Page 112 of Beat of Love
Hard to watch him lavish affection on others (even the four-legged ones) when every part of her craved that same tenderness for herself.
33
Weight of names
Bulwark, early February
Rafferty pulled into the parking space as Jo walked up to her shop. The denim jumpsuit she wore strained against her growing stomach. The last time he’d seen her she wasn’t showing.
A lot can happen in seven weeks, idiot.You’ve only yourself to blame for ignoring your sisters.
He’d started off strong, following Dr. Sykes’ advice by having coffee with his sisters, first Siobhan, then Jo. That was followed by a barbeque with Jo where he got to know her stepsons better. And away from the watchful eyes of Aidan, it was easier to relax and interact with the boys. He even met Kara, Kurt’s eldest, in a hello-goodbye, catching her as she left to drive back to college.
And Siobhan invited him to dinner. Her twin girls had him in stitches with their antics, and Gracie bombarded him with questions regarding his short time in the army. Her brother, Dax, was in the military, and she wanted the “unvarnished truth” not the “watered-down version” Daniel gave her. He grinned, recalling the conversation.
“Was it scary?”Grace asked, chin in hand, eyes narrowed like she was interrogating a spy.
He blinked.“Uh … sometimes.”
“What does that even mean? Either it was scary, or it wasn’t.”She crossed her arms.“Uncle Raff, I want the real stuff.”
“Well,”he hedged,“there were definitely moments I didn’t love.”
Grace leaned in.“Did you shoot anyone?”
“Grace!”Siobhan snapped from the kitchen.“You’re only ten.”
“What?”she huffed.“I’m just fact-checking.”
A knock on his window brought him back to the present. It was Josie. He hopped out of the Jeep and joined his sister on the sidewalk.
“Smiling looks good on you,” she said in greeting.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Just remembering something Grace said.”
“That kid’s a hoot.”
He stepped back and gave his sister a hard look. “See you swallowed a pea, sis?”
She swatted his arm. “Ugh. I swear, if one more person comments on my exploding belly, I’m gonna commit murder. And I’ve still got five months left!” She eyed the vehicle. “Yours?”
He turned to view the new Rubicon, still a bit shocked at his impulsive action. “Traded in the Ducati.”
She placed a hand on his chest, a light crease forming between her brown eyes. “You traded your motorcycle. Why?”
Good question. One he was still asking himself. All he knew was, “It felt right.”
He’d loved riding the powerful machine. The wind, the power. The freedom. But after almost colliding with Rosie, his perception had changed. Driving the Jeep didn’t exactly thrill him, but it felt solid. Dependable. He could live with that. And if he took off the doors and top, it was almost like riding a bike. Or so he consoled himself.
But he kept the helmet in the back of the Jeep.
Not for use — just for the reminder.
Of whom he’d been. And who he was trying to become.
“It was time.”
She wrinkled her nose. “But army green?”
