It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 14

LEX

I stare at my phone, resting my hip against the vanity. Mark said he’s scared. I could hear it in his voice, in the way he snapped at me, and it only means one thing. He’s absolutely terrified.

I know how he feels about hospitals and medical facilities and the memories they stir. I want to make it all better for him, but I can’t, and I hate it.

I run a hand over my stomach. It’s definitely not the time to drop a teeny, tiny baby bomb on his mountain of anxiety. But, as soon as he’s out of surgery and I know he’s ok, I’m telling him about our baby. Our baby.

My lips tug upward as I open the bathroom door to head back out to join the guys. I stop in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and find Slade cracking open a beer.

“You all right?” he asks, tossing the metal cap in the trash.

I grab a water from the fridge and twist off the plastic lid, trying to act like everything is fine. Normal. I’m secretly married, pregnant, and unsure of exactly what happens next. Plus, Mark is freaking out and heading into surgery to see if he’ll ever be able to throw again. I’m fine. Just fine.

“Yeah.” See, that sounded . . . fine.

He takes a pull from his bottle, his eyes staying on me. “You feeling better?”

“Yes.” I take a sip of water. I barfed three times today, but what’s new?

“You sure? You were pretty antsy out there watching the game. ”

Watching Mark hit the ground, his arm twisted behind him and writhing in pain is not something I ever want to see again. My heart and my stomach hit the floor, one on top of the other, and didn’t pick themselves back up until I saw his face as he was helped off the field.

I knew it meant he was done, and everything he’d been suffering for just went out the window.

I pick at the plastic label. “I’m fine. It was a close game.”

He stares at me like I’m full of crap, and I am to the very tip-top.

“He’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s got the best of the best at his fingertips.” Slade’s cool, smooth tone hits a nerve, and my spine stiffens. He lifts his bottle but stops halfway to his lips. “You know, it might be time to actually do something about it. This shit has been going on long enough.”

I glare at him and his big, burly bluntness. “Really? I might suggest where you can shove your opinion.”

I see a hint of a smirk, and I’m tempted to throw my water bottle at him. I love him, but this man is the absolute last person I’d take any sort of relationship advice from. What sucks is he’s not wrong. I plan to do something about Mark and me. He just needs his shoulder repaired first.

I lean against the counter, crossing my arms over my baggy sweatshirt. “You know, I might be willing to listen to you if you’d dated someone in the last, I don’t know, ever.”

He glares, that hint of amusement remaining, and somehow, it’s as if he sees right through me. This is what happens when you work with each other every day, and they actually care about you. They call you out and make you face your fears, regrets, grief, heartache, and all the other suckass things we’d like to avoid. Forever.

I hug myself tighter.

He drops his bottle to his side, gripping the neck with two fingers. “I don’t have to date to know when someone’s being stupid.”

I let my head fall to the side. “I’m not being stupid. Just sometimes, things aren’t as easy as they seem.” Like, ever.

He adjusts the hat on his head. “Seems pretty simple to me. I thought you might need a brown paper bag in there. How much longer are you going to keep this up?”

“Slade, there’s so much—”

“None of that is a factor anymore. You’re letting it be a factor.” He points his bottle at me. “It’s time you quit hiding behind the past. ”

While I want to punch him, that annoying little internal voice pulls out a pen and my list of fears to cross reference with Slade’s accusation. I’m not hiding. I’m married. Ha!

I want to be totally and completely pissed at him, especially today, but Slade and I have been friends for too long. This is him caring, and part of me knows he’s right. Damn him.

I had my reasons for letting Mark go before. I’m not sure they’re even remotely valid anymore. That’s what I need to find out. But like I told Mark, I’m terrified out of my mind.

“You know, I could say the same to you,” I smirk, twisting the cap back on as his eyes burn holes into me. “Maybe it’s time to let the past go. You might even be able to find a smile in there somewhere if you did.”

He grunts, his fingers scratching at his neck. I just turned the uncomfortable tables and pointed them back at him. It’s me caring about him, too. He’s big, overprotective, and grumpy, but he’s the only kind of brother I’ll ever have.

“Who’s letting the past go?” Krissy steps into the kitchen, pulling a bag of chips from the pantry.

Slade lifts his bottle, but his squinty eyes remain on me.

“Oh, I was just telling Slade that it’s time to let his rough and rugged, I-have-no-feelings persona go and think about taking a dip into the dating pool.”

