to pick Piper up from the airport today. He’d spent more time with her this afternoon than in all the years since their breakup combined. When she’d stumbled into his arms at the luggage carousel, the urge to kiss her had smacked him hard, shaken him to the marrow. If she hadn’t pulled away when she did, he’d have given the kiss her eyes had asked for...because her face had said she still wanted him. The sexy catch in her breath had been the same telltale signal of her desire that he’d learned when they made out in high school.
But then, damn it, she’d raised the shield she’d used for the last seven years to keep him at bay. The shift in her body language had said clearly that nothing had changed for her. She had closed the book on him and moved on.
Fine, he told himself, pulling out his cell phone to text Helen about babysitting. Message received, Piper. He was no glutton for punishment.
And yet... Brady knew he was sitting on a landmine. He had a moral responsibility to deal with the situation and correct all the wrongs that had been done in the past. He gritted his back teeth as resentment curled through him. All of his life he tried to do the right thing—for his father, for Piper and now for Connor. For all his best efforts, he’d gotten nothing but heartache, frustration and the burden of untangling the messes other people dropped in his lap.
He sent his text to Helen, and as he stashed his phone in his back pocket again, he hitched his chin toward his father’s beer. “If we’re meeting with the family tonight on ranch business, then maybe you should lay off the booze. At least until after the meeting.”
His father responded with a surly look and another pull of his beer. Then with a grunt of fatigue, his father shoved himself off the stuffed chair and carried his can to the sink. After pouring the rest of the beer down the sink, he sent a dark look to Brady. “There. Happy?”
Brady swallowed the bitter retort that rose on his tongue. He’d only be happy when he no longer had to retrieve his old man from bars where he’d gotten too drunk to drive home. And when he no longer had to cover for his father around the ranch on mornings when Roy was sleeping off a bender. His father had always been a heavy drinker, but this year, since Scott and Pam’s deaths, Roy had crawled deeper into the bottle.
Roy moved to the refrigerator and sent Brady a hooded glare over the open door. “What’s for supper?”
Brady scrubbed his hands on his face and shook his head. “Hadn’t gotten that far. There’s leftover soup. Guess I’ll make Connor a sandwich to go with that. What time is this meeting we’ve been asked to attend?”
“Seven.” His dad, the foreman at the Double M for the last twenty-eight years and a hand before that, bore all the signs of a life in the sun, a career of hard work and heavy drinking. Tanned, leathery skin with heavy creases around the eyes made him look older than he was, and his thinning brown hair bore a permanent crease from his sweat-stained Stetson.
Was that what he had in store? Brady wondered. Aging prematurely and finding his only solace to a lonely life in the bottom of a bottle? He loved ranching, loved fresh air and the wind in his face. He even loved the Double M as if it belonged to his own family. He appreciated and respected the McCalls, but he dreamed, too, of having his own place someday. He wanted to build a prosperous cattle ranch that he could leave to Connor. Maybe there was still a chance he’d find a way to go to veterinary school. He supposed it was getting time to make some decisions. Some hard choices. Having Connor in the mix now, along with his concerns about his father’s drinking, complicated things. He needed a steady income, a place for Connor to feel he had roots and stability for a while longer.
Of course, he’d also always thought he’d settle down and raise a family with a woman who shared his passion for the outdoors, animals and hard work. In his mind’s eye, ever since he’d stolen his first kiss from her behind the bunkhouse when they were twelve years old, that woman had always had Piper’s glossy dark hair and gray eyes. Her willowy body and full lips. Her sunny smile and contagious laugh.
After the last seven years of receiving the cold shoulder and distance from her, he really needed to let that vision go. Folding his cards and moving on was the smart thing to do. He knew that. But how did he walk away when he’d so recently been dealt the ace he now held?
No, he’d keep his seat awhile longer and play out the hand. Piper was worth one last chance.
That evening after dinner, Piper walked into the den with Josh and eyed the available seats for the family meeting. Spying her father’s big, comfy recliner, she headed for it. As did Josh. Realizing his destination, she quickened her step, as did he, until they were racing for the prized seat. They arrived from opposite angles at the same time and end up in a tangled, laughing pile that made the chair rock and creak.
Their father came in carrying a glass of lemonade and sized up the situation with a wry grin. “Joshua,” he said, lifting Zeke the cat off the couch and patting the cushion, “I’ve got a place saved for you right here.” Michael waved a hand, telling him to vacate the recliner. “Vamoose.”
Josh feigned affront. “Why me?”
“’Cause she’s prettier, and I like her more,” their dad deadpanned.
“Ha!” she gloated and shoved at her brother’s shoulder. “You heard him, Doofus. Move it!”
As Josh shoved to his feet, two new arrivals to the den caught her attention. Brady and his father. Piper’s heart slammed against her ribs, and she grabbed the back of Josh’s shirt, tugging him close enough to whisper in his ear. “What are they doing here? I thought this was a family meeting.”
“It is,” he said, straightening his shirt where she’d mussed it up. “But since they are key to the running of the ranch, we thought they would give us useful input.”
“Roy, Brady, thanks for coming,” her father said, offering his hand to their foreman to shake. “Come in. Have a seat.”
Piper avoided eye contact with Brady as he walked past her, sidestepping Zeke, who’d flopped on the floor and rolled on his back to stretch. Brady took the love seat across from her. But Roy Summers stopped in front of her with a lopsided smile. “Piper, it’s good to see you, darlin’.”
She stood and gave Brady’s father a hug. “You, too, Roy. How have you been?”
He heaved a sigh that smelled of beer. “Honestly? Not so good. It’s been a hard year.”
She bit her bottom lip and tightened her hug. “I bet it has. I’m so sorry about Scott and Pam.”
He pulled free of her embrace with a stiff nod. “Thanks.”
Pausing to rub Zeke’s belly, Roy moved to take his seat on the sofa next to Josh and Zane, and when Piper turned to reclaim the recliner, she found her father had stolen it. Her father gave her an unrepentant grin, and she grunted her protest. “Dad!”
Josh chortled as she searched the remaining seats for an empty spot. Her mother was in her favorite armchair, which meant the last seat left was the other half of the narrow love seat. Next to Brady. Schooling her expression to hide her dismay, she sank onto the cushions, trying not to brush against Brady.
“All right, boys,” her father said, turning up his palms as he divided a glance
