Page 43 of Delta Mission
“No. I don’t think I ever will be. And you didn’t answer my question.”
He reached for my hand. “It went well with Talon. He apologized.”
I frowned. “For what, exactly?”
Channing leaned against the kitchen counter and explained the conversation he’d had with his brother. “He says he doesn’t remember the details of . . . you know. Only what happened before and after.”
My mind swooped back to those rotten moments that nearly ruined my life. I couldn’t believe it. I also couldn’t find the details, and for that, I was grateful. But I still knew the event took place and that alone was pure hell. “So, what did he apologize for?”
Channing clutched my hands. “For not letting you tell me.”
I sighed with relief. “That’s good. I’m so glad he said that.”
“So now we can move on. Starting with dinner with my family. I’ve told everyone you’re coming, and they can’t wait to see you.”
I cocked my eyebrow. “Even Talon?”
“Of course, Talon. I know it’s going to be strange, and he and I can have a difficult relationship at times, but he’s still my brother. He’s trying to change, and I can see that. This whole thing didn’t just affect us. It did something to him too.”
“Okay. I know he’s important to you. I’ll try not to stress around Talon.”
Channing smiled. “Perfect. And I’m sure Aunt Betty will—”
“Channing!” I ripped my hand from his grip. “You never told me Aunt Betty was coming! I can’t—”
“What?” He drove his fingers through his hair.
“I’m not ready to see her.”
“Hey.” He clasped my hands and kissed the back of my palm. “Aunt Betty comes to every Sunday dinner. Don’t worry. We’ll talk to her together, so she won’t make a scene.”
I groaned. “I don’t know—”
“Come on. I want everyone to see you again.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping he would change his mind.
He kissed my lips, and I snapped my eyes open.
“Babe. I love you, and Aunt Betty will be happy that we’re happy.”
“Or she’ll peg the gravy jug at me.”
“Stop being dramatic. Did I say how beautiful you look?”
I rolled my eyes. “Charmer.”
“Just stating a fact. Now stop stalling. We have to get there before Talon eats all the roast potatoes.” He dragged me down the hallway.
I grabbed the house keys off the side table in the hall and locked the door.
Channing wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me toward his truck. His grip was tight as if he didn’t want me to run away.
If I did, he wouldn’t be able to catch me. We’d proven that fact last week when we’d taken a run along St John’s River to Ed Austin Regional Park. He’d tried damn hard to keep up, but it was nice to hear him concede defeat.
In my line of work, not many men did.
Twenty minutes later, Channing pulled his truck into his parents’ driveway. The house he’d grown up in hadn’t changed in the nine years since I’d run out of there with tears streaming down my face.
