Easton

The Swift Brothers #2

By
Riley Hart

Copyright © 2024 by Riley Hart

Kindle Edition

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

Published by:

Riley Hart

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

All products/brand names/trademarks mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

Cover Design: Sleepy Fox Studio

Cover Photography: Wander Aguiar

Edited by Keren Reed Editing

Proofread by Judy’s Proofreading and Lori Parks

Blurb

I’m the youngest Swift brother. The one who’s always in trouble and can’t get his life together. I wouldn’t know where to start, and ever since my twin died, I can’t bring myself to care. After my last “situation,” Dad washed his hands of me. And though my brothers should’ve done the same, they stood up for me, fracturing their relationship with him too. He’s a terrible father to all of us, but considering we’re just figuring out how to build a relationship, I don’t want them to lose him because of me.

Officer Archer Thorn won’t stop coming around either. After every screwup, every bad day, Archer’s there to offer a hand. Before I know it, we’re going to dog parks, sharing meals, and Archer seems at home hanging at my place. When he touches me, fills me, all the noise in my head goes quiet. He makes me want more, but he doesn’t know how much that terrifies me, how much I worry that getting better means breaking a promise I made years ago.

Each moment with Archer shows me how good a man he is. For the first time, I actually want to face my trauma and get over my past. Archer makes me see there’s beauty in the world and, more importantly, he makes me want some of it for myself…that is, if I don’t ruin Archer Thorn first.

Easton is a small-town, hurt/comfort romance full of heart, heat, a touch-starved MC, and brothers learning how to have a relationship with each other. It deals with themes of grief, death of a parent and a sibling, and mental-health struggles.

Content Warning

Protecting yourself and your mental health is always the most important thing, so along with the warnings in the blurb, I wanted to go into a little more detail below.

***SPOILERS FOLLOW***

Easton deals with themes of loss and grief (mother, sibling, cousin), mental-health struggles, PTSD, flashbacks, auditory hallucinations, survivor’s guilt regarding the drowning of a twin, and verbal abuse by a parent. There’s a scene where East relives the death of his sister that could be difficult to read.

I’d like to offer a HUGE thank-you to therapist/mental health workers: B. Ripley, Eve Holmes, and Jill for sensitivity reading Easton and helping me tell his story with grace, kindness, and authenticity.

PROLOGUE

Easton

Ten years ago

Dad’s gonna be pissed, Ella says in my thoughts.

I pace the woods behind our house. It’s one of the places I go when I want to get away.

She’s right, I know she’s right, but I’m so tired of caring. It used to matter what Dad thought, both before and after Ella died, but I’m done with that now. It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t, he’ll never be happy with me. I’ll never be the kind of son he wants.

He’ll never love me.

He never has, and he sure as shit won’t start now.

“Fuck him. I hate him,” I reply out loud.

I walk over to a log and sit down. My leg’s bouncing up and down. My heart’s slamming against my chest.

In my mind, my dead twin sits beside me. She looks how I imagine she would if she’d made it to seventeen like me—blond hair, blue eyes, just like our mother. That’s what everyone always says about us; well, about me now.

Ella looks at my hands, which are bruised from the fight I got into. I got suspended, but by this point, I should be expelled. The only reason I’m not is Dad. He intervenes on my behalf, but he doesn’t do it for me. When he gets me out of trouble, it’s for himself, because of his reputation, because he cares so much about what others think.

This time, though, it wasn’t Dad who came to the school. It was my oldest brother, Rhett. He just got home from law school—he’s following in Dad’s footsteps. I can’t help wondering when he’ll start hating me just like Dad does.

You need to stop fighting, East, Ella tells me. I’m worried about you.

“I’m fine.” But I know I’m not. I don’t know how to be fine…or if I care enough to try. I don’t sleep well. Have nightmares. I’m a mess. “I just miss you…can’t figure out how to make it stop.”

She gives me a sad smile, her eyes the same shade of blue as mine. It’s like looking in a mirror.

“East? Who are you talking to?” Rhett asks, and my pretend-Ella disappears.

The thing is, I know she wasn’t there. She hasn’t been there since we were nine years old and I killed her. Since we were playing hide-and-seek, and I gave her the idea to hide in the boat…the boat that turned over…that trapped her beneath it…where she drowned. But my head and heart are really good at making me think she is with me sometimes. I want it so much. I can’t let go of her, can’t live without her, so I do whatever I have to do to make sure we’ll always be together, even if that means creating her in my head.

“Go away,” I snap at Rhett, wanting him gone, needing him gone so I can talk to Ella again. If I do it in my head, I’ll just space out, and he’ll know something’s wrong.

“Easton, who were you talking to?” Rhett asks again, coming closer, looming over me and making me feel small. I’m not a little guy, but he’s broader than me, taller. He and Morgan—our middle brother—both have dark hair and look more like our dad.

“Nobody! Myself. Jesus Christ. Leave me alone.” I shove to my feet. “Did you come out here to tell me how big of a fuckup I am? Because I already know. I don’t need you to tell me. I don’t need you to be Dad’s fucking errand boy. Stop trying to fix me.”

I try to walk away, but Rhett grabs ahold of my wrist. “I’m not here for Dad. I was worried about you. In fact, I was thinking we don’t even have to tell Dad about this. I took care of it, so the school won’t call him.”

My heart stumbles over his words, hope trying to push its way to the surface, before I realize that Rhett isn’t doing this for me either. It’s not because he cares about me. He just doesn’t want to upset Dad. Everything is about him.

“Fuck you, Rhett.” I jerk my arm away.

“Hey. Chill out. Why are you so pissed at me? I’m trying to help you.”

I don’t answer, walk away, wishing Ella were here for me to talk to. She always loved me. She is my person. My heart.

“I’m worried about you, East. I know I’ve been gone for a while, with college and law school, but I’m back for good now. I want to fix things with us, to help you.”

My body tenses. They all think there’s something wrong with me, and there probably is. I know there is. I killed my sister, and I’ll never be able to get past that, and all I can think is if they fix me, she’ll go away. “Where’s Morgan?” I snap. If Rhett’s out here with me, Morgan must not be around.

Rhett flinches as if I’ve hurt him, but I’m not sure how I could have. The two of them have always been in some kind of Swift brothers’ club I’ve never been invited to. They’re the sons Dad cares about. And they’ve always cared more about fighting each other than about me. The only place I’ve never been an outsider was with Ella.

“I’m just trying to help,” Rhett tells me again.

“How many times do I have to say I don’t need your help?” I’m sorry. I’m broken. I’m not worth it. I don’t know how to be any other way.

Rhett sighs, looks down, shoulders suddenly looking like he’s carrying the weight of the world on them. Without another word, he turns and walks back toward the house.

El? I say, in my head this time. I talk to her this way too, but now she doesn’t reply, doesn’t come back, leaving me feeling even more alone than usual.

It’s more than an hour later when I return to the house. As soon as I step inside, I hear Dad. “He’s a loser! I’m done with that kid. I should have sent him away a long time ago. He’s a disgrace to the family name.”

