Granny giggled like a school girl. “You’ve grown into a fine young man. I was just telling Veronica that we’ve met before. You played together when you were toddlers. I used to bring Veronica with me to visit your Gran. You were here for the Christmas holidays one year. The two of you ran around in the sprinklers in your underwear.”
My hands covered my face in denial. Oh, my God. Kill me now.
“Really?” He drew the word out, wicked amusement lending a musical quality to the word.
“Actually, you used to chase Veronica around, trying to kiss her, and pull on her pigtails.” I peeked at her through my fingers, willing her to shut up. “It was so cute. You were a year older, and much bigger than her, but she was quicker.” The wrinkles on her face were as deep as her delight at the memories. Traitor.
The slide of Brad’s arm across my shoulders increased the heat of my embarrassment to fever pitch. With his other hand, he removed mine from my face. “Not much has changed, then.”
I raised my eyes, watching him peer back with adoration, and silver flecks of mischief lighting his irises. He tightened his hold, shocking me by planting a quick peck on my temple. The touch of his lips spurred a rush of blood to my face and a thundering behind my ribcage, readying me for … what? Him? I swallowed against a parched throat.
“Who’s hungry?” I squeaked, clapping my hands together as I ducked out from beneath his arm. My body screamed at me to get back under there.
“I’m starving,” Brad’s voice rasped. “How about you, Granny?”
Granny reached out her hand to Brad with a wide smile. “Help me up, and lead the way.” He patted Granny’s hand where it grasped his elbow, and guided her carefully up the back stairs.
They chatted as if they were long lost friends. It was disconcerting the way seeing them together warmed my heart. This beating, bloody organ in my chest wanted to let that man infiltrate it, and spread the ensuing warmth throughout my body. A big part of me didn’t want to be his friend. I didn’t want to endure the torment of it. I wanted more. I wanted to be a part of his family. Seeing him with Granny, I knew we belonged together. The realisation stunned me. I had to clench my fingers on the railing halfway up the stairs to let it sink in. How could I survive letting him in, only to lose him in the end? I wasn’t going to end up like my father.
Take a risk. Granny’s words came back to me. What she said about my mother not being as invested … it was true. I saw that now. If she had loved him, she would have talked about him all the time. I would have had a picture of him in my room. She never would have left him just because he saw things, knew things. If she loved me, she never would have left me. That thought was better left in the vault.
I couldn’t deny myself or him any longer. I wanted to feel like I belonged to a family, not just my Granny. It was him, I knew it was him. He was the one. I just had to figure out if he felt the same. If he could be strong enough to take on my demons with me, and come out the other side, still holding my hand.
“You coming?”
My eyes shot to Brad’s as I refocused. “Mmm.”
He blocked the top of the stairs, and held his hand out for mine. I looked in his eyes before I took it. I needed to see an indication that he felt what I did. His slate eyes penetrated the depths of mine as I asked my silent question. Something shifted inside me, a piece of my soul latching onto his. I reached out, accepting his hand. He received it with a smile. The symbolism wasn’t lost on me. I felt like I’d let go, just by holding on. I jumped a barrier that I couldn’t retreat behind, ever again. Actually, I think I just kicked it down.
Only several more barriers to go.
It was raining bacon. The smell was divine, soaking into my nose, down into my oesophagus, prompting an answering grumble from my tummy. From the deck, I watched the fried flesh strips fall and bounce on the grass … splashing in the flood of maple syrup that oozed from all the maple trees … Wait … There aren’t any maple trees in the backyard.
“Wake up, Gazelle.”
Huh? That’s Brad’s voice.
With great effort, I opened my eyes until they were narrow slits. Brad had his hand on my shin, and a wicked smirk on his face. What was he grinning at? I closed my eyes again, letting my mind drift back to the deliciousness. His hand was so warm. I could feel him making small circles with his thumb, causing hot sparks to shoot around my body. Waking up my core, well before my good sense. I focused on the smell of the bacon, maple syrup, and pancakes, evidently in existence in the house somewhere. Even more delectable, I smelled freshly showered man. Slowly, my level of consciousness rose, so I was able to register that it was morning, and Brad was in my room—stroking my bare leg.
My leg was bare.
I bolted upright in the bed, startling him enough that he snapped his hand back. The sheet was on the
