When Blake opened the door to see his two former brothers-in-law, he had to fight the urge to pull them into a hug. He hadn’t seen them in almost two years. He and the Hale brothers had been close, and losing Natalie had also meant losing her family.
“Here to break my legs?” he asked instead. After all, Matt probably wouldn’t respond too well to a hug right now. He looked like a pissed off defensive linebacker eager to flatten him to the ground.
“No,” Andy replied as Matt opened his mouth—probably to say something very different. “We’re just here to talk. Blake, I’m so sorry about Adam. More than I can say.”
“Yes, you have our deepest condolences,” Matt said, dialing back the PO factor.
There was a flare of grief in his chest. “Thanks. I appreciate that. He had a tough year before he passed. In the end, I think he was ready.” The day before he’d died, his brother had confessed how much pain he was in and how tired he was of fighting. Blake had told him it was okay to go, and Adam had given him one last smile before slipping into unconsciousness.
When he held out his hand for a shake, Andy bypassed it and pulled him into a hug. “It’s really good to see you, man.”
He clapped him on the back before releasing him and had to wipe away some tears when he pulled away. He held out his hand to Matt, waiting to see if he would shake it. “I don’t expect a hug.”
Matt snorted, but he shook his hand willingly enough. “Funny. I’m not much of a hugger.”
It was a start.
He’d made this move to Dare Valley knowing he would have to win over Natalie’s family as much as he would Natalie. The Hales were a unit, and he knew he had allies among them. The question was, would that influence Natalie? She had a head like a rock when it came to listening to anyone.
“Come on in,” he said, heading to the kitchen. “I know it’s early, but would you like a beer?”
“I’m fine,” Matt replied, now sounding every inch of his nickname, Matty Ice.
“Sounds great,” Andy added, and Blake didn’t miss the elbow he landed in his brother’s ribs. “This is a big change from your place in Denver.”
Blake opened a beer for himself, then slid an IPA and a bottle opener to Andy across the navy granite island in the center of the kitchen.
“Sure you don’t want one?” he asked Matt, who shook his head.
“Let’s head outside. Nice to have warm weather finally. Winter was a bitch this year.”
“Blake,” Matt said in a cool tone, “this isn’t a social visit. Natalie informed me this morning that you up and bought my neighbor’s house and built a bridge connecting your properties.”
Rather than answer right away, he led them out to the back patio. Sure, the deck was smaller than the one he had in Denver—heck the whole house was smaller by two thousand square feet—but it had a killer view of the mountains. Settling back into a deck chair, he kicked his feet out in front of him. This conversation was going to take a while—or so he hoped—and he wanted to get comfortable.
Andy sat in an adjoining chair and pushed another toward his brother. “Come on, Matty Ice. Take a load off.”
When Matt dropped down into the chair, Blake settled the bottle on his knee and looked from one of the Hale brothers to the other, staring each of them straight in the eye like he’d do with his teammates in the middle of a losing game.
“Two months ago at the Denver Raiders’ annual spring dinner, your sister kissed me. Even more telling, she actually cried. I know she still loves me, and God knows I love her. I left football to show her she’s everything to me in the hopes she would finally let me back into her life. After Kim died, she totally shut down.”
Andy flinched, and though he hated to bring up memories that were painful for all of them, Blake pressed on.
“She wouldn’t talk about it. She wouldn’t grieve. And then a few days after the funeral, she picked a fight with me about having a baby and left. I tried to…dammit…reach out to her, but she wouldn’t even talk to me, let alone agree to marriage counseling. She sure as hell wouldn’t go to the therapist I recommended so she could talk about Kim.”
This time Matt looked away, his jaw locked. Blake took a sip of his beer to wet his dry throat.
“You both know her. She hasn’t been herself. I’m not saying I expected her to do jumping jacks after Kim died. But Natalie shut out the world around her. I know what it’s like to grieve for a brother, and your sister hasn’t let herself mourn Kim.”
“How do you know she hasn’t worked through her emotions since she left you?” Matt asked.
“She was living in a crappy place in Denver. You both know it. She didn’t paint any walls or put up any pictures. She refused to take the majority of her stuff from our house. That’s not Natalie.”