With each word, I sink into myself more and more, hide anything positive or hopeful that might linger inside me, buried deep and unreachable.

“He’s hurting. Maybe we should try and get him some help,” Rhett tells him.

“Now you sound like Morgan. All about feelings and emotions. I thought you were better than that, Rhett. We all lost the same things, and none of us act like Easton. He’s been different from the start. There’s something wrong with him.”

I leave before I can hear anything else because the truth is, he’s right. They don’t even know my worst secret, yet Dad already knows I’m not worth it.

I stay out late, get drunk, and stumble onto the porch at God knows what time.

Morgan shoves out of the house, bag in hand, almost tripping over me as I lie by the stairs. The porch light is bright. There seem to be two Morgans, and both are bruised and beaten up.

“Shit, East. There you are. I was looking for you.”

“You’re leaving already?” I can’t take my eyes off his bag. Morgan hates it here as much as I do—the difference being that I would hate it everywhere and he won’t—but him leaving wasn’t supposed to happen for a few more weeks.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore. I… Rhett…”

“What about Dusty?” The two idiots are in love with each other. I’m pretty sure Dusty realizes it, but Morgan doesn’t. Or he won’t let himself because he knows loving Dusty means staying in Birchbark.

“Fuck Dusty. Fuck Rhett. I don’t give a shit about either of them. I can’t wait to get the hell out of here and never look back.”

What about me?

“Jesus, East. Are you drunk?” Morgan kneels beside me, tries to reach out and touch my face, but I pull away.

“I thought you were going?”

“What happened to you today?” He looks at my hands, which means he must not have talked to Dad or Rhett. They didn’t tell him I fucked up again.

“The same thing that happened to your face.”

He’s trying to help. Rhett was too, earlier.

El?

Let them help you, East. They love you. They’re not like him.

If they do love me, they shouldn’t.

They’re our brothers. Let them in. I don’t want you to be alone.

I’m not alone. I have you.

“East? Are you okay?” Morgan’s voice is sharp, panicked, pulling me out of my conversation with Ella. From the way he’s looking at me, I can tell he realized I was lost in myself, that I didn’t notice him talking to me. If he knew why… They would lock me away. No one would understand.

“What happened to your face?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“Come on. Let’s get you in the house. I’ll help you into bed before I go.”

I shake my head, fold in on myself. Bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

Take me with you, take me with you, take me with you.

“Hey, East. Talk to me. What’s wrong? I know I haven’t always been the best brother. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I’m here for you. I love you, and you can always come to me with anything.”

I want to, want to go to him, to Rhett, but I can’t. I don’t know how to let anyone in.

“I’m fine. Get the fuck out of here, Morg, while you still can.” At least one of us should get out, get away.

I stand and walk into the house.

“Easton!” Morgan calls after me, but I keep going, hear Rhett arrive, and the two of them start shouting at each other. I don’t hear the words, just the muffled anger, and know that they’ve disappeared into their anger, forgetting about me, like they always do.

*

Archer

Three years ago

I’ve always loved camping. We used to go a lot as a family when I was a kid. Sometimes my aunt and uncle went—we have a big, close family—but even when they didn’t, my cousin Travis would always join us. Along with Cass, he’d been my best friend, only with Travis, it had been since birth. His family had moved to Detroit when we were teenagers, but we’d stayed tight.

It had killed me when we lost him. Eighteen is too fucking young. But I like to come out here, camping, when I’m missing him because Trav loved it so much.

“Why are you so quiet, Archer Thorn?” Janice asks, looking up at me with wide doe eyes. There’s ten of us out here camping this weekend—me, Cass, friends, and friends of friends.

“I don’t really know,” I answer honestly. Maybe part of it is thinking about my cousin. It’s been fifteen years since he passed, and I still miss him.

“Well, if you need anyone to put you in a better mood, I’m available, is all I’m saying.” She gives me a flirty wink. I’ve always been turned on by people who go for what they want, and Janice is a beautiful woman, but for a reason I can’t really explain, I’m not in the mood tonight. There’s something restless inside me that’s not a real familiar feeling. I get it occasionally, usually when something ends up being wrong, but I’ve discreetly checked in with my family already, and everything seems fine there. But I can’t shake it tonight, which is keeping me from enjoying myself.

“Maybe another time.” I give her a smile.

“And it might just be too late by then,” she tosses back, earning a chuckle from me and almost making me change my mind. No-strings-attached sex would feel a whole lot better than the prickling feeling on the back of my neck, but ultimately, I still turn her down.

I try and have fun with everyone else. Cass’s daughter, Meadow, is with family tonight, and my broad-shouldered, ginger best friend is currently surrounded by people listening to him tell a story.

Everyone likes Tripp Cassidy. He’s a good man with a big heart and a firm sense of right and wrong. He’s the best kind of person to have in your corner because no one will have your back like Cass, but if you hurt someone he cares about…let’s just say you don’t want to be on his bad side.

I drink half a beer as night falls, everyone eating and laughing around the fire. When I can’t seem to stay still, I grab a flashlight and make my way over to Cass. “Hey, I’m gonna go for a walk.”

He frowns. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, just feeling restless.”

“I’ll go with you,” Cass says, but I shake my head. He’s enjoying himself, letting loose and having a night out. I don’t want to ruin it for him.

“Nah, I’m good. I won’t be long.” He nods, but I can tell he doesn’t like it very much. Cass is protective as shit, we both are—something else we have in common. “I have my phone on me. I’m not gonna get lost, Dad,” I tease. I know these woods too well for that anyway.

I sneak away from the group and down a trail through the trees. I’m not sure how far I walk, but it’s a pretty good distance away. I can’t hear my friends or see the light from their campsite. As I continue, I hear a voice in the distance…then something that sounds like crying.

My heartbeat picks up, my feet automatically moving faster. I’m not armed, since I’m not on duty, but I don’t let that stop me as I hurry toward the sound. My foot catches on something, but I keep going, the voice getting louder. It sounds like a man, the voice deep, but painfully broken, the anguish cutting into me like a knife.

There’s a light up ahead, a small fire, and as I approach, I see him.

Easton Swift.

He’s younger than me. I’m closer to his brothers’ ages, though I don’t know either of them well. I saw Morgan more when we were younger, but he moved. I’ve had more contact with Rhett in recent years, since I’m a patrol officer and he’s a lawyer. Still, everyone knows the Swifts, and the tattooed, blond man leaning his forehead against a tree stands out as the outsider, the troublemaker, in an otherwise seemingly perfect family.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I don’t move toward him, staying tucked away. This is a personal moment. I don’t want to invade his privacy, but on the other hand, I can’t leave him. There’s something so…lost about him.

“I can be sorry,” he says, which makes me frown. “It was my fault…I miss you so much.” His voice cracks, and he wilts to the ground, as if his knees have given in. Whom is he talking to? There’s no one around but me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he repeats over and over, and begins to wail. His fist pulls back, and Easton punches the tree.

