Page 20 of Secret Heart
I breathe in slowly as I focus on him and my daughter. His eyes are full of the same question everyone else has had sinceTriston walked in. When I nod once, his lips flatten and he scrunches his nose in an almost grimace.
“What’s that face for?” Scott asks as he walks by with a plate full of steaks. “I didn’t even burn them this time.”
Despite everything, I manage a small smile. To my knowledge, Scott’s never once burned food when he’s grilling. Ethan starts to say something, but a kid’s happy squeal cuts him off.
“Mom! Mom, look!” Camden comes running in from the back patio, rushing around the furniture and skidding to a stop beside Brielle. In his hand is a single white daffodil. He’s been obsessed with flowers since he was a toddler and starting kindergarten this last year hasn’t dulled that love at all. “Papa let me pick it for you.”
Bless that kid.
Before Ethan can try and bring it up again, Lynn and Scott are standing together on the other side of the island, and Scott whistles loud enough to cut through the din of everyone chatting. Once everyone’s focused on him, he smiles and lifts his bottle of beer.
“To Triston,” he says warmly. “Congratulations on your historic win.”
Triston smiles and holds up his own beer in acceptance as everyone claps and cheers. His gaze flicks to Penny, and his throat moves with a swallow. The elephant’s suffocating the room, but no one acknowledges it.
“Thank you,” he murmurs.
Penny wiggles against Ethan, and he sets her down. She runs straight for me, tapping on my leg. “Up, Dada.”
The tension in the room is thick enough to choke as I ease her up onto my hip and she presses her lips to my cheek, leaving a wet mark behind. Triston’s eyes are glassy when I look at him again. A rope tightens around my chest. I have no idea what todo, how to handle any of this right now, especially not in front of my entire family.
“We’re happy to have you here for the next few weeks,” Lynn adds in a valiant attempt to cut through the silence. “Now come grab some food.”
Triston manages a small smile and nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Twelve
EMILY
Headlights brighten the meadow, turning my lids a bright pink. With a sigh, I slowly open my eyes and pull my leg up until I can wrap my arms around my knees. Beau slowly closes the door to his work truck and leans against it, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. It’s dark enough I can’t tell the details of his expression.
I don’t move from my perch on the guest house’s porch railing, my body still trembling even hours later. I hadn’t bothered to turn on the porch light, so there’s only the mostly full moon illuminating this part of the meadow. Whatever he can see of me has him running a hand through his hair and then pulling Penny from her carseat and into his arms. Her hair’s still in the ponytails, but someone’s put her in a set of footed pajamas. He carries her into our house without looking back at me, her diaper bag slung over one shoulder.
Vanilla explodes around me, just like it has in intervals the last few hours, tinged with my fear and panic and embarrassment. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the support post, trying to breathe through the tangled mess ofemotions that are choking me. I’d thought I’d dealt with all of them, had gone through the stages of grief when we’d first had Penny and I saw just how much she looks like him.
Apparently not.
Beau’s steps crunch on the gravel between the two houses. I can’t help but tense. There’s no way I can lay in bed right now, no matter how much we both need to sleep. The wood creaks under his boots, but his warm weight doesn’t follow. After a minute, I drop my chin to see what he’s doing. He’s sitting on the swing on the other side of the porch, his arm thrown across the back and his ankle resting on his other knee. He carefully sets the baby monitor on the railing nearest him. His face is soft despite exhaustion lining his mouth and darkening his under eyes.
“I won’t be able to sleep,” I say.
He nods. “I know.”
His voice is as warm as it is quiet, a comforting blanket cast over my shoulders. Of course he would know. For some reason, the deep-rooted intimacy wrecks me just as much as watching Triston’s face fall as he saw Penny in the private barn. I blink back tears as I drop my head to my knees, a wave of despair-drenched vanilla moving out from me.
“Emily, come here,” Beau whispers.
I just shake my head. If I move right now, I’m going to run. All those defenses he’s slowly worked his way inside are going to drop right back into place, and I’ll be running to Mom and Dad’s. I suck in a breath. Except that’s whereheis, and that won’t be any safer.
The porch creaks, and then Beau’s arms are around me, pulling me into his chest without a word. He walks us back to the swing and arranges me on his lap, running his hand through my hair and tracing small shapes on my thigh. The tears are harder to fight back, but I manage to keep them from falling. I breathe him in, the woody undertones of his shampoo and colognemixed with the smells of the cattle barns and my own vanilla. There’s a smattering of the other Alphas, too, light enough it’s just from being at dinner with them all. None of them have any kind of edge. No anger, no shock, no warning signals that precede a fight.
Dinner must have gone just fine, then.
“We need to talk about it,” he says after a long while.
I shake my head.
Beau tightens his hold on my hair and kisses the top of my head. And then he proves he knows me too well.
