In Name Only (A Pine Falls Novel Book 2)

by Jennifer Peel

  “You know we’re teasing you, Whitney.” Sebastian fluttered his eyes unabashedly.

  “Yeah,” Max added, “though the truth is, those fossils were placed here by aliens.” He erupted in a roar of laughter.

  Whitney stomped her feet. Thankfully, I was holding the chair steady. “That is a lie propagated by conspiracy theorists,” she fumed.

  I knew this was the right table for me.

  “Boys, quit teasing your niece,” Sabine berated her sons from the other table.

  The look they shared with each other said they were just beginning.

  Grandpa stood at the head of the main table. He may have been up there in age, but his spirit was as strong as ever. He held himself proud and straight, yet he wore a look of peace and contentment. Family was everything to him. He caught my eye, and in his soft expression I was reminded of the first time I’d met him. I don’t think he had been sure what to do with me. He’d known some of the things I’d faced, especially at the hands of men. And he’d known that I didn’t trust him, at first. He’d never forced a relationship with him, yet little by little he had shown me how a real man treats women—he was a partner to Grandma, never the ruler. He’d also done little things, like making sure there were always fresh strawberries, my favorite fruit, to eat in the fridge. He’d taught me how to drive, how to change a tire and the oil. He’d never raised his voice or a hand. I loved his quiet ways. It was probably why I fell in love with Brock. Brock was quiet and not overly emotive. Feelings were hard for him to talk about, but he was trying, just like Grandpa had when I was younger. Just like I think Grandpa was now, with his silent nod toward me. He was saying he saw me, and he loved me. I had no doubt.

  Grandpa cleared his throat. “Welcome. Happy Thanksgiving. We have a lot to be thankful for this year.”

  I looked around at everyone, and he was right. I should focus on all the good this year had brought. It had even brought the man I loved back from the dead. Only for me to kill him, metaphorically, but he had survived. And so far, as a couple, we had. That had to count for something.

  “New family, new friends—”

  A knock on the door interrupted Grandpa.

  Grandma popped up like she was sitting in a spring-loaded chair and smiled at me. “Would you mind answering the door, Dani?”

  That’s what I got for sitting closest to the door at the kids’ table. Without delay, I stood, curious as to who would be out and about on this cold, snowy Thanksgiving. It was probably Grandma and Grandpa’s tenants who lived down the road in our old house. Maybe they needed to borrow eggs or something.

  Oddly, it seemed that every eye was on me. I guess we were all curious.

  I reached the solid pine door in no time and opened it. I barely comprehended who was standing on the porch, his hair dusted with snow, before I found myself in the arms I’d been longing for all day.

  Brock swept in and engulfed me, wrapping me up and snuggling me against his navy wool coat. Brant followed and closed the door behind them.

  I had no words. I was consumed with Brock’s sandalwood scent and the way I felt at home in his arms.

  Brock kissed my head. “Happy Thanksgiving, Dani.”

  I pulled away enough to look up into his beautiful face which, for the first time in a long time, looked settled, even happy. “How? Why?” I couldn’t put together full sentences.

  He grinned before brushing my lips with his. “I couldn’t imagine not being with you today.”

  Now I was tearing up.

  “I sprang him,” Brant spoke up.

  My head whipped toward him, just as surprised to see him. I thought he was spending the holiday in hell with the Copelands. His twit fiancée had been bragging all over the news about how they always do Thanksgiving up at some ridiculously high-priced inn located in Virginia. If Brant was staying in the race, she was going to be a liability—she was so out of touch. I wanted to hug Brant, too, but didn’t know how Brock would feel about it. But he looked like he could use a good hug. While Brock looked refreshed, Brant looked worn and forlorn. Without another thought, I grabbed Brant’s coat and pulled him toward us for a group hug. My men didn’t hesitate and sandwiched me between them. The Three Musketeers were together again. I felt whole.

  “Okay now,” Grandma called. “Now that all the family is here, let’s eat.”