My adrenaline spikes, body nothing but reaction as I lunge at him, wrapping my arms around him just as he’s about to punch the tree again.

Easton seems to be responding on instinct, bucking and kicking, trying to fight his way out of my hold.

“It’s me…Officer Thorn…Archer Thorn. I’m not going to hurt you.” I try to speak calmly, but I hear the panic in my voice. My heart is beating out of my chest, body tight as I try to keep hold of Easton.

“Get the fuck off me.” His elbow snaps back, landing in my gut.

“Fuck,” I grit out. That hurt. “If you calm down, I will. I’m not going to let you go if I’m not sure you won’t hurt yourself.”

We’re kicking up dirt beneath us, wrestling around, each trying to get the better of the other.

“I was hitting a goddamned tree. Who gives a shit about that?” He elbows me again, and I almost let go of him.

“Me,” I reply, and I don’t know what it is about that one simple, easy word, but Easton Swift goes still in my arms, stops fighting me, but I don’t let go right away. We’re both breathing heavily, me having worked my way on top of him. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and his eyes are red from a mixture of being drunk and crying.

“You don’t give a fuck about me.”

“Yes,” I reply. “I do.”

“You don’t even know me.” This time when he pushes me away, I let him. We collapse onto the ground, both of us on our backs, looking up at the starry sky.

He’s not wrong. Still… “That doesn’t mean I can’t care.” That’s not how I’m built. I’ve seen him around town since he was a kid. I remember when his sister died. My mom was the EMT that day. She came home and spent the whole night crying, talking about the Swifts and all they’d lost. About the little boy who’d tried to cling to her but didn’t speak. Just fought to be close to his sister to the point where they’d had to take him along.

Easton.

“My cousin,” I finally say.

“What?” he snaps, sounding full of anger but also exhaustion.

“I know it’s not the same, and I’m not trying to pretend I understand your loss. Your story is your own, and you’re the only one who knows how to live it, but I lost someone I loved too. He was my cousin and best friend.”

Easton doesn’t reply for what feels like an eternity. I wish I knew what he was thinking, what to say, what to do. He should have someone who loves him here with him tonight, someone who knows him better than I do, but since that’s not the case, I won’t walk away.

It has to be a good five minutes of silence between us before Easton asks, “How did he die?”

Guilt wells up in me. If there was any way not to tell him, I wouldn’t, but Easton needs to feel less alone, to focus on someone else’s pain rather than his own, and I don’t have it in me to walk away when someone is hurting like that.

“He was getting into trouble, and I didn’t know. Had fallen in with the wrong crowd. He’d started to pull away from me, and I didn’t try hard enough to figure out what was going on with him. I was eighteen and graduating from high school. I was too busy with girls and my own life.”

My eyes sting, and I brush them with the back of my hand before sitting up. I don’t move away from him, still in the middle of the dirt, while Easton rolls onto his side, looking at me.

“He called me…the night he died. I didn’t answer. Not on purpose. I was just doing my own thing, ya know? I saw the voicemail but didn’t listen until the next morning.” I pause, rub the ache in my chest, fight to push the words out for this man who is both a stranger and not. “He was so scared…said he was in a bad situation and wanted me to come get him, to help him out of it.” I swipe at the stray tear. “I called him back, frantic, afraid, but he didn’t answer. We found out later that day that the guys he was hanging around with had a beef with some other guys. They were going to rough them up, break into their place. Trav was scared…and when he tried to back down, they took him as the enemy too. He didn’t make it out alive.”

Easton is quiet for so long, I’m not sure if he even heard me speak, if he cares about what I said. Hell, maybe he fell asleep or passed out or fuck, I don’t know…

“It’s not your fault,” he says softly, without looking at me. He’s curled in a ball on the ground like a child, and I’m not sure my heart has ever gone out to someone more.

“It’s not yours either,” I reply, then hold my breath, waiting for the anger or some kind of explosion. Instead, it’s loud, aching sobs that break free.

“Hey…shh. You’re okay. I’m here.”

I touch him, and he doesn’t fight me, doesn’t yell or scream. He’s just crying, lost in himself, too tired to struggle.

I pull him closer, but he’s like deadweight. The best I can do is position him so his head is in my lap, my jeans getting wet from tears and snot, but I don’t care. I just sit with him, stroke his head, run my fingers through his hair. Tell him he’s not alone, that I’m right here. That I’m not going anywhere.

Easton Swift falls asleep crying, with his head in my lap. It’s a struggle, but I manage to work my cell out of my pocket without waking him.

Me: Hey…just wanted to let you know I won’t be back at the campsite tonight.

Cass: What do you mean you won’t be back? Is everything all right?

Me: Yeah, it’s fine. I ran into a friend. I can’t really say. It’s personal, but I’m good. I need you to trust me.

Cass: I don’t like this, but I trust you. You let me know if you need anything, okay?

Me: Thanks, Cass.

I set the phone down, touch his hair, see the hard set of his mouth, even in his sleep. Easton’s restless all night, whimpering, whispering, and apologizing to someone who isn’t there.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I ask quietly, brushing my fingertips against his temple. I’ve never been so curious about someone in my whole life, never wanted to find whatever it is that plagued them, and help fix it, the way I do right now.

I sit there, legs cramping, uncomfortable, but I’m watching him all damn night.

As the sun is rising, my eyes flutter closed, and I feel him tense, immediately sitting up and scrambling away from me, on his ass and using his hands and legs to do it.

“It’s me. Archer Thorn. You fell asleep last night. I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Stay the fuck away from me.” Easton shoves to his feet, so I stand too.

“Well, that’s not what a guy hopes to hear after spending the night with someone.”

I mean it as a joke, hoping to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t laugh. He just…cocks his head, studies me, and somehow, I know the night is coming back to him: how I found him, what I said to him, how I held him.

“This is between us, Easton. I won’t be spreading your business around. I was thinking maybe we could go back to town together…get some breakfast.”

“I’m not your charity case.” He goes to his tent and begins shoving his things into a bag.

“I know that. It’s not what I’m doing.” But in some ways, it kinda is. Not in a bad way, but he’s right.

“Leave me alone. Stay away from me.” He grabs his bag, leaves his tent, and walks away.

I’m not sure if it’s the best decision, but I don’t go after him. Instead, I pack up the rest of his things, make sure the fire is out, and head back to camp.

When we get back home, it takes me no time at all to realize that last night was the anniversary of Ella’s drowning. That’s why Easton was out there alone. Where the fuck was his family? Why weren’t they with him or making sure he was okay?

The next day I drop his stuff off on the porch of his house…and a few months later, when we get a call that Easton is drunk and throwing a fit at a bar, I head down to get him. I’m the second officer on scene. He’s out of control, but for whatever reason, he calms down when I arrive.

“I got it from here. I’ll take him home to sleep it off,” I tell the other officer.

“You sure that’s a good idea, Thorn?”

“It’s all good. I got him.”

