Go figure.
* * *
Hands in his pockets, head down in thought, Lang walked through the woods connecting the two properties. With plenty of direction from Justin, he and Corbin had improved the way. A few path lights wouldn’t hurt, too, but the moon was bright overhead tonight so he didn’t walk into any spiderwebs.
Having just left Hope, he felt...primed.
He wanted her. So damn much.
Yet odd as it seemed, he relished every small sign of her lessening fear. Initially, she’d watched him with wariness, as well as interest. He’d recognized that even if she hadn’t.
He’d also recognized the alarm. No woman had ever feared him before. It was an incredibly uncomfortable sensation—so how much worse was it for her?
When Corbin had first explained the situation to him, a variety of emotions had bombarded him. Sure, protectiveness. Lang was a big man with sizeable fists and plenty of brawn. He wanted Hope to see that as shelter, not as a threat. God no, never that.
When he’d chased down his brother to offer support and get to know his nephew, not once had he considered the complication of a relationship for himself. And definitely not with a woman like Hope.
But here he was, mired in need.
The need to touch her. The need to kiss her.
The need to have her trust.
Their relationship was a fragile thing, her skittishness still in evidence on occasion, forcing him to tiptoe on eggshells. Progress was made, though, each and every time they were together. Just tonight, she’d stared at his mouth with singular focus. She wanted him, too. Eventually he’d have her.
And then what?
The house was quiet when he let himself him in through the front door. Corbin and Justin might have already gone to bed, so he took off his sneakers and, without turning on any lights, made his way through the house. He was just about to head downstairs to his room when he heard muted voices upstairs.
Thinking he’d tell them both good night, he went upstairs instead of down.
A low light came from Justin’s room. He heard Corbin ask, “What’s wrong, son?”
“Nothin’.”
Not wanting to intrude, Lang stopped out of sight.
After a brief hesitation, Corbin said, “The thing is, you’re my son and I love you. I feel like we’re getting settled in, right?”
Silence.
“I can tell when something’s bothering you now, just like you’d be able to tell with me.” The bed squeaked, and Lang assumed his brother had just sat down. “We’re in this together, you and me.”
“And Uncle Lang?”
“Yes.”
“And Ivey?”
Wow, Lang thought. The kid was bringing out the big questions. He felt for Corbin, knowing the stretch of silence meant he wasn’t sure how to answer.
Finally Corbin said, “I care about Ivey. You do, too, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? Something to do with Ivey?”
It was Justin’s turn to be quiet, then in a voice so low Lang could barely hear him, he asked, “Will I ever see my mom again?”
Oh Christ.
Lang put a hand over his eyes, his throat going tight. Hearing the uncertainty in Justin’s voice broke his heart as nothing else could. And his poor brother, caught trying to find a way to answer that wouldn’t cause the kid more hurt. Damn Darcie for dumping him as she had. He locked his teeth so tight that his jaw ached.
“Do you want to see her?” Corbin finally asked.
“I don’t know.” Seconds ticked by, each one painful. “She’s my mom, so I guess I should.”
“Let’s not worry about what you should do, okay? Do you want to? And listen, bud, there is no wrong answer, okay? No matter what you say, I’ll keep on loving you, and I would never—”
“No.”
Lang tangled a hand in his hair and gave a small tug. Damn it, his eyes were getting damp.
“So...” Corbin floundered for a moment. “You were asking because you want to know what to expect?”
“Yeah.” More rustling in the bed.
Lang peeked in and saw Justin sitting up, his legs crossed yoga style, his bony shoulders hunched. “If I see her, I guess that’d be okay, but I don’t want to leave here.”
“Never,” Corbin vowed softly. “If your mom visits you, it won’t change anything. You’ll still live with me.”
“You sure?” Justin edged closer to him.
“You’re mine and I will never, ever let you go.” Corbin drew him into his lap and held him close. “I love you, Justin. So damn much.” He put his jaw to the crown of Justin’s head. “Your mom has some things to work out, but I know she loves you, too.”
Justin chewed that over. “She sent me away.”
“She sent you to me because she knows no one will ever love and protect you like I will. She was in a tough spot and she made the best decision she could. Okay?”
Rubbing his eyes and then his nose, Justin nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. So...that helps?”
“Yeah.” He twisted away and got back under the covers. “Thanks, Dad.”
Lang dropped his head silently back against the wall, tortured by his nephew’s pain. How could Corbin bear it? He was so proud of his brother for seeming to know the right thing to say and the right way to say it. To give credit to Darcie? No, Lang didn’t think he could have, but of course it wouldn’t help Justin to know that his mother had completely abandoned him. Corbin had understood that.
His brother was one hell of a man.
Lang stood there in the hall, eyes closed, his thoughts and emotions rioting, until Justin called out, “Good night, Uncle Lang.”
His eyes popped open. Oh hell. Busted. Leaning around the door frame, Lang peered in and saw Corbin giving him a sardonic smile.
“Did you want to tell Justin good night?” Corbin asked. “Or were you angling for a hug?”
“I was hoping to be asked.” Trying not to look maudlin, Lang grinned and sauntered in.
“I figured.” Corbin kissed Justin on the forehead—something Justin no longer shied away from. “Good night, son. If you need anything, or if you want to talk some more, just come to my room, okay? Anytime.” When Justin nodded, Corbin stood to give Lang room.
Sitting by his nephew, Lang asked, “You brushed your teeth?”