  I looked between Brock and Brant. They were my family. I knew then that I would do whatever I could to keep it that way, even if it meant forgiving myself and working my way back to trusting my husband.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, you two.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Brock sat extra close to me at the kids’ table. Brant sat across from us. Grandpa had the two chairs just waiting for them in kitchen. Apparently, all the other adults in the room had known about our surprise visitors. It was a tight fit, but I think Brant appreciated not having to sit next to Kinsley and Tristan. There had already been furtive looks between them. Thankfully, the joy of their arrival overshadowed any awkwardness. Still, I had so many questions. Like what about Jill? Where were John and Sheridan? And what was John keeping from all of us? For now, though, I enjoyed the way Brock held my hand and kept stealing kisses. Wow, had the treatment center done him good. His eyes were bright. No demons lingered in them. Which wasn’t to say he had vanquished them forever—I knew how PTSD worked and that there wasn’t a cure, per se—but it was clear he was learning to cope. It was good to see some peace back in his eyes.

  Ariana stood with her ukulele, ready to regale us with her annual blessing song. I could already tell she was going to get choked up by it. This past year had been a big one for her in so many good ways.

  “No laughing.” She eyed her brothers at our table.

  “No promises,” they shouted back in unison.

  Dean and Sabine shook their heads at their incorrigible sons.

  Ariana ignored them and strummed a couple of chords. “It’s that time of year again, where we gather to be thankful. This year we have been much blessed. To start we have grown. Seeds of love we have sown. Welcome my husband, Jonah, and my daughter, Whitney,” her voice broke. “Your love has filled me. To Dean and Sabine, you have been a dream. Sebastian and Max, I’m only spouting the facts. You are the best brothers, but sometimes I want to smother ya.”

  Max and Sebastian laughed loudly, holding their midsections.

  Ariana looked in our direction. “There is one more husband we have added to the crew. Brock, it’s about time you finally had some sense and got off the fence. I know this year has been intense, but are we ever glad for your presence. May you and your wife live a long, happy life.”

  Brock wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into him, feeling safe and warm. A long, happy life together sounded good. Easier said than done, I knew, but I was feeling hopeful.

  Ariana continued on. “And how could we forget the Brit who lights up our Kinsley’s world.”

  I sneaked a peek at Brant, who kept his head down. Poor guy. But it was better this way. Kinsley didn’t deserve the wrath of the Copelands.

  “We are so glad you both decided to give it a whirl.”

  Tristan kissed Kinsley, making her blush. It was adorable.

  “Then there is Brant, who is making all the political heads twirl. We know you won’t leave it to fate. Come next November, it will be checkmate.”

  Brant tugged on his collar and looked at Brock and me as if begging for some relief. If only we could give him some. If only I could have warned Ariana about Brant’s plans. Though I wasn’t even sure of all of them. Still, I knew by the anguish in his eyes that his dreams were all but gone. I hoped my own eyes conveyed how much I appreciated his sacrifice and how much I wished I could make it all better.

  Ariana moved on. “To the best mates a girl could ask for, Dani and Kins,” she choked out. “There was only us before the hims. I know this year has been a rough one, but together we will always be the tough ones. I will always love you tons.”
She turned to our grandparents. “No blessing song would be complete without Sam and Kaye, without whom there would be no bright days. Grandma and Grandpa, thank you for giving us your all. Now let us eat before I stall.” Ariana strung her last chord and bowed.

  We all clapped for her. Her brothers gave her a standing ovation. Whitney ran to her best friend and mommy, as she called her, and threw her arms around her. Ariana placed the sweet girl on her lap, and there she stayed. It was all Ariana ever wanted—to love and be loved. It was all that all of us had ever wanted.

  Brock must have noticed my longing gaze and the way I held my empty womb. He whispered in my ear, “Someday our daughter will sit on your lap.”

  My misty eyes met his. There was so much hope in those words I could scarcely believe them. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  “I don’t think I’ve been going fast enough,” he responded without a second a thought.

  “Brock,” I whispered.

