CHAPTER 5
Gentry
Hearing her cry into my shirt almost made me say fuck it and do what I told myself I wouldn’t.
Almost.
But I couldn’t do that to her. Couldn’t do that to us.
She didn’t need that on her plate right now.
And I would feel awful if I pushed her away before I even got her close.
So I did the next best thing.
I comforted her.
And, to my surprise, she let me.
Feeling her against me felt amazing. Holding her in my arms after four years felt like she’d never left.
But she had. And I needed to remember that. Needed to remain focused so I could get her back. She would question my intentions, but I couldn't care less.
Hearing her laugh behind me while we raced toward the kitchen made my heart swell. I hadn’t heard that sound since long before she left. She’d lost the will to show any emotion. Now that I’d heard it, I’d do anything to keep hearing it.
I came to a sudden halt when I rounded the corner into the kitchen, causing her to run into the back of me. A loud thud sounded behind me, and I knew before I’d even turned around that she’d hit the floor.
I tried. I really did. But I couldn’t help myself.
I let out a laugh of my own at the fact that she’d just landed on her ass.
“It’s not funny. When did you get so solid?”
I turned around, trying to hold the laughter in, and help her off the floor.
She swatted my hand away and used the doorjamb to pull herself up.
“I’ve always been this solid, or don’t you remember, sweetheart?” I whispered, and she let out a frustrated sound.
“What’s the matter, Ainsleigh? Did you forget how to walk while you were away?” her brother, Brooks, joked from the massive table that was next to the kitchen.
“Why do I put up with all of you?” she said as she stomped over to the table and took her seat.
“Because you love us,” Leo taunted from his seat beside Holden.
The three of them were laughing under their breaths when I finally walked over and decided to play with fire by sitting beside her.
As soon as I sat down and scooted my chair forward her elbow met my ribcage in retaliation. I tried to not react, but damn, she had some power behind that blow.
She looked in my direction with a scowl on her face. A look that I knew meant business.
“Now, now, children. Play nice with each other,” her mother replied as she brought over the roasting pan with what I knew held the most delicious pot roast I’d had to date.
“Since when do we not play nice, Mom?” Holden asked as he reached for the fork to get some of the pot roast.
Their mother, Lillian, who’d came to be a woman I looked up to as a mother over the years, smacked the fork out of his hand and told him that his sister deserved to get the first serving. I was happy to see that nothing had changed between the siblings with four years spent apart.
Ainsleigh stuck her tongue out at him and made sure she grabbed a bigger portion than I was sure she could eat. She took a bite and moaned. A sound that went straight to areas it shouldn’t have, and I made myself tune them out before I got in even more trouble.
Playful banter continued between Holden, Brooks, Leo, and Ainsleigh as they talked about what she’d missed while she was gone. They were quick not to mention me, and I was grateful. That was my story to tell. One I’d hope to tell her in private.
“I thought your friends were joining you today?” Sawyer, her dad, asked from the head of the table.
She wiped her mouth with a napkin before she looked over to him and replied.
“They were going to, but they had some stuff to wrap up before they came. They’ll be here in two days.”
Friends. What friends would those be? Her parents hadn’t mentioned their arrival.
“It’s Dylan and Aspen, right?” her mother asked.
“Yeah. They’re great. I’m sure you’ll all love them.”
Dylan? Who the hell was he, and what did he mean to my Ainsleigh?
That’s right. She was still mine. Even if she didn’t know it.
“We can’t wait to meet them,” Leo said. I’m sure he was only referring to Aspen, but I wouldn’t rat him out.
“I’m sure you can’t, player,” Ainsleigh said with a wink.
She knew her brother so well.
He grabbed at his chest like she’d broken his heart, but everyone knew of the infamous Leo Courtright and his playboy ways. His parents included. They never missed a beat. Including the love I still shared for their daughter. A love they still encouraged for me to seek.
“That was delicious as usual, Lil,” Sawyer spoke as he rubbed his now full stomach.
“Yeah, Mom, it was great,” all the siblings spoke in unison, something I was sure they’d rehearsed over the years, since it always happened with every meal.
Ainsleigh stood and started clearing the dishes. Her mother tried to stop her, but she shushed her and continued her task at hand.
“You just got home, honey. I’ll do the dishes.”
“No, you won’t. You cooked. I’ll clean it all up.”
“Fine, I won’t argue with you,” her mom said reluctantly.
“We’ve got plans. We’ll see you bright and early, old man,” Brooks said as he stood from the table. The other two brothers followed suit, each kissing their mother on the cheek before they left the room.
“You want to go into the den and cuddle on the couch with a movie?” Sawyer asked his wife as he stood.
“You don’t have to ask me twice. I get to pick the movie though,” she replied with a smirk.
Seeing the love they both shared after all these years was refreshing and hopeful. Especially since not much love was expressed in the home I grew up in.
“Of course, you do, sweetheart,” he readily agreed with her as he walked over to the sink where Ainsleigh waited for the water to fill.
“Be ready to go at four thirty in the morning. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow,” he said as he kissed the top of her head.
“Dad, seriously,” she groaned.
“Seriously. You’ve got someone who’d love nothing more than to see you.”
“Sparkle,” she said as she began to smile.
Her eyes always did brighten up at the mention of her beloved horse.
“I think she missed you more than us,” her dad said before he left the kitchen.
Walking over to where she stood with one foot placed on the side of her leg, I leaned my hip against the counter and watched as she placed each dish carefully into the steaming hot water.
“Want some help?”
“You want to wash dishes?”
Not exactly. But I’d do anything that gave me a reason to remain in her presence even a moment longer.
“Sure. Why not?” I replied as I grabbed the dish towel hanging from the front of the stove.
She washed and I rinsed, dried, and put them away.
No words were spoken.
This seemed normal.
Domesticated.
Only it wasn’t either of those things.
It was painful.
Heartbreaking.
The unspoken words so relevant between us I was sure you could slice the tension with a knife.
But neither of us addressed it.
We just continued our tasks at hand.
And when we were finished, she went her way and I went mine.