the kitchen, I can’t help but laugh at the sight.
A few things? Aluminum trays line the limited counter space, full of brisket, ribs, sausage, and wings.
There’s a bowl of Mama Joy’s famous potato salad, green beans, and a plate full of warm biscuits, fresh out the oven.
There’s enough to feed a small army and thank Christ too, because I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I caught a whiff.
I ain’t eaten since breakfast and my stomach is growling like a wild boar.
“Mama Joy!” Clara says on a gasp. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”
“Oh, baby, that’s what I’m here for.” Mama Joy waves a hand. “Now y’all sit and eat. I made Tommy’s favorite sweet tea.” She ruffles Tom’s hair on her way to the fridge and Clara glances at me like she’s not quite sure what to think.
I sidle up next to her and place my hand on her waist, leaning in close enough to press a reassuring kiss to her temple.
After we’re all done eating, I know Clara is exhausted.
Billie had a mini-meltdown when she finally realized after all the drama, she’d missed the turnout.
Apparently she’d been looking forward to it for days, desperate to pet a real horse.
I promised her she could stop by the ranch any time she wants and I can introduce her to Soldier which helped to settle her enough so that Clara could get her into the tub while Mama Joy and I cleaned up the kitchen.
Now, as they walk out of the bathroom, Clara carrying a sleepy Billie dressed in her pjs, I turn and rest against the counter watching on as Billie says, “I wanna sleep with Tommy.”
“Aw, sweetie, your brother’s already asleep. And his arm is really sore,” Clara says. “I don’t want you to accidentally roll onto him in the middle of the night. But you can keep watch over him from your bed.”
“But I want to keep watch over him in his bed.” Billie’s bottom lip pops out, tears brimming in her eyes. I know she’s just over-tired, but seeing Clara struggling, on the verge of losing whatever cool she’s barely hanging onto, I feel a need in my gut to try and make everything better.
“You want me to read you your bedtime story, Miss Billie?” I ask, stepping up.
“I want Daddy,” Billie whines, burying her face into the crook of her mama’s neck, which is exactly when I see all the blood drain from Clara’s face. She wasn’t expecting that, and I can tell it hit her hard.
Before I can try again, Mama Joy steps in, holding her arms out. “How about Mama Joy, baby?”
“I’ve got it!” Clara snaps unexpectedly, and I see Mama Joy flinch beside me.
When Clara’s eyes glance in my direction I hold my hands up in surrender and take a step back, letting her walk past me and through the doorway. When I hear the click of the bedroom door I release a breath, turning to Mama Joy to find a soft, reassuring smile on her face.
“She’s just tired, baby,” she assures me, squeezing my arm. “Tired and no doubt an emotional wreck after what happened today.”
I nod, tugging on the back of my neck as I look around the kitchen for nothing in particular. “Yeah, I know.” I manage a tight smile.
Mama Joy walks back to the sink to finish the last of the dishes, and I move in next to her, grabbing the dish towel to dry them off.
“I’ve never seen you like this with a woman before,” she says after a silent beat, and when I look at her from the corner of my eye, I don’t miss the smile that ghosts her lips as she stares down into the bubbles. “You in love, baby?”
I snort incredulously. “No.”
“Coulda fooled me,” she murmurs.
I shake my head.
“I’ve seen that look before.”
“Oh yeah? What look would that be?” I sigh, drying off the salad bowl.
“The look in your eye when you was watchin’ her just now.”
I roll my eyes, huffing another snort.
“It’s the same look I saw it in Dallas’ eye the first time he bought Emily home for Christmas.
” She offers me a pointed look then, and the way she talks about her son, my best friend, and his now wife, I feel a sudden lump form in the back of my throat because fuck, I think she might be right.
I am in love with Clara. Hell, I’d be a goddamn fool to even try and deny it.
As if she knows exactly what I’m thinking, Mama Joy smiles smugly, looking back down into the sink. “Your secret’s safe with me, baby.”
The front door hinges creak behind me and I turn to look over my shoulder, finding Clara pad tentatively out onto the porch, freshly showered, dressed in sleep shorts and an oversized T-shirt, hands wringing nervously in front of her.
When she came out after getting Billie to sleep, Mama Joy had left.
