Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
HAYDEN
My mother’s driveway is already full.
Cars spill onto the street in both directions, like the whole damn town decided to show up today.
Over the past year, our family dinners have grown in size, like my mother’s quietly been rebuilding something piece by piece. At first, it was just me, my kids, and my siblings.
Then Beckham got married, Haley and her daughter Maggie folding seamlessly into the mix.
Jude met Abbey, and even without a ring, it’s obvious she’s not going anywhere.
Finn finally stopped lying to himself about being in love with his best friend, and now Genevieve’s pregnant, glowing, and somehow still laughing at his terrible jokes.
My immediate family may have shrunk after Cora died, but my extended family grew. And it seems to keep growing.
I step out of my SUV, helping Presley down before slipping around to the other side to get Jemmy out of his car seat.
The moment I open the front door to my childhood home, I’m assaulted with a wall of sound. Laughter ricochets off the ceiling as someone argues about football in the living room. The smell of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh bread hangs thick in the air.
Jemmy squirms in my hold and I set him down. The second I do, he takes off running, Presley close behind.
“Slow down,” I call, even though it’s useless.
They don’t even look back. They barrel down the hallway into their favorite room in the house.
The toy room.
I kick the front door closed behind me and take in the familiar surroundings. It’s too big for one person, and I’ve told my mom that more than once. Suggested maybe it’s time to downsize into something smaller now that we’ve all moved out.
But she always shuts me down. Says she wants us to know we can always come home. That this place still belongs to all of us.
I think the real reason is simpler.
This is the house she bought with my dad. Where they made memories.
She isn’t ready to let go of those just yet.
Unlike me, who couldn’t get out of Chicago fast enough. Who couldn’t breathe in the house Cora and I shared without feeling like every room was accusing me of failing her.
I draw in a deep breath, then head through the foyer and into the living room, grateful for the distraction of being around my family.
Especially after last night.
After kissing Rowan.
I’d spent most of the night convincing myself it was a mistake.
That I was out of my mind with grief and I crossed a line I shouldn’t have. One I won’t cross again.
But that didn’t stop me from replaying it in my mind all night long.
Her warmth.
The way she fit against me like she belonged there.
The soft, surprised sound she made when my mouth found hers.
It’s a blessing in disguise she has the day off. It’s given me space to figure out the best way to approach the situation when I see her next.
Although a part of me was disappointed when I didn’t see her sitting on the porch this morning, bundled up against the cold like she usually is.
I say my hellos to my siblings and their spouses, accepting hugs, claps on the shoulder, familiar grins.
Well, most of them are familiar.
There’s one face I can’t quite place.
“You remember Joshua, right?” Finn says as he releases me from his hug, as if able to read my thoughts. “Dylan and Claire’s friend.”
Joshua stands, pulling himself to his full height, making me do a double take.
The Joshua I remember was a scrawny little boy who always hung around my sister and her best friend, Claire. That’s not the case anymore.
“Of course.” I extend my hand toward him. “How are you?”
“Doing well. Thank you.”
“Dylan mentioned you’re working at Holley Ridge with Claire.”
“Sure am. Although not technically with Claire. She’s in charge of marketing. I’m the head groundskeeper there now.”
“What does that entail?”
“Landscaping and maintenance. Making sure the entire place looks pretty and runs smoothly.”
I nod. That checks out. From what I remember, he always liked getting his hands dirty and fixing things that broke.
“If you’ll excuse me, my mother will murder me if I don’t go say hello.”
Joshua laughs. “Fair enough.”
I follow the sound of my mom’s voice toward the kitchen.
At one point, she did all the cooking herself. Now Dylan’s taken over most of it, experimenting with recipes she wants to test out for her private chef business.
I’ve never been happier to be a guinea pig.
“Hey, Ma,” I start, turning the corner. “Sorry I’m late. We had—”
I stop short.
Because it’s not only my mother and Dylan in the kitchen.
Rowan is here, too.
She’s wearing a soft green sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose knot, light makeup on her face, along with a hint of gloss on her lips.
Her fucking lips.
I can’t stop staring at them, especially now that I know how they feel.
How they taste.
What I wouldn’t give to feel them again. To taste them again. To feel her body move against mine as her breaths intermingled with mine.
But I can’t. I won’t. She’s my nanny. Nothing more.
“I assume Presley and Jemmy went straight to the playroom.” Mom’s voice forces me to look away from Rowan.
I move toward the refrigerator and grab a beer, even though I’d prefer something a bit stronger right now.
Something that burns.
“Of course they did.”
“I hope you don’t mind I invited Rowan,” she remarks as I flick the top off the bottle and take a large gulp. “I ran into her at the cemetery this morning.”
I nearly spit out my beer, fighting to force it down my throat. “The cemetery?” I look at Rowan. “Why were you at the cemetery?”
“I was walking a shelter dog. We were just wandering around and stumbled across it.”
“Bark Twain?” I ask, remembering the dog she was walking during our first meeting that resulted in me wearing my coffee.
“Thankfully, he’s been adopted.” She smiles, and I have to push down the warmth seeping through me from how damn beautiful she is whenever she does.
“Then who was it today? Bilbo Waggins? Winnie the Pooch?”
She tilts her head. “You remember the names?”
“It’s hard to forget names like that,” I say carefully.
What I don’t say is I remember everything about Rowan.
The way she hums under her breath when she’s distracted.
The way she dances when she doesn’t think anyone’s watching.
The exact curve of her mouth when she smiles, especially when she’s trying not to.
I force my eyes away from her, aware of my mother’s analytical stare scrutinizing everything I do or say.
“Do you need help with anything, Ma?”
“We’ve got it all under control.” She flashes me a conniving grin, entirely too pleased.
“Okay.”
I turn to leave, but as I do, my gaze snags on Rowan again. Our eyes meet for half a second, long enough for something to spark between us.
I quickly look away and hurry out of the kitchen, not breathing until I’m safe in the living room with my brothers.
But all I can think about is Rowan.
So much for spending a few hours with my family to distract me from her.
And the kiss I can’t stop thinking about.