Would he?
“Oh, so you’re just that uninterested in the whole thing, huh?” Brian leans back, smirking like an ass.
“Why would I be interested in who my brother dates?” Something in me hardens over the small ache in my chest. I don’t have time for this shit.
“Well, he’s your brother. But I thought you might be more interested in who your gorgeous new tenant who’s sweet with your girls and I’m pretty sure you have a crush on dates.”
My gaze cuts to him. “Shut it.”
He shrugs again. “I mean, it’s notmesaying they’re dating. It’s the gents. And they have been known to spread gossip that isn’t true. You could always ask her.”
He waits a beat like he thinks I’ll respond, then mutters something about me being a stubborn ass and pats the desk twice before leaving.
He doesn’t leave me in peace, though, because he peeks his head around the doorframe and says, “Apparently, they were hugging at May’s this morning.”
He disappears again before I can say anything, which I won’t do even if I know he wants a response.
What am I supposed to do with that?
Do I feel mildly gutted that Sam was out withFinn? Yes. Admittedly, yes. I’ve been getting stupid ideas lodged in my thick skull despite all signs pointing to her being pretty damn resistant to anything.
But maybe it’s just anything with me.
I get it. She’s not the first woman to look at my situation and lose interest. How could I expect her to want to sign up for dating a man with two little girls when a woman I was meant to get engaged to opted out right after everything happened?
Granted, that’s not being fair to Michelle. I didn’t give our relationship its due and then expected her to jump aboard a sinking ship. She was smart, and not unfeeling, to get out of it. Still, I don’t expect anyone else to see the shipwreck and want to buddy up.
I don’t. I learned my lesson. Hence why I haven’t done more than step out on an obligatory blind date once or twice—and by “obligatory,” I mean I was forced by my mother in one instance and my sister in another—and it went no further.
The fact that I feel a little something for Sam, that I’m drawn to her despite where we started out… it doesn’t matter. Inadmissible here.
It must be all down to seeing everyone prancing off with their perfect partners this morning after practice. It’s information overload, the power of suggestion, and my own weak-willed mindset tripping me up here.
And if Sam has to choose someone else right in front of my face, it might as well be Finn. He might drive me up the wall with his antics, but he’s a good man at heart. He’s gotall of that sunny disposition I don’t, which has to appeal to the woman.
“This is not a problem.” The words come out quietly with the forced determination I don’t yet feel, but will eventually.
I choose what creates a barrier in my life, what I can and can’t get over. Right now, I need to focus on the handful of cases we haven’t wrapped up in way too long, and I need to finish this presentation prep.
So I do. I put my head down and focus on work until Brian knocks on my door and takes a pointed look at his watch. It’s five and I promised the girls I’d only be here for a few hours after soccer.
Another ball I’m dropping, and it kills me to be reminded of it. But I’m trying, and my folks took Lily and Poppy for the afternoon. By the time I get to their house, it’s fifteen after and they’re all snuggled into the overstuffed couch in the living room to watch a movie. A giant bowl of popcorn sits on Lily’s lap and Poppy’s shoving a handful in her mouth, then burrowing under a blanket and resting her head on my mom’s shoulder.
My heart clutches.This is why I came back.This is what I never could’ve given them if I’d stayed active duty and tried to make that lifestyle work.
I may have failed them initially—I may have absolutely bombed the biggest test of my life when they were placed in my arms the night their parents died and everything in me saidI can’t do this, but I got back on track, didn’t I?
And I came home to the family I’d neglected. So now they had Pops and Lily, and I could be here for them all.
"Welcome to stay, or you can come back and get them after dinner.”
My dad’s gaze passes over me and I cringe at what he’s seeing.
I neglected to shave this morning before I went to soccer, and the clothes I changed into after showering were wrinkled after sitting in the dryer overnight. I haven’t been sleeping well, and I haven’t been doing the things I know I need to in order to maintain my well-being.
“You alright, son?”
It’s the gentle tone that has me feeling young and small and completely ill-prepared to deal with my own life.