  He kissed my lips and lingered there for a few brief seconds, willing me to feel how much he loved me. Making me realize that with every kiss we had ever shared, he’d been trying to tell me what his lips were saying now.

  “Please—” Brock began to say intimately as if we were alone.

  “Not to be rude,” Max interrupted Brock, “but we get enough PDA around our sister and Jonah.”

  Brant and Sebastian chuckled as we broke apart and faced our unimpressed audience. I bit my lip while Brock took my hand and kissed it. “Give a guy a break. I’ve been away from my wife for weeks.”

  I noticed now how Brock called me his wife whenever he could. It still sounded strange to me. Not to say I didn’t like it—I just needed to get used to it.

  Sebastian waved his hand. “Eh, regrettable, but we can’t be swayed.”

  “Survey says—get a room,” Max added, making Brant and Sebastian laugh.

  “Great idea.” Brock gave me a smoldering smile, making my cheeks burn red.

  I pushed on his rock-hard chest. He had obviously been able to work out at the treatment center. “I think we should eat some pie,” I stuttered. I wasn’t ready for that step yet.

  Brock recognized my obvious discomfort and rested his hand on my blazing hot cheek. “We’ll eat as much pie as you want.”

  I translated that into, “Take all the time you need.” I nodded, grateful, before reaching for a slice of the pumpkin cheesecake Ariana had brought.

  The conversation shifted to more awkward topics. Max and Sebastian were in awe of Brant. Which wasn’t a bad thing at all, except it meant poor Brant had to put on more than a fake politician smile. He had to mask the pain of giving up his life’s work.

  “Dude, we tell everyone at school that we know you.” Sebastian talked with his mouth full of apple pie.

  “We want to campaign for you, even though we don’t live in Colorado.” Max was eagerly dishing up a second piece of chocolate cream pie after inhaling the last piece in two bites.

  Brant swallowed down his bite of pie and faced his admirers with grace. “That means the world to me. What I would love to know is, What issues concern you and your friends most?”

  I wanted to reach across the table and hold Brant’s hand. Instead, I watched in awe at how he spoke to Max and Sebastian as if they were his equals; how he listened to them, not to respond, but to internalize what they saw as problems in society. Their fears about the future. Well, not them so much as their peers who didn’t come from a wealthy background. I was amazed at how thoughtful Ariana’s younger brothers could be. Brant’s thoughtfulness didn’t surprise me at all. Nor did his courage.

  Dessert and dinner were done before I knew it. Normally, I loved to linger at the dinner table after such a wonderful meal and chat with those I loved most; today I found all I wanted to do was be alone with Brock. I had so many questions. Yet I also longed to be held by him and not say a word. Unfortunately, I had to employ patience. We always cleaned up together as a family, and then we played Ariana’s game of car hide-and-go-seek. Brock was definitely going to be my partner. Hopefully we wouldn’t be the seekers first and we could find the perfect hiding spot where no one would find us.

  Brant pushed back from the table. “I hate to eat and run, but I have some things to attend to.” He gave Brock a meaningful look.

  I would have to ask Brock what things meant later.

  “Dani, can you make sure Brock gets home safely?” he teased me.

  “I can probably manage that; I’ll order an Uber for him,” I playfully responded.

  Brock didn’t think it was all that funny and pulled me onto his lap. “Uber?” He nuzzled my neck.

  “We’re out of here.” Sebastian popped up.

  “I would rather do the dishes than watch this.” Max followed him.

  I giggled and shivered while Brock’s stubbled cheeks assaulted my neck in the very best way. “Fine, I’ll take you home.”

  Brant gave us a sad smile before covertly catching a glance of Kinsley and Tristan clearing the “adult” table together. I wanted to tell him that he would find someone who would make him ridiculously happy one day, but he didn’t give me the chance.

  “I’ll see you later.” He walked off without another word and headed straight for Grandma to give her a hug and say thank you before he left. I noticed how Kinsley quickly glanced Brant’s way as he walked out the door. I could see in her eyes the goodbye. She was letting go. That was good.