Krissy’s head tips back, laughter bursting out. “Date? Him?” She points at him, and I might be dead wrong, but I think I see a hint of red behind that dark, trimmed beard. “Slade would have to let go of all of his strict-ass rules, routines, and requirements. Women want a man with a sense of humor and who . . . let’s go and laughs now and then. No one would put up with all that gruff, grouchiness. Seriously, I’m pretty sure he sleeps in a garbage can.”

“I don’t want a woman,” he growls. “I’m perfectly happy alone.”

“Ha. Keep telling yourself that, bro. No one who walks around grumbling and cursing as much as you do is happy.”

I can’t help but laugh as Krissy dumps the chips in a bowl. It feels good and a little like hope bubbling up.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asks me. “We decided on pizza. ”

I shake my head. “No, I have to leave in a few. I’m having dinner with my mom.”

She widens her eyes at me, grabbing the bowl off the counter. “Bummer. We could set up a dating profile and list him.” She tips her head in Slade’s direction. “Big, grouchy, hard-ass mechanic seeking mannequin.”

I put my hand over my mouth to hide my laugh, but I can’t.

Slade looks at her from underneath his dark eyelashes, thoroughly unamused. “Krissy, I think it’s time for your ass to move out.”

She laughs and leaves the kitchen, the bowl of chips on her hip. “Ok, well, at least then I’ll be able to date and sleep around and not have you scare them off or listen to your lectures every five minutes.”

His head tips back, and he runs a hand over his face. “She’s going to kill me.”

I push away from the counter. “Maybe it’s time you let her move out. It’s going to happen one of these days.” I point my plastic bottle at him this time. “And then you, big guy, as scary as it is, just might have to get a life.”

I grin and leave him grounding out a string of foul words that have something to do with him owning the house and already having the life he wants.

I say goodbye to the guys and Krissy, spending the twenty-minute drive thinking about Mark, everything Slade said, and the little one growing inside me.

I pull in front of the row of townhouses, and my phone buzzes next to me.

MARK: Link attached. *Rental in Scottsdale*

MARK: *voice message* So you know where I am. FYI, I’m down with a sleepover. FOREVER.

ME: *voice message* Is that a formal invitation?

My lips turn up. He’s trying. I’m trying. I want it all to be enough. I want it to be so much more than enough. I want us to be a family the way I’ve always dreamed.

I climb out, knowing he and I have a lot of talking and sorting out to do .

I enter my mom’s kitchen through the back door and immediately sense that maybe I should have stayed at Slade’s.

“Oh hey, honey.” My mom turns and greets me before she’s right back to work.

I slump, asking the question I’m certain I already know the answer to. “What’s the occasion?”

I move beside her in the small, brightly painted kitchen, tossing a mixed salad. Her highlighted hair is twisted up, and she’s wearing a short, flowy dress. A vase of fresh flowers sits in the middle of the table.

I wouldn’t be suspicious, except this setup seems all too familiar. The past few times I’ve been over for dinner, we’ve ordered takeout since she’s gotten off work late, and I can’t remember the last time I saw her in a dress.

She moves on to slicing a loaf of bread and turns toward me, resting her hip on the counter.

“Well, I want you to meet someone.”

Her blue eyes brighten with a smile. I want to groan and roll my eyes, but I stop myself. Somehow, I knew this was what this show was all about. I’ve been here before, so many times.

Growing up, I always knew when a new man was sniffing around. A new wardrobe was purchased, nice dinners were put together so I could meet him, and my mom wore the same bright smile until it didn’t last.

The men were always nice and successful, but my mom never seemed to be the one they were looking for, no matter how hard she tried to be. Each time it didn’t work, I had to watch her fall apart and piece herself back together until the next one came along.

At fourteen, when she announced she was moving to Florida to follow the Financial Advisor, I’d had enough of the ups and downs and moved in with Grandpa.

“Really. Who is he?” I set the salad bowl on the table, trying to hide my complete lack of enthusiasm, but I do a sucky job.

She bites her bottom lip as if she’s already in love. My stomach and its newfound self-rule rides high in complete rebellion. I could gag, literally, but I hold it back. I don’t want to meet this man or any man. I’m too old for her short-lived love affairs .

I lean against the counter, resting my hands in the front pocket of my sweatshirt, not wanting to deal with this tonight. I want to go home and see if I catch Mark.

“I met him at work. He’s a contractor and has been working on the addition to the recreational center. He has a son about your age.”

