By the time he got to the deck, Lizzy already had Hannah talking, which was good. It seemed he’d forgotten how to talk to a woman. For a guy so seemingly charming, he never had to use much charm. Or any. There were plenty of women who were happy enough to do all the talking. Hannah wasn’t one of them. But that was one benefit of a big family. Always someone to pick up the conversational slack.
He sat with his arm around the back of Hannah’s chair and listened to her, much more at ease talking to his sister than to him. Matt’s oldest daughter, Annie, cuddled quietly in his lap while he and Luke sat in deep discussion about the latest toys Uncle Sam had to offer. Lizzy, a child psychologist, continued to pick Hannah’s brain about the benefits of animal therapy, specifically horseback riding. It was interesting, but more than anything, he liked listening to the sound of her voice.
The whole scene was very domestic. And very not him.
This was the first time he’d been around his family with a woman since…no. He blocked the name and the pain that came with it. Not so sharp he couldn’t breathe, but that was only because his heart no longer worked.
“You brought me a present?” Gracie asked, surprise and delight shining in her eyes.
He hadn’t noticed his niece join them. He’d seen a pile of gifts inside from family members he assumed were to be opened later. But Abby, being the perfect hostess, must have called Gracie out to open Hannah’s gift while she was here.
“Well, it is your birthday, right?” Hannah smiled sweetly down at his niece.
Gracie reached into the bag filled with silver shreddings and pulled out a stuffed pony covered in a patchwork of rainbow-bright fabrics, silky and glittering.
“I love horses!” Gracie threw her arms around Hannah’s neck. “I love them more than anything in the whole world.”
Hannah returned the hug. “Well, maybe your mom and dad can bring you out to see my horse.”
“Mommy, she said I can go see her horse! Can I? Will you take me? Daddy, will you take me to see Hannah’s horse?”
Not waiting for answers, Gracie turned back all smiles and happiness. “I’m coming to see your horse, Hannah. Maybe I’ll even ride him with you.”
Hannah glanced up at Abby with a soft expression. “She really is welcome. Just call me.”
“Thank you. She’d love that.”
With all eyes on her, Hannah seemed to retreat a bit. She wet her lips, fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “Of course all of the kids are welcome. Anyone really.”
There was a yell from inside, and his brother’s wife, Sarah, stood with their newborn in her arms.
“I’ll take her,” Abby said.
The baby was passed to Abby but just barely, before Charlie came out screaming about how he’d been wronged, something about his spot.
Abby turned. “Hannah, could you hold Lily for me?”
Hannah’s arms were full of baby before she had time to answer. She adjusted in her seat, arranged the blanket, and reverently touched a finger to the baby’s downy head. After a few minutes of reverent staring, she looked at Stephen with a smile so bright, her expression so radiant, so full of love, that for just a second it felt…good. And then his heart imploded.
Yeah, he’d wanted her, but not like this. He didn’t ever want a woman like this.
It was wrong. All of it. Being here. Hannah holding the baby. And it was too much. This entire night was suddenly too fucking much.
“Excuse me.” He shoved back in his chair as memories gained a chokehold around his throat. The iron legs scraped across the wooden deck, and he made a swift exit to the kitchen. He’d spent too many family gatherings imagining his wife beside him. Imagining his own babies being passed around the table, his own children adding to the mayhem.
But that had all died a violent, bloody death. And so had he.
With his hands braced on the edge of the sink, he sucked in air through his nose, trying not to be sick. His fist tightened on the bottle in his hand. His muscles tensed, thinking how good it would feel to heave it across the room, hear the glass shatter. Hear something outwardly break, like he’d been broken.
He’d spent the first two years in a bottle and he’d still felt lost. The next two years screwing a multitude of women. And he’d still been alone.
Then he’d turned to work, where he managed, commanded. It had brought him wealth and power, but it hadn’t brought her back. It only filled the holes, or if not filled, at least covered them.
The muscles in his arms trembled at the need to throw something bigger. Hit something. Hurt someone. This is why he avoided his family. Why he avoided anything and anyone that made him feel too much.
He pushed the bottle aside and looked down at his hands, white-knuckled, blue veins thickening to the surface. The hands of a man who wanted to draw blood and cause pain. Hands he knew could kill. Inviting Hannah here had been a mistake. Coming here at all felt like a royal mistake, even more so when he heard swift footsteps entering the kitchen behind him.