Stormi’s eyes widened, clearly as surprised as I was. “You will?”
My daughter was very reserved, quiet and unsure around people. Stormi obviously had made an impression on her. Maybe someone needing her help was just what she needed.
“Sure,” Bre said a bit more hesitantly then, holding her dog in one arm, her other hanging at her side.
Stormi slipped her palm into Bre’s. “Awesome,” she chirped as she pulled her into the house.
I watched in wonder for a second and then looked at Lennon. “Ready to grab some grub?”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said, unenthusiastically.
I prayed that he would come around and I needed him to know that I believed the group of people surrounding us were great people. ThatincludedHuntley. For some reason I had this odd feeling that maybe it was important that he knew he could especially trust him.
Why? I didn’t know yet. It was just a feeling.
“Huntley, along with everyone else here, are good people,” I found myself saying.
Lennon raised a brow at me. He not only acted older than his sixteen years, he looked it too. Skepticism lined his face, his arms crossed over his already broad chest. It would take time, but just the tiny amount of laughter at Stormi and theway I’d seen his face light up slightly at the sight of our new home by the lake, I had high hopes.
“I trust your judgment, but I will always be looking out for you,” he said, letting his arms fall to his side.
We weren’t big huggers. Me and the kids were more reserved with physical affection, but we communicated it to one another. Hugs came few and far between. It’s not that it never happened and more so between the two kids, or Bre and I when she was upset.
Some may have found that odd or just sad, but we’d all been through something and understood each other. But right then, I found myself moving closer to him, wanting to show him how much he meant to me. Slowly moving in, he gauged my intent. We embraced and I let out a sigh.
He and Bre were meant to be mine.
I was so damn tired.
Everyone was gone and I was more emotionally exhausted than physically.
After we ate, Bronson gave his dad’s older truck to Lennon. I’d never seen my son that excited. He was flabbergasted that someone would do that for him. All the guys had gathered around Lennon as he checked out the vehicle and he looked to be having a genuinely good time soaking in all the male bonding going on.
When I saw Huntley say something to him, I’d held my breath waiting to see what he would do. He laughed at whatever was said and I relaxed.
“Girls like guys with trucks,” Huntley had said to him, Lennon had told me later with a small smirk on his face.
Thinking about my son with a girlfriend…
Yeah, that freaked me out a bit. I think it did him too, but there was something behind his eyes that lit up some and I wondered if there was someone he was thinking of during that conversation.
My son may have been guarded, just like his sister, but one day he’d work through his demons and make a damn good man for any woman in his life if he so chose to have a relationship.
Just because relationships were not for me didn’t mean I didn’t want that one day for my kids.
A certain green-eyed man chose that moment to invade my thoughts as I padded out toward the kitchen.
The house was quiet, kids were asleep, and I decided a small glass of wine was just what I needed to wind down after the day I’d had.
I wasn’t much of a drinker. I’d done too much of that to numb the pain inside me as a teen, but a glass of wine here or there worked for me and wasn’t something I abused or used like I had in the past.
Reaching for the bottle, I noticed a small piece of paper tucked under the edge of the Keurig machine. A frown pinched my face, wondering what the heck that was.
And there went my breathing again. It hitched as I took in the scrolled writing.
Damn that man.
Warrior,
