“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 Kevinisa 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 steppedout 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 aswell 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.”
