Reclaiming Brave: The Kane Brothers Book Three

by Gina Azzi

  I'm totally screwed.

  "Hey, where’s your head at?” Denver reaches over, his fingers closing around my wrist.

  “Are you really moving here?” I blurt out.

  “Yeah. I told you, I'm in. All in. And I don't want to leave you tomorrow to fly back to Georgia.” His voice breaks through the fog creeping in my mind, surprising me.

  My head snaps up, so I can find his eyes, searching them for the truth. But it's there. Shining like diamonds in a pile of coal is an unrivaled sincerity. "You don't?"

  “Of course not. I told Dr. Leona –”

  “I thought you were having second thoughts.”

  Denver’s eyes darken further, something I thought was impossible. “About the baby? Or you? Or us?”

  “All of it.” I admit, smiling at the server as she drops off our coffees. I pick up a creamer and rub it between my fingers just to have something to do with my hands.

  “This is my fault.” He shakes his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. He scrubs a hand down his face, exasperated. "I should have been more open with you. We should have talked about everything. I don’t know, meeting the doctor just made everything…real, you know?”

  I nod. Hell yeah I know. And I’m freaking out.

  “I want to have our baby with you, Sierra. But more than that, I want this.” He gestures between us. “I want to be with you, really be with you, and be a family. I want to come home to you after working all day and cook you dinner. I don't want to miss any of the baby’s appointments or the prenatal class or whatever it is pregnant couples do. I’m all in. And not just because we’re having a baby but because I’m, Jesus, it sounds so cliché but I don’t know how else to explain it, I’m falling in love with you Sierra. And I’m already so in love with our little peanut.”

  "You’re falling in love with me?" I whisper, my heart pounding in my chest, a reassurance and excitement building in my bloodstream.

  Denver nods. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been falling for you for a long time, just resisting it.”

  My mouth drops open in shock and Denver chuckles, his fingertips tapping my inner wrist. Wait, is he nervous? “I want that too. All of it. Everything you said.” I blurt out, suddenly incapable of explaining myself.

  Denver grins and forces out a long exhale. “You were making me nervous. I’ve never, Jesus, I’ve never said that to a woman before.”

  “Good.” I take a sip of my coffee, not even caring when it burns the roof of my mouth. “I’ve been hoping you’d say it to me since the first time I met you.”

  Now it’s Denver’s turn to stare at me in surprise, at a loss for words. “Seriously? Even though I was so “nasty” as you put it?”

  I nod, wiping a napkin across my mouth. “Seriously. I used to love hearing Daisy talk about you and hate it at the same time, always wondering when she was going to tell me that you met someone.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes swirling with so many thoughts and emotions I can’t pull one out. “Well I guess we have our little peanut to thank for bringing us together.” He says finally and I smile. I couldn’t agree more.

  Our server drops off our sandwiches and Denver takes a gigantic bite of his Rueben, the coleslaw falling from his sandwich into the dish below. He chews thoughtfully and pops a French fry into his mouth.

  "We need to figure out the logistics of my move. I'm sure I could find a job up here. I mean, I definitely could at an auto body shop. Maybe rent something in Queens or Brooklyn for the time being," he ponders out loud.

  “Or you could just move in with me.”

  He looks up sharply, muttering a curse word under his breath. I giggle, slapping my hand over my mouth as his eyes darken and the small muscle under his eye twitches.

  “I take it that’s a no?” I ask, wondering if it’s the money thing. “It doesn’t have to be permanent. Just a temporary solution until we sort out a place here. I’m really focusing on the marketing aspect of my painting but in the meantime, I could get a job at a coffee house or something. And you’ll need a few weeks to settle in and start a new job. At least this way, we’re together.”

  He sighs, chewing another fry thoughtfully. “I get what you’re saying but it doesn’t feel right. Moving into a penthouse I could never afford and not being able to really take care of my girl, our baby,” he shakes his head, “it seems like I’m taking advantage of your stepdad’s generosity toward you. But he doesn’t even know about us. Or that you’re pregnant.” Den raises his eyebrow at me.

