Come Back for Me (Arrowood Brothers #1)(50)

We both do.

“I care about him, Mom. I know he cares about me, but what if I’m wrong about him? What if he doesn’t want us if Hadley isn’t his? What if he finds out that Hadley is his and does want a family but I’m too broken? It’s too much, and I’m scared. God, I’m so scared to make the same mistakes, but . . . I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to resist him. And that’s what scares me the most. If only you were here to tell me what to do, Mom.”





“Are you avoiding me?” Connor’s deep voice causes me to startle as I stand facing the moon.

Once I get my heart to stop racing, I shake my head. “Not any more than you’re avoiding me.”

Hadley went to bed two hours ago, and I worked on papers while Connor was out doing something on the farm. We’ve seen each other in passing since the kiss last night, but it’s been as though we’re orbiting each other, not quite able to stop the spinning. I’ve wanted to talk to him, but we haven’t had time or Hadley has been around.

I was hoping he’d find me out here so we could figure out whatever is going on between us.

“Ahh, that’s where you’re wrong. I’m not doing anything like that, Angel. I’m just working and trying to get this damn barn fixed up so we can move the cows, which your foreman said I needed to do by the end of the week.”

The wind blows, pushing my hair in front of my face, and I pull the blanket that’s wrapped around my shoulders a little tighter. Snow will be here soon, and it makes sense to move the cattle to the closer pasture.

“How did you grow up on a dairy farm and not retain any information about running it?”

Connor shrugs with that swagger I’ve come to look for. “I had no intention of ever living on or running one, so it wasn’t information I cared about.”

I guess that makes sense. “Will you tell me about your childhood?”

“There’s not much to it.”

My head tilts to the side. I don’t believe that for a minute. “You grew up here with three older brothers. There had to be something you can tell me about.”

He moves closer, his eyes looking out at the fields in front of us. “Do you see that tree out there?”

“Yes.”

“That’s where my brother convinced me that I was a descendant of Superman and that flying was in my blood. He also told me that he had a vial of kryptonite, and if I didn’t take my chances on the flying thing, I would die.”

I laugh once and cover my mouth with the blanket. “And did you fly?”

He huffs. “No, and I broke my nose and two ribs. But”—Connor’s grin grows—“the whooping that Sean got for making me do it was almost worth it. I swear that he couldn’t sit for three days.”

“Boys,” I say with a huff.

“You have no idea. We were the town hell raisers. My mother would walk around apologizing and swearing she raised us to do better. But four boys with a lot of time on their hands and wild imaginations were a mixture she couldn’t contain.”

I love hearing these kinds of stories about him. “I wished I had siblings.”

“I wished I didn’t.”

“You would’ve been very lonely on this vast farm with no one to get in trouble with.”

Connor tilts his head to the side. “Maybe you’re right. When my brothers left, it was hard on me. I was stuck here—alone—and I hated it. Although, if Mom had been alive, maybe it wouldn’t have been that way.”

“How did she die?” I ask and immediately wish I could take it back.

I remember the pain in Connor’s eyes when he spoke of his mother, and I know my own when I think of mine. It’s hard to lose a parent. They created you, molded you into the person you are, and when they aren’t there any longer, it’s as though a piece of your whole existence is gone. I’ve grappled with losing both of mine in an instant. There was no goodbye or chance to say things we needed to. I have no closure, and I hope that Connor did get some, no matter how much it probably isn’t a comfort.

“Cancer. It was fast and it was fierce. We found out, and then it feels like I blinked and she was gone. My brothers and I were . . . a fucking mess, but my father, well,” his voice is soft and filled with pain, “we buried him alongside her that day only his body didn’t go into the hole. He was never the same, and neither was the life we thought we had.”

I reach out, taking his hand in mine. “I don’t know that any of us get back to the life we thought we had after tragedy strikes. Someone or something rips it away, and we’re left drifting.”

His eyes watch mine with an intensity that makes my stomach clench. “Are you still drifting, Ellie?”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think I am.”

“Why not?”

“Because you won’t let me.”

He lifts his hand, cupping my cheek as he stares down at me. “Will you let me kiss you again?”

I’ve both wanted and avoided this moment. Equal parts of me being torn apart by desire and fear. I want to kiss him again, to feel his lips on mine and give myself over to the moment. Then I worry that, if I were to let myself hope for more and I lose him, it will break me even more than I already have been broken.