“I was a child.”
She laughed. “And now you’re not?”
He looked at her, not amused, his eyes far more grown-up than she’d ever seen them. “I’m twenty-seven. I might’ve taken the long, slow route to Adultville, but even I had to grow up sometime.”
True, but the last time Piper had seen him had been eight months ago when she’d had to bail him out of a DUI.
Clearly reading her mind, he grimaced. “The really long, slow route.”
She sighed. “None of us knows what we’re doing. We’re all just stumbling through.”
“Huh.” He gave her a half smile. “That’s actually almost comforting.”
“Good. So are you going to tell me why you’re really here?”
He let out a breath and met her gaze straight on, which was terrifying, because he only did that when there was bad news. “Maybe I just needed you.”
She laughed. “You barely even like me.”
“We’re family,” he said simply.
This was true. Gavin and Winnie were all she had in the entire world. And past her gruff exterior, past all those years of being the bad guy while attempting to mold them into decent people, she loved them both madly. “Tell me, Gav.”
“I took some time off. I . . . needed to be home.”
“But you’re okay?” she pressed, worried, always worried.
“I’m okay. But you should probably know, whatever the opposite of having your shit together is? I’m also that.”
Her heart started pounding. There’d been many, many years where she’d truly doubted she could get him to adulthood alive. If there was trouble to be found, he found it, and shockingly easily too. But she’d thought after he’d gone to IT trade school and gotten a solid job, that he was in the home stretch. “Are you in trouble?”
“Not at the moment.”
Okay, that was something, then. She let out a relieved breath. Maybe he and Winnie really were back for just a visit. “How long are you staying?”
“Couple of weeks.”
Couple of weeks was no big deal. And it wasn’t as if they were coming back to stay. She could do anything for two weeks. She was pretty sure anyway.
CAM SHUT THE front door of Piper’s house and stood on the covered porch a moment, surveying the crazy destruction of the storm. It was still raining, though very lightly now, while at the same time a good part of the sky had cleared. Branches, leaves, and debris littered the wild grass acreage between the house and the lake, as well as the distance to the marina and his father’s place.
He’d been to a lot of places in a whole bunch of countries, but even with the mess, this view was one of the most breathtaking he’d ever seen. From where he stood at the top of the slope looking down at the water, he could see miles and miles of green rolling hills dotted with sprawling oaks, and a very weak sun trying to rise above them all, leaving the land cast in a golden glow tipped with orange flames. The sky was awash in mingled shades from the entire family of blues, light to dark, and tumultuous gray.
After the night before, it all seemed . . . quiet. Just the sounds of the light rain hitting the already oversaturated ground and a couple of squirrels having a tiff in the trees.
Not all that unlike the one in the house behind him.
He’d watched the reunion between siblings with great curiosity. He’d been surprised at the dynamic between Piper and Winnie. They hadn’t greeted each other like siblings. More like irritated parent and wayward child. There was clearly a lot of resentment built up there, both in the way they spoke to each other and in body language.
Same with Piper and Gavin.
Having not grown up in the same house as his brother, it felt oddly familiar. Cam was thirty-two now, and Rowan had been twenty when he died. That twelve-year age gap had seemed huge for most of their lives, putting an almost-parental spin on their relationship.
So, though Piper didn’t know it, he felt connected to her on a core level.
In between the two houses, the so-called creek was still flowing like a wild river. He turned to head up to the street, taking his chances by going around to the back of the houses—and came face-to-face with Winnie.
“Hey,” she said, looking over her shoulder as if to make sure no one was watching.
“Hey,” he said back. “Want to tell me why no one seems to know you’re pregnant with my brother’s baby?”
“Oh my God, shhh!” She looked over her shoulder again, then grabbed his hand and yanked him down the steps and into the light drizzle. She pulled him around the corner to the side yard, where they stood beneath the overhang protecting the air-conditioning unit.
She wasn’t showing at all, which made sense. She’d gotten pregnant three months ago, just before Rowan’s death. “You left the funeral without saying good-bye. I’m taking it that was on purpose,” Cam said.
Winnie closed her eyes and then opened them again, revealing a grief that Cam understood all too well. “I appreciate you telling your dad to let me know about the funeral. I also appreciate you sending me the money for the flight and hotel costs to get there.”
“What money?”
She gave him a get real look, gentled by a small smile. “I know it was you, Cam.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Rowan would’ve wanted you there.”
Her eyes went a little shiny as she nodded and looked away.
He gave her a moment, mostly because seeing her grief triggered his ever-present pain as well. “He wanted me to take care of you,” he finally said, putting his mission out in the open. He’d promised Rowan, and Cam never broke a promise. At least not anymore. In the past, he’d let down his mom. He’d let down his brother. And now they were both gone, and he could never make it up to them.
And hell, he’d also let his dad down, by not even knowing the guy was sick. That was especially hard to take, because he didn’t think he’d survive failing someone else he cared about.
But Winnie was shaking her head. “Thank you, but I don’t want to be anyone’s burden. This”—she pressed her hands to her still-flat belly—“the Bean . . . it’s on me.”
“You’re not a burden.” He waited until she looked at him, this woman who was still mostly a girl, but had been encumbered with a responsibility that he was pretty sure she didn’t yet fully understand. “And I want to do this. You’re carrying my future niece or nephew.”
She stared up at him. “So . . . you don’t think I’m a screw-up? Just a girl who was stupid enough to get herself pregnant?”
“Is that why you’re not telling Piper? You think she’ll call you a screw-up?”
“Yes, because I am.”
“Winnie . . .” He searched for words to put meaning behind the emotion clogging his throat. “I lost time with my brother,” he finally said. “I don’t want to make the same mistake here. As far as I’m concerned, you and your baby are family.”
She seemed surprised but also relieved. “What will happen when you go back to work?”
“We’ll stay in contact,” he said. “I’ll still be there for you and the baby, however I’m needed.”