Maybe that was because the right one was the one I’d left behind all those years ago. We were so young, how would we ever have really known?
You knew, you idiot. And you still left.
Cracking, pops, and bright colorful lights lit up the sky making all the kids squeal with delight. They were clapping their hands screaming for the guys to do more. It was the distraction I needed to pull me from thoughts about the past.
“Bronson, Bronson, did you see that?” Stormi was off her mother’s blanket, barreling toward where I stood behind everyone sitting down. Seconds later she was standing in front of me. She looked to the side of me where Hudson was perched on his father’s shoulders and then she looked back at me with longing.
Before she could even ask or I even thought about asking Lake for permission, I plucked her up into my arms and swung her up onto my shoulders. Stormi giggled with joy and the sound slipped right into my soul.
Lake looked over and her gaze turned wistful before she masked her emotions. All throughout the day her walls would slip and then erect themselves again.
Would I ever be able to make her trust me again? Could I scale her walls and make them crumble so she’d let me in? It was probably too soon to tell, but I sure as hell was going to try. I might be getting ahead of myself, but now that Lake was back in my life, I knew I’d never be able to let her go.
And I sure as fuck wasn’t walking away again.
“Uncle Bronson, put Stormi down, we want her to play with us while we watch the rest of the fireworks,” Peyton, one of the twins said as she patted my leg.
“You do, do you?” I pulled Stormi from my shoulders and planted her feet on the ground.
Stormi stood below me, staring at me with her beautiful milk-chocolate, brown eyes. She tilted her head to the side, her long, light-brown, wavy hair flowing around her. The girl was adorable and her eyes were as expressive as her mother’s. She wanted something.
“Can I call you Uncle Bronson too? I don’t have any uncles. It’s just me and my mom.”
My gaze briefly left her face and peeked over her head toward Lake. It was obvious she’d heard what her daughter had said. Lake’s lips were pressed together in a thin line and a bit of sorrow swam in her eyes. I lifted a brow to ask permission to answer her child’s request and my heart thumped heavily when she nodded.
I brought my attention back to the munchkin in front of me. “You bet you can, sweetheart.”
Stormi’s smile was radiant and she let out a, “Woo hoo!” Then she and Peyton were running off to catch up with the other children who were playing a game of tag as the grande-finale of fireworks lit up the night sky.
I dared another look toward Lake and watched as she chatted with the other ladies. She laughed at something Gemma said and the light, magical sound went straight to my groin. Lake had always had the best laugh.
Still did.
The sound of a child screaming changed my thinking in a split second as I noticed Peyton rushing toward Lake, yelling, “Something’s wrong with Stormi!”
Lake was off the blanket and running in the direction where Stormi lay on the ground. Me and the other adults followed behind her.
She knelt down beside her. “Baby, where’s your inhaler?”
I’d heard them talk about asthma and being careful about how hard she played as the party went on throughout the day. Icouldn't imagine what it was like to have a child and watch them struggle.
Lake turned toward the adults when Stormi didn’t answer. “I have one in my purse in—”
When her daughter started to talk in the middle of Lake’s sentence her head snapped back to Stormi.
“O-on,” Stormi wheezed, struggling to get words out as her chest rattled and her cheeks pinkened, beads of sweat gathering on her brow. “B-Blanket.”
“I’m on it,” I said, loudly.
Flying across the lawn like I was racing the 100-meter sprint in track and field, I got to the blanket and crashed to my knees. Unable to see well, I ran my palms across the fabric, fumbling to find what we desperately needed.
“Found it!” I called out, leaping to my feet and sprinting once more.
Heart racing, I handed the inhaler to Lake and she shook it as she softly instructed her daughter on what to do. I was sure Stormi knew, but she was struggling and Lake’s soothing voice probably helped.
The other children stood around with wide eyes and the parents held worried, concerned expressions as the scene unfolded.
After a couple puffs, Stormi seemed to be breathing easier though her hands trembled, likely from the medication’s effects. She looked around at the kids, her cheeks pinkening further as a look of embarrassment crossed her sweet face, and she bent her head toward her lap.
