“Probably. What do you think they’re doing up there?” Mike asked.
“Havin’ a pawty!” Rosie said.
“Watchin’ us,” Junie answered.
Mike patted their hands. “Maybe you’re both right.” He eyed Leah. “Do you have plans for the afternoon?”
“No.” Leah glanced at Tank. “Do you?”
He shook his head, holding her gaze. “I’m all yours.” Her cheeks pinked up, and he squeezed her hand.
“What do you say we finish up our ice cream and go for a ride in that old car?” Mike asked. “I could use a trip to the beach.”
The girls cheered and finished their ice cream. As they headed out to the car, the girls holding Mike’s hands and Leah tucked beneath Tank’s arm, she said, “I love your grandfather.”
He had an urge to make a joke about taking the old man down if she got too close to him, but honesty won out. “Me too, babe. Me too.”
“You didn’t tell me the car was so special to you. Are you sure you really want to give it to us?”
“That’s why I want you to have it.”
Chapter Eleven
LEAH SAT WITH Starr on the back porch, nibbling on Goldfish crackers and watching the three girls playing in the yard. Toys were scattered in the grass, and the inside of the house looked like it had been hit by a tornado, but the girls were so excited to play with Gracie, it was worth a little extra cleanup later. Starr had been texting and checking up on them in the week and a half since the funeral, and Leah and Starr had gotten closer. Starr and Gracie had even stopped by last Thursday for a quick visit while Tank was at work. Leah had forgotten how nice it was to have a girlfriend she could trust, and she’d needed a friend that day. She and the girls had missed Tank while he was at work even more than she’d thought they would.
“The girls seem to be doing well,” Starr said as she grabbed a few crackers.
“For the most part they are, but it’s been up and down. We’re still getting used to our new normal. They can be like this one minute and crying for River, or just out of sorts, the next.”
“It’s got to be hard for them to understand.” Starr tucked her long, kinky blond hair behind her ear, gazing at Leah empathetically. “And how about you? How are you really doing?”
“Same as them. Sometimes it seems like it’s been months since we saw him, and other days I expect him to walk through the door and swing an arm over my shoulder, asking how his favorite sister is. I’m still not ready to go through his stuff.”
“I noticed his guitar was still in the living room.”
“I like seeing it there. I remember how final it felt when we went through my dad’s stuff. I’m just not ready for that yet.”
“You don’t have to be. You’ll know when it’s the right time.”
“That’s true. Grief is so weird. I can be okay all day and think I’m getting my arms around it, but then when I put the girls down or I’m lying in bed, I start to miss him, thinking about how unfair it is that he’s gone, and I blubber like a baby.”
“I heard that Steph brought you a basket the other day.”
“She came by Sunday with teas, oils, and ointments for me and goodies for the girls. I had no idea she was a poet. She wrote me a beautiful poem about the love between siblings.”
“Her words are magical, aren’t they? Has the stuff she brought helped? Your scar looks good.”
“Thanks. I’ve been using the oils and ointments she gave me on it.” She ran her finger over the scar on her forehead. The stitches had dissolved, and the doctor had said the scar would diminish over time. Her bruises had faded to yellowish-brown marks, and Tank lavished them with tender kisses every night. “But I haven’t tried her sleep remedies yet.” She watched Starr plucking crackers from the bowl, and her pulse quickened as she mustered her courage to tell her why. “Tank has been staying with me at night.”
Starr looked at the girls playing with their dolls. “Camping out in his truck, right?”
“Not exactly. He’s been staying in my bed, but he gets up before the girls in the morning.” She couldn’t believe she’d admitted that, but she desperately needed to talk to someone about it.
Starr whipped her head to the side, eyes wide. “What? You and Tank?”
“Sorta? Kinda?” Leah shrugged, wrinkling her nose in embarrassment and delight.
Starr gave her a deadpan look. “You have that big, delicious man in your bed and you don’t know if you’re together?”
“It’s complicated. He’s made it clear that he wants to be with me, with us, and I love being with him. He’s good to us, and he makes everything better. I know he doesn’t talk a lot to other people, but he does talk with me and the girls, and he listens and holds us when we’re sad. He even bought me a journal to write down my memories of River so I never forget them.” The gift had touched her deeply, and she wrote in it almost daily. It was cathartic, writing down her memories. “I can tell that he truly cares about us, but…”
“But…?”
“Let’s just say that I don’t think Steph’s remedies can fix the things that are keeping me up at night.”
“Like his massive pocket rocket?” Starr laughed.
I wish. “That’s just it. He flirts with me a lot, and I swear, Starr, when he does, my entire body catches fire.”
“And that’s a problem, why, exactly?”
Leah lowered her voice. “Because he’s a perfect gentleman. We kiss all the time, and let me tell you, that man should patent his mouth. I have never felt like I could, you know, from a kiss, but with his big body pressed against me, the way he grabs my hair, the things he says, and the way he kisses me.” She fanned her face, breathing deeply.
“Girl, I’d give anything for a little of that.”
“Hands off,” Leah teased. “Lord have mercy if we do go further, because if he can plant the field with as much passion as the way he kisses me, he might need to revive me afterward.”
“Plant the field?” Starr laughed.
“What do you call it? Knockin’ boots? Butterin’ the biscuit? Mattress dancin’?” They both laughed. “All I know is, while I’m thankful he’s a gentleman, I can’t take it. Does that make me a hoochie mama for saying that? Is it wrong to want to be closer to him when I just lost my brother?”
“No. Tank adores you, and he obviously adores the girls and knows how to comfort all of you. It makes you a woman who wants to be closer to a seriously sexy, good man.”
“Thank you for that. I’m out of my league here, and it’s really good to have someone to talk to about this stuff. The last time I was with a guy, I was eighteen, and so was he. Tank’s a man.” She whispered, “He’s got nipple piercings.”
Starr laughed. “You didn’t know that?”
“Heck no. Not until I saw him shirtless. How did you know?”
“You can see them through his shirt when he doesn’t wear his vest. Does that worry you? I don’t think he’s into BDSM or anything.”