Larry jerked his arm out of his brother’s grip. “I’m taking his shift, remember?”
“We can drop you off—”
“I’ll. Walk.” Anger made each of those words hurled stones of sound, but it wasn’t aimed at Jake. No, the real anger was directed at their father. “I need to cool off.”
I got it then. Or at least I had a guess. Larry was as frustrated and angry at Pops as Jake was. He just didn’t handle it as well. Where Jake fought for control, Larry lashed out at the nearest target. It still made him an asshole in my book, but I understood him a bit better. Meanwhile, Pops was still in that happy drunk place. He pushed away from me and started singing. It was a beautiful lullaby in a language I guessed was Gaelic. The tune lilted between the brothers, filling the space with a haunting beauty.
Neither spoke during the song. And I certainly didn’t know what to do. Pops’s baritone was so beautiful, the whole situation brought tears to my eyes. Fighting brothers, a drunken father, and an aching tune that seemed to lift up everything. But when it was done, Pops did the one thing that would make the situation worse.
He gripped both men’s elbows and said, his voice thick with emotion, “Do you remember that, boys? Your mom sang that to you every night. Every night. Sometimes, I swore she’d wake you up just to sing you to sleep.” He turned to me. “You should have heard her, pretty girl. She had a voice like an angel.”
Was this the same woman who had abandoned them when Jake was fifteen? The one who’d told them she loved them, then never called again? That was not a good mother in my book, no matter how beautiful her voice. But again, there was no point in arguing with a drunk. So I tugged on his arm, bringing him around to walk with me. “It was beautiful. And you have the most amazing voice.”
“Ah, it’s not me. It’s the song.”
I reached over to Jake, pulling the keys out of his hands. Whatever was going on between him and his brother, it wasn’t my place to interfere. The only way I could help was by getting their father into the truck. Fortunately, Jake didn’t argue. He let me grab the keys and soon I was unlocking the door and helping Pops inside.
He tried to steal a kiss while I was buckling him up. I batted him away—gently—then pressed my own kiss to his cheek.
“My boy’s usually got lousy taste in women,” he said to me. “But you’re different. Don’t know how he lucked out with you. Maybe he snatched you out of the air.” His face cracked in a happy cackle. “But you’re a good ’un. Don’t you let him throw you away.”
I didn’t see the brothers finish their discussion. I don’t even know if they said anything. But Jake was by my side as I shut the passenger door, gently folding me into his arms while he pulled the keys from my hand.
“Jake—”
“Shhh. Don’t say anything. Please.” He pressed his cheek to the top of my head. “You’ve been great, and I really appreciate it.”
He grew quiet, and I stirred, trying to look at his face. But he tightened his arms and held me in place.
“I need you to go home now. Get some rest before your shift.”
“But—”
“Larry has gone on to the firehouse. I’m going to take Pops home in his truck. Then I’ll probably sleep there, just to make sure he’s okay.” He took a deep breath. “I need to have a heart-to-heart talk with him in the morning. It’s not going to make a difference, but I need to try.”
“Let me help—” I argued, but he was already shaking his head.
“Just don’t bail on me. Give me a chance to explain.”
I pushed out of his arms. “I haven’t seen anything here that scares me.”
His expression tightened. “Pops is all kinds of fun on the surface.”
“Does he get mean?”
“Not physically.” He exhaled. “Look, just let me see you tomorrow.”
“I’m working—”
“Whenever you have free. Please.” His expression showed a vulnerability that I’d never seen before. “You’ve already witnessed more about my life than any girl I’ve dated in the last five years. Please give me time to explain the rest.”
“Of course.”
I didn’t know how to explain that nothing here seemed like a big deal to me. A surly brother? Who didn’t get into spats with their siblings? A sweet drunk of a father? I’d seen lots worse over the years. But it was clear nothing here was about my reaction. It was all about how Jake was twisted up inside over his own family. I didn’t know why, but I sure as hell knew not to push now. His body was tighter than a drum, and given what he’d been through in the last few days, I was sure he was in a great deal of pain—physical and now emotional.
“I promise,” I said. “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” He exhaled in relief, and his head bowed enough to press a kiss to my lips. But I held him back. “On one condition.”
He tensed. “What?”
