Page 25 of Trust Me Always

The longing melts off Ari’s expression and she grins, both of us smiling softly, no words needing to be said. She knows I know what she means, even if I can’t possibly understand how it must feel to be apart from someone you’d literally cut your heart out for and hand it to them if the situation demanded it.

She sighs, but it’s not a gloomy sound, and wraps her arms around me. “Thanks, Cam.”

“Welcome, sister. What am I good for if not the art of distraction? Now let’s go rescue the ’rents before Deaton fills them up on Funyuns.”

She laughs, and we make our way over, dropping down into the grass between our parent’s chairs, and chat about school, their work, and every other random topic that comes up.

About half an hour later, Chase returns from picking up his parents at the airport.

“Chase, honey, it’s so good to see you!” Ari’s mom jumps up, always the first to take her “second children,” as she calls us all, into her arms. She holds on to him a moment longer than she did us, and I know it’s because she senses he needs it.

We like to joke Brady is more like her than his own mom, what with his perceptive-ass self.

I sneak a peek at Ari, and she meets my gaze, her shrug only noticeably to me.

I wonder if it’s because she still feels for Chase after everything that went down between him, Ari, and Noah our freshman year.

Ari’s mom whispers something, and he nods, pulling back with a soft smile.

Chase makes his rounds, saying hello to everyone else.

I glance around for his parents, but it’s Brady who hops up from his spot on the grass opposite me. “You lose your parents from the parking lot to here?” He lifts baby Deaton and puts him on his massive shoulders.

Chase’s chuckle is tense, and he nods toward the buildings. “Nah, they paused at the restrooms. They’ll be over here in a minute. I’m going to see if Mase is ready for a break.”

“We’ll come too,” Brady offers, and his dad pushes to his feet so their standing side by side.

The difference between them is stark and always makes me smile.

While Brady is built like a heavy-weight champion, wide and broad along the shoulders, tapering down into a thick, strong waist, his dad stands about five inches shorter than him, his build more that of a runner. He’s lean, and while he is very fit for his age, he looks skinny in his shirt and jeans when side by side with his son. He’s a military man with impeccable posture and his son basically has a master’s in that hot, lazy-man slouch. I have never seen Ben slouch.

Like me, Brady got his hair and eye color from his mother, though I’m tall like my dad. Genetics are fascinating, and the thought has my eyes lifting to the dark-haired baby boy on Brady’s shoulders.

He has the eyes of his mama, but his hair is the shade of his biological dad.

What if I never get the chance to see what my child would look like?

“Brady Lancaster,” Ari’s mom shouts, pulling me from my thoughts. “You be careful with my grandson up there like that.”

“Yeah, Jack the Giant, careful.” I grin. “His little legs can hardly curl around those massive delts.”

“I’ll show you giant!” he shouts back.

“Brady!” all the moms scold at once, making the rest of us laugh.

His mother sighs, shaking her head, but there’s a smile on her lips. When her attention moves back this way, her eyes pop over my shoulder. Two seconds later, she’s elbowing my mom the way I do Ari.

Both of them look to me, my mother’s sly smile making me anxious.

“What?”

She lifts a shoulder, sitting back in her chair.

“Mom!”

“You’ll have to look if you want to know, but I will say, that dessert table is looking mighty…appetizing.”

Now I glare at the pair, and they laugh harder, lifting their drinks to their lips.

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