Worth the Wait (McKinney_Walker #1)(54)
Hannah laughed, her eyes so bright he almost wanted to buy the man a drink. Almost. She killed that thought when she grinned back at him, waggled her eyebrows. “You really want me to answer that?”
He pinched his eyes closed. “God, no. You’re being…careful, right? I mean, you…”
“What?” She gaped at him, feigning shock, while her eyes danced with laughter. “Are you trying to talk to me about sex, Nick?”
He opened his mouth then closed it, running his fingers through his hair.
“Could you maybe tell me real quick? Or I know, let’s call Zach and Luke, and you could sit us all down. Make it a group lesson.”
“I’m pretty sure Zach knows,” Nick said, scowling.
“Are you sure? You might want to explain the details, make sure we know where babies come from and all that.”
Nick huffed. “Fine.”
She patted his arm and grabbed a water for herself. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner. Stephen says he doesn’t blame you for hitting him. He said he would have done the same thing.”
Nick grumbled under his breath. He’d punched McKinney the morning the man answered his sister’s door half dressed and looking so damn pleased with himself. Not his finest moment, but McKinney had given back as good as he’d gotten, and they’d come to a certain understanding.
“See? I told you you’re a lot alike.”
“We’re not alike, damn it,” he muttered.
Hannah laughed. “He didn’t like me saying that, either, which just proves my point that you’re—”
He raised a hand. “Don’t say it. You think this is hilarious, don’t you?”
“A little bit. I think the two of you are going to be best friends.”
“That’ll be a cold day in hell.”
She laughed again, and he loved the sound of it. He’d never considered that she might be lonely for a male companion. He didn't want to think about that and his sister in the same time zone, let alone sentence.
“Don’t pout. I’ll make you brownies next time. Mia Brownies. Her recipe, remember?”
He remembered.
“Stephen’s coming at six thirty. We’ve got some time. Want to sit on the porch a bit?”
“Can I have a brownie?”
Hannah pursed her lips like she was considering it.
“Fine. Forget it. Save all the brownies for McKinney.”
“I’m kidding. Of course you can have one. Just not the center. That’s Stephen’s favorite.”
He made a face at that but took the brownie she offered and went outside. The setting sun shot thin streams of light through the pines that surrounded Hannah’s woodland cabin.
Mia Brownies. He took a bite, and the soft chocolate settled in his gut like a rock. He wanted her, needed her, ached for her. And had no idea how to make it work.
Hannah leaned her head back while he pushed them in a gentle rhythm. She’d always loved to swing, to rock. Maybe because their mother had rocked her so much as an infant.
“You still like living out here?”
“I do. The wide-open spaces of wild grass and the shade of trees, the scents of animals and saddle leather. It comforts me like I’m guessing the scent of stale coffee and mountains of files comfort you. I hope they comfort you,” she added, and he felt her looking at him.
“You forgot the day-old cheeseburger.”
“Please tell me you didn’t eat it.”
He didn’t answer and stuffed the rest of the brownie in his mouth.
“You’ve been the keeper of us all for so long, I think you’re the one who needs a keeper.”
“I’m keeping myself just fine,” he lied, stretching his arm over the back of the swing. To say he hadn’t handled things well with Mia would be a colossal understatement. He’d hurt her. Again. Made her cry. Again. He’d spoken everything that was on his mind and nothing that was on his heart. He’d watched her walk away for the second time and done nothing to stop it. He hadn’t forgotten the pain in her eyes, the trembling of her lips as she fought not to cry in front of him. There was no doubt in his mind it was his fault, then and now.
Regret had settled over and into him until it was a part of who he was. Worse than guilt, which you could rationalize away if something hadn’t been your doing, but regret…that was harder because there were always choices, every minute of every day. Every step and turn led to an outcome that might have been different. And when your choices led to tragedy? Then you’d cut off a limb to change even one of those steps.
“Am I the reason you haven’t settled down, had kids of your own?”
Nick jerked his gaze to his sister, trying to bring his brain up to speed. “What?”