43. Eli
Eli
It felt good to be back at work and with the crew. I miss them and the routine, but it was hard as hell being away from Wren . . . and Kendra.
I picked up Wren from my mom’s house on the way home, and she insisted that I come in so she could cook me a big celebration breakfast for making it through my first work shift as a dad.
She melted over the cute gift the guys got for Wren, put her in it even though the fit was a bit big, and then took about a hundred pictures of her—including lots with me too, holding Wren while I was still in my navy-blue work uniform.
Honestly, I didn’t even fight her on it because the more pictures I have of Wren and with Wren the better.
She’s happily babbling in her car seat as I drive down our shady street, finally bursting with fall colors, and I swing my truck into our driveway.
Why the fuck is Keller Shore standing on my front porch? And why the fuck does he have his hands on my fucking woman?
Kendra and Keller are on the front porch and her face is cupped in his hands; he’s wiping a tear from her face, and it looks like he wants to fucking kiss her.
I. Am. Going. To. Murder. Him.
Slamming my truck into park, I kill the engine, get out, grab Wren’s baby carrier, where she’s oblivious to my world imploding and still making happy baby sounds.
“You better back the fuck up right now, Shore!” I bark out, stomping across the yard and up the steps, setting Wren’s carrier down, crowding into Keller’s space, then immediately do a double take.
“Hey,” Kendra starts.
“Who the fuck are you?” I demand to know, because this man looks remarkably like Keller from a distance, but up close I can tell I was mistaken.
Sticking out a hand, grinning at me as if I’m not going to rip him limb from limb, the guy says, “Easton Shore . . . Keller’s younger and much more handsome brother.” Then the fucker winks at Kendra.
I growl.
“Eli.” Kendra tries to step in front of me, but I don’t allow it.
I cross my arms over my chest, ignoring Easton’s hand that was just touching Kendra and say, “Want to tell me why the hell you are here and why you were just touching my woman?”
Easton smiles at Kendra and glances back at me.
“I called him about my house remodel, Eli. Easton is a very talented contractor.” Kendra points to the work truck parked in front of her own house that I failed to notice in my blind rage. It’s dark blue and has an East Shore Construction logo in white along the side, ladder rack on the top.
“I’m going to help Kendra reclaim her house, right?” Easton sweetly directs his questions to her, and she reflects a kind, real smile back to him, making my stomach sour.
“Thought I was going to do that for you?”
“Oh, do you work construction? She told me she wasn’t happy with the contractor that she was planning on using, so she called me.” Easton crosses his arms, staring back at me, tension building between us.
Kendra, feeling the volcano about to erupt, finally pushes her tiny body in the middle of us, shoving a hand at each of our chests, her soft-casted left one landing with a thump above my heart.
“Okay, you two testosterone-fueled baboons, stop! I am the one in charge of my fu—reaking house!” She manages a much better job curbing her mouth in front of Wren than I just did.
“I want Easton to be in charge of fixing it, that is why I called him. Eli, you can help out if you can act like a grown a—um, man, not a caveman. You’ve always been amazing at construction projects, and I assume that hasn’t changed over the years? ” Kendra looks at me pleadingly.
I stiffly nod my head in agreement.
“Great! Easton, I will see you next week like we planned?”
“Sure thing, Kendra. I look forward to it.” I can tell he wants to lean down and kiss her cheek goodbye but thinks better of it and energetically bounces down the porch steps. “See ya around, Eli,” he calls over his shoulder.
Kendra waves him off with a kind smile as Easton drives away, then spins to me and yells, “What was that?”
“What?” I try to feign innocence, bending down, unclipping Wren from her seat, and scooping her into my arms. Maybe Wren’s adorableness will make me look better in Kendra’s eyes? Baby magic and all that, right?
“You acted like a total jerk, and Easton was just trying to comfort me! I asked him to come see the cabin, planned on giving him a tour so he could walk through with me and talk about my remodel plans, but I, I couldn’t even step inside—again.
He graciously took my keys and walked the space alone while I waited right here crying.
” Her eyes are filling rapidly with tears again.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I should have been here for this. Why didn’t you wait for me to be here?” Wren starts fussing in my arms.
“No, don’t. That isn’t the point, Eli. Easton talked me through the plans, and I was emotional, understandably so .
. . What you saw was him being a good friend, kind, comforting me, and you overreacted.
You also have no right. I’m not yours.” She spins away from me and goes inside, her words feeling like a kick right in the chest.
“Wait, Kendra! Come back. Where are you going?” I rush after her, following through the house into the kitchen where I find her wiping tears and preparing a bottle for my daughter. “Kendra . . .”
“It’s Wren’s nap time, and that is her fussy noise she makes when she’s starting to get hangry. Whatever we need can wait, Wren comes first.” Kendra plops a bottle in the warmer on the counter and puts a hand on her hip, like she expects me to argue with her.
Striding over to her, I wrap my hand around the back of Kendra’s neck and bend down to her, placing my forehead to hers. “You sure as fuck feel like mine, Kendra, and I am going to prove it to you. Mark my words.”