* * *
Forty-five minutes later,Logan strolls through the door of the Lone Star, pausing briefly to flirt with one of the waitresses, before sliding into our booth. Cody is asleep in my arms, his ice cream melted into a puddle in his bowl, and Mila clings to my other side, stressed out from watching her parents argue.
“Hey, little darlins,” Logan drawls.
I’m too tired to do more than lift my hand.
I don’t ask why he’s here and Ethan’s not, but something about that pisses me off more than being in the middle of everything. But damn it, it hurts to hear Mila cry over her parents and how she’s worried they’re mad at her. Just thinking about it makes my eyes sting and my belly burn with frustration.
I want to protect these kids, but they’re not mine to protect. I want to protect Ethan, but sometimes he doesn’t feel like he’s mine either. Like on that porch earlier this evening, I had zero control about anything.
And really, who am I to have any say here? I’m the nanny. Not their mom.
Logan taps a finger on his cell. “Heard you guys had a rough time at the ranch. I’m supposed to bring you home as soon as I get a text.”
The meaning is clear. When Allison is gone, we can return.
She’s still there?Jealousy tears through me at the thought of her being alone with Ethan.
Get used to it, genius. You did suggest they remain a team for the sake of the ranch. Plus, it was her house first.
Fuck me sideways, this sucks.
My emotions must be clear as day because Logan gives me a sympathetic smile. I hate that look. I know it well. It’s the one all my friends gave me when they found out I’d been unknowingly dating a married man. “This will all work out. I know my brother.”
I nod, fear making me wonder,Work out for whom?
His phone vibrates, and he smiles as if this is proof of our impending happiness.
But I have a bad feeling about this. All of this.
Logan scoops up Cody, and I help him get the kids situated in his truck before I follow them back to the ranch.
The familiar sounds of baseball make me smile when we walk through the front door, but my sprig of optimism is quickly dashed.
Ethan is sound asleep on the couch. In front of him is an open bottle of wine and two glasses.
Ethan drinks beer.
I look at Logan, but he just shrugs and helps me carry the kids to bed. He does me a favor and doesn’t try to bullshit me and try to make me feel better, and I don’t bother to pretend I’m in a good mood.
When the kids are asleep, I go to my room and close my door, hoping to have some perspective in the morning. Because right now, I don’t have a good perspective. Not at all.
Ethan
Ahard kick to my leg jars me awake.
“What the fuck?” I snarl at my brother, who’s hovering over me with an eat-shit-and-die expression.
My heart races from the shock to my system, and I realize I’ve been dozing in the living room. The game is over, and it’s dark outside. Shit.
“How long have I been out?” My throat feels like a dusty Texas road after a heat wave. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I try to shake myself out of this lethargy.
“Long enough.”
“Where are the kids?”
“In bed asleep.”
