It was ridiculous how much pride I felt. Ridiculous at how gooey he made me feel inside. It was also scary how much I wanted him.
“What’s for dessert?” he asked, spearing a piece of chicken. “Something sweet?” The way his eyes grazed over me, I was almost certain that I would offer myself up with cream.
“I think all that teaching us to ride has built up your appetite.”
“Did you enjoy it?” he asked, pouring us both a glass of water. “Getting back on a horse.”
I didn’t have to think about it. “I did. It reminded me of Dad.”
Gunner’s brows raised. “Really? Tell me about it.”
“I had a sudden memory of him leading me around on my pony and getting me to sit up, just like you did.” I felt a little pain in my chest, one I hadn’t felt about Dad in a long time. My grief was always for Mom and the pain she’d gone through before she died and the years that we’d missed out on. “I was so young when Dad went,” I continued. “I barely knew him to miss him. Sometimes, though, like today I remember little things that make me sad that we didn’t have him around for longer. Mom always told me stories about him and the kind of man he was, and I think I’d have liked him. I think I’d have driven him nuts, too.”
Gunner smirked. “You mean all the boys hanging around you would have.”
“I didn’t have that many boys hanging around,” I argued. “Probably a fraction of the girls that you had.”
He shrugged. “A few.” When I smirked, he threw his hands in the air. “Look, there were three of us boys living here. All of us handsome and strong so no wonder they came here in bus loads.”
The laugh burst from my stomach and barked out loudly. “Bus loads?”
He relaxed back in his chair and contemplated me as he chewed. “You have the dirtiest laugh I’ve ever heard. Who do you get that from?”
“My mom. She laughed a lot. Even when she was ill. You know she had Queen’s Another One Bites the Dust played at her funeral, and we all had to wear yellow.”
Gunner laughed and shook his head. “You’re joking about the song?”
“No, I’m not. And we had party poppers at the wake afterwards.” I sighed at the weirdly happy memory.
“A bit different from my mom’s. That was a real sad affair. Dad sat in the corner wailing, which turned out to be a big fat lie.” His jaw went tight, and his nostrils flared. “Stupid, lying bastard. He was having an affair,” he explained. “We also couldn’t stop Wilder from crying. Poor kid was devastated. And,” he sighed, “life didn’t get much better until Nash and Lily started dating and Lily brought some much needed laughter to the house. She also spoiled Wilder.”
“Like she does now,” I joked.
“Just like she does now. Of course, when she left Nash left for college and Wild and I were left here with Dad. Not that he was around much. We tried to make it feel like home, but we were two young kids. You don’t really think about warm dinners, comfy cushions and filling a house with laughter when you’re that age.”
My throat itched as tears ebbed at my lashes. The pain of losing their mom must have still been fresh. “So, your dad basically left a sixteen year old and a thirteen year old alone?”
“That’s about the size of it. Felicia kept an eye on us and made sure we were fed, but most of the time it was just meand Wilder, until Nash came home.” He laughed emptily. “His college career was short to say the least.”
I knew from Lily that Nash had been destined for professional football, but a bad injury during practice a few months into college had put paid to that.
“Did it feel better when he came home?” I asked, a forkful of pasta paused mid-air.
“Some. It was good to have him back, but he was so fucking sad it was unbearable.” He took a sip of water and shook his head, like he was trying to dismiss the memories in there. “I didn’t think he’d ever get over losing Lily and his career but then there was Bertie.” His smile was blinding and more feelings wound their way around my heart, like a vine. “Then the laughter came back and even more when Lily came home. Nash is like our barometer, you know. He’s happy the rest of the house is happy.”
“Because he’s the eldest?”
“Maybe, or maybe because he’s the boss.” He laughed heartily and went back to his food.
As I watched him eat it struck me that I liked being there with him. Just sitting there eating and chatting like it was the most normal thing in the world.
The living room fire had burned low, casting the room in amber shadows. What had begun as lingering kisses on the sofa were starting to deepen as our bodies shifted closer to each other with each passing moment.
I felt Gunner’s hands at my waist, purposefully sliding beneath my sweater, tracing the curve of my spine. The warmthof his palms against my bare skin sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with cold.
“How long do we have?” I whispered, stretching my neck, silently urging him to put his mouth on the sensitive skin.
“Hmm?”
