Chapter 20
The backyard patio desperately needed comfy furniture, perhaps in shades of light blue or seafoam green.
The treated cherry wood looked inviting but was unforgiving.
Maybe sitting without sufficient support for my back and ass was a self-inflicted punishment for not shutting down Dr. Tom before he left.
Or maybe the mindless task of observing the backyard cleared the path for certain thoughts I’d pushed to the far corner of my mind. These unavoidable notions had the potential to snowball into panicked anxiety—something I’d been desperate to stop.
What if I had to give Trey half of my inheritance?
What if Dad regressed and couldn’t be left alone?
What if—
A wet tongue rasped against my face, startling me.
Malibu yipped, then put her two front paws on my thighs and pushed her head to my chest, demanding scratches.
I complied, cooing to the sweet girl and scanning the yard for her burly, tattooed owner.
Not seeing him, I stood and turned while she panted and whined.
“Where’s your daddy, pretty girl? Should we get some water and then go find him? Come on, princess, let’s go to the kitchen. I’m pretty sure there are still some treats I picked up for Tito and Port on the counter.”
I opened the glass door leading to the kitchen just as Maverick’s voice rang across the yard. Malibu ignored him and trotted inside, but I waited until he took the steps two at a time, stopping beside me on the porch.
“How’d she get over here?” His eyes were hard, his hands clenched into fists by his side as his body almost vibrated with intensity, and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to touch him.
Something was clearly wrong, but I didn’t know if my presence was welcome or nothing more than a hindrance.
“I’m not sure,” I said, shrugging. “I thought I’d give her some water, and perhaps treats, before walking her back over to your mom’s.”
“No need to bother with that now. Plus, she’s on natural, specialty treats. Not that chemical filled nonsense from Piggly Wiggly.”
“I know that. Bev has the pups on the same ones, which Publix carries, by the way. Now, come on inside and get your girl.” I crossed my arms and turned, stepping into the kitchen and turning back to face him, but he wasn’t following.
He stood frozen, like his feet were encased in cement. Malibu had made herself at home, lying beside the table with her tail thumping on the tile floor and her head tilted like she understood the word treat.
“I— I’d rather not.”
“Okay. Is everything okay? Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“With me? Nothing. Everything. I just want to get Malibu and get out of here. Please.” He pressed both hands against the glass door frame and closed his eyes, tapping his foot on the floor.
I pursed my lips and crossed my arms before shaking my head and stepping toward his pup.
“Right. Of course,” I said, refusing to show how much his presence affected me. “Hey, pretty girl. Come see your daddy.”
Malibu lifted her head and looked at us both before making her decision and lying back down.
“Perhaps not.”
“I can’t deal with this today,” he said, running a hand through his hair and still not stepping inside the house. “I just can’t. I can’t do this.”
“I don’t understand. What can’t you do?”
The emotions that played across his face were too quick for me to follow, but I saw flashes of guilt and yearning before he closed off his expression and sighed. The noise seemed amplified in the quiet kitchen, and he nodded, gazing at me with a sudden, intense focus.
“Just for one day—one goddamned day. I don’t want to be the person who fixes everything. I can’t be that person right now.”
“Oh.” A quiet understanding passed between us, something that could only come from being the oldest child.
Having that innate responsibility of knowing that everything fell on your shoulders.
Because you were the reliable one. The trustworthy one.
The one who always answered the phone. The one who always had a solution.
“Then don’t. For today, Maverick, don’t be that person. Just be you.”
“Oh, like it’s so easy?” he scoffed, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck.
If I looked closer, I’d have seen the way his fingers trembled, caught the light sheen of sweat that coated his forehead. But I couldn’t get past his tone. The absolute longing in his voice for a lifeline. For someone to take the lead and offer him the world.
I could— I would— I needed to be that person for him.
“It is. You have to let yourself try.” I reached forward, holding out my hand to him, my intention clear. He had to make the choice to grasp it—or not. Either way, the lifeline was extended as the silence grew deafening, and I felt my pulse roar in my ears.
My eyes closed and my head dropped to my chest, feeling the wave of rejection as it washed over me. The sting burned like I’d rubbed lemon juice on a paper cut, but at least I knew for sure what we shared was nothing more than a fluke.
I clenched my fist and withdrew, opening my eyes to find him a breath away from my face. His hands found my waist, pushing me further into the kitchen. And without breaking contact, he followed.