He steps toward me and pulls me into a hug. We’re just to the side of the barn. People could see us, but it doesn’t matter anymore. The two people we wanted to protect more than anything have had their hearts broken already.
I close my eyes, holding on to Cody, burying my head in his chest. I don’t cry. If I start, I won’t stop. I just cling to him as if he could absorb the reality of our circumstances.
I tilt my head up. He looks so handsome tonight, but his brow is now furrowed with concern. The weight of Jace’s reaction worn in every wrinkle.
He doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he gently pats my back and gives me one last squeeze. Then he steps away.
It feels like goodbye.
His voice is rough with emotion when he says, “We need to give this space for McKenna's big day.” He waves a finger between us. “Let everyone adjust to the idea.”
His lips thin and he stuffs his hands into his pockets. I wrap my arms around myself and nod.
He’s right—of course he is.
I head to my truck, not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.
Then I drive home, my tears blurring my vision.
I don’t go to my cabin. Something pulls me into the main house.
Mom’s there, putting on a kettle of water. Boone and Lottie are at her feet.
My hands are literally shaking when I approach her and collapse into her arms, tears streaming down my face.
“Hey,” Mom says softly. “What’s going on?”
“Everything!” I say through my tears. “I ruined everything!”
I haven’t been this emotional since I was thirteen.
“I just threw a bomb on the most precious day of my best friend’s life!”
Lottie stands and resettles. I release a stuttering breath.
Mom holds me at arm’s length and searches my face. “Let’s have tea. You can tell me all about it. I’m sure it’s not as bad as all this.”
Jace walks in, sees me and Mom, and turns around, letting the door slam behind him.
Mom’s brow draws in, her face etched with confusion. “Is it a full moon tonight?”
“Worse,” I say, taking the mug of tea she hands me and following her to the kitchen table.
The dogs trot behind us. Lottie settles at my feet and I reach down and run my hand through her soft fur.
“Okay,” Mom says softly. “Tell me everything.”
I do. From the barn kiss to the truck bed meetups to Cody comforting me when she called about Dad. I tell her everything right up to the moment in the Lawsons’ hallway when Jace walked in on us and lost his temper.
I leave out all the kisses we shared and the fact that Cody actually spent the night in my cabin.
“So, we kissed and then Jace rounded the corner and yelled at us.”
She shakes her head, a soft, compassionate expression on her face.
“When you were born, he was only two and a half. One day you were taking your nap—at the same time you always napped. Jace should have been napping too. Heaven knows I needed a breather back then. Naptime was it. Anyway, I heard a noise in your room, so I walked in and Jace was standing on the crib railing, just looking down at you. The look in his eyes—well, I can’t quite describe it any other way but to say, love. He loved you so much, even then.” She laughs softly. “When he saw me standing in the doorway, he turned and said. ‘Stay back, Mama. Carli’s sleeping.’” She smiles. “Even then, he had the big brother instinct. You were his to protect.”
I smile, wiping a tear from my cheek.
