The Other Brother (Binghamton #4)

The connection they share doesn’t escape me. Neither does hearing my father’s deep voice once again. Feeling weak, I lean against the wall, hand to mouth, throat constricted as tears of joy fall continuously down my cheeks.

For what seems like forever, Aaron and my dad embrace. Aaron’s eyes squeeze shut and his grip tightens on my father as I lovingly watch them. And I know one thing. I love both of them. It isn’t until my dad pats Aaron on the back and says, “Do I smell pizza?” that Aaron releases his grip and laughs.

Wiping his face, he says, “I brought Nirchi’s.”

My dad points his finger at Aaron and says, “I hope you got pepperoni. You know I don’t eat that Buffalo crap that my Bedelia eats.”

“I got half and half, just for you.”

“Good man.” My dad pats Aaron on the shoulder and turns to me. He smiles and pulls me into his chest where he kisses me lightly on the head. “When did you get here?”

“With Aaron,” I choke out, shocked that somehow a switch has flipped on, and a lucid man has emerged. He’s more coherent than I’ve seen in a very long time. How long will it last? For now, I’m not going to worry about that, because even if it’s only for a few minutes, I have a piece of my dad back.

“It’s about time you brought that fella around. I thought he would never show.” Turning to Aaron, he asks, “Been working extra hours at the sanitation plant? Trying to save some money so you can finally ask my daughter to marry you?”

My heart catches in my chest. My dad’s perspective is from three years ago. I cringe wondering how Aaron is going to handle this.

But when he speaks, I shouldn’t have worried at all. “Yes, sir. I’ve been saving a lot lately. Don’t you worry, I’m going to marry your daughter one day and protect her for the rest of her life.”

“That’s my boy.” My dad smiles and grabs the pizza box, eyeing the bakery box. “Are those half-moon cookies?”

“Can’t have pizza without them.”

“Hot diggidy dog, we hit the jackpot today, Bedelia.” He licks his lips like a fool and adds, “Let’s dig in. I’m starving.”

My dad opens the pizza box and starts claiming pieces as Aaron walks over to me and bends down to speak into my ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life. Thank you for bringing me here, Amelia.”

I can’t help it. I stand on my toes and kiss him on the corner of his mouth. His face goes soft, his eyes hazy. “Thank you for being here, for bringing my dad back to me. This means everything to me.”

“You mean everything to me,” he replies, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

I wouldn’t expect anything less.

***

I shut my car door and shimmy out of the small garage in time to see Aaron pull into the conjoined driveway. My stomach flutters at the mere sight of him. It would be easy to think over the course of one week, I’ve done a complete one-eighty. I was in a safe, reliable relationship with a man I loved dearly. And now . . . I desperately yearn for Aaron. I’m in love with my ex. Again. It seems like a flip of a switch. But if I am completely honest, I knew it was feasible to open my heart again to Aaron after the night of the storm. His protective nature, his ability to pull back and not disrespect the relationship I had with Trey, and his insanely talented ability to have fun in what could have stayed a very awkward night proved his love for me. Had my heart known then, I wouldn’t have hesitated to go to the city at Thanksgiving. Had my heart not been pulled to Aaron, I would have driven to Amanda’s rather than back to Binghamton. Had my heart not been consumed by Aaron Walters, I would now feel pain and anguish instead of joy and peace. It’s not as if I simply fell out of love with Trey. That was a slower process, one I wasn’t completely aware of. It’s like my heart expanded to its full width as I accepted Aaron back into my life.

It’s almost like we picked up where we left off. I hate to admit it, but he brings out the best in me, a part of me no one else has ever been able to extract. And then today with my dad . . . it was difficult to avoid making a scene in front of him, as I thought I would fall to the ground in a puddle of emotion.

Aaron, the man I thought I’d marry one day, swooped into my dad’s room and made him smile again. They talked about Aaron moving to construction. Aaron didn’t say he owned a company, that would be too much to comprehend, but they joked about trying to get me a job where Aaron works, given my birdhouse constructing abilities.

It was . . . perfect.

Aaron hops out of his truck, his shirt untucked now and his hair a slight mess, as if he was running his hand through it all the way home.

“Hey,” I say shyly as I walk to him.

He closes his door and locks up his truck only to lean against it, his gaze fixed on me. “Hey beautiful.”

Getting closer, I stare at his blue eyes, so loving, so soulful, and yet there is still pain in them. He grips my hips and exhales. “God, I missed your dad.”

“I missed him too. Thank you for bringing him back to me.”

Aaron shakes his head, his lips turning up. “It wasn’t me. He must have smelled the Nirchi’s. That pizza has super powers.”

I laugh and bury my head against his chest. “That’s it; it was the pizza.”

I move my hands and wrap them around his waist and then up his back. I pull him into a hug, and he reciprocates the embrace; I love how his warmth surrounds me. Tilting my head back, I kiss his jaw and he visibly tenses, so I do it again and again, standing on my toes trying to reach him. When I reach up farther and press my lips on the corner of his mouth, he exhales and gently puts distance between us.

“You should get inside, it’s getting cold.”

Frustrated with him, I shake my head. “I don’t want to go inside.” I kiss him on the chin and he growls this time.

“Amelia, say goodnight.”

“I don’t want to.” I grab the back of his neck and pull him closer to me, despite his resistance. This time, I kiss the other side of his mouth. I love his mouth. I always loved kissing Aaron. He grabs my hips, but more to pry me away, not pull me in closer.

“Amelia,” he warns again. “Say goodnight.”

“No.”

“Yes, this isn’t the time—”

“Shut up, Aaron.” I pull him closer to me and place my lips on his. At first he goes stiff in my arms—perhaps out of disbelief that I’m actually kissing him—but once my tongue moves across his lips, he parts his mouth and melts into our connection, his body softening, his restraint no longer in check.

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