Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Yet I walked into every room, checking.
Nothing.
The ocean air hit me as I went outside to the deck, breathing it in, wishing my breath to steady. The sky and the sea yawned in front of me, comforting me with their endlessness.
My entire body tensed at the dark form emerging from the shadows, my heart clenching and the dragon inside of me roaring, happy, ecstatic about the threat, the chance to prove myself, to let go of this fury.
“Easy,” my brother said as he came into focus.
“You gotta stop doin’ that shit,” I gritted out, my fists staying clenched.
“What am I gonna do? Ring the doorbell at two in the morning?” he asked dryly.
I shook my head, sitting in our outdoor chairs.
He sat beside me.
“Baby and Avery sleeping?” he asked.
I nodded, rubbing at my jaw.
“She doing better?”
I nodded again. “She’s doing fuckin’ great.”
I knew she didn’t think so. Knew she punished herself for every one of her feelings she considered weaknesses. But she was a great fucking mother. An excellent chef, had bridged the gap between her and her mother and sister, had made friends, laid roots in Jupiter. I considered that to be something to be in awe of. Which I was. Every day.
“Good,” Knox replied.
We didn’t say anything for a long while, listening to the waves crash in the darkness.
“How do you do it?” he finally asked.
I looked at my brother’s profile, seeing him in the dim light. He looked … different. Almost tortured.
“Do what?”
He continued looking at the ocean. “Love someone.”
My jaw dropped. He was tortured because he was in fucking love. My brother. The man who considered himself a monster. And he was wrecked over it.
Fuck, I was elated. Or I wanted to be. It wasn’t going to be simple for him. It was going to be wrought with pain. That much I understood. I yearned to ask questions, a shitload of them, about this person who’d ensnared my brother, scaled his countless defenses.
But that was not the time.
“It’s not somethin’ you do, brother.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s something you … surrender to.” I smiled at him. “Know you’re not exactly practiced in surrender.”
He laughed without humor. “No. I’m not. And I can’t. I won’t ruin her life.”
I opened my mouth to tell him no way in fuck was that true, but he stood, running his hands through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture.
“This was a mistake,” he muttered. “All of it.”
Again, I opened my mouth to try to bring him back, to help him. But he was already turning his back.
I watched him walk toward the beach. It wasn’t my job to save him. I hoped to fuck whoever this woman was, that she could do it.
I glanced down at the monitor, to my sleeping girls. I prayed my brother would find the strength to surrender like I had, because there was nothing in the world like it.
Then I took a breath, stood. I went back inside, curled into bed with my baby and my woman and thanked my lucky fucking stars that I got this gift.
Finally, sleep came easily.