Unbeloved (Undeniable #4)(53)
It struck him then they he might no longer have the reserves, and if he left the club he’d no longer have the boys, but he’d always have his family, complete with two brothers who would always have his back.
“Listen,” Jase said. “I owe you an apology—”
Michael shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “We all knew you’d come home again.”
Jase studied the younger man, almost a mirror image of himself back when he was still in thirties. Yet instead of the hard lines and firm jaw that Jase had inherited from their father, Michael had a more rounded face with wide blue eyes like their mother’s that gave him a perpetual youthful appearance.
Remembering when they were kids and how Michael had always looked up to him, Jase felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Michael might easily forgive, but Jase couldn’t forgive himself for not being there for his little brother’s marriage, or for the birth of his children. Those were things Bradys did simply because they loved their family.
Jase didn’t deserve to a Brady.
“Help me out?” Michael suggested. “Those two monsters can go all day, and after Mom let them eat a plate of her sugar cookies . . .” He shook his head. “I’ll be running out of energy long before they do.”
Jase glanced to where the kids were unsuccessfully trying to roll a ball of snow, but instead of seeing his brother’s kids, he saw his own girls in their childhood, running through the snow-covered backyard, bundled from head to toe, grins gracing their innocent faces.
He’d tried so hard to keep them innocent, separate from his other life, from what he did for a living and his numerous indiscretions.
He’d never wanted to hurt them, but he had.
And now it was time to make a change.
“Build a snowman,” he said, giving his brother a sad smile. “Why the hell not?”
Jase wasn’t stupid enough to think that redemption would be handed to him on a silver platter. But as he walked side by side with his brother, leaning down to grab handfuls of snow as he went, he figured he had to start somewhere.
Might as well start with a snowman.
Chapter Seventeen
“What do you mean, Tegen and Cage are bringing Christopher here?”
With my hands on my hips I glared at Hawk, who was still in bed, looking much the same as I’d left him this morning. Only now he was sitting up, the bed a mess with papers that had been strewn across it, along with bits of food and an ashtray that looked precariously close to spilling over and covering the white sheets in black ash. And someone had lugged the flat screen up the stairs, along with both of Cage’s video game consoles.
It appeared that the boys had been visiting, and nobody had bothered to clean up.
This disgusting mess, coupled with the fact that Hawk hadn’t consulted me about bringing Christopher to Miles City, had taken me from feeling a sort of nervous excitement for what the night might have brought, to being downright irritated with him.
“I didn’t want him seeing you like this,” I continued. “What’s he going to think, finding his father all black and blue, hardly able to walk on his own? How are you going to explain that to him?”
Very slowly, Hawk set down the glass he was holding and turned to look at me in that maddening way he’d always looked at me when he thought I was acting like a lunatic. And maybe I was reacting badly, but if anything he should be used to me and my reactions by now. But what was really irking me, what I absolutely could not fathom, was why he hadn’t grasped yet that it was that damn look that only infuriated me further.
“I missed Christmas,” he said carefully, as if his words were footsteps and my temper was the thin ice he was skating on. “And I want to see my boy.”
“But you didn’t even consult me!” I cried. “And I’m his mother!”
“I’m his father,” Hawk replied coolly. “And I was planning on tellin’ him I wrecked. Fucked my bike up and myself.”
I couldn’t exactly argue with that and yet for some reason, because I had nothing to say in response and was starting to feel a little silly at my Tegen-esque outburst, I grew even more upset.
“Fine,” I muttered. “Fine, whatever, I’m . . .”
I stopped talking to glance quickly around the room, looking for something that would give me an excuse to make a quick exit. My eyes landed on the closest, most plausible excuse.
“I’m going to take a bath,” I said, averting my gaze from Hawk’s always prying eyes, and scurried off across the room.
When the door was closed behind me and I was safely ensconced inside the little room, I leaned back against the tile wall and took a deep, calming breath. I’d been so nervous, so wound up after talking with Eva, full of expectations and excitement for the upcoming evening with Hawk, that once I’d found out Christopher was coming, it had felt as if someone had pulled the plug on my newfound happiness. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Christopher to come to Miles City. I not only missed him, but I wanted him to see his father. It was just that . . .
Maybe I’d wanted Hawk to myself for just a little while, before I had to share him with a child who didn’t see nearly enough of him, and who monopolized the man whenever they were together. Not that it had ever bothered me before, but things were different now, things were changing, and maybe they were changing too quickly. I couldn’t keep up, my emotions couldn’t keep up, and I’d wanted just a couple of days where time could stop, and Hawk and I could get to know each other again. We could talk, make love, just be together for the first time out in the open, before our families, our lives, and the club all caught up to us and time started moving again.