I smack my brother in the chest. “Stop flirting with my woman.”
He huffs a laugh. “Your woman?”
“Well…”
“That’s what I thought,” Crew jokes.
“What’d I miss?” Bret, Crew’s wife, asks with a deep exhale as she holds my nephew. Her long black hair flies haphazardly around her face. Dark circles mar her tanned skin from late-night exhaustion. Still, she looks as beautiful as the first time I met her. It was after I surprised Crew at one of his college football games for military appreciation. The three of us went out for pizza, back when they were still hiding their relationship. Too bad I could see right through the facade.
Crew wraps an arm around his wife, kissing the top of her head. “You didn’t miss anything.”
“Your husband’s flirting with my girl,” I grumble, throwing him under the bus.
“Oh, is he?” Bret purrs, eyeing her husband, and I smirk.
“Your girl?” Wren asks, and I flinch a little.
“God, it’s like you two never left,” Saylor adds, referring to our childhood bickering.
“I only have eyes for you, Rebel,” Crew pleads.
She leans up on her toes and presses a kiss to his lips. “I know you do, but it’s fun to give you hell.”
I step closer to my sister-in-law and stretch my hands out. “Can I take my handsome little nephew?”
Bret nods ecstatically, handing him off to me.
I shift Carter until he’s resting comfortably in my arms. I’ve never been one for kids. They’ve always intimidated me with their fragility, but as I observe my not-so-tiny nephew and his gummy smile, I can’t help but relax with him in my arms.
I watch my sister in my periphery move toward Wren. She slinks her arm through Wren’s and the two of them slip out the back door onto the porch. I watch in disbelief that she’s back in my life and attending family dinners again. It feels like a pinch-me moment, like I’m going to wake up from a dream and find myself back in the Middle East, sleeping on a cot in a war-torn world.
A voice clears from beside me, and I glance up to find Wren’s dad holding a beer out to me.
“You look like you could use one.”
I nod, taking the open bottle from him. “Thanks.”
His eyes bounce to Carter. “Maybe you’ll give me some grandkids before I get too old to run around with them.”
I choke on the sip of beer I was taking as Mark’s ice-breaker comment hits me square in the chest. Coughing and spluttering, I try not to scare Carter, who’s staring up at me with wide eyes.Please don’t start crying.
Crew barks out a laugh as he claps me on the back. “Yeah, big brother. When’s Carter getting a cousin?”
“Jesus,” I grumble. “I think everyone needs to slow down.”
“Oh, would you two give the boy a break?” Mom steps in. “Although I wouldn’t mind more grandbabies. Lord knows Saylor isn’t giving me any any time soon, and this one”—she points to Crew—“isn’t having anymore for a while.”
“Wejusthad him,” Crew defends.
Glancing through the glass patio doors, I find my Whiskey watching me, only her gaze is on the baby in my arms. Is my girl thinking about babies?
She used to tease me about the basketball team we’d have, but given everything she’s been through, are kids still in her future?
Conversation blurs around me as I try to picture what life could’ve been. There’s an ache in my chest, wondering if Dad would still be here if I had been home to help on the farm. He’d love to see his family still gathering around his childhood table with kids of their own. Would we be here with a couple of our own kids?
I can picture it. Wren in the backyard, dress flowing behind her, hair floating in the breeze. Two kids—the perfect mixture of us—chasing after her while her laughter drifts in the hot summer air, as I stand back and watch my everything.
“Where’d you go?” A shoulder nudges me, and I bring my attention back to the now. Crew’s standing close to me, reading me like an open book.
