He steps past me and walks into the house. I turn and look up at the full moon. It kills me knowing that they’re both hurting, but even witnessing that pain, I know Leighton was right in pushing me toward revealing the truth to them. I meant every word I just told him. I know he wouldn’t be able to move on with the trust issues and anger that our past instilled in us. It held me back for too long. I wish I had had someone to push this on me years ago. I might have lost years of my life with Leigh because of the woman that birthed me and the man that raised me, but I will do everything in my power to make sure my siblings don’t lose that time too.
With a sigh, I push off the railing and turn to enter the house. No, not just a house . . . home. My home with Leighton. She’s standing in the doorway, her beast/cat in her arms, and her heart in her eyes. The illumination from the lights behind her cast her in some angelic-like glow. Fuck, I sound like a damn Hallmark card.
“Put him down, darlin’.”
She doesn’t question me. My tone is desperate. I need this stolen moment before entering the house. After placing Earl on his legs, she opens the screen door and steps into the darkness with me, the door shutting softly behind her with a low creak. She’s in my arms seconds later. Her legs come up and she wraps them around my waist with a little help. I drop my face to her neck and breathe her in, taking the strength her very existence brings me.
“I’m proud of you, cowboy,” she breathes; her softly spoken words make me tighten my hold. “They’re hurting because it’s fresh, but you’ve given them something they’ve been missing for a long damn time tonight.”
“What’s that, baby?”
“All of you,” she answers, and, fuck me, I stand there and have to fight to take a breath through the tightness in my chest.
“How’s Quinn?” I question after finally gaining control over myself.
Leigh pulls back and gives me a sad smile. “She wants to see her. Not tomorrow, maybe not even next year, but she wants it all the same.”
“If that’s what she wants.” The last thing I want is to see her again, but for Quinn, I would move mountains.
“Come on, let’s go back inside.” She drops her legs after giving me a quick kiss and takes my hand to lead me into our home.
Leigh lets my hand drop after a quick squeeze when we step into the living room. Quinn rushes into my arms and hugs me tightly. No words are spoken, but by the time we sit down, some of the melancholy that had settled over all of us has dissipated. Both of them are still shaken up, but by the time they leave we’re all laughing after spending hours telling stories about the good memories we had growing up together.
Love is a powerful thing. Now that I’ve opened myself up to that with Leighton, I know it really can conquer all. The love that Leighton and I share brought me back from the darkest times I had ever been through. The love we both have for my siblings will go a long way while they take the steps they need to truly let go of our past. With any luck, they’ll find themselves experiencing the same divine power I get rushing through my veins every time the woman I love is near.
Sometimes it takes hitting rock bottom to find your way again. You have to be lost before you can ever be found. It might have taken me years, but when I hugged them good-bye I knew without a single shadow of doubt that I’m no longer adrift.
Turning from the door, I see Leigh walking back into the living room from the kitchen. She’s doing whatever it is that chicks do to put their hair in some ball on the top of their head. Her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she focuses on her task. The second she sees me leaning against the closed front door, she rushes to finish. A few pieces fall, her thick hair refusing to stay in place. She blows at them until they aren’t in her eyes and gives me my reason for breathing. Her smile grows, her eyes brighten, and the rush from her love fills my body with overwhelming supremacy.
“You okay, Maverick?” she asks softly.
“I am now, Leighton. I am now.”
Epilogue
LEIGHTON
“Eight Second Ride” by Jake Owen
Four Months Later
“We’re out of apple, birthday cake, and cookie dough!” Jana yells through the kitchen doorway.
I huff and look up at the clock. Only two in the afternoon, and I already feel like I’ve been run ragged. Fridays are normally a little busier than Monday through Thursday, but it seems like today especially has been nonstop since we opened the door.
I was in a sour mood anyway because Maverick’s been out of town for the past two days. He has a friend in Wyoming who breeds bucking stock and went out there to talk about his needs for the school he’s building. Well, I call it a school, but I think it’s more like a training camp. An elite training camp, that is.
As much as I’m supportive and excited that he’s making great progress in his plans, I hate when he’s gone. We’ve been able to grab a few calls here and there, but for the most part, I haven’t heard from him a lot since he left. When we talked last night he said he wouldn’t be home until Sunday. This normally wouldn’t be such a big deal.
I’m an independent woman.
Or so I thought.
It took one night without him for me to realize I had lost all ability to sleep without his arms around me. I’ve gotten so used to his presence that I don’t like not feeling his dominant energy taking over our home. Even Earl’s been pouting. He sat on the other side of my shower door this morning and wouldn’t move so I could open it. I had to push it, and him, to get out. I’m completely thrown off my axis and I hate it.
It’s been a few months since our dinner with Clay and Quinn. For the first two weeks after, my demands at the PieHole kept me away during the day and past dinner. Maverick made it a point to start his day after I had woken up, even if that meant he got a late start with his own work for the day. I never asked, but I have a feeling that was something he needed after everything that had come out that night. Whether it was reassuring himself that he really was in our home or that I was there with him, I’m not sure, but I gave him that without question.
Clay comes over often now to talk. He and Mav talk outside, rocking in the porch chairs long after the sun has set, and I’m none the wiser to what they discuss, but I’m hoping that it’s just Clay leaning on his brother, taking the help and support that Mav promised to give him. If they ever need me to be part of that, I’ll be ready and willing. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the both of them.
Quinn, on the other hand, has been more of a challenge. I know she’s having a hard time knowing the enormity of her parents’ transgressions. With Buford gone, she can’t get answers from him. Not that he would have given them. They might have put a lot behind them after he got sick, but she never forgot. My girl, she’s loyal to the death, and in that case, she remained loyal to her brothers. She’ll never get those answers, not now and maybe not ever, and I think that’s something weighing hard on her. Not only that, but she is struggling with wanting to run to the mother she has very few memories of and despite the fact that the new knowledge she has of her brings forth hate and anger.
She’s confused. She’s hurt. She’s afraid.