Easton doesn’t argue, lets me lead him to my patrol vehicle, lets me take him home.

The second time it happens, he’s not drunk, but he’s always getting into trouble for one thing or another—fighting, disorderly conduct. Still, he goes with me when he won’t go with anyone else. When we arrive at his place, I get out and open the back door for him.

“Why don’t you arrest me?”

“Do you want me to arrest you?”

“Do you want to fuck me? Is that what this is?”

“Jesus, Easton.” I run a hand through my hair, unsure how to respond. I’m bi, but not many people know that. I have no idea if he’s queer or not, but sex has nothing to do with this. He’s a beautiful man, but… “I’m not trying to get into your pants.”

“Mr. Fucking Perfect,” he says, then slams the door and heads to his house.

We keep going like that all year. We don’t talk, not really, but he always asks me why I’m there, why I give a fuck, and the truth is, I don’t have the answer to that yet.

There are times I’m not on shift, but it’s gotten so…routine, that when he’s at the bar, they’ll just call me instead of the department, otherwise he’d get arrested.

And I always go.

I don’t know why other than I feel like something happened between us that night. I saw him broken down in a way I’m not sure anyone else has…and he let me in. I don’t ever want him to be in a situation where he’s that low and he’s alone.

On the next anniversary of Ella’s death, I go back to the campsite, and Easton is there.

I let him cry, yell, whatever he needs, and when he wears himself down, he lets me hold him until he falls asleep.

The whole next year is more of the same. I’m the friend he won’t allow himself to believe he has, the person he finds a way to go to, though neither of us understands it. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person Easton Swift has, and we hardly even have real conversations.

And I know he’s always waiting for that moment where I give up on him, where I don’t show up when he needs me, because he doesn’t believe he’s worth it.

But that moment won’t come—somehow, I know he is worth it.

CHAPTER ONE

Easton

Present day

I hate having to call Morgan and tell him I’ve been arrested. He just came back to Birchbark this summer because our dad had a stroke. He has enough on his plate dealing with a father who wants to control him and Rhett, but who wants nothing to do with me. And Morgan’s complicated relationship with Rhett isn’t much easier. Morgan’s finally starting to be happy—has admitted his feelings for his best friend, Dusty, whom he’s probably been in love with since before I was born, and they’re together.

The last thing he needs to deal with is me.

I’m the last thing anyone should have to deal with.

Still, I call because it’s not me I need him to take care of. It’s my dog, Pretty Girl.

“Hello?” Morgan answers, voice rough with sleep.

“I got arrested. I’m fine. I just need you to go take care of Pretty Girl in the morning. She’s gonna need out, and I don’t want her to be alone.”

“What about you?” Morgan asks. Since he’s been gone for ten years, he’s not tired of me yet. There’s no doubt in my mind that he will be at some point.

“Who cares? Take care of my dog, Morgan. I’m counting on you. I…” Don’t ask for things often…need to make sure she’s okay…don’t know how to reach out. I’m doing my best here.

Fortunately, Morgan doesn’t make me find words—something that’s not always easy for me to do. “We’ll make sure she’s taken care of, but I’m not just hanging you out to dry. What happened?”

Does it really matter? I’m always in the wrong, even when I’m not. But then, whose fault is it but mine? Yeah, the motherfucker I beat deserved it, but I could have found a better way to deal with it. My impulsivity is all on me. “Me.” I sigh. I happened. I always happen.

“I’ll call Archer,” I hear Dusty say in the background.

My heart rate spikes. I can’t figure out how Archer Thorn hasn’t gotten sick of me yet, why in the hell he wastes his time with me at all, other than him thinking it’s his job to fix the world. He thinks he let his cousin die when it wasn’t his fault, and now he’s trying to save me.

Why do I let him try?

Because it’s easier this way. Eventually, he’ll realize I’m not worth it and leave me alone.

I hate it when you talk about yourself like that, Ella says in my head, but I ignore her. I can’t handle talking to her right now.

“Fuck. I’m not even in Birchbark. I’m in Lilington. Just take care of Pretty Girl,” I tell them. “Promise me.”

“Yeah, of course we will.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Gotta go.” I end the call before my time is even up. “I’m done,” I tell the officer, who takes me back to my cell. My face fucking hurts, my swollen eye throbbing the worst. Maybe I should have let them bring a doctor to check me out.

Of course you should have.

I can’t do this right now, El.

I try and close my eyes, but my head aches too much for me to sleep. I’m not sure how much time has passed before I hear, “Get up, Swift.”

“No.” If he wants me up, someone is here. I should have known not to call Morgan, should have known to just leave it alone, but then what would I have done about Pretty Girl? She shouldn’t have to suffer because of my issues.

Archer. You could have called Archer.

But I’ve never been the one to call him. He doesn’t even know Pretty Girl. At least Morgan does.

“Your family got up in the middle of the night to try and help you. The least you can do is show some appreciation.”

He’s right, of course he is, so I stand up, ignoring the pain in my face. The officer handcuffs me, then leads me to a small room.

The second I walk in, the first person I see is my dad. I don’t even know why I call him that. He’s not a father to me. He doesn’t want me. Never has. Immediately, I feel myself shrinking.

“Jesus Christ. Has he seen a doctor?” Morgan snaps.

“He refused,” the officer replies.

“I don’t give a fuck if he refused. He’s seeing a doctor,” Morgan argues, voice sounding like he’s barely hanging on.

The officer walks me over and seats me.

Why? Why does it sound like Morgan cares?

Because he does, El tells me.

“Yes. He is,” Rhett orders, and he’s like my dad in that when he says something, people listen. I don’t have to look at the officer to know he’s going to make it happen, and all that does is piss me off. I didn’t need this.

The door shuts behind me, and I know the officer left.

I turn to my middle brother. “Fuck you, Morgan. I asked for your help with Pretty Girl, not this.” I’m so tired of them trying to fix me, to make me into exactly what they want me to be so I don’t make them look bad.

“I called Rhett. I didn’t know he was at Dad’s.” Morgan kneels in front of me. When he reaches out and tries to touch my face, I pull away. “Christ, East. What happened?”

“Are you going to see my dog tomorrow?”

“Yes. And if we can’t make it, Cass will. We’ll take care of her. I promise. Right now, I’m more worried about you.”

I’m not worth it. One day you’ll see.

Yes, you are.

Stop it, Ella.

“What happened?” Rhett asks, his tone making it clear he thinks it’s my fault. It makes my skin feel too tight.

“I attacked someone. That’s what they told you, right?” It doesn’t matter what I say. It never does.

Dusty says, “We’re not asking what they told us. We’re asking you what happened because we trust and believe in you.” And he does. I don’t get why, but Dusty loves all of us. He’s been put through a lot because of it, and the last thing I want is to make that worse. The sooner he realizes I’m beyond help, the better, so I don’t reply.

Rhett tries again. “Easton, you have to give me something to work with here. Tell me what happened.”

Ah, because he’s going to be my lawyer. Of course he is. Gotta try and fix this for Dad.

