“It’s organic.”
“So are these eggs, fresh from the hen house. Chickens, too, but not any of my girls.”
I’m not hungry, but I take the plate and remind myself I’ve been hungry, and food is fuel. “I appreciate it.”
He sniffs the air, “Might wanna air this place out. Smells like the winter’s sun, surrounding someone who lets you get close enough to notice, you’re lucky. Smells like someone who survived and kept her grace.”
I feel my entire body tense, and he clearly sees it.
He leans against the door and crosses his arms, dropping his voice to a whisper, “She doesn’t want anyone to know yet, and it’s for a reason I will not go into. But you in here pouting, after taking care of one of my girls last night, hiding that from all of them tells me you’ve earned it.”
He now has my attention.
“That scent, I’ve known it for years. Sofie smells like her mother did last time I saw her, but with a little more armor.”
I sit up straighter, “You knew her mother?”
He nods, “I’m sure you know Patsy and I couldn’t have kids, and wanted them desperately.”
“While others have them and don’t deserve them.”
He nods. “My Patsy volunteered at Harbor House.”
“Where her mother worked.”
He shakes his head. “That’s the story spun by her father and his company. She lived on Waverly with us. The second teen we took in. We had Marcy, who ran away when she got pregnant, lost track of her, but searched for her for a very long time. Maggie healed what broke inside Patsy,” he shakes his head, “and me. A week after she was eighteen, she married Sofie’sdad, who asked me for her hand, and I refused to give him my blessing.”
“Is he a bad man?”
“Maybe? But he loved Maggie. Loved Sofie too.” He forces a small smile and then pulls a photo out of his pocket, walks over to me, and tosses it on the bed. “This was Marcy.”
“That’s…” I shake my head because it looks like Claudia, exactly like her.
“We have no proof yet, and until then, Claudia and Deacon need nothing else on their plate.”
He hands me another photo, and there is no doubt who they are, either.
“That’s a beautiful picture. A beautiful family.”
“When Maggie died, he made it impossible to see Sofie. As Patsy’s husband, it was my duty and privilege to try to make it seem okay, make her okay.”
“You’re a good man.”
“I’m an asshole kid. One who will fuck up your life if you hurt her, but gave you top secret information because I trust my gut. My gut tells me you care for her even though you don’t want to. Your past and what you have been through tell me that you may be the only one who will be strategic while keeping your eye on the prize, which is Sofie Hale,” he rolls his eyes, “Fairfax. You get through all the hell she may give you, while you fall into a love you will never be able to fall out of. You give her the loyalty and love she deserves, and she will give you so much more. Hell, my Patsy’s love just kept growing. They’re proof.”
“You do not want me for her.”
“Why?”
“Those I love suffer or die.”
When he chuckles, I am equally as confused as I am angry. “We all suffer, and we all die one day. It’s who stands beside us when we’re here hurting, and who remembers us carries us withthem when we are gone, are those we should never give up a fucking moment that he can get when we’re here.”
He picks up the photos, “Sent the boys on their way to the thing with Deacon, Claudia, and Savannah. Told them I had to shit and would catch up.” He turns and opens the door. “Gonna be a minute. Let me know if I’m calling a car or if you’re going to give me a ride.”
“I wasn’t invited.”
He calls back to me, “Crashed a party once, met my wife. Now eat that damn food and let’s roll.”
