Page 142 of Forgotten Desires

“Okay, now to the really important questions . . .” He leans back. “Who is your favorite Whitlock?”

“Brynlee,” I answer without pause.

“Yes, but she’s actually Brynlee Knight so . . .”

I laugh. “I plead the fifth.”

“I’m going to pretend that means me. I get it, I’m everyone’s favorite.” Rowan stands, and I do the same. “All kidding aside, it’s very clear you love her. You bought that fucking company just to shut it down to avoid her being hurt. All any of us have ever wanted for Brynn was to find someone who would treat her right and love her.”

I stare into his eyes, meaning every word that comes from my mouth. “I love her more than anything in this world, Rowan. I want to marry her again so she knows it.”

“Then I can’t wait to be there.”

thirty-four

BRYNLEE

“Can we bring the chickens treats?” Layla asks as we’re walking back from putting the animals in the barn.

It’s getting late, and it’s almost time for bed.

“What do you want to bring them?”

She loves coming out with her bucket of scraps. Although, I think the chickens love it even more, since this week, we had an egg, which was a huge shock since we haven’t had any of the hens lay in months.

“Everything!” she yells and bounces up and down.

I smile and nod. “Okay, let’s see what we have in the pail for them.”

Layla rushes down the path, her pale blond hair flowing back and forth as she runs. We’ve spent almost all day outside, and as exhausted as I am, I also feel alive. Being back home has been exactly what I needed.

Addison has been amazing and takes Layla most mornings to come play with the kids until dinnertime. She says adding one more is no big deal, plus it keeps her two from fighting since Elodie has a girl to play girl stuff with.

Poor Jett is stuck doing what they want unless Grady takes him to the hangar and prays he doesn’t break something.

When I get close to the house, Layla is already running back to me with the pail. “I have the treats!”

“You do? What’s in there?”

She looks down and makes a face of disgust. “Green beans.”

I fight back a laugh. “I thought you liked green beans.” She doesn’t. Last night was the first time I’ve really gotten to see her have a tantrum. She wouldn’t eat them no matter what. Crew “allowed” me to cook since I went the entire day without a nap. I made pork chops, green beans, and corn bread. She loved the bread and the pork, but anything that’s green or has the name in it, she says is disgusting.

“They’re gross!”

I nod as though I agree. “Well, let’s see if the chickens like them.”

Layla takes my hand, and we walk back toward the chicken castle. “Here, girls,” I call, clicking my tongue.

They run toward us and Layla giggles. “You wait, girls!” she tells them. “I give you one.” She places a green bean down. “And you one.” Another chicken gets it. “You can have one too!”

She continues doing that, giving treats out one at a time. “What about me?” a deep voice asks from behind me.

“Daddy!”

I smile as she dumps the pail and rushes to her hero. “Ladybug, are you feeding the chickens?” he asks as he lifts her into his arms. I close the coop door and walk over to where they’re standing.

“I did, but now we have no more.” She lifts both hands and shrugs.

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