“Him,” our father interrupts my thoughts. “He’s what happened. He always happens.”

He’s right, I do. I hate him, but he sees me for who I am.

I don’t reply, wish I could keep getting smaller and smaller until I disappear.

“Dad…” Morgan says, but I can’t make myself look at him, look at any of them.

Don’t listen to him, East.

He’s right, El.

No, he’s not.

“Not…babying him…anymore. He’s a disgrace,” Dad spits out, his words coming out slower because of the stroke.

“Dad!” Rhett warns.

“He’ll ruin us, ruin you. You’re running for mayor. Distance yourself from him. He’s not a Swift.”

He’s right, he’s right, he’s right.

Morgan pushes to his feet, yelling at Dad, who tries to get him to quiet down. Dusty holds Morgan back as he sticks up for me, tries to kick our dad out, but I don’t deserve that. Why is he doing that?

When Dad speaks again, it’s directed at me. I feel the hate, so I look at him, see it too. He’s not even trying to hide it from Morgan, Rhett, and Dusty.

“She wanted you…gave her life for you…and this…is how you thank her?” He’s talking about Mom. She wanted her girl, wanted a daughter so much, but she got two of us—me and Ella. A few days after she had us, she had a postpartum hemorrhage and didn’t make it. Nine years later, we lost Ella. “You weren’t worth it. Wish it had been you…not Ella.”

Me too.

And none of them even know the truth. If they did, knew I told Ella where to hide, then Morgan and Rhett would hate me too.

No, East. Don’t listen to him, Ella says.

Morgan lunges at Dad. Dusty tries to hold him back, but then…then the last thing I expect to happen does.

“That. Is. Enough!” Rhett grabs Dad. Rhett, who has never done anything to anger our father. Rhett, whose dream is to be just like him. “My whole fucking life I’ve tried with you, tried to be who you want, and I’m fucking done. Don’t ever talk to my brother that way again.”

My brother. I try to soak in the words, the name I don’t deserve, a thank-you on my tongue that I can’t work through how to say.

They continue to argue around me, but I can’t look at them, can’t talk to them, just stare down, studying my bruised and battered hands as they kick Gregory Swift out of the room.

I turn to them, waiting to see the regret, trying to figure out why they’re here and why they did that.

“What happened tonight, East?” Rhett asks.

When I don’t reply, Morgan adds, “I know you. If you attacked that man, there’s a reason. Don’t sacrifice yourself because you don’t think you deserve it.”

I don’t, I don’t, I don’t.

A knock sounds from the door, and a heavy breath whooshes from my lungs. I don’t know how I know it’s him, why that feels better, like some of the pressure eases off me. That’s a dangerous way to think. I can’t get used to that, used to him. Why the fuck hasn’t he given up already?

“Thank fuck,” Dusty says as he lets Archer inside.

“I had to pull some strings to get in here.” He comes over to me and touches my face, the slightly rough pad of his finger brushing against my chin as he studies my injuries.

I pull away. “Why are you here? Why are any of you here?”

“Give me a minute with him,” Archer tells them. It takes a moment, but I’m surprised they listen to him, surprised I don’t argue. When we’re alone, he says, “I hope the other guy is worse. You’re a mess.”

“Fuck off.” But I actually almost smile.

“Tell me what happened.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, and you know me. I’m not leaving this room until you talk.”

“Jesus. Why are you so fucking obsessed with me?” I ask, and for the second time, Archer reaches out and touches my face.

This time, I don’t pull away. Why don’t I pull away? Why do I want to nuzzle in closer? It’s not him specifically, but just…to be closer to someone, to feel something soft, when everything in my life is always so hard.

“Talk to me. If you don’t, I’ll find out another way what happened. Make it a little easier on me, yeah?”

He brushes his finger against my cheek, my gaze holding firm on his.

I really think you can trust him, East.

Doesn’t she get that I can’t? That I’ve never completely trusted anyone in my life but her?

But I don’t want to make this harder on Archer. He’s right. I know him. He’s determined, and he’ll work himself to death trying to help me. The least I can do is make it a little easier on him.

“There was this fucking asshole there. I saw him through the window…he backhanded his girl in the parking lot. She left. He came back in, and I showed him what it feels like to be hit.”

“Jesus, Easton. So quietly fucking noble. Why wouldn’t you tell them that?”

I shrug and look away. He sighs.

On the back wall there’s a first aid kit. Archer grabs it, then starts cleaning the cut on my face.

“I’m not.”

“Not what?”

“What you said,” I reply.

His dark brows draw together, brown eyes studying me, like he has no idea what I’m talking about. His hair falls slightly into his face, over his forehead, and he just watches me through the strands.

I roll my eyes. “Noble.”

“Okay,” he replies simply, then keeps cleaning.

“I’m serious.”

“I said okay.”

“Yeah, but that was to placate me. You don’t agree with me.”

He winks. Fucking winks, whatever the hell that means. “I think you just want me to keep giving you compliments.”

I jerk back. “God no. I hate that.” I never know how to react on the rare occasion someone gives me a compliment—well, unless it’s about my looks.

“I think that’s a shame.”

I don’t move as he finishes with my face, then moves on to my hands. I’m not sure why I don’t stop him, but Archer always makes me do stuff I don’t expect.

When he finishes, he puts the kit away, then pulls out his phone. “Give me everything you can on the asshole…the woman, the vehicle. Where were you?”

I tell him the bar, what they both looked like, the make and model of his vehicle. “I have the license plate too.”

“No shit?” He cocks a brow and looks…proud? It makes my pulse throb, but I try to ignore it, push down anything that doesn’t feel bad.

“It’s nothing. He hit a woman, and I’m not an idiot. It made sense to memorize it.” I recite it for Archer.

“Okay. That’s good. Can I tell your brothers what you told me?”

I nod, silently thankful he asked. That he didn’t assume and gave me a choice. “I don’t…I can’t…I don’t want to see them tonight, though.”

He stares at me for a moment, an expression I can’t read, then says, “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait,” jumps out of my mouth, and before I can stop the words, I ask, “Why? Why do you do this for me? All of it.”

He sighs, hand on the knob, but turns to look at me.

“Never mind. I have no idea why I asked that. You’re Mr. Fucking Perfect. You want to fix everything for everyone.”

Sometimes words spill from my mouth, and I hate myself for saying them, but I still do it. It’s like I don’t have control over all the anger living inside me.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t agree about being perfect, but I am a fixer. I like to help people, but this…what I do with you? It’s not the same.”

I shift, unsure how to feel or what to think about that.

Oh God. He’s so sweet! Ella croons.

Too sweet for me. Stop it, Ella.

I shouldn’t ask. I don’t want to ask, but I can’t stop myself. “Then why?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet. Just…feels right.”

He doesn’t expand, and I don’t ask him to. Archer Thorn slips out of the room, somehow gets my brothers to leave, then comes back in, not leaving me alone.

CHAPTER TWO

Archer

“Hey, pretty lady. How are you today?” I ask Meadow when she comes out to the backyard, where I’m sitting with Cass.

