Page 41 of Letters of Faith
A growl resonates from my chest—frustration blooming. I’d be annoyed that Brooks is standing in my driveway with his daughter and what I assume is his wife, unannounced, on a normal day, but especially today, of all days when all I want to do is drag Georgia inside my house, figure this thing out, and plan a date—one that has the power to change our whole future.
Georgia’s fingers slip between mine, squeezing. Seeing Brooks here at my home was like a shock to my system. I’d forgotten I’d placed my hand on hers, but now, with her fingers laced with mine, it’s all I can concentrate on—releasing that anger crept into my body at the sight of Brooks.
When Georgia told me that she was worried about me at the festival, I realized that she was right—parts of who I used to be have been slipping out since Nate died, but I want to be the better man for Georgia—I’m going to be that man. So, with her fingers in mine, I focus on reigning in the frustration of having Brooks on my step—but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still annoy me. Apparently, that’s part of having a brother, or so I’m told.
She squeezes again, and I turn my head to look at her.
“You’ve got me,” she says. There’s a dip inher voice—a tiny inflection—that has me hiding my smirk. She may not know it yet, but she put more weight behind that statement than she realized.
I nod, swallowing my response as I put the truck in park. Through the windshield, I see Brooks lift Avery in the air and twirl her around before dropping her down in the snow. Avery giggles as Brooks’s wife stands by and watches on. There’s a content smile on her lips, and for a second, jealousy burns deep in my gut.
Growing up, I dreamed of that kind of family for my mom and me—one with stability and love. It wasn’t that my mom didn’t love me, but life hardened her. Her idea of showing love was working long days so she didn’t have to be home with me and yelling at me when I got in trouble. I gave up on the idea of family, at least for me, but looking at Brooks and his family, there’s a longing deep in my chest that I thought was dead.
I rub my hand over the scruff on my chin to clear my head. My neck pops as I tilt it from side to side, relieving some pressure before shoving my door open and walking to the passenger side. I take my time helping Georgia out of the truck, keeping my back to Brooks and his family until I fully have my emotions in check. There’s no chance I’ll let my estranged little brother see one ounce of emotion from me. It would give him the upper hand.
Swinging the door open, I place my hand in front of her. She puts hers in mine, and the smoothness of her palm against mine is enough to calm my racing heart. I school my face, so it’s a cool mask of indifference, but Georgia sees straight through me. With her feet on the ground and one hand in mine, she lifts the other to caress my jaw. Leaning into the warmth, I close my eyes and just breathe.
“I know your worth, even if you don’t. I’ve got your back,” she says.
My eyes flash open, and I study her face. I’m not used to relying on people. I try not to because I get tired of being disappointed, but I can see the sincerity shining in Georgia’s eyes.
“After this, can we talk?” I ask.
I need to tell Georgia about my letter. If I ever want this to be more, she has to know—even if it means she never talks to me again. First, I have to get through whatever my brother is here for.
One problem at a time.
She nods, and I turn and walk towards Brooks, keeping Georgia’s hand in mine. Brooks eyes us as we approach, zeroing in on our linked hands. He’s wearing a strange smirk, and just like when he was in my office several weeks ago, I want to knock that smirk right off his face. Georgia squeezes my hand and gives a subtle shake of her head as if she can read my mind, and I grind my molars together to keep my temper in check.
“Brooks,” I say as a greeting when we stand a few feet apart.
His smirk turns into a full-blown smile, and I swear it only makes me want to punch him harder. The glint in his eyes is knowing, like he takes pride in raising my blood pressure. I have to say that having a younger brother is not all it’s cracked up to be. Irritating is a better word for it.
“We hope we’re not intruding,” his wife says beside him. “But we had some errands to run today and thought we would stop by. Had we known the weather was going to be like this, we probably would have stopped another day.”
I turn my attention to her, carefully keeping my face in a stony mask. I let the silence set for a minute as I study her, making sure that there isn’t any question that they are intruding. She’s pretty, with blonde hair framing her face, causing her green eyes to pop. She’s out of my younger brother’s league, that’s for sure—but I choose to keep that comment to myself. If I stir the pot, they won’t leave.
Georgia must know that I’ll let the awkwardness stretch out for as long as it takes because she steps forward, extending her hand to Brooks’s wife.
“Hi, I’m Georgia.”
Brooks lets out a harsh laugh as his wife takes Georgia’s hand.
“Oh, she knows who you are, Firecracker. I’ve told her all about you.”
With a swift smack to Brooks’s arm, his wife rolls her eyes and says, “Ignore him. I’m Emryn.”
“I’m Avery,” a voice pipes up behind Brooks and Emryn.
All eyes turn towards my niece, who is lying on the ground making snow angels.
Georgia lets out a soft laugh from beside me, and from the way she’s watching Avery, I can tell she’s already besotted with her.
I have to admit, it’s hard not to find the pipsqueak charming. She must get that from her mom because it definitely didn’t come from her dad.
Letting go of my hand, Georgia walks over to Avery and bends down beside her. A secretive smile lights up her face as she looks down at her, and in a flash, images of Georgia as a mom, holding our kids in her arms, run through my mind. I might as well have taken a bullet to the chest because the thought of it takes my breath away.
Offering her hand to Avery, Georgia says, “Why don’t we go inside and get some hot chocolate? I know where your grumpy uncle keeps the good stuff.”
