“Oh,” he teases, backing away slowly. “I like this new Camilla. Where’d she come from?”
“Don’t push it.”
“You sure you don’t want to talk me out of it? Remind me how bad it’s going to hurt later?”
“Nope,” I say. “I’m going to go to the pharmacy and buy adult bubble bath and ice packs and ace bandages. If I have to worry about you getting hurt, you have to deal with me fawning all over you when you get home.”
He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. His smile as wide as his shoulders says it all. With a little wave and a shout of goodbye to Ryder, he’s in his car and pulling out of the parking lot in a minute.
The Camaro rips around the corner and is out of sight. I stand watching where he was parked, reveling in the easiness of things right now. Over the past few days, since the fight with Graham and Dom’s revelation about his teenage years, things have been a little different. Less complicated. A touch closer. More intimate.
We aren’t there, yet, not to the place where I feel like we’ve crossed the hurdles and are on solid ground. There’s still so much to work through. But progress is progress.
I turn to watch Ryder struggle to get in the swing. “Let me help you, buddy,” I say, crossing the curb and padding through the grass. I get him situated and then pull the swing back and let him go free.
“Higher, Camilla!”
His laugh pierces the air, a stark contrast to the rather dismal surroundings. He’s making the best of what he has.
“You’re an inspiration, Ryder. You know that?”
“What’s a spiration?”
“An in-spiration,” I say, slowing the word down, “means that you inspire me.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“That’s okay. It’s a good thing.”
He pumps his legs back and forth, the tail of his superhero cape floating behind him. “You know what else is a good thing, Camilla?”
“What’s that?”
“Little brothers!”
“What do you know about little brothers?”
“Well, Chrissy’s sister has two little boys and they get to play together all the time. I told Daddy I need a little brother. Chrissy said I should tell him so I did.”
“I bet she did,” I say, laughing. “But a little brother would need a mommy, Ry, and I don’t think your daddy has picked one yet.”
“You could be my mommy.”
“Oh, well . . .” I say, realizing what I just walked into. “I’m not your daddy’s girlfriend. I’m your Uncle Dom’s. So I could be your aunt, but not your mommy. Although, any woman that gets to spend time with you is a lucky ducky.”
He grins at me, his eyes sparkling like Dom’s. “You make me happy.”
“You make me happy too, little guy.” I slow him down until his miniature cowboy boots drag the dirt. “I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“Instead of spending the day here, why don’t we go to my house?”
“Could we?” he asks, jumping off the swing.
“Absolutely. Let me check with your daddy first.”
“I could’ve brought him home,” I tell Nate as he comes through the door. “It would’ve been no big deal.”
“I’d hate for you to have to get out and lug him around, especially if he’s asleep.”
“He passed out a few hours ago.” I tuck my legs under me on the sofa and watch Nate take in my living room. “I think I wore him out. We played at your apartment, then I took him down to Marcone Park and fed the ducks and got an ice cream, then we watched a movie.”
“All in one day? Shit, Priss. He won’t want to leave.”
Laughing, I pick up my glass of hot tea. “It was fun. When Dom called and told me he had to go do an emergency HVAC job, I tried to get Ryder to take a bath. But he kind of just used my tub as a swimming pool.”
“Sounds about right.”
The lamps around the room cast a soft light on Nate’s features. It mutes the general sternness he projects and makes me wonder how he would’ve ended up had he not had the upbringing he did.
He’s handsome. Not quite as good-looking as Dom, but almost. They’re both intelligent and hard workers. I can see them both sitting in suits at a business meeting or on the arm of a woman at one of the fancy dinners my parents attend regularly. The thought makes me smile.
“So,” Nate says, clearing his throat, “Dom told me you and one of your brothers had a falling out.”
“Yeah.” My heart tumbles as Graham is brought up. He hasn’t called me and I haven’t called him. I pick up my phone at least twice a day and almost give in and reach out and then I remember—I have nothing to apologize for. I put the phone back down.
I hate this between us. It’s something I can’t shake. Even though I do believe, without a doubt, he means well, I can’t act like this is okay because it’s not. Graham will never respect me if I let him walk all over me.
“If it’s my fault . . .”
“It’s not your fault,” I insist. “It’s . . . it’s the joining of a bunch of different things. Family growing pains, I guess. I don’t know.”
“I can tell it bothers you.”
“Yeah,” I rasp. “My family is really close. Like you and Dominic but there are six of us. I’ve gone this long without talking to one of them lots of times, but never because we’re actually mad.”
“Can I help somehow?”
I shake my head, putting my tea back on the table. “No. It’ll work out.”
He looks away and lets out a breath. “Did they not like Dom?”
I know what he’s implying, questioning, and I feel terrible that such a thing would cross his mind. “Ford and Lincoln did like him, actually. You know Sienna loves him. I mean, what’s not to love?”
“Lots of things,” he chuckles. “But he’s a good guy. I know you know that.”
“I do.”
He turns to face me, his eyes pure sincerity. “Dom is the only person in my entire life I can count on. I don’t know how much he’s told you about parts of our childhood . . .”
“Enough to understand what you’re saying.”
“He told you? About . . . that?”
It’s like he can’t say the words, and I just want to jump up and hug him tight. But I don’t. “He did,” I whisper.
He heaves another breath. “He bore the brunt of our dad’s problems. He was the one that couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t stand to see the damage the next morning. Dom feels things more than I do, I guess. Or maybe he paid more attention or was around more because he was younger.”
His head hangs. “I should’ve protected him. That night, I—”
“Nate.” I wait for him to look at me. When he does, his eyes about slaughter me. “Nothing that your dad did was your fault. And what happened that night was a terrible accident that neither of you wanted but happened anyway.”
“He’s never been the same, Priss. There’s been a piece of Dominic that’s been a little untouchable since that gun went off. Like . . . it’s like something happened when that trigger was pulled that made him feel . . . less. Dirty. He’s carried that shit around ever since.” He makes sure I’m listening before continuing. “Only recently have I caught glimpses of the brother I used to know.”