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I never needed the world to know I was Jake Beckett's daughter. And I sure don't need them to know now. I don't want his free pass into the music industry. "No. I don't want anyone to know."

"I don't understand."

I'm sure he doesn't. Most people wouldn't. "I don't want my success based on the fact that I'm Jake Beckett's daughter. I want to make it because I'm a damn good musician. If you announce that you're my father, I'll never know if I was good enough to succeed on my own."

I can tell he doesn't like it, but that's really too bad. "I'll do whatever you want, Laurelyn. Just promise me I can announce it after you've proven yourself."

I'm not in a place where I'm anxious to make promises. "Let me make it first, and then we'll go from there."

Chapter Four

I've spent the last week at my apartment in Sydney because I thought I'd lose my mind if I stayed another day at Avalon. Laurelyn's memory haunts me every place I look. There isn't a place on the vineyard that I don't see her, but my bed is the worst. I won't let Mrs. Porcelli wash the sheets because I want to lie in them and still smell Laurelyn next to me.

How desperate is that?

My decision to come to Sydney was ultimately a good one. Although the whole number-fourteen thing was a huge mistake, it opened my eyes to what needed to be done, so I can't regret it in that aspect. But in every other way, it was the stupidest decision I'd ever made. I don't know why I thought anything could drive Laurelyn out of my head. Amnesia couldn't erase her from my brain. She's etched there forever.

My time hiding out at my apartment has come to an end. It's time for me to return to Avalon. I can't neglect the vineyard during the harvest any longer.

I'm almost ready to leave when my phone rings, my brother's name on the screen. It's early yet. I immediately worry something has happened to Dad because Evan would never call me so early otherwise. "What is it?"

"Nothing's wrong. I, uh…was just wondering if I could come by and talk to you for a minute before I go to work?"

This is strange—not like my brother at all. And he doesn't have to be at work until much later, so I know something's up. "Sure."

"I'm leaving the house now so I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

I take one look at Evan after he arrives and I return the compliment he gave me a week ago when he picked me up at The Langford. "You look like shit." He doesn't retaliate and that's when I know that whatever is up with him is serious. "What's going on, bro?"

"I just need to talk to somebody."

"Okay. I'm somebody, so shoot."

Evan rubs his hand across his chin and that's when I notice he hasn't shaved—in a while—which isn't like him at all. But it isn't like me, either, and I'm sporting the same unkempt look on my face right now. "It's Em. She's pregnant again."

I don't know what I was expecting, but that definitely wasn't it. From the looks of him, I thought it would be something more dire. "Oh. Well, I guess congratulations are in order, but I'm a little surprised. I didn't think you were planning on more kids."

He laughs but doesn't appear at all amused. "We weren't. She left her birth control pills at the house when we went away on that little weekender a couple of months ago. We thought we'd be okay if she caught up on them after we got back. We were wrong."

"How does Em feel about it?"

"She's happy—and already talking about it like it's a boy. She's always thought I wanted a son, but I never cared if we had one or not. I'm crazy about my girls."

He doesn't have to tell me how much he loves his daughters and Emma; they're his world. He could've had all the money and luxuries I have, but he turned his back on it for his family. "So you're not happy about a new baby?"

"No, I'm not. And I'm a selfish motherfucker for feeling the way I do." He draws a deep breath and releases it slowly before he begins to pace my living room floor, hands on each side of his head. This is a new look for him and it has me worried about the reason behind his conflict.

I don't know if I'll be able to help him, but I can listen, even if I can't offer advice. "You can tell me what's on your mind and I won't judge you. I mean, hell…look at what I've been up to for the last four years. It's not like I've been tightening my halo. I'm in no position to pass judgment."

He sits on the couch and leans over, head in his hands. "I feel like I just got Emma back. Mila has practically been attached to her tits for the past year. Twelve damn months is a long time for your wife to have a kid milking her day and night. Bro, it's the worst kind of cockblock. I feel like a bastard for wanting my kid to lay off her food source so I can get a f**k."

Wow. Those are some words I'll never get out of my head. I could've done without hearing that.

"Two months. That's how long Mila's been weaned, and it's been great. Both kids are out of our bed and in their own rooms. I've finally been able to f**k my wife in our bed instead of sneaking off to do it quietly on the couch when she doesn't have a kid sucking on her like a leech. But now there's going to be another one coming along to get between us."

Fuck! I'm never sitting on their couch again.

I don't know what to tell him. I have no advice about this situation. "It sounds like you better get crackin'. You have, what…seven months before it gets here? I'd stock up for the winter while I could."

"But that's another thing," he grumbles. "Emma always has preterm labor and gets put on pelvic rest, so it's going to thwart me months before it even gets here."

Damn. My little brother has me feeling sorry for him. "Does Mum know yet?"

"Yeah. We told her last night. She's thrilled beyond words. She wasn't expecting to get another grandchild until you found Laurelyn and knocked her up."

Until I knock Laurelyn up. There was a time when hearing something like that would've caused me to lose it, but not today. I'm no longer afraid of what life would be like with a family. I'm way more afraid of what it would be like without one—but particularly without Laurelyn. I know she wants babies and I plan on giving them to her—as many as she wants, any time she's ready. I very much look forward to putting them inside her.

"It'll be okay. I'm sure you and Emma will make it work just fine with another kid."

"I know it'll be okay. I'm just panicking because this one wasn't planned. I feel like I've lost control and I don't like it. God, you must think I'm a total dickhead for calling my own kid a cockblocker."

"I told you I wouldn't judge—and I won't—because I don't know how I'd feel if it were me in your shoes. And we both know you'll love the little cockblocker."


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