Jessica Keller - The Single Mom's Second Chance

“Well, it was said and can’t be taken back.” She rounded the chair and headed for the door. “Nothing can be taken back.”

Evan sighed. “I know that better than anyone.” He slowly stood, stepped forward and dropped his hand on the edge of the chair. “Why’d you come home, Claire? The truth.”

Her back was toward him. He watched her shoulders rise with a deep breath. She had every right to barge out his door without supplying an answer. He wasn’t owed one.

Claire fisted her hand and spun around. “Why did you stay?”

Not what he was expecting.

Evan rocked on his feet. “I have nowhere else to go.”

“Same.” One word, but her voice caught on it. “That’s the reason I’m here.”

Evan started toward her, his feet moving before he could determine if he wanted to comfort her or not. He couldn’t leave her standing there, looking like she was about to cry. He had to do something. Given that they were running against each other, and given their past, he probably shouldn’t. But logical reasoning had never been his strong suit.

However, it had always been Claire’s, which was probably why, before he could make it to her side, she gathered her coat and purse and fumbled with the doorknob. She yanked it open. “I’ll see you at the town hall meeting tomorrow.” She wrapped her scarf around her neck and flung the end of it over her shoulder, then shoved her arms into her coat. “I’ll be the one winning, in case there was still any confusion.”

The door slammed before he could take another step. The sound reverberated through his chest and a clump of sadness thudded into the bottom of his gut, the weight reminding him that there was no reason to chase after her. Claire didn’t want him to follow; she’d made that clear twelve years ago when he wrote her letter after letter for a year and she never responded.

“Night, Claire,” he mumbled.

“Whoa! That lady is a tornado in high heels.” Laura pounded down the stairs behind him. When she wasn’t lying on the floor of her bedroom listening to music, his sister seemed to always be in a hurry.

Evan gathered the empty mugs from the family room and carried them to the sink. “How much of that did you overhear?”

His sister followed in his wake, then boosted herself onto the island’s counter. “You mean, how much of that did I intentionally eavesdrop on from my prime hiding location at the top of the stairs?”

Evan raised an eyebrow at her as he rinsed out the cups. Despite the thirteen-year age gap, he was close to his sister, and he loved her fiercely. The two of them enjoyed ribbing each other as much as he made a habit out of kidding with Brice.

Laura snagged an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it with a loud crunch. “Oh, only all of it.”

“You should wash that before eating it.”

“Okay, Mom.” She rubbed the apple on her jeans and then took another bite.

“Laura.” His voice held a warning. “An ounce of respect would be nice.”

It was difficult, this balance between them. He wanted to be her fun-loving brother. Someone she could always tease and be lighthearted with. There was so much heaviness attached to the rest of their family relationships, even with Brice. Evan yearned to make sure she knew she could be herself with him—even if that meant sassing him occasionally. Yet he was left to play parent as well, which often carried the weight of setting her straight, and occasionally that meant disciplining her, which bothered him.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t they say a little dirt don’t hurt?”

“The farmers shoot all sorts of pesticides on them while they’re growing.” He tapped the fruit bowl. “Now you’re eating those chemicals.”

“Well, the good news is,” she said around another bite of apple, “I’m apparently not a bug and will live.” When she was finished, she acted as if she was making a three-point shot and tossed the core into the trash can. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger and all that nonsense.”

Evan flipped a dish towel over his shoulder as he loaded the dishwasher. “Did you come down here only to speak in platitudes or was there another reason you listened in on my conversation?”

“Ev, man, you’re on point tonight.” Laura hopped down from the counter. “Does she do this to you? That Claire?”

He almost asked what it meant to be “on point” but thought better of it. He’d never be able to keep up with his sister’s ever-changing teenspeak.

“Claire—” Evan shut the dishwasher and jammed the Pots and Pans button to On “—does nothing to me. We’re running against each other for mayor.”

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.