Second Chance at Sunflower Ranch (The Ryan Family #1) by Carolyn Brown

“I’m sure he and Mia both have fake IDs,” Addy answered, “just like we did when we were their age. Only we just wanted to drink beer and dance at the honky tonks.”

“How did our parents survive us?” Jesse sighed.

“We must be paying for our raising.” Addy looked up into his eyes.

“If we are, then I worry about any children that Mia might have, even if they are bought children like me and my brothers,” Jesse said.

“She speaks before she thinks.” Addy blinked and focused on something across the room.

Jesse leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “We did too when we were young and stupid. Still do sometimes. No worries. I seldom ever think of us as being foster kids and then adopted.”

“Neither do Sonny and Pearl,” Addy said. “I should ’fess up to something. When I had Mia, things didn’t go well. She was a big baby, ten pounds and three ounces, and I had a lot of problems. The doctors had to do an emergency hysterectomy when she was two days old. Maybe the fact that I couldn’t have more made me hold her a little too close. She should have had her wild streak when she was in high school so that I could have still been here for her.”

Jesse tipped her chin up again. “I’m sorry that you had to go through that alone.”

“I survived with Granny’s help, and even kept up with my online classes,” she said and moved out of his lap to go to the kitchen. “I thought you should know. Want a beer?”

“Yes, please,” he answered. “Since we’re confessing, I’ve always had a fear of having kids,” Jesse said. “I was given away by my parents. They were both very young from what I found out when I looked into it. I investigated a little deeper and learned that they’re both dead. I’ve wondered if they were like Ricky—reckless and dangerous, and if that gene would come through if I had kids. Then there’s always the thought that if I did father a child, I wouldn’t want it after it was born. My biological father didn’t want me, so what if I was like that?”

Addy brought back two cans of beer and handed him one, then she settled down on the sofa right next to him. “I don’t think you’ve got a thing to worry about. As angry as you were about Ricky, you are a good father even if you came into the picture when your daughter was grown.”

“I did have a moment there”—he opened his beer and tipped it up for a swallow—“and then several more when we got home.”

“So did I, but she’s got her feet back under her now, and I believe she’s going to be all right.” Addy set her beer down and laid her palm on his cheek. “What is this between us, Jesse? We’re not kids anymore, so what are we?”

“What do you want us to be?” He covered her hand with his, then moved it away from his face to kiss her palm.

“I’m not sure. We live on this ranch together. It could get awkward if…”

He put a finger over her lips. “We’ll never know if we don’t give it a try.”

“How do we do that?” she asked. “We’ve both got a lot of baggage here.”

“Yes, and hopefully, we are good enough friends to help each other unload all that baggage.” He smiled and leaned just slightly to cover her lips with his.

She tasted like cold beer, and her damp hair smelled like the beach. That was quite a heady mixture. He tangled his fingers in her kinky hair and braced her head for more and more steamy, hot kisses.

When she finally pulled away, they were both panting. “Haven’t felt like that…” He stopped and caught his breath. “In almost twenty years.”

“Oh, come on, Jesse Ryan,” she said. “You can’t tell me you haven’t kissed a girl since we spent the night together in this bunkhouse.”

“I can tell you that none of them ever made me feel like you did and still do.” He brushed another sweet kiss across her lips.

“Right back at you,” she said.

A knock on the door brought them both to their feet. “Hey, anyone home?”

“That’s Mia,” Addy said as she raced across the living area and threw the door open. “Are you all right? Are you hurting somewhere?”

Mia stepped into the bunkhouse. “I’m fine, Mama. I was too wound up to sleep, so I went to your room, but you weren’t there. I thought you might be down here. Y’all having trouble getting everything from today out of your minds, too? And did you see that moon out there? Nana told me it’s called a Strawberry Moon.” She talked as she headed across the room and sat down on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. “I keep seeing that woman in so much pain, and then Nana and Poppa were so worried that I was afraid they would have a heart attack. Nana told me while you were in the shower that she wasn’t sure she could survive losing one of her boys, or me or you, Mama. I would feel just horrible if I caused her to die.”

“We come equipped for the grief that comes when we lose a parent or a grandparent.” Addy took a long drink of her beer. “We grieve and we hurt when that happens. But losing a child is an unnatural grief, one that we never get over.”

“How do you know?” Mia asked. “Did you lose a baby? Is it all right if I get a bottle of water from the fridge?”