“Did you need something?” Braden turned at the sound of Wes’s lonely voice. “If you haven’t noticed, everyone’s gone.”
Braden smiled at him. “Everyone except me.”
He didn’t get the return grin he’d hoped for. “Which is my point.” Wes crossed his arms.
Damn. This definitely wasn’t going to be easy. He figured since they’d gotten along okay while helping Noah when Cooper got hurt, Wes would have gotten over whatever his aversion to Braden was. Obviously not. Braden shrugged. “Thought maybe you’d need some help. Cleaning up or whatever. I’m sure you don’t want to deal with that shit right now.”
Wes didn’t budge. “Lydia and I can take care of it.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t want to do it, either. It’s not a big deal. I—”
“Why?” Wes interrupted him.
Braden took a few steps toward him. Flirtatious words on the tip of his tongue...To be alone with you. Because you’re sexy as hell. He fought to find that filter everyone told him he didn’t have and answered, “Because my mama raised me to be nice and help people when they need it.” Which was true.
Wes’s body stiffened so hard, he rivaled marble. “I don’t need your pity. If
that’s—”
“Pity? What are you talking about, man? I can tell you, pity is the last thing I feel when I look at you. If you want, I can prove it to you.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he was screwed. Where the fuck had his filter gone?
Braden sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to hit on you. I just...”
“Uncle Wes! Uncle Wes!” a little girl’s voice called, getting closer and closer.
“If you couldn’t tell, I’m dealing with shit a whole lot more important than your cock. You can show yourself out.” He turned away.
“Wes,” Braden called out, but Wes kept going, through the kitchen and toward the back door.
Braden dropped his head back. “Damn it.” He’d really fucked that up.
***
Wes paused at the door, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. The last thing he needed to do today was let something Braden said get under his skin. He got Braden. From the first night they met, he had the guy’s number. He’d never had a hard day in his life. Funny, gorgeous, everyone liked him; the kind of man who commanded attention.
He was used to getting what he wanted, and the night they spent together, Wes wanted the same thing Braden did: Sex. Release. And for Wes, a night to forget that Chelle was dying, and that she wanted him to raise Jessie. That once again he was losing someone he loved.
He’d fucked up by leaving before Braden woke up, though. That made him a challenge for Braden, it made him interesting, when Wes didn’t want to be interesting to anyone. He had more important things to deal with and didn’t have time for playing games.
And he definitely didn’t want pity.
“Uncle Wes. Hurry!” Jessie called, her voice all four-year-old happiness. Did she understand the fact that she’d lost her mother forever? She was young, and soon the memories would fade. They always did. She would forget Chelle’s smile, her laugh. She wouldn’t know what it felt like to have Chelle’s unwavering support. She wouldn’t have her mom to talk to. She would have...Wes.
What had Chelle been thinking by leaving her to him? The single, gay guy who left his job behind to come here, who sucked at opening up to anyone, and had a habit of losing everyone who meant something to him?
Shaking his head, he hoped to leave those thoughts for another time. Wes bound down the stairs for Jessie before the little girl came for him. And she would. She and her mom had had that in common.
Lydia, her husband Stan, and their two sons, Brent and Bruce, sat around the picnic table. Next to it was a swing set so different than the one Wes hung from a tree at home. Chelle had been able to lie on her bed and watch Jessie fly on that homemade swing, though. Now Wes would be watching her on it.
“Push me, Uncle Wes!” Jessie called.
“What? None of you could do it?” Wes winked at his family, hoping they didn’t see his nerves setting him on edge. “Make me come outside when you’re all sitting here.”
“She wanted you. When Jessie wants something...”
Jessie cut Lydia off with another, “Uncle Wes!”
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Fall leaves crunched under Wes’s feet as he walked over to the swing and gave Jessie a push. Lydia had tied Jessie’s hair back for her today, but the curls were already springing from the band as she flew through the air. How would he do her hair every day? He didn’t even know how.
