“I think it’s time to go,” I whisper.

Her hand traces the line of my jaw, and she smiles. Her expression isn’t filled with sympathy or pity, like I would expect. Only understanding.

We drive in silence. This is why I resisted when Mom initially invited Celia to our family dinner. With the bad days far outweighing the good ones lately, I should have known better.

The truck approaches the pond, and I make a split second decision and slam the brakes to turn in.

“Whoa,” Celia squeaks, clutching the “oh shit” handle.

“Sorry, I’m not trying to kill us, but I thought we’d make a pit stop. You game?”

She looks out the window at the pond and turns back with a huge smile. “Sure.”

After helping her out of the truck, I grab a blanket I have stashed in the back seat. I smell the honeysuckle bush before I see it, and it reminds me of her. I walk over and snap a flower, then slide it behind her ear.

“Perfect,” I say as her shiny blue eyes melt just a bit more. I tug her hand, pulling her with me. “Come on.”

She peers off the wharf into the tiny boat and looks back at me with wide eyes. “You never said anything about a boat.”

I roll my eyes and step into the boat, tossing the blanket at my feet. I outstretch my hand and give her my most charming smile. “Live a little, my beautiful fairy. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Oh really? You’re the reason I’m afraid. No way a guy your size should be in a boat this tiny. We’ll sink for sure!” She crosses her arms with a huff and gives me a skeptical look.

“Celia, I fish in this boat every Saturday. Trust me,” I say as I reach for her again. This time, she reluctantly takes my hand and carefully steps into the boat.

Once I have her settled on one of the tiny benches, I start the motor and putter out to the center of the pond. The only sounds are the chirping crickets, the croaking frogs, and the water lapping the sides of the boat. After spreading the blanket out on the bottom of the boat, I settle in and tug Celia to join me. I sit her between my legs, her back to my front, and wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my chest. A long, relaxed sigh releases from her lips as her head falls back onto my chest.

“You have the best ideas, Cain,” she whispers.

“That’s a fact.” She chuckles lightly at my response, and we both settle into the silence while we stargaze. Everything is amplified out here, away from the city. The sky is blacker, the stars are brighter, the words we whisper seem to hold more meaning.

“He thinks I’m his son, my mom’s brother,” I say, breaking the silence.

“What?” Celia shifts to see my face.

“Tucker. He was my mom’s brother. He died in a car accident before I was born. It was a tough time for everyone, from what I’ve been told. Sarge took it especially hard.”

“That’s terrible, Cain. I’m sorry your family had to go through that,” she says.

“Yeah, me too. Anyway, I hold a small resemblance to Tucker, so he gets confused.”

“When was he diagnosed?”

“Gosh,” I say, blowing out a breath, thinking back to the beginning, when I wasn’t even aware of what was going on. I was just a kid. “It’s been over ten years now. We moved home because Granny started seeing signs. Missed payments, lapsed permits, things she could no longer attribute to simple forgetfulness. Mo got him in to see the best neurologist in Shreveport, and he confirmed what they already knew. Sarge was in the early stages of Alzheimer’s.

“Mom took over the books for his rental properties, and, as I got older, I’ve taken on more and more responsibility. I pretty much run everything now, with the help of my cousin, Will. He’s still in college, but we’ll run the business together.”

I still remember the first time I saw Sarge lash out at Mom. The more she tried to explain things to him, the more agitated he got. After getting right in her face and yelling, he threw the papers in the air and stormed out of the house. I’d never in my life seen him act that way. Unfortunately, it’s become all too common as time goes on.

“That has to be hard for your family,” Celia says as her fingers run absentmindedly through my hair.

“The worst part of it is, I don’t recognize him anymore. He’s not the man who helped raise me. Sarge has always been a hard ass, but he was a fair man. He took on the role of father figure in my life; he taught me what it means to be a man.” I shake my head and think of all that’s happened in the last decade. “His personality has changed so much. He’s become rigid and unwavering—cruel even. Do you know Mo can’t even be around him anymore? He tells her she’s going to hell for her ‘deviant lifestyle.’ The Sarge I know would never say things like that. He’s always loved Mo.”

“I wonder where that’s coming from; I mean, why he all of a sudden has a problem with their relationship,” Celia mumbles, wondering aloud.

“Mom says he had a hard time accepting the relationship in the beginning, but he loves her, and he grew to love Mo. I guess he’s pulling from old beliefs, I don’t know. He’s said some hateful things to Mom, too, but it’s been a lot less common now that Mo doesn’t come around. I guess it’s out of sight, out of mind.”

“I know it’s hard for you to accept the man he is today. But I want you to know I saw a lot of the man who raised you tonight. I can see why you love and respect him. He’s still there, he’s just harder to see.”

I close my eyes and let her words settle within me. I’m not sure why, but it brings me comfort. Maybe it’s nice to know parts of him, the great parts of him, are still discernable.

“With every day that passes, he slips further away. I want to spend as much time with him as I can, and at the same time, watching his mind deteriorate is killing me. Watching someone I love slowly disappear before my eyes is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Yes,” she whispers softly. “Yes, it is.”

Celia faces me, sitting on her knees, her hands on my cheeks. Her thumb rubs back and forth across my stubble, as her eyes stay trained on my lips.

“I’m sorry for all of this heavy shit. I wanted tonight to be fun, but that’s not how it turned out, did it?” I squeeze her waist gently and rest my forehead to hers.

“There were parts of tonight that were fun. But even better, tonight was real. I love being real with you, Cain.”

Before I can answer, her fingers tighten, pressing into my skin, pulling me closer. When her lips touch mine, it feels like victory. She sucks in a ragged breath as she bites down on my bottom lip. Her teeth ignite me. Her lips taunt me. Her tongue slides against mine and awakens my ever-present hunger. Her body inches closer, and I pull her to me, pressing her into my cock. I want her to know what she does to me—how fucking hard she makes me.

Her whimper turns into a faint giggle. “Well, that feels real. So very real,” she whispers as she pushes her hot, little body into mine.

“See what you do to me?” I drop my head into the crook of her neck, the hint of honeysuckle surrounding me.

The sky rumbles and drops of water splash on the back of my neck. I look up to the sky moments before it opens up, showering us with sheets of rain.

Celia screeches and covers her head, as if her tiny hands will shield her from the torrential downpour. “Hurry, Cain, we’re getting soaked!”

I throw my head back and laugh. “No worries. Cheap sugar doesn’t melt, darlin’.”

Celia drops her hands and stares at me in disbelief. “Did you just call me cheap?” She hears a rumble of thunder and throws her hands back over her drenched head. “Shit, whatever, just hurry!”

I start the boat, chuckling to myself the entire time, and drive us back to the wharf. I slowly and carefully help her out of the boat before tying it up and meeting her at the truck, where she’s squealing and doing the pee-pee dance.