  I take another sip of my coffee, over his words. “I understand what you’re saying. And I respect you for it, honestly. But we have to be smart about this. If our priority is to be together –”

  “It is.”

  “Then we need to put that first. How about I talk to my mom and James and tell them everything and we take it from there? If James is cool with it, then you can move in with me for a few weeks until we can relocate to Brooklyn or Queens. By then I’ll have another job sorted.”

  “I can take care of you.” His tone is sharp, severe.

  “I know you can but so can I. It’s just, we’ll both be working crazy hours just to cover basic necessities if we stay in Manhattan. A few weeks at James’s will at least give us a bit of a cushion for a security deposit and a move. I have some money saved from summer jobs and random paintings that I’ve sold but we will burn through it if we aren’t careful. To be honest, Mom and James supported me all through college. This summer is the first time I’ve even really thought about finances. And this is an expensive city.”

  “Do you want to come to Georgia?”

  I scrunch up my nose at the thought. I could move in with Denver and being close to Daisy would be amazing. But Ashby County is a long cry from New York. How would I make connections in the art world? Do I shelve my painting for now? “That’s an option. There’s also the job offer in Scotland."

  "You're still considering that?"

  I sigh, my eyes closing. If I take the job in Edinburgh, I’d also be shelving my painting. And taking a job I really don’t want to do in a field I’m not super interested in. But how do I explain to Denver, without hurting him, that without knowing if we're going to be able to make this work together, I have to be smart and make the best decisions for the baby?

  "Not really. I mean, I don't want to move to Edinburgh, despite the obvious that I’d love to be closer to my family, I’d be giving up on my painting. And I’d also be taking a break from painting if I moved to Georgia. But all of my old reasons for staying in New York don’t have that much merit when compared to having a baby. I just want to make sure we’re being sensible about this. My brother told me a few weeks ago that I need to grow up and he’s right. I can’t exactly ask my mom and James to pay for my life and our baby’s.”

  "I know that. You're supposed to ask me."

  Cue the crickets. Awkward silence. Face palm. Yada, yada.

  "But I don’t want you to feel that you’re shouldering all of this on your own. That’s how my mom felt and look at what happened with her relationship with my dad. You keep telling me we’re in this together and we are, so you have to count on me as being your partner in everything. Including the financial side.”

  Denver sighs heavily and I can tell he sees the merit in my explanation but doesn’t like it. “I don’t want you to give up your painting. If you think the best place to pursue your art is New York, then we make that work. Period.”

  “I just don’t want to be one of those pipe dreamers who is so committed to my art, my dream, that I sacrifice all the other things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you. Our family. Doing this the right way.”

  “There’s no right way to do this other than together. And we’re doing that. I’ll go back to Georgia tomorrow, talk to my siblings. You talk to your mom and James. And in a week, we’ll be back together. Sign us up for one of those baby classes. Or prenatal yoga. Or whatever you want to do. We’re doing it all together.
”

  “Okay.” I smile, picking a fry off his place and popping it into my mouth, relieved that we’re finally figuring out some of the logistics for our future. “But can I tell Daisy?”

  His gaze softens and he reaches across the table to cup my cheek. “Of course, you should tell her, babe.”

  I smile, leaning into his touch just as the server passes with another tray of food. I inhale something that smells like bacon…a BLT? The moment the name of the sandwich registers in my mind, a bubble of nausea pops in my stomach. Oh God, I’m going to be sick again.

  I stand quickly from the table, my eyes frantically searching out a sign for the bathroom. Placing the back of my hand over my mouth, I beeline for the restrooms, closing and locking the door before dropping to my knees in front of the toilet. When I finish cleaning up and rinsing out my mouth, I pull open the bathroom door and collide with Denver.

  His hands grip my shoulders as he peers down at me, studying my face. “You okay, baby?”

