Kade

“Oh my God.” Quinn tugs at my arm when she finally gets me alone. “I knew it.”

“What?” I ask, grinning, knowing exactly what she’s referring to.

“You and Sophie?”  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I tease, glancing across the room where Sophie is talking to Damon and Abbott.  

Quinn laughs and temples her fingers in front of her lips, her eyes misting over like she’s going to cry. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Don’t start planning the wedding yet.” I say, growing more serious, because I know how my sister can get. She’ll have me walking down the aisle before summer if I give her free rein.

Not that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.

I want forever with her. And I think she wants it, too. But fear still lingers, and I know she’s holding on to secrets.

“But you like her?”

“We’re taking it slow. But, yeah, I like her...a lot.”

Quinn keeps smiling at me, all misty eyed.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I mutter, taking a sip of my beer.  

“Sorry. It’s these damn baby hormones. I can’t stop crying. But these are happy tears. You deserve something good.”

“So does Sophie,” I say, which only causes Quinn to smile wider.

“Careful, big brother, or I’m going to think you’re in love.”

“In love?” Zee says, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist and drawing her to his side. “Really?”

I grunt, but both her and Zee keep grinning stupidly at me.

“Daddy,” Lola comes running up to us. “I want to take Sophie back to see the treehouse, but Uncle Abs said no.”

“It’s too muddy out there,” Abbott says gruffly, following behind her and giving me a tight look. At least tonight, his face and knuckles don’t show any signs of fighting, and other than a couple beers at dinner, he seems sober enough.

“It is still pretty messy out there,” Zee agrees. “How about you show her the music room instead?” He looks at me and winks. “I heard Sophie’s a really good singer.”

“She is,” Lola says. “And she plays the guitar.”

“Really?” Zee grins down at her. “I bet she’d like to know that your daddy can play, too.”

“Zee,” I warn.

“You can?” Lola asks, blinking up at me.

“Can what?” Sophie says as she approaches.

“Daddy can play the guitar, just like you.”

Sophie raises her brows at me. “Really?”

“I haven’t played in a long time. Not since...” I glance at Zee and see him wince and rub his neck, guilt tugging at his features. Not my story to tell. Instead, I say, “I’m pretty rusty.”

“It’s been a long time since we jammed together.” There’s an unspoken apology in Zee’s eyes, then he grins crookedly. “But we can change that now.”

I groan, but it doesn’t take much convincing to get most of the family downstairs in Zee’s soundproof studio.

With Zee, myself and Sophie on guitar, Damon on drums, and Lola on the tambourine, we have a full band. And after a few ear-shattering chords and a couple off key notes, we don’t sound all that bad.

Zee gives me a look of appreciation when Sophie starts singing, mouthing, “Wow.”

Pride swells inside me, and a bunch of other emotions that are too damn close to the big L-word Quinn mentioned mixed with it.

“She’s good,” Zee says once we’re done.

“I know.” I smile at Sophie, who’s crouched down, listening to something Lola is saying.

“What are her plans?” Zee shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Her plans?”

“With her music.”

“I’m not sure,” I mutter, putting the guitar back on its stand.

I hadn’t thought much about her career plans. But Zee’s right. With the talent she has, she could go far. Zee has the contacts to get her hooked up with an agent.

Sophie smiles over at me when she catches me watching her, but I just nod, causing her to frown, a flash of insecurity flickering in her eyes before she turns back to Lola.  

Shit. I rub the back of my neck.

“You okay?” Zee asks.

“Yeah,” I lie, knowing it’s just another way I could lose her. “It’s late. We should be going.”

Knowing me too well, Zee says, “She’s not Ana.”

“I know that,” I growl out, glaring at him.

But I still might not be enough to keep her here.

Lola protests like I expect when I tell her we have to go, but she quickly bends to Sophie’s will. They have a unique connection, like Sophie somehow understands the wildness that runs through my daughter’s veins. Rather than trying to suppress it, she’s found a way to rein it in and focus it on positive outlets.

She’d be a good mom. As soon as I think it, my stomach turns. She is a mom. That title would never be taken from her.

And while there are still parts of her heart that I know she holds back from me, she gives herself freely to Lola.

I’ve set us all up for heartbreak, my insecurities scream.

“She’s good with her,” my mom whispers in my ear when we’re at the door saying our goodbyes. “And I think she’s really good for you.”