“Hi, Uncle Archer.”

“You make that?” I point to the dress she’s wearing. Cass got her a sewing machine a while back because Meadow likes to make clothes. She has all these plans to move to New York after high school and be a fashion designer. She’s only twelve, but I don’t doubt it will happen. When she sets her mind to something, there’s nothing she can’t do. She’s the bravest, strongest person I know.

“Yep. I’m not sure I like it, though.”

“It’s great,” I reply, then for some reason, remember earlier this summer when the three of us went out for dinner and saw Easton with Dusty. I’d never seen Easton interact with Meadow before, never seen him interact with any kid, and he told her he liked her dress. It was the perfect thing to say and probably endeared him to her for life.

“Thank you. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi. Dad, don’t forget I have dance after dinner.”

Cass playfully rolls his eyes. “When have I ever forgotten dance class?”

She chuckles and heads inside.

There was never a doubt in my mind that Cass would make a good father. He adores his daughter and had adored his ex-wife, April, too. And when Meadow came out as trans, he’d been incredible about that too. I just hadn’t ever expected him to have to do it alone, but then, I guess you never know what will happen.

Like all the shit Easton’s been through. Jesus, it doesn’t seem fair sometimes. We’d gotten everything figured out about his last brush with the law, which was about a month ago. After leaving him in the room, I told his brothers and Dusty what happened and sent them on their way. They weren’t too happy about that, but Easton had asked not to see them, so I damn sure was going to make that happen. He hadn’t asked not to see me, so I stayed a little longer, until he was taken back to his cell.

He’d stayed in jail for three days. Once we’d gotten ahold of the woman who had been hit by her boyfriend, she’d admitted what the man had done to her, but hadn’t wanted to press charges. She was moving out of state and just wanted to be done with it, but the guy hadn’t known that was the situation. In what he thought was an exchange for not going to jail, he’d agreed not to press charges against East. Was that the best way the situation could have gone down? No, but if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that best-case scenario rarely ever happens.

“Why you so quiet over there?” Cass asks.

“Just thinking.” I do too damn much thinking about Easton Swift, and I’m still trying to figure out why. I hadn’t been lying when I told him that yes, part of this is just who I am, but it feels more real with him. More important. I can’t say what in the hell that means or how I feel about it. I just can’t seem to stop myself.

“You planning on telling me what you’re thinking about, or am I supposed to guess?” Cass teases.

It’s tricky when it comes to East, though. No one knows about the nights we’ve spent at the campground, not even Cass. It’s part of the reason Cass thinks I’m into Easton, or that something is secretly going on with us—because the way I am with him doesn’t make sense. But I would never share those moments with anyone. They’re East’s, something he didn’t mean to share with me, but now he does, and that means a lot to me.

“I need to get laid,” I lie. Well, it’s not a lie. Not really. I haven’t been with anyone in too damn long, but that’s not what I was thinking about.

“I hear you, brother. Too bad we don’t see each other like that. Would make life a whole lot easier.”

I chuckle. He’s right. It really would, but though we’re both bi, it’s never been like that, not even just a friends-with-benefits thing. I hooked up with Dusty a few times before Morgan came back, but clearly, that is never happening again.

“I don’t think that’s what you were thinking about, though,” Cass adds, and I don’t bother arguing.

The thing is, I haven’t seen Easton since he got out of jail, and that makes me feel restless. “I heard Dusty and Morgan just got back from California,” I say, trying to change the subject.

They’d gone so Morgan could pack up the rest of his things and tie up loose ends before moving home to Birchbark to be with Dusty. After that night with East, something seemed to happen in their family, but I don’t have all the details. Rhett Swift had suddenly dropped out of the race for mayor and left his job as a lawyer.

“I hope it works out for them,” Cass says. “Dusty is crazy about him.”

He is. Cass is right about that. We weren’t close with them when Morgan left before, so I don’t know a whole lot about what happened then, but Morgan seems to be just as into Dusty as Dusty is him. “Me too.”

I look over at my friend. He’s the type of man who always wanted to settle down. Wanted that person he woke up with every morning and went to bed with every night. He’d thought he’d found that in April, but then she up and left them, with nothing more than a note. It has been years now, and Cass hasn’t dated anyone seriously since. He’s more jaded now, and I hate that for him.

We hang out for a little while longer before it’s time for them to get ready for Meadow’s dance lesson, and then I leave.

Instead of going home, though, I find myself heading to my parents’ place. We’re all Birchbark born and raised—my dad’s brother, Travis’s father, being the only one who left. I used to wonder what it was like to live somewhere other than the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, but the older I get, the more I realize this is where I belong.

I park in front of the home I grew up in, jog up the stairs, and knock on the door. Mom opens the door, a large smile spreading across her face when she sees me.

“Hey, Arch. This is a nice surprise.” She gives me a hug and a kiss like always. With my mom being an EMT and my dad being a firefighter, they’ve both seen some tragic things in their lives. Both my parents have always been the type to tell us they love us every time we say goodbye, to hug and kiss often because you never know what life will throw at you.

My sister, Cora, is a firefighter too, and I always thought I’d be an EMT like Mom, until we lost Travis. That’s when I decided I wanted to be a police officer. I had this silly idea that I could make a difference, but so far, I’m not sure that’s the case.

“Hey, Mom. Is Dad home?”

“Nope. He’s at work. Did you come to see him?” We head into the living room and sit on the couch.

“Nah, I came to see whoever’s here.” Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. Not that it’s odd for me to stop in.

“You okay?” she asks, brows creased in concern. Cora looks just like her, honey-colored hair and brown eyes. I have darker hair like our dad.

“I’m good. How are things going with you guys?”

We chat about work, Cora, her wife, Simone, and Dad. When there’s a lull in conversation, I find myself saying, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course. You can always ask me anything.”

I rub a hand over my head, wondering why I’m asking this, what I expect to learn from it, and knowing she’s going to want to know why. The thing is, it’s come up in conversation before. It’s not like she has anything different to share. “You were there that day…with Ella Swift.”

She frowns like that’s the last thing she expected me to say, and I can understand why.

“I was. One of the most heartbreaking calls I’ve ever been to.”

“Was it just Easton and Morgan there with her?”

“Yeah. Rhett was doing something for college, and who the hell knows what Gregory was doing. Nobody likes to talk about it, everyone pretending he’s some kind of Birchbark royalty, but something’s off about that man. He was never there with those kids. When Allison died, he hired help, but it was often Morgan and Rhett running the household.”

“They were only like nine and ten when their mom died and the twins were born, weren’t they?” My chest gets tight as I think about them losing their mom and not having their dad around, trying to navigate all those emotions and having hired strangers there to help.

“They were. Those boys practically raised the twins. Then poor Ella… Morgan kept blaming himself, Easton clung to her. Easton didn’t talk for a few months afterward. Just always seemed lost in himself.”