  I nod, his kindness and thoughtfulness unraveling me until tears well in my eyes. I drop my head, blinking furiously.

  “What is it? Do you still feel sick? Is something wrong?” He works to gentle his tone but the way he holds onto my shoulders clues me in that I’m scaring him.

  I shake my head, trying to regulate my breathing so I can talk without sounding like a train wreck. “I feel better. I’m just so, I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to cry but I don’t know why. I feel overwhelmed. Like, I’m so happy that you’re going to move here.” I nearly wail, burying my face in his shoulder.

  I feel the soft rumble of the chuckle he doesn’t let out as his arms wrap around me and hold me close. “You’re all right, baby. We’re going to be all right and figure everything out. We’re together, yeah?”

  I nod. We’re definitely together.

  14

  Denver

  Leaving Sierra is hard. I hate kissing her forehead and breathing in her scent one last time even though I’ll be back in New York in a week. I just need to go home, tell my siblings what’s happening, let Dean at Benny’s know what’s up, and figure out a few things financially. But even a week seems too long; what if she needs me?

  I stare at her sleeping form, listening to the sweet whistle that sounds with each of her inhales. I bend to pick up and fold the discarded clothing that I tugged off of her body last night. Mere hours ago, she was warm and naked in my arms and now I have to say good-bye.

  It’s bittersweet and I lean forward to kiss her shoulder one last time before I leave the apartment. I fixed her breakfast and wrote her a note earlier this morning but didn’t have the heart to wake her. Not when I kept her awake for so many hours last night.

  The ride to the airport is lonely, my thoughts still tangled up with Sierra. Heaviness hangs around my shoulders, and it's not the panic of impending fatherhood; it's the panic of being away from her. It’s the overwhelming thought that I have no idea how to financially make my move to New York work but God, do I want to. I will, I know I will. I just wish I had it figured out yesterday so I didn’t have to leave this morning.

  My head throbs with different ideas and plans from the moment I enter the airport in New York until the wheels touch down in Georgia. By the time I'm waiting out front of Savannah's airport for Carter to pick me up, I've figured out a few things.

  1. I need to find a job in New York.

  2. I need to find an apartment to rent.

  3. I need to tell my brothers and sister the truth.

  I know the second I tell them, I’ll feel better about confiding in them. I’m excited to gage their reactions about becoming uncles and an aunt. Sierra is going to call Daisy to fill her in. It’s easier knowing that she and I are doing all of this together. But Jesus, a part of me is nervous to tell them about Sierra and me. About our peanut. Especially when things are so financially tight for all of us. I know my siblings; they'll do anything they can to help out. And it just seems unfair, as the oldest, to place a burden on them when I should already have a nest egg hidden away somewhere. I should be able to solve my problems on my own, not look to my little brothers and baby sister for help.

  "Yo!" Carter pulls up beside me and taps his horn lightly.

  I look up startled, so lost in my own thoughts that it takes me a minute to process why he's here, and why he's staring at me.

  "Hey, how’s it going?" I ask after a minute, opening the back door to his SUV and tossing in my duffle bag.

  "Not bad. You? All good?" he asks, his eyebrows lifting over the top of his sunglasses. He peers at me as I snap in my seatbelt in the passenger seat.

  "Yep."

  Carter pulls away from the curb, tapping out a beat on the steering wheel. The silence between us is thick, and I know it's because he's waiting for me to speak. I'm waiting for him to ask, neither one of us wants to make the first move.

  "How's Taylor?" I ask instead, referencing Carter's girlfriend whom he recently moved in with.

  The smile stretching across his face is genuine and appears at just the mention of his girl. "She's doing great, man. Getting more modeling gigs now that her limp is gone."

  "That's good."

  He nods, taking a left on a side street.

  The silence resumes.

  "How was New York?" he starts.

  "Okay."

  "I didn't know you had a lot of friends there."

  I shrug, turning to look out the window at the passing shrubbery.