I kiss her cheek, knowing she’s right, but those damn demons rear their ugly heads, spouting self-doubt and uncertainties. I push them away.

Sophie’s different.

Zee was right. She’s not Ana.

She isn’t in love with another man.

And she can be happy here.

With me.

Are you sure about that? That dark voice at the base of my skull asks the question loudly.

“Is everything okay?” Sophie questions once we’re in the car and Lola has her headphones on, listening to a show on her iPad.

“Yeah.” I take her hand and brush my lips over her knuckles. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I did.” Her lips twist up. “I liked hearing you on guitar. How come you don’t play anymore?”

“It was more Zee’s thing. When he left, there was no point continuing. I never had half the talent he did, anyway.”

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re pretty good.”

“And you’re a terrible liar.”

She chuckles. “Well, if you ever want to join me onstage, I’d love to play with you sometime.”

“You know my mind went all places dirty with that comment.”

She swats my arm, glancing back at Lola, who’s completely obvious to our conversation.

 “Zee was pretty impressed with you.” I want to bite my tongue on what I’m about to say, but she deserves to hear it. Deserves the choice. “You know who he is, the people he knows. If you’re wanting him to set you up with an agent, or an interview with—”

“That’s not what I want,” she says quickly.

Silence screams between us.

“You’re sure?”

She gives me a small sigh. “Music is something I do for me. I enjoy playing onstage, but I enjoy being alone with my guitar just as much.”

“You have a real talent, Sophie. If you want to go to New York and—”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” It’s meant to be a tease, but I can hear the uncertainty in the question.

“God, no. I just...I don’t ever want to be in the way of your dreams.”

She smiles faintly. “Until a few months ago, I hadn’t even let myself feel. Those types of dreams aren’t even on my radar.”

“Maybe they should be.”

What the hell are you doing, dickhead?

Pushing her away, because she’s too damn close, and I’m in way over my head. But her leaving doesn’t just scare me. It terrifies me. More than admitting I’m falling head over heels for her.

She frowns. “Now I’m starting to think you really are trying to get rid of me.”

“I just want you to know what you want. I’d hate for you to find out a few years down the road that you settled for some shitty waitressing job in the middle of nowhere, when you could have been opening for Taylor Swift or Wild Irish.”

“Pretty sure Wild Irish isn’t touring anymore,” she says lightly.

I grunt. “Not the point.”

“And I’m not settling. A few weeks ago, I was living out of my car. I owe you a huge debt—”

Ouch.

“Don’t stay because you think you owe me,” I say harshly.

“I’m not.” She glances back at Lola, then whispers, “What’s wrong? I feel like you’re upset with me.”

I keep my focus on the road and drag a hand through my hair.

She’s done nothing wrong, but old wounds can open at the strangest time. And for some reason, mine are oozing all over the damn car tonight.

We drive in silence. When I park the car in front of the steps to her apartment, there’s all sorts of tension between us.

Because of me.

“Kade, I like it here,” she says softly. “And I want to stay.”

“But for how long?” It’s a shitty response, especially when Lola is in the car, even if she has her headphones on. But I need certainty. I need promises. I need...her.

“I don’t know.” At least it’s an honest answer. But it does little to ease the war inside of me.

“I’ve got to get Lola to bed. We can talk more tomorrow.”

“Okay.” All my own doubts are reflected in her eyes.

Damn it.

This is what I was worried about. The caring thing. The emotions that get twisted and distorted.

She gives a small wave to Lola before getting out of the car and walking up the steps.

I watch her until she’s inside her apartment, the door closed behind her.

“I wish Sophie could live with us,” Lola says when I start to drive away.

Fuck. My throat constricts.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because then we could have princess and movie nights every night. And she could sleep in my room.”

I grin, and say without thinking, “I’m pretty sure she’d be sleeping in my room if she came to stay.”

She goes quiet, and when I glance in the rearview mirror I can tell she’s thinking.

Finally, she says, “Like mommies and daddies do?”

My heart squeezes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. How the hell am I supposed to respond?

“Can we ask her if she wants to be my mommy?”

God, the kid is breaking me tonight.

“It’s not that simple, sweetheart.”

She doesn’t say anything else, but when I glance back in the mirror I see my little girl’s face pinched in consternation. And that damn voice from earlier is back, making me question every decision I’ve made in the past few weeks. By the time I get home and tuck Lola into bed, I’ve got a migraine from the tug-of-war my heart and mind are doing inside me.