  “I feel bad,” I said for Brock’s ears only.

  “Don’t. I’ll fill you in when we’re alone.”

  Alone. I needed time with my husband.

  Brock must have had the same idea as me—the quicker we cleaned up, the quicker we could leave. He used his army training to start an assembly line for the dishes and assigned Max and Sebastian trash duty. My sisters smiled at me like they thought he was a man on a mission that ended in the bedroom. If only they knew how messed up our relationship had been. How we had never shared such intimacies. It was something I could never share with them, even though I could really use some advice. How did I make love to my husband? Okay, I didn’t need to know the mechanics. I needed to know how to let go. How to trust him and myself. I’d been asking myself this for weeks, thinking I had a couple of weeks before he got home. Before I had to make any real decisions regarding sex. I still wasn’t sure where my head was at.

  As anxious as I was to be alone with Brock, I found I was nervous when we walked out to the car. Brock held my hand and his pace quickened. The snow was gently falling around us like glitter against the night sky. I stopped when we made it to the passenger side to look up and let the cold specks prick my face. I needed a moment before I stepped into the car, knowing that real life began for Brock and me as soon as I was in and the door closed behind me.

  Brock tipped his head back to see what I was looking at. When he couldn’t see anything, he asked, “Did you not want to be my partner?”

  I reached up, and my fingers brushed his stubbled cheeks, red from the cold. “I do, I’m just wondering how to be your partner.” I wasn’t talking about hide-and-go-seek.

  He grabbed my hand and kissed my fingers. “We’re going to figure it out together.”

  “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Brock drove us to my old high school and parked the car between two of the campus buildings in hopes we wouldn’t be found. We texted our two clues to where we might be hiding to the group chat and waited.

  I held my phone with the still-cracked screen between my hands and stared out the snow-covered window.

  Brock brushed my hair back off my shoulder. “I missed you.”

  I turned toward him and met his eyes. They no longer raged and stormed; instead they looked like a calm, clear blue ocean. “I missed you too.”

  He leaned more toward me, taking my face in his hands, drawing us closer. I could smell the pumpkin pie on his breath, making me hungry for dessert. Not pie—something much sweeter.
His thumb slid across my lower lip. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you while I was gone.”

  “I hope I wasn’t a distraction in your healing journey.”

  “Not at all. You made the journey worth it.” He inched forward and pressed a soft kiss to my brow, then my nose. Each cheek was next. Every touch of his lips sent a current of electricity through me and warmed me more than the car heater ever could. By the time he kissed the corner of my mouth, my lips were hungry for his to crash into mine.

  “Dani,” he groaned.

  “Yes?” I breathed out.

  “I love you.”

  His lips collided with mine. He was eager to taste me and urged my mouth to part. I was just as desperate, and soon our tongues were tangled in a wild rhythm all their own. Our hands were equally impatient and took liberties running through each other’s hair. Brock ran his hands up my sleeves, seeking to touch more of me, gripping my shoulders while pushing himself over the console to remove the distance between us. My hands grasped his shirt and urged him closer, so much so that he pressed me against the passenger door.

  Minute upon minute we were consumed with each other. The windows began to fog up and, for a moment, I forgot why I had any reservations. Then my brain kicked in instead of my hormones. I rested my hands on his cheeks and purposely slowed the kiss. “Brock,” I whispered against his swollen lips. “I need—”

  His teeth gently tugged on my lower lip, and I lost my train of thought.

  “I need you,” he moaned.

  “I need you too,” I stuttered out to the beat of my pounding heart. “But I also need time,” I managed to get out between my heavy breaths.

  He barely leaned away, as out of breath as me. He gently swiped my bangs. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this every time we’ve played this stupid game of your sister’s. Every year, though, I told myself I wasn’t ready, I still had mountains to conquer, and it would ruin our friendship. I was a fool. I wasted time. I don’t want to do that anymore.” He sighed deeply, and I could sense him reining in his ardor. “But if you need time, it’s the least I can offer you. I know I have no right to expect anything from you.”