“Yay, I love that we’re all Bradys.” Joshua skipped with Macon as we passed the line, and I gave everyone a bright smile, trying to ignore the awkward tension.
The rest of them were Bradys. I wasn’t even an ex, technically. I hadn’t taken Nate’s last name.
And I wasn’t engaged or married to him now.
I wasn’t a Brady.
And I didn’t know if I wanted to be.
We made our way to an open section of the park where we could lay out our large blankets, claiming our territory. There was the main stage, but we didn’t need to get too close to be able to hear anything. Everyone else could get closer and be bunched together. We liked our space, and with the screens and speakers, you weren’t missing anything if you were a little farther away.
“Okay, I’m heading off to start the first food run.”
“I’m with you,” Nate added.
“We’ll all take turns, but we should have at least more than one person, given the amount of land,” Paris said, looking out at the rest of our area like a drill sergeant.
Cross smiled. “We’ve got it.”
“Oh yes, you do. Now, come and take these,” Hazel ordered. “I’ve made a list.”
I groaned. “Really? A list of the food we need?”
“A list of places to go. I already looked up many of the trucks, so we should be able to get to them before it gets too busy. And this way, we at least get the food we want, and maybe find a few surprises along the way. Dakota, Macon, and Joshua can hang out here. I will bring food to them like they’re Roman gods.”
“I like the sound of that,” Dakota said, leaning against Macon as Joshua ran around the two of them, laughing.
“Okay then, troops. Let’s head out.”
Nate put his hand in mine, and we made our way to the funnel cake area.
“Really? We get stuck with the funnel cakes?”
“To start. At least so Joshua can taste it. We’re not going with dessert after everything. This is going to be fun. And probably gross.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
It was a bit crowded, so we were jostled a bit, but when someone ran right into me, their shoulder digging into mine, and their elbow piercing, I tripped and pressed into Nate, trying not to fall flat on my face.
He frowned and righted me since I had nearly fallen.
“Are you okay? What the hell?”
I rubbed my shoulder and my side, looking around. “I could have sworn that was Roland.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t. It can’t be. Why would he be here?”
“Are you sure it wasn’t your cousin? You said he was angry.”
I frowned, shaking my head again. “No. It wasn’t him. Just a man with dark hair. It surprised me, I guess, and I put Roland’s face on everybody I’m angry at lately.”
“I’m glad it’s not me these days,” Nate said dryly, and I knew he said it to cut the tension, but I was still worried.
I looked over my shoulder again, rubbing my side. “That did hurt.”
“Do you need to go to the med-tech tent to have it checked out? Or do you need to go home? Want me to look?”
“No, I’m fine. Nothing a funnel cake can’t fix.”
Nate searched my face and then pinched my chin before kissing me softly. “I’ll get you anything you want, Myra. All you need to do is ask.”
I swallowed hard and held back a smile.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? He would do anything I asked now.
But what if I didn’t know what I wanted?
We got our funnel cake and a couple of other things on the list to the point where our hands were full, and we were laughing. The food smelled amazing. Nothing was too junky here. Everything was perfect. We made our way back to the blankets at the same time as everybody else, and soon, we were tasting beer, eating tacos and teriyaki chicken on a stick, and inhaling funnel cakes and falafels and other random things we had picked up.
“I’m stuffed,” I said, leaning against Nate’s back. Everybody was sprawled on top of one another, looking like deities after a feast. Nate kissed my temple before eating another bite of a new funnel cake. I laughed, looking down at my hair, knowing I had powdered sugar everywhere.
“For the love of God, if ants find me and dig their way into my hair, I will never forgive you.”
“Now that’s an image that I’m never going to be able to get out of my mind,” Paris said dryly. She looked over at us and shook her head. “First of all, you two are too cute. Second, Nate, clean up your woman. Don’t throw sugar all over her.”
“Should I make a joke about how she’s already sweet enough?” he asked, and I groaned, closing my eyes.
“That was ridiculous.”
I saw the questioning glances, and I knew that nobody would ask outright.
Are they serious? What exactly is going on? Does she love him? Does he love her?
Those were all very good questions, ones that I was not going to address because I didn’t want to know the answers.
We needed to go slower than we had before. And that was the problem. There was always the before when it came to Nate and me.
I didn’t know if I could love him again. Or let myself acknowledge that I maybe already did.
Or remember that I always had.
And that was the problem. I had never truly fallen out of love with Nate.
I hadn’t let myself say the words, but they had always been there in the back of my mind. Waiting. Lurking. Whenever I went on a date with someone else or caught my reflection in the mirror, thinking of something happy about my future, Nate was there.
And now, he was here, wrapped around me, his family surrounding us as we listened to music and enjoyed ourselves.
There was no going back from this. If I broke again, I would have to walk away. And I didn’t know if I was strong enough to do that.
It might be smarter for us to walk away now, to go back to only being friends or at least trying to be—with nothing else in between.
Or perhaps it’d be better if I just walked away entirely. Cut ties. No one would be hurt.
I didn’t know the right answers. All I knew was that if Nate left again, or pushed me away, I wasn’t sure I’d be strong enough to pick up the pieces.
And the worst part was, I didn’t know if I had picked them up from before when he shattered me the first time.
Chapter 16
Nate
I was falling in love with my ex-wife. And why did that sound like I was living in a country song?
Maybe because I was living a country song.
I couldn’t fall for Myra. Not this fast. Not this hard. Not again.
But here we were, weeks into being together. Weeks into staying with each other nearly every night and day. Weeks into me bringing Daisy over to her house so I could work in her living room while she was in her studio, so we could be close. Weeks into her coming to sketch while Daisy crawled all over her, and I worked on my latest project.
All those weeks, and we had fallen right back into one another. It should’ve been a problem. It was a problem. But I didn’t want it to be one. I didn’t want to fall as hard as I was. But here I was, and there was no going back—a phrase I told myself often. Because I was falling for my ex-wife. For Myra. And I didn’t think she would ever be able to fall for me again.