5. Lake

LAKE

Bronson drivingme home was a seriously bad idea.

Although I'd declined the drink Alley offered me earlier when we went in the house and I could technically drive, Stormi needed me. She was doing okay, but she was tired and wanted me to hold her. So, after the party wound down and Bronson had made the offer, I accepted.

My daughter and I were cuddled up in the back seat together as he drove. But I knew it wouldn't always be that way. One day, when she got older she might not allow me to hold her close, hug, kiss, and fawn over her the way I did. So, I was going to take what I could get, for as long as I could get it.

As we neared my house, Bronson grew somber and tension radiated off of him. I knew he said it wasn't an inconvenience to take us home, but I hadn't thought about how he would feel going back there after so many years...

After his father's death.

I also hadn't taken the time to think about what it would feel like with the two of us together again at the lake. The place we had not only grown up, but where we had grown closer.

But it all ended in a flash the night he'd kiss me.

Kissed me goodbye.

Blowing out a breath, I looked down and realized Stormi had fallen asleep against my side. I'd get her inside quickly and let Bronson be on his way, was my thought. We'd put the whole evening behind us and go about our lives.

There you go lying to yourself again.

Now that Bronson had infiltrated mine and Stormi's world, I wasn't sure going back to the way things were would be quite so simple.

He pulled up to the front of the house, turned off the ignition and sat there staring out the window in silence for a moment.

Bronson's sigh echoed through the interior of his big, matte, green Hummer SUV. It fit him—even if I did wonder how he afforded it— after his military days and the badass presence he put off. Other times, like when playing with the kids or talking to the ladies he turned into a teddy bear. While I'd always known him to be protective when we were growing up, there was a new edge about the man that had just come back into my life.

"It's been a long time," he mumbled.

"I'm sorry, I knew this was a bad idea but hadn't really thought about all the reasons why until we got closer." My belly clenched. "Stormi and I can just jump out and you can be on your way," I rushed to say.

He had his door open and was getting out. "Don't be silly. I'll help you."

Before I knew it, he was opening the door and motioning for me to get out. "I'll get her," he whispered.

I carefully moved toward the opening, gently resting Stormi's head down on the seat as I went. Bronson reached in, carefully lifting my daughter and cradled her in his strong arms. She stirred slightly, then snuggled closer, burrowing her head against his broad chest, and settling once again.

My stomach flip-flopped at the sight.

We made our way into the house after I unlocked the door and Bronson paused at the threshold, his gaze sweeping around the place.

His eyes widened as he turned to me. "Wow, you've done a lot with the place. It looks amazing." He glanced around again. "Don't get me wrong, Ed and Ruth kept this place in tip top shape, but the more modern updates you've made are remarkable."

A pang of sadness hit me as it always did when I thought of my parents being gone. It took months to even consider changing a thing after they both had passed. It felt wrong. Losing them at eighteen and being on my own, as well as pregnant, was challenging. Especially when I was fighting through the sorrow.

I had nobody but myself.

"I fucked up, Cupcake." His gaze flashed down to Stormi in his arms as if realizing what he'd just said. When he saw she was fast asleep and hadn't heard him, he looked back at me and his eyes bored into mine.

I gasped at the nickname. Then I felt my cheeks heat. The name was so silly. He used to tease me when we got a bit older that I'd always been sweet on him—he was fully aware of my crush—and sweet to him, so I needed an appropriate nickname.

But I wasn't expecting to hear it ever again.

And that crush turned into so much more.

He went on. "I may have not known about the baby, but regardless, I should have been here for you when they passed away." Bronson looked down at his feet and then back to me. "When my dad died I just couldn't bring myself to come back to the lake."

The regret and sadness in his voice had me reaching out to touch his upper arm. His muscles flexed under my palm and his breath hitched. A tingle rippled up my arm and I yanked it back.

Out of sorts from the jolt touching him caused, I stammered. "I-I'm s-sorry about your dad."

His father was a big presence in my life and when he died, I was beside myself with grief. Everyone important to me was leaving one way or another.

Bronson stared at me for a second. "Thank you. Where should I lay Stormi?"

Clearly the subject of his father was over before it truly started and realizing he'd been holding my daughter the whole time, I wanted to smack myself for making things awkward.

"Follow me," I said, heading through the house toward my daughter's room.

He laid Stormi down on top of her fluffy, purple comforter and then brushed a chunk of hair from her face in the sweetest gesture. My girl's eyes fluttered open.

"Don't leave," she told him sleepily.

"It's late, sweetheart. You need to go back to sleep."

"Will you come back?" Stormi asked him.

Bronson looked at me for the answer. That was a hard question.

"Please," my daughter whispered.

That did it. I couldn't deny her anything. I nodded.

He turned back to Stormi. "I'll be back to take your mom to get her car tomorrow for work, so I'll see you then."

Her smile was radiant. "Okay." Then she turned over and curled back up to go to sleep.

I'd have to go back and change her clothes, but first I needed to see Bronson out. I backed out of the room, flipping off the light I had turned on as we walked in and he followed me out. Once at the front door, we stood there in silence.