I nod, knowing he’s still very much the same. Easton talks, but I notice him spacing out sometimes, like he’s not even in the same world, and then there was the time I caught him talking to himself.

“Anyway…I don’t like to think about that day.”

“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Reaching over, I take her hand. Smooth move, Archer. Bring back some of her worst memories because you’re obsessed with Easton.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Why do you ask?”

I sigh, leaning my head back against the couch. “I don’t really know.” Which isn’t a lie, but it’s not the full truth either. “I’m sure you’ve heard I’m getting a bit of a name around town for helping him out.”

“Of course. And that should surprise no one. That’s the kind of man you are. You’re always looking out for others.”

“Don’t make me blush.” I nudge her with my arm.

“Is there something going on with you two?”

“No,” I rush out. I don’t even know if he’s queer, but outside of that, as attractive as I think East is, none of this is about sex. I would never want him to think I was only doing this to get a fuck out of him. “I just…I’m trying to understand him better, is all.” Because I want to make sure I do this right, want to make sure I’m there for him in the best way I can be. Somehow, it feels like one of the most important things I’ve done in my life.

“Well, you can always ask him about himself, ya know?”

“Shit, why didn’t I ever think of that?” It’s not like Easton Swift is the most forthcoming person. “Ignore me,” I tell her.

“Have I told you that every day you make me proud of the man you are? Of that big heart in your chest?”

“Mom…I’m not even doing anything special.”

“Everything you do is special. And I’m only partly saying that because I’m your mom.”

We laugh together, and I can’t help feeling so damn lucky that I have this…and wish Easton had grown up with the same.

CHAPTER THREE

Easton

I’m sitting outside Dusty’s Collision Repair on my lunch break when my cell rings. This is another thing Dusty has done for our family. He gave me a job and has put up with my shit.

My cell rings again. “Hello?”

“Is this Easton?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Hi. This is Bailey from Birchbark County Animal Shelter. We have a dog that’s been through some trauma. It was a rough go for a while, but he’s much better now. The problem is, if we can’t get him adopted within three days…well…”

Bailey doesn’t need to finish for me to know what will happen to him. It’s why she’s calling me.

“I know this isn’t typical, but you helped out with Pretty Girl and…hell, I just…don’t want him to be put down. He’s got—”

“I’ll take him,” I cut her off.

“Don’t you want to know anything about him first?”

“No. I’ll be down this afternoon.” It’s not that simple, of course. I’ll have to bring Pretty Girl with me to make sure they get along, and then I’ll need to fill out all the paperwork, but I damn sure am going to get that dog. I’ll steal him if I have to.

“Thank you, Easton. I had a feeling you would say that. He’ll be a good dog for you. I know it.”

I end the call because really, there’s not much else that needs to be said, before standing and going into the shop. Dusty recently got back to work after his trip to California. The whole time he was gone, I’ve been scared out of my mind that I would fuck up his business, that he would come home and discover I’d run it into the ground or set it on fire or who the fuck knows what I’m capable of. Fortunately, I got lucky and none of that happened.

“We’re getting a towed vehicle in later today,” Dusty tells me.

“Okay.” I nod. “I was going to see if I could get off early…just like an hour or so. I have something I need to do.”

I should just tell him. Everything doesn’t have to be top secret fucking information, but for some reason, with me, it does.

“It’s important,” I add. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.” I’ve fucked up a lot in this job with Dusty—been late too many times to count, had days I didn’t show up or call in and other times I called out. I started trying to be better before Morgan came back, but even more since then, and especially since Dusty thought he was going to move to California with my brother and wanted me to run his shop, I’ve been trying even harder. In some ways, Dusty has been there for me more than anyone.

Archer too, Ella reminds me.

I grin. Not now, brat.

Who knew dead sisters could try and be matchmakers? Ignoring the fact that she’s all in my head, which means…a part of me is trying to matchmake myself. I file that information away in the ignore folder in my brain.

“East?”

Fuck. I must have zoned out again. “It’s important, Dusty,” I reiterate.

“Okay. That’s fine. I believe you. Plus, you watched the shop while I was gone. I figure I can let you get off early to do whatever mysterious shit it is you’re doing.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not mysterious.” Then why oh why don’t I tell him? “How’s Morgan? Still stupid in love with you?” I tease.

“Same as he was this morning when you asked me that, brat.”

My thoughts stumble over hearing him call me the same thing I’d just called Ella. It makes me feel close to her, which is ridiculous. I don’t understand the things that go on in my head sometimes, but at nearly twenty-eight, I’m not sure I can change them now.

“I’m gonna get back to work early,” I say.

“You can finish lunch.”

I ignore him, which makes me seem like a dick, but we both know I’m not going to do what he said. It’s easier if he thinks it’s just me being difficult like I always am than him knowing it’s because I feel bad leaving early and want to make it up to him.

I work hard to get as much done as I can. When Dusty offered to hire me, it was because he wanted to keep an eye on me, and he knew that most other people in Birchbark were tired of dealing with my shit. The thing is, I’ve somehow fallen in love with auto body work. I’ve always been good with my hands—and not as smart as Morgan, Rhett, or Gregory. I can’t think of him as the D word anymore, not since that night at the jail. I’d already been keeping my distance from him, but now that I’m not a Swift according to him, I figure it’s time to turn off whatever quiet hope I might have had. The hardest part, though, is I feel bad for Rhett. He’s always looked up to Gregory—actually, I’m not sure that’s what it is. Sometimes I wonder if Rhett is more lost than even me, needing to prove himself to a man I can’t say he ever even liked. He wanted to, wanted so hard to believe Gregory was someone he wasn’t, and I don’t understand why. Now Rhett’s barely talking to any of us, has quit his job, stopped running for mayor, and who the fuck knows what he’s doing with his life. I never thought there would be a world where I would be employed and Rhett wouldn’t.

Dusty is painting, and I sneak in to tell him goodbye, then head home for Pretty Girl. The second I walk in the door, she’s all over me, licking and jumping. I should probably teach her some manners, but I like her excitement, her joy for life. She and I have both been through a lot, but she knows how to be thankful she’s still around, and I haven’t mastered that yet. All I know is Pretty Girl is a party of one when it comes to people who are always happy to see me, who love me unconditionally and don’t look at me like I’m broken. And I know I am, but she either doesn’t see it or doesn’t care.

“I think we’ll get you a brother today. Would you like that?” I ask her as she slips and falls, which is due to an old leg injury. One leg is a little shorter than the other three and sometimes gives out, but she’s not in pain. I make sure of that every time I take her to the vet. Like always, she gets up again and gives me loves.

I grab the leash but don’t put it on her yet, then take her out to go potty. Once she’s done, I strap her into her dog seat belt so she’s safe while we drive to the animal shelter.

“They didn’t tell me much about him, but I’m sure he’s a good boy,” I tell her. “We’re gonna save him. He’s gonna need his big sister to show him the ropes.” I don’t even know if Pretty Girl is older than him, but to me, she’ll be his big sister.

She leans in and licks my face, which makes me smile.