I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “How long have you been seeing each other?”

“We’ve been out on a few dates. He brought me these flowers this morning,” she points to the ones on the table, beaming at the gesture. “He’s excited to meet you.”

Yippee .

She slices the bread while I stir the stroganoff on the stove.

“I think he might be the one,” she says softly as she sets the basket of bread on the table.

My eyeballs hit their limit and roll to where I’m pretty sure I see my brain deciding it’s time to snooze this one out. “Mom, don’t you think it’s a little soon to know that?”

She huffs, “Actually, I don’t. It’s different this time.”

Hmmm. Seems like I’ve heard this before. “Mom, that’s what you said with Ted and Rick.”

She stiffens into defensive mode. “Alex, can’t you be happy for me? I understand you ruined things with Seth, but this is important to me.”

Oh, hell no . It’s like smelling salts waft through the air, and my brain snaps to as my spine lengthens, pushing me away from the counter. “This has nothing to do with Seth. He and I weren’t right for each other. It was my fault for not seeing it sooner.”

“I don’t know how you’d even know that. You’ve hardly dated anyone.” She shakes her head. “You know, I worry about you. Someday, Grandpa isn’t going to be there to take care of you anymore. What are you going to do then?”

I pull back at her words. “What?” This. This is not what I need right now . . . or ever, but especially not right now. I don’t need a talking-to about how I’ll never make it on my own and need someone to take care of me.

She gestures around her kitchen. “Alex, all of this costs. It takes money to survive. What are you going to do? Run the shop? It’s a business, and you have to be able to . . . ”

She doesn’t finish her statement as anger ignites and shoots through me, exploding like a rogue firework. “Read.”

She runs a hand down the front of her dress. “That’s not what I meant.” Her voice is soft, and her shoulders slumping with regret.

It sure as hell sounded like that to me.

“I just mean it takes a lot to run a business, and I’m not sure you understand all that’s involved.”

I don’t even know what to say. I let my hand fall to my stomach inside my pocket, thinking about the tiny being that’s growing and changing.

When that little stick showed double lines, it was the absolute best moment of my life. There already isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for this baby. Taking care of it, loving it, and supporting it is my first priority and always will be.

I have things to do, preparations to make, and a man to talk to about . . . everything. What I don’t need is her telling me I’m incapable of it all.

My mom exhales. “When your dad took off, I had no choice but to figure things out. It was a terrible time, and I had no idea how I was going to make it. I never want that for you.”

I force my eyes from the floor, shoving resentment aside. “I might not be good at very many things, and I may have trouble reading and writing, but I know Grandpa’s business from the inside out. I’ve never needed a man to take care of me, and I don’t need one now.”

I grab my keys on the end of the counter. “I’m not staying for dinner. I hope this works out for you.”

“Alex, wait.” My mom reaches for me, and I stop. “I love you. I only want the best for you.”

I shake my head. “No, you don’t. You’ve always wanted what’s best for you.”

I don’t wait for her to respond, heading for my truck with steam billowing from my body. The closer I get to home, the more unsure of myself I become. She targeted and picked at every single one of my insecurities.

She doesn’t even know about Mark or the baby, and I won’t be able to hide it much longer. I need to talk to Mark. He has a say in all of this, and I want him to, but I have to be able to take care of this baby .

I know my limitations, but I also know I can run Grandpa’s shop. There are aspects I may need help with, but I know what those are and how to get the help I need.

I bypass Grandpa, asleep in the recliner, and go straight to my room. I don’t need him seeing my red face or rehashing what happened.

I cross the room to plug in my phone, but catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stop. I pull my shirt up and unfasten my jeans, which are getting a little snug. I place a hand over where my baby is growing. The tiny bump is beginning to make its presence known. I can’t help the smile that takes hold as the salty taste of tears falls on my lips.

I’ve never wanted anything more. I’ve dreamed of being a mother. The fact that Mark and I did this together only makes it that much more of a miracle.

I long to tell him, but that means I finally have to face those fears I’ve let dangle around me since I left him in Vegas. All the questions I pushed aside while he finished the season have now been dragged front and center, demanding answers.

I don’t know how Mark will react to the baby news, but I’m not afraid to tell him. I’m more afraid of figuring out how to make it work between us. Or really, that it won’t. To find out too much time has passed and we’re not who we once were. Or that my past actions will ruin the second chance I never thought I’d get.