"Thanks for bringing me home," I said, ringing my hands together tightly, not knowing what to say.

"Lake…"

My name just hung in the air for a few seconds. Then Bronson let out a deep sigh.

"What time do you need to leave tomorrow so you have time to go back to Ruby's for your car and to make it to work?"

I was sure that wasn't what he was thinking or going to say when he said my name, but we were back to the logistics and nothing personal.

It was probably for the best.

"I work from six pm to six am. So I guess if you could grab me around four-thirty tomorrow just to be safe that would be great."

"Give me your number," he said, pulling his cell from his pocket. "If anything changes you can call me. I'll text you so you have mine."

Seconds after rattling off my number, I heard my phone chime with an incoming text from inside my purse where I'd dropped in on the entryway table by the door.

"Thanks," I replied softly.

"Who stays with Stormi at night?" he inquired, then held up a hand, stopping me. "Sorry, that isn't my business, I shouldn't have asked."

Standing there for so long with Bronson, talking about my life, had my stomach in knots. I'd longed for him to come back and be part of our lives, but too many years had gone by. He'd meant everything, talking to him should have been easy.

But it felt like my heart was playing an epic game of tug-of-war.

On one end, I wanted to yank him into my arms and hug him like I used to. Then tell him everything I felt and all that had happened while he was gone. On the other end, I wanted to lose the crazy feelings, remind myself how much he hurt me, and send him flying right out the door.

"It's okay. There's a couple that lives on the lake with their daughter, who goes to college close by. Stormi loves her and she nannies for me at night to earn money. She's been amazing."

I smiled. My daughter really did adore Gretchen. "It's hard to leave her, but nights pay better and it allows me three days off with her. Plus I get to take her and pick her up from school when it's not summer." I smiled. "I love this time of year. More time with my girl."

After my word vomit, it was obvious which side won that round of tug-of-war.

Old feelings: one. Hurt feelings: zero.

Then I remembered something that was bothering me.

"Hey, where did you go just now?" Bronson looked at me, concerned. "One minute you were smiling and the next you were frowning."

I looked up at the ceiling and then back at him. "It's probably nothing, but I said I would let you guys help. I just wasn't going to get into it tonight. But now that we are talking about the nighttime routine, I worry if it's for the best after the weird thing that happened."

He nodded. "I think you're right to worry. Don't discount your instincts. Let's get something set up with the guys and see what we can do."

"Okay, you're right," I told him.

Bronson grabbed my hand and a tingle raced up my arm. "In the meantime, I'm here for you."

I shook my head. As wonderful as that sounded, I couldn't get hurt again. If I let him in and he walked away again…

"Lake, I meant what I said when I told you that I fucked up." He blew out a breath. "We were best friends and I walked away from you. It's just that friendship wasn't all I was feeling and you deserved to enjoy the rest of high school. It wasn't right for me to ask you to wait around for me."

My mouth dropped open in shock. Then anger quickly replaced it.

"I can't do this." I yanked my hand from his grasp and furiously pulled the door open with the other, almost ripping it off the hinges. "You have to go. Please, you have to go now."

Uncontrollable tears started pouring down my cheeks and I needed them to stop. I cried enough when he left. I cried when his father died. And I cried when my parents passed away. Then there were the times I cried for my daughter when she shed tears because kids were mean to her at school.

I should be damn well cried out, but the tears wouldn't stop. They rolled down my cheeks faster than a runaway train.

"Please," I pleaded. "I needed you and you shouldn't have made those decisions for me. But I can't talk about this. Just go."

I had turned away because I couldn't look at him when I begged him to leave, but when he spoke again, I made the mistake of peering into his handsome face.

A face filled with tears that mirrored mine.

And it crushed me.

Then his expression changed. It was fierce and his jaw was set stubbornly. "I understand, but this isn't over, Cupcake. It can't be. I have to fix it and I will." He started out the door and then turned around. "I'll see you at four-thirty. Lock the door and call me if you need to."

Then he disappeared to his vehicle but didn't leave until he saw me shut the door.

When I was safely locked inside, I sank to my butt, resting my back against the wood. Then I let the rest of the tears flow. I needed to get them all out and then take care of my daughter.

I glanced down at my hands, still tingling from his touch, and blew out a pain-filled breath. The effect he had on me after all these years was insane.

Bronson's words came back to me. The boy that I had fallen in love with had felt something for me other than friendship too.

But he didn't believe in me enough to tell me back then. Bronson didn't believe in us.

Sure, we were so young, but we had deserved a chance. I had at least deserved the truth. And a choice.

He wanted to fix things. I didn't know if they were fixable, but a piece of me wished they could be.

There I was in another tug-of-war battle. But at the last moment the other side had won.

Old feelings: one. Hurt feelings: one.

The question was, which did I want to win?

My old feelings for Bronson that still simmered or the hurt feelings so I could protect the maimed heart he'd ripped open and broken before?

Whatever happened, it wouldn't be just me I had to think about.

It would always be what was best for Stormi first.