I could see the regret written over her face, and I knew she felt bad, like somehow she’d chased her off with the way she snapped earlier.
I assured her Mama Joy was absolutely fine—which she was—but then Clara started crying and my heart just about tore in two.
I held her against my chest for a long moment, letting her cry until she had no tears left, and then I took her into the bathroom, started the water in the shower until the small space was full of steam.
I ordered her to have a nice, long shower, promising that I’d be here when she got out.
And, here I am. Because I ain’t leavin’ her. Not now. Not ever.
“C’mere, baby,” I whisper, patting one hand against my thigh and holding the other out for her.
She takes my proffered hand and steps down, taking a seat. I wrap my arm around her waist, gazing up at her beautiful face, searching her eyes that reflect the muted light of the stars.
“Talk to me,” I say softly.
Her throat works with a swallow and she looks down to where I’m drawing deft circles over the soft skin on her thigh.
“I was so scared today. After we stopped in that ditch, the car was so silent, so still. I was… terrified—” A sob bubbles up the back of her throat and she wipes her nose with the back of her hand, still staring down as I continue tracing circles over her skin.
“I know it was just a busted tire, or whatever… and it could’ve been way worse”—she shakes her head—“but in that moment, I was so scared that I’d lost them because those kids are my whole life.”
“Hey, shhh.” I pull her closer, cupping her head as she cries again, softly against my shoulder, her body racking gently with each sob. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“And then Billie said she wants her daddy and”—she hiccups—“I don’t know, that just really hurt my feelings.”
“Aw, baby,” I whisper into her hair. “Billie didn’t mean what she said, you know that.”
Sniffing, Clara pulls back again, swiping at the tears trailing her cheeks.
“I know. It’s just been a lot. The accident.
The ambulance. The hospital. And then you coming there to get us.
” She looks at me then, searching my eyes.
“No one has ever done anything like that for me before. A few years ago, when Billie was still a baby, Tommy got really sick and I had to take him to the hospital. They thought he had meningococcal, and we were there for two days.”
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
“When I asked Cain why he didn’t come to the hospital, he’d just shrugged and said… not my kid.” She scoffs, shaking her head as more tears brim in her eyes.
Anger roils through me, searing my veins, my molars grinding to the point of pain.
Clara stares at me, her eyes flitting between mine.
“You didn’t hesitate. God, your friend even gave you her truck to drive.
” She huffs exasperatedly, shaking her head again.
“Mama Joy left her event and came here… I’ve never had this in my life, and I feel so bad for snapping because I truly am so grateful, it was…
just… a lot.” She breaks down again, pulling up the neck of her T-shirt and wiping her tears, burying her face.
“Clara?” I clear my throat, shifting in my seat and squeezing my arm around her a little tighter, forcing her to look at me because I need her to see me, to really see me. And to know that I’m here. That I’m really here and I ain’t going nowhere.
Sniffling again, Clara lifts her chin and meets my eyes. “Sorry.”
“First of all,” I begin, “what’d I tell you about apologizin’ to me.”
She sniffs a small laugh, her lips curling up despite her tears.
“Secondly, baby—” I steady her with a serious look, cupping her cheek while I work through exactly what I know I need to tell her without scaring her the fuck off.
“I’m here. Always. And I know you don’t want or necessarily need the help, but I’m gonna help you anyway.
Because that’s what people do for those who they…
care about.” I swallow hard at the word.
Care. But when I see her eyes flare a touch, I wonder if she knows what I’m not saying, I wonder if maybe she might even feel it too.
I lower my chin, looking deeper into her eyes.
“Because I do, baby,” I whisper. “I… I care about you.”
Clara wraps her arms around my neck, resting her forehead against mine and closing her eyes, releasing a soft breath. “I… care about you, too.”
“You do?”
Her eyes open and they look straight into mine. “I do.”
The breath I exhale shudders with the anxious uncertainty I’ve been holding in, and my whole body sags.
Because I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive she loves me too, even if neither of us can say the word just yet.
But then, when her lips meet mine, her tongue edging into my mouth in a kiss so soft, so sweet, so easy, as she melts into me, kissing me with everything she has while holding onto me like she’s never going to let me go, I know then, without a sliver of a doubt, that she feels it too.