Page 45 of Hideaway Heart

She continued looking at the photo of my parents posing next to their wedding cake, broad smiles on both their faces. “They look so happy.”

“They were. On their first date, he told her he was going to marry her. Six months later, he did it.”

“Really?” She laughed. “I love that. I guess when you know, you know, huh?”

“That’s what he always said.”

She turned to face me. “Think you’ll ever get married?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I’d like a family. And my brother has two kids already. I hate it when he’s winning, so I need at least three right away.”

She headed for the stairs. “You’d have three kids just to beat your brother at something?”

“I’d do pretty much anything to beat my brother at something,” I said. “But I do think I’d be a good dad.”

Amused, she glanced at me over her shoulder. “Why am I not surprised?”

I grinned. “Just telling it like it is.”

She started up the stairs, one hand trailing on the banister, Fritz at her heels. The steps creaked beneath her feet. “Three kids, huh? Boys or girls?”

“I’d like both. But I’ll probably end up with three rowdy boys just like me.”

“Your poor wife.”

“What about you? Do you want a family?”

“Eventually.” She reached the top of the stairs. “So which bedroom is yours?”

“Top of the stairs on the left.”

As she reached the landing, I quickly raced into my room ahead of her to yank the bed covers up. “Sorry. I didn’t make my bed before I left.”

Kelly laughed. “A military man like you? No hospital corners?”

“I’m out of practice.” I glanced around the room—was it presentable? I kept it fairly neat, although my dresser could probably use a dusting, and it was a little embarrassing that there were two twin beds with solar system bedding instead of something more adult. “This was Owen’s room when Austin and his kids lived here,” I said.

“They lived here?” She peeked into the bathroom Austin and I had shared with Devlin and Dash as kids and stuck her head into their bedroom on the other side of it.

“For a few years, before I moved back. Austin and the twins’ mom were never really together, and she was going to give them up for adoption, but he said he would take them and raise them on his own. They moved in with my dad so Austin would have help.”

“Wow.” She peered out the window that overlooked the backyard. “How old was he?”

“Twenty-five.” I perched on the edge of one bed while she perused the items on my dresser top—a handful of change, a couple cologne bottles, a used dryer sheet, my camera.

“That’s really mature and responsible for a twenty-five-year-old guy,” she remarked, sniffing each bottle of cologne.

“Even as a kid, Austin was always mature and responsible.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“It’s not a bad thing,” I said quickly. “I’ve got a lot of respect for Austin. And I understand why he is the way he is. After our mom died, he had to pick up a lot of slack. He was the second parent in many ways. And for many years.”

She turned around still holding one of the cologne bottles and leaned back against the dresser. “That had to be so hard for him. For all of you.”

“Yeah.” I thought for a moment. “We all kind of handled it differently. I think for Austin, bearing up and taking on that role ofrockfor the rest of us was how he coped. I never saw him break down.”

Moving the bottle back and forth in front of her nose, she inhaled. “How didyoucope?”