Making the Cut (Sons of Templar MC #1)(116)
“Well you may as well buy a milkshake machine too Daddy.” I said sweetly, giving him a wink.
Amy sauntered in the room looking a million bucks like usual. Her hair was swept up in a ponytail, she wore white jeans and a camel coloured cashmere sweater. Not exactly country appropriate but at least the heels on her boots were thick. She had lost some serious weight, I couldn’t help worry. Her curves were disappearing and her cheekbones sallow, I wasn’t one to talk but I hoped my eating habits might inspire hers. My hope flared when she scooped some eggs onto her plate followed by a healthy dose of bacon.
“Morning family.” Amy declared, smiling at my parents, then bending down to pat my stomach, “Morning Supe.” She smirked as I rolled my eyes at the nickname for my Bun. She barely has had two bites when her phone rang, she glanced down at it before standing, “Excuse me, gotta take this it’s Rosie, about the store.” She quickly walked out of the room before answering.
Guilt blossomed in my stomach. I felt terrible for leaving the girls in the lurch with my store, I hadn’t really talked to anyone, I was too afraid Cade would hijack the call. So Amy had taken care of what needed to be taken care of. Not that there was much. Rosie was a star, dealing with everything from the orders to the payroll. I owed her big time. Not to mention that I had dragged Amy halfway across the world and not mentioned a return date. She could have gone home with Ry and Alex who flew over for the funeral and stayed for a week after. I could tell she reluctant to leave, to face the reality of getting on with life, I did know I had to figure it out and soon. I didn’t have long before I wouldn’t be able to make the 12 hour flight until after the baby was born. And even after I didn’t want to be that mother with the screaming baby on the plane.
A small part of me wanted to stay here, at my home in the country, my quiet retreat where I felt safe and comfortable. But it was also where memories of my brother lurked around every corner, and Cade did not. I contemplated this all over my plate of eggs, before I sighed and cleaned up. I took my jacket and boots from beside the door, turning to my parents.
“I’m going for a walk, I need some fresh air.”
“Okay well take Gunner with you. That fat dog needs some exercise.”
I looked at my father. “As if he would let me go anywhere without him.” My point was proved when an excited but overweight Lab bounded through the door I had just opened. “See you in a bit.”
I strolled around my childhood home, admiring it as I moved further away. It was big, but not obscene. Two storied, with a porch wrapping around the entire back and steps leading down into a huge garden. Huge pillars held up the balcony, which jutted off the upstairs living room, the backdrop of the Southern mountain ranges giving it beauty. I left it behind and let my feet take me to my place, our place. Gunner was puffing beside me but happily smiling up at me. Ian used to argue that dogs couldn’t smile but I disagreed, we had a perpetually happy Lab. I marveled and the amber and orange hues that decorated the trees and the leaves that crunched under my feet. I loved my home in autumn, It felt like a new beginning. I made it up the gentle slope, not liking to admit my panting sounded dangerously close to Gunners. I patted my stomach.
“This is your fault Bun, I used to be in great shape. I swear if you make my ankles swell I’m giving you a baby mullet.”
I reached the top ambling over to a swing hanging from a huge old oak tree, its leaves shimmering gold. I closed my eyes as sitting down in the swing moving back and forward, casting my eyes upon the rolling hills of home. This was our place. Mine and Ian’s. He built this swing for me when I was eight for me to play on, and then became a place for me to escape in my teenage years. Cry away heartbreak, run from my parents after yet another grounding, or to dream about starting my life in New York. Ian would promise me nothing bad could happen up here. A single solitary tear escaped my eye. I sat in silence for a long while.
“You lied Ian. Bad things can happen here. They did happen. You’re gone. You left me. I’m so angry with you. How could you leave us? How can I handle all of this without my big brother? You are never going to meet my baby. Never going to make any of your own, I’m never going to see you again. It hurts so much, I feel like I’m going to be like this forever. Am I ever going to be happy again?” I pleaded against the wind, the breeze carrying my words. I laid my head against the swing wishing for the millionth time that I could travel back in time.
“I can promise you that you are going to be happy again Gwen, no matter what it takes.” A familiar voice promised.
I froze, standing to turn towards to source of the deep voice, I couldn’t believe it. I must be hallucinating. Cade was standing in front of me, eyes glued to mine. His hands were in his pockets and I let my gaze roam over every inch of him. His hair had grown longer, kissing his shoulders roughly. Half of his face was covered by a substantial beard, much more than the couple of day’s growth I had been used to. His eyes were glittering with emotion, locked on me, drinking me in. He looked…wild. He was wearing all black, not surprisingly. A black thermal, his black leather jacket, which I was surprised to see was not his cut. Black jeans on his legs and his motorcycle boots. He was bigger than I remembered, two months and he had more muscle if that was possible. He also looked…ravaged. I barely suppressed a flinch seeing my strong man looking unraveled like that pained me. I looked at him in silence, frozen, unable to move, to speak. I didn’t know what to say to do, I was too scared that he might not be real. His eyes moved down from my eyes to my stomach, the dress I was wearing was pre baby. It was a light pink knit and long sleeved, made from a tight jersey material, straining over my bump.