“Ah, shucks. Are you worried about me, Super Nanny?” he playfully brushes off my comment. “It’s not so bad. Especially when I get to play with some of my former teammates, Bennett and Jackson Wilson. It’s been really good for me because they’re going through the same thing. Honestly, it’s even worse for Bennett—he’s been somewhat of a hockey prodigy from a young age. He was drafted first overall straight out of high school. The attention surrounding him would be far more suffocating. It’s probably why he has such a tough exterior.” Carson chuckles to himself. “I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime. Benny is a great guy, but he can come off as a standoffish dick from time to time.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got them.”
“And Griff too now. We might not be on the same team, but I’m hoping with him discovering Mack had Cadence that he will be around again more often.”
At the mention of her name, Cadence perks up and tugs on Carson’s hair again as if they’re the reins to steer him away from this conversation and back to trick-or-treating. I look over my shoulder to find Kenna and Griffin both staring at us with a few feet of distance between them. Kenna’s body language is guarded, and Griffin looks unsure of himself, like he wants to close the distance between them but isn’t sure if he should.
I turn back to Carson and point my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to walk with your sister for a bit. Why don’t you and Griffin bring Cadence to the next house?”
“Sounds good. Oh, and Austin, thanks for being such a good friend to Mack.” I’m about to respond when he cuts me off, lifting one of his hands from Cadence’s feet. “I know, I know. It’s part of your job. But that doesn’t mean I can’t thank you for being so good to my girls.”
I close my mouth and bite the inside of my cheek. He doesn’t have to thank me, because Kenna’s friendship has quickly become something I cherish.
And when he said his girls . . . I couldn’t help but wonder—what would it be like to be his?
5
December
Ipromised my mama I’d be home for Christmas this year, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my twenty-eight years thus far, it’s to not break promises to your mama. I’m thankful that it’s unseasonably cold this winter so no one questions why I’ll be wearing sweaters for the duration of my stay.
I’m not sure why I was so shocked when Aaron got upset again and left more marks on my wrists and arms. But when I showed up fifteen minutes late to meet him at a dinner party after McKenna’s practice ran long, he was irate when we got home. He pinned me against the wall, squeezing my arms with such force that even after a week, my skin is still riddled with deep purple marks. There was also the hole in the wall that he made when he punched the drywall beside my head. He said I had to patch it myself because he wouldn’t allow someone else to come clean up the mess “I’d made.”
Taking a deep breath, trying to clear the thoughts from my head, I send up a prayer of thanks that Aaron wasn’t able to come with me to Texas. He said he was working on a case that wouldn't allow him to be out of the office for five days.
Snapping me out of my thought spiral with his deep baritone, Brody says, “Come on, Kota. Don’t pitch a hissy fit over this. There’s no use; you’ll never win this battle. I’m your older brother, and I have every right to be concerned about your happiness, safety, and well-being.”
“Brody Meyer, I know you’re not fixin’ for a fight with your baby sister on Christmas Eve,” Mama scolds.
Yep. It only took one look from my big brother to know something was off about me. And without a moment of hesitation, he knew Aaron must be the cause of whatever was going on.
“It’s no secret I’ve never liked Aaron, Mama. The first time I met him, do you remember what I told you?”
She shakes her head at him and gives him a look of warning, but Brody completely disregards her. “I said that man looks like a sheep-killing dog. And the girl you raised was no sheep.” Brody looks me in my teary eyes. “Don’t let that sonofabitch turn you into a sheep, Kota Lynn.”
“I won’t.”
“You swear it?”
“I swear it, Bubs.” With that, I get up and excuse myself. After placing my dessert plate in the dishwasher, I head up to my childhood bedroom to grab my book off the nightstand. I need to bury my head in a reality that isn’t mine.
Just as I grab my tattered copy ofLittle Women, my phone lights up with a text notification. I tense, thinking it might be Aaron, but relax when I see Carson’s name. Well, the name I put him under in my contacts. It’s both a nickname and a cover in case Aaron were to see my phone.
Mr. Wilder:
Merry Christmas Eve, Dakota!
Me:
Dakota? Who stole your phone? So formal . . . you must want something from me.
Lol, it’s just me. But I wouldn’t hate it if you said hi to my idol for me.
Knew it!
Can you blame me for shooting my shot, Super Nanny?
Ah, there he is. You couldn’t even go two minutes without a nickname.
