Worth the Fall (The McKinney Brothers, #1)(61)

His body tightened around hers, like he could protect her somehow, even from the past. But he couldn’t.

“Kind of funny, if you think about it. He was really cute. White and fluffy.” She left out how she’d broken away and chased their car. How she’d run as fast and far as she could go, only stopping when she fell on the gravelly road. Then the car turned the corner and they were gone. And she’d felt lost…insignificant.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for me.”

“No. You’re too strong for that.”

“There were others. Some I remember well, some I don’t.” But she did remember that she’d tried way too hard and believed way too long that things would be different. That next time it would last. “You learned and it got easier.”

“What did you learn, baby?”

His words were just a whisper and so were hers. “Not to get attached. Not to want anyone. You tell yourself it won’t last, so when it ends you won’t be surprised.” You leave them before they leave you, even if it’s only in your mind, because that’s all a child can do.

It had taken a few more times of settling in, then waking up one day to find that she wasn’t wanted after all, for her to learn the lessons she needed to survive. To make the rule not to care.

Yet here she was with Matt’s arms around her, her back to his front, and once again she’d told him things she’d never told anyone else. It felt right somehow, safe.

And in every way too good to be true.

—

Matt knelt in front of the swing. Annie stared back at him through hazel eyes, the green and gold flecks glistening with tears. He watched her battle not to let even one tear fall. She’d opened up in the last two days. Played with him. Talked to him. He’d lose ground, but he’d work hard to make it up.

“Bye, princess.”

Annie didn’t say a word. One step forward, two steps back. Maybe three.

“Matt, watch me,” Gracie said, flying down the slide, then twirling across the yard.

“Nice twirl, ladybug.” He kissed the top of Annie’s head, stood, and stared down at her another second. With his heart heavy, he walked to the other end of the play-set where an opening under the monkey bars led to the fort above. Putting his hands on the edge, he pulled himself up easily and sat with his legs hanging out. Bright yellow maples stood out against a deep blue sky. The wind blew, rustling the changing leaves in the branches—the sound of fall. The perfect day for a man to spend outside with his kids.

“Hey, bud.”

Jack stared through the plastic telescope. “Hey.”

“I have to go. I’m sorry.” A lifetime of I’m sorry and doling out disappointment spread in front of him like black space.

“I know. You have to save people. It’s okay.”

Jack’s understanding only made it worse as Matt hugged him goodbye.

“Someday, I’ll be a hero like you,” Jack said.

And the knife in his gut twisted. He was no hero.

Matt hopped down from the play fort. He grabbed up Gracie from where she was pulling flowers, tossed her into the air, and brought her in for a crushing hug.

“You’re queezing me,” she said, even as her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms choked his neck.

He loosened his hold and she pulled back. “I picked you some fowers.” She stuck them under his nose.

“Thank you, baby.”

She sniffed them and fingered the collar of his shirt. “Are you tumming back?”

“Always,” he said and gave her one last squeeze before putting her down and walking inside to face an even harder goodbye.

He found Abby standing at the window overlooking the backyard. He stepped up behind her and slid his hands around her middle, hoping to feel the baby move one more time before he left. His chest tightened when she covered his hands with her own.

Running his lips up the side of her neck, he breathed her in as her head fell back. God, he loved her. He’d known her barely six weeks, had visited her twice, slept beside her less than a handful of nights, yet leaving her made him physically nauseous. And the kids? That was just f*cking painful. Part of him was grateful Charlie had fallen asleep. “I hate saying goodbye to them.”

“I know, but they love you.”

The words stopped something in his heart. “And what about their mother?”

Abby’s fingers tensed on top of his. Damn it. He shouldn’t have asked, knew better than to push. He saw what he needed to see in her eyes when they made love. Matt turned her in his arms. “Jury’s still out on that, huh?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood as he gently tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“It’s not that. It’s just…Maybe we’re not—”

“Shh.” Matt touched his forehead to hers. Her breath kissed his face. “I’m scared too. That you’ll tell me not to come back. That it’s too hard for you, for the kids.”

She eased away, shaking her head slowly. “You have a job, an important one. I underst—”

“You’re important.” His words rushed out and he took her face between his palms. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

But he knew she did. He pressed soft kisses over her troubled eyes, her worried brow and serious mouth. Raising his head, he brought her chin up until she looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby, I swear, but please don’t ask me to let you go. Give us a chance. Give me a chance.”