  "In fact, the only person I can think of who you know there is Sierra."

  My head whips around and my eyes narrow, daring him to ask the question I know is on the tip of his tongue. I really want to tell Carter everything but I want to make sure Sierra has enough time to talk to Daisy first.

  He chuckles, the sound easy and unaffected, as if we're discussing the weather. "I know y'all hooked up. Daisy told me back when it happened. Are you dating her or something?"

  "Definitely more than something,” I admit, looking away again.

  Carter sighs and our silence resumes.

  But as we near our house, I realize he's not going to let me off the hook so easily. The moment Carter makes a right when he should make a left it hits me that he's taking me to Raf's to feed me beers until I speak. I snort, the sound low and irritated, but Carter keeps driving without paying any attention to me.

  Once we're parked at Raf's, he turns to me and tilts his head to the bar and grill. "I'm starving. Hope you don't mind that we're stopping for a quick bite."

  I nod, knowing it's complete bullshit, but appreciating his concern anyway.

  We enter Raf's, and several people holler out greetings.

  "Hey y'all. Grab a seat anywhere. Mindy'll be right over," Lenny, the bartender calls out.

  "Thanks, man." Carter lifts his hand in a half-wave and walks over to a corner booth, never bothering to turn around to make sure I'm following him. He knows I am.

  I slide into the booth across from Carter, amused by how intent he is on learning the truth from me.

  A small grin lifts the corner of his mouth, and he leans back in the booth, scanning Raf's.

  "Hi guys. What can I get for you?" Mindy appears at our table a few moments later, a pen poised above a small notepad.

  "Hey Mindy. How're you doing? How's your grandmother?" Carter asks warmly, his interest genuine.

  I lift my hand in a casual wave to Mindy.

  "Good, thanks. She has her good days and bad, but she'll be happy to know y'all popped in today."

  "Tell her we say hello."

  "Of course," Mindy pauses, expectantly.

  "I'll take a burger and fries," I order the same thing I do every single time I come in here.

  "I'll have the same, please, Mindy. And we'll also take two Heinekens and a couple of, hmm, let's do Glenlivet. Neat."

  I can't contain my eye roll at the mention of the whiskey that Sierra drinks.

  "You got it." Mindy smiles, completely unaware of the slight strai
n between Carter and me. Or really, just the tension I'm giving off because Carter is as unaffected as ever.

  "Thanks." Carter smiles at her cheerfully as she walks over to Lenny to give him our drink orders.

  "Glenlivet? Since when do you drink that?"

  "Since I learned you have a preference for it," my brother replies easily.

  I sigh, chuckling under my breath, and lean back in the booth.

  I'm grateful as hell when Mindy drops off our drinks, and I take a long pull on the beer, prepared to tell Carter everything. I’ll just make him swear not to tell Daisy. A tingle of nerves travels up my spine as I try to guess Carter’s reaction. I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous. I guess it’s my own shame of not having my life in the place I want it to be for Sierra and our peanut. But Carter will understand that. In fact, he’ll probably tell me it’s normal to want things to be more stable when bringing a baby into the world.

  I grasp the glass of whisky and stare into the depths of the dark liquid, nearly the same shade as Sierra's eyes, and am hit with a pang of longing so sharp I wonder how I’m going to last an entire week away from my girl. My nerves dissipate and I know that Carter’s going to be happy for me. Especially when he realizes he’s going to be an uncle. And when he understands that I’m happy, really freaking happy, about everything except the part where I left Sierra sleeping in New York this morning and won’t see her for a week.

  “What gives, man?” Carter holds up his glass of whisky to me and I clink mine against his.

  “You gotta swear not to tell Daisy.”

  My brother’s face drops as he studies me. “I don’t want to keep hiding things from her, Den. She’s an adult now and –”

  “Just for a day or two. You’ll understand why once I explain everything.”

  Carter sighs and nods his agreement. “You in any trouble?”