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Still, I rap my knuckles on the partially opened door and Carter looks up from his laptop. I swear it’s always the same with him. The thick dark curtains are closed behind him. The fireplace is lit and the light leaves a soft glow across the long wall of old books and a shadow across his face.

It’s not until he registers it’s me that his expression softens. It’s quite the opposite of what I feel. Knowing he must want to discuss my Braelynn, I’m already guarded and defensive. I’m positive my expression must reflect that although if Carter sees it, he doesn’t let on.

As he leans back, the chair groans and he motions to the wingback in front of him. “It has your name on it,” he comments and then reaches for the mug on his desk. He finds it empty, though, and sets the ceramic cup back down.

As I take a seat, he runs a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You know, Mom always told me you’d give me a run for my money.”

“What?” I can’t help that the word slips out and a warmth I wasn’t expecting comes over me. It’s a rare day that we talk about our mother.

Very rare. We don’t talk about what life was like before she died and everything changed.

“You were an animal. Climbing on everything. No fear as a toddler.”

“Then I grew up,” I joke dryly, but my grin doesn’t dampen.

Carter huffs a laugh. “You were her favorite and I—”

“I was her baby boy, but she loved us all.” I can almost hear her saying it, calling me her baby boy.

The memory of my mother makes the tips of my fingers go numb and I find myself tapping them against the leather armrest. My mother loved us more than anything and she would have done anything for us. But the last years of our life she spent sick and on bed rest. I can barely remember a moment with her where she wasn’t succumbing to her cancer. The rest of my brothers can, though. They remember things I don’t. We all remember our father, though, and how he turned into a different man when she died. In a lot of ways, he died with her.

“I remember one day,” Carter says, leaning back and staring past me at the back wall, “she said that when she was gone, that you were the one who would give me a run for my money.”

I let out a huff, knowing damn full well Daniel is the one who we all had to keep close. But that’s for an entirely different reason. When he left, for a long time I thought he might never come back. That was a dark time for us all.

“You were her favorite,” Carter says as if he’s reminiscing. All of my brothers say that, but I know she loved us all.

“Is that why you called me in here?” I ask him with a smirk although I’m not feeling jovial. I’m more anxious than anythingafter leaving Braelynn. For her, I crossed a line messaging her mother on her behalf. For me, she needs to realize things have shifted to be sharper than before. There’s a number of things she’s going to be uncomfortable with and the sooner we get that situated, the better.

“It’s about Braelynn,” he tells me and I huff a humorless laugh, running a hand through the back of my hair. “Of course it is,” I answer. “I told you, it’s taken care of.”

“She’s scared, Declan.”

“No shit—” I almost remind him how out of fucking touch he is. How all of this is a shock to her. How even his own wife once had a more difficult time coping than Braelynn is right now … and Aria grew up in the life.

“I don’t want to fight. This isn’t me coming for her or getting in between you two. I’m trying to help … to find a way for …”

“For what?”

“For both of you to be happy and … she’s fucking terrified.”

My tone is harsh when I tell him, “She needs time; she’ll be fine.” My throat dries as I stare down my brother. She ismine. They can’t take her away from me. Although my hackles are raised, his aren’t.

“Aria told me they had a conversation,” he confesses. Slight shock and, to my surprise, betrayal flicker through me.Why wouldn’t she tell me?

“Did she tell you?”

“No,” I answer and I readjust in the seat uncomfortably. “She didn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t long, but Aria let me know.” Braelynn didn’t tell me. Why the hell wouldn’t she tell me?

“What did they talk about?”

All manner of things race through my mind. The one question I’ve just asked Carter, though, screams that I don’t have the control over Braelynn I thought I did and that’s dangerous.It’s a dangerous thing for her to be in my world, but to not confide in me. To have secrets even.

“Aria didn’t say exactly. She just said she was obviously not well and reluctant to say anything at all.”


Tags: W. Winters Romance