Page 38 of Whispers of You
And she’d been using them to taunt me all afternoon. To bait me into coming tonight.
I tossed my phone into the cupholder and stared up at the house. I knew every nook and cranny of it like the back of my hand. How many times had I wished I could live here growing up? Too many to count.
And then there were the times when I’d picture it—building a house on the land that would be close enough that Kerry and Nathan would be in their grandbabies’ lives every single day. Those invisible claws dug deep, and I shoved the memories down.
I was good at that. Shoving away things that I didn’t want to look at. I was a master at it, really. But I could never burn the memories out altogether.
And we had half a lifetime of them. Grae and I had been in the same playgroup as infants. And Kerry often told this story of two-year-old Holt toddling over, transfixed by the baby with the hazel eyes. She said he used to stand guard over me, not letting anyone close until they proved their good intentions.
That had never changed over the years. Always my protector. The one who picked me up when I took a tumble off my bike and tended to my skinned knees. The one who insisted his brothers let Grae and me play whatever they were doing. The one who decked a jerk in the third grade for making a habit of taunting me, thus getting suspended for a whole week.
I’d been half in love with Holt Hartley since I could walk. But it took some time for him to come around to the idea. He’d said that he’d always loved me but that the love just looked different at each point in our lives. I’d thought that would continue forever, never realizing he could simply walk away.
I tugged the keys out of my ignition and wrapped my fingers around them, the metal teeth biting into my flesh. I wished the flash of pain were stronger. I needed so much worse if I were going to make it through the next few hours.
Climbing the steps to the front door, I took one last lungful of mountain air. My steps paused, and I almost lifted my hand to knock as if Holt’s presence had turned this place into a stranger’s home. I shoved the impulse down and opened the door.
The sounds of muted chaos came from the living area. I followed its strains. Grae leapt from the couch the moment she saw me. “Wren!” She engulfed me in a hug. “I was worried you were going to bail,” she whispered.
“Your thirty-two texts might have given me a clue to that.”
She sent me a sheepish smile. “Was weak-a biznatch too much?”
I grinned. “That was my favorite one.”
“Come on. Let’s get a drink.”
She ushered me to the kitchen, and I was proud that my steps only faltered slightly as my eyes locked with deep blue ones. Holt’s stare was like a force field I had to fight against to make any forward progress.
“Hey, Cricket.”
A flash of agony ripped through me, but I simply nodded. “Holt.”
“My girl’s here,” Kerry crooned, pulling me into a hug. “Now all is right with the world.”
“I didn’t bring anything, but I’ve got two hands that can help.”
“All I need is you in this space, and I’m happy as can be.”
Warmth filtered through me, easing the worst of the pain of hearing my nickname on Holt’s lips.
“What’s up, Little Williams?” Nash asked, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth.
Kerry smacked his hand with a towel. “Wren, you can help me by guarding the food from these two heathens.”
Holt’s lips twitched into that devilish smile I’d always loved as he snagged a roll off the cooling rack. “It’s a compliment, Mom.” He popped a bite into his mouth. “I never eat as well as I do here.”
Nathan shifted in his seat. “If that’s the case, you’d think you would’ve made it home for more than twenty-four hours once a year.”
Pain lashed Holt’s face. It was there one second and gone the next. But the depth of it was so intense, I’d never forget the image.
“Nathan…” Kerry said in a low voice.
“Not holding my tongue in my own house,” he grumbled.
I sent Grae a sidelong look, and she gave a small shake of her head. My gaze shifted back to Nathan, the man who had been nothing but an overgrown teddy bear to me. He’d occasionally been hard on his kids, but it was always when they’d done something boneheaded. And he always ended every lecture or punishment by telling them how loved they were.
Sure, Nathan had gotten more cantankerous as his recovery dragged on, but this was harsh—even to my ears.