I continue talking to her like she’s a damn person the whole way to the shelter. Animals and my dead sister are the only ones with whom I feel comfortable speaking freely.

When we get out of the vehicle at the shelter, I let Pretty Girl pee again before we go inside.

“Hey, Easton. I haven’t seen you in a while,” the guy at the counter says. I can’t remember his name, but I’ve seen him off and on when I come in to volunteer.

“Yep,” I reply, then tell him I’m here to see Bailey. That she has a dog for me.

They put me in a room where they take people to spend time with the dogs. Pretty Girl stays close to my side, and when I sit on the chair, she tries to jump into my lap.

“Hey…it’s okay. I’m not leaving you here. You don’t ever have to stay in this place again.” I nuzzle into her neck, pet her, make sure she knows she’s loved.

A few minutes later, Bailey, this really pretty woman with box braids, opens the door. “Can we come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” I slide onto the floor, hugging Pretty Girl close, watching as Bailey brings in a black dog with a white spot on his chest. He’s skinny, too fucking skinny. He looks like he has some Lab in him, but I’m not sure what else. He’s beat up, similarly to how Pretty Girl was, and one of his eyes is closed in a way that doesn’t look like it opens.

“He had some trauma to his left eye and lost it. It couldn’t be saved. Sometimes he has some equilibrium issues, still adjusting to seeing out of one eye, but he’s doing well, aren’t you?” She gives him loves.

He’s shaking, standing beside her on the leash like he’s not sure what to do.

“It’s okay…we’re friends.” I keep my voice low and soft so I don’t scare him. “We’re hoping to take you home with us.”

I hold my hand out, but he still doesn’t seem to know what to do. And then…then Pretty Girl takes slow, measured steps his way. Their noses touch tentatively before they start smelling each other. They do that for what feels like an eternity before I realize Pretty Girl is backing up, taking small steps until she’s beside me again and the pup is right in front of me.

She lays her head on my lap, and somehow, I know she’s telling him it’s okay. That I’m going to take care of them. My eyes begin to sting, and I want to wipe the tears before they fall, but I also don’t want to make any sharp movements and scare him.

“I won’t hurt you,” I tell him softly, and then…damned if he doesn’t lie down too, his head next to Pretty Girl’s on my lap. He’s still shaking, still scared, but he’s trusting her that it will be okay.

Slowly, I ease my hand out and pet him.

“I want him,” I tell Bailey, without looking up at her.

“I knew you would. And somehow, I knew he would want you too.”

I spend a good hour in the room with the dogs. Bailey leaves me alone with them, and I talk to them, pet them, and get the new dog used to us.

I fill out the paperwork, and now that they know he and Pretty Girl will be okay together, that means I can bring him home today.

Once everything is done, I’m walking down the hall with both dogs on leash, when I notice a guy at the counter. He has his back to me, but I know instantly who the long, lean man with black hair is. Archer Thorn. And beside him is Meadow Cassidy.

“There was a black dog here earlier,” Archer says. “I want to inquire about adopting him.”

I freeze, trying to make sense of what I hear. Archer is there, and he wants to adopt my dog.

The desk guy chuckles. “Happens to the best of us. Come in to volunteer, want to leave with a dog.”

Archer nods. “Yeah, I can’t say that was part of the plan today. But this little lady and I fell in love with him.”

“Uncle Archer fell in love first. He would be my uncle’s dog, but I can see him all the time,” Meadow says while I stand there, rooted to the floor. I can’t say why this is so shocking to me. I’ve never seen Archer here before, though. I’ve been doing a good job avoiding him since he got me out of jail, and now he’s here, with Meadow, trying to adopt my dog.

Tell him hi, silly, Ella nudges me.

He’s got his niece with him.

So?

What if he doesn’t want me around her because of the shit I do? Or what if Cass doesn’t?

“Unfortunately, he was just adopted. Oh, look. There he is behind you.”

Do I have time to run? I probably would if Meadow wasn’t there, but she and Archer turn around to look at me, his eyes going wide when he sees it’s me.

“Mr. Easton!” Meadow exclaims. “You have two dogs? I don’t have any. Dad’s not sure about the dog thing yet, but Uncle Archer was going to get him.” She walks over, Archer beside her. “Can I pet them?”

I nod. “Pretty Girl for sure. He might be a little nervous, though.”

“He let me pet him earlier, but I’ll be careful.” She kneels, and Pretty Girl immediately goes to her. It takes a moment, but after he sees how Meadow is petting Pretty Girl, and that it’s okay, he eases her way too.

“You adopted my dog.” Archer crosses his arms, but there’s a smirk on his face. He’s…too fucking sexy. I try not to think about it most of the time—his full lips and square jawline; the way his dark hair hangs over his forehead, his eyes either full of mischief or heart. Not the love kind, just the one that says he’s a good guy who cares about everyone.

My initial reaction is to tell him to fuck off, that the pup is mine, but I wouldn’t say that in front of Meadow, and I know Archer is teasing me. Instead, I find myself cocking my head, looking at him while trying to make sense of this. “You wanted him? Even the way he is?”

“He deserves love too. Hell, I probably wanted him because of the way he is. I hadn’t planned on getting a dog, and it shouldn’t be a spur-of-the-moment decision, but there’s something about him. I didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

My stomach twists up. What he said, that’s a good thing, and I shouldn’t be surprised, not with Archer, this man who saw me losing my shit in the woods and held me all night…and then again the following year… But it’s a struggle to trust the good in people, to believe it can be real. “Mr. Perfect,” I say, trying not to show my conflicting emotions.

“I mean, I’m not going to argue with that.” He winks.

“Why did you volunteer here?” The question had been teasing the edges of my thoughts. “I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve never seen you here.” Is this another of his save-Easton ideas? Or is he trying to find a way to get close to me for… Actually, I have no idea why he does that other than he thinks I need it, need him.

“You volunteer here?” The way his forehead wrinkles up, I can tell his question is genuine. He really didn’t know, so this isn’t part of his weird plan to fix me.

“Never mind.”

“It doesn’t surprise me,” he replies. “But Meadow likes animals too, and I thought it would be a good lesson for her, learning to volunteer and things like that. I told Cass I would bring her.”

He does stuff like that with her. I’ve seen them together before. It’s so strange to me, something I don’t understand, which makes the truth come out. “My dad never wanted to spend time with us, especially me.” But Archer wants to, with her. This girl who isn’t even really related to him.

The second I realize what I said, my mouth clamps closed, jaw tight. Why the fuck did I give him that? Give him that piece of me, and then…my gaze darts down, but Meadow is in her own little world with the dogs, not paying us any attention.

“Hey.” Like he’s done before, Archer reaches over and takes hold of my chin. “Your dad is a fucking bastard. That says more about him than it will ever say about you. You deserve better.”

Archer got the part about Gregory right, just not the one about me. I pull out of his hold. “I gotta go. I’m taking the dogs to the park before I go home.” I hate taking them away from Meadow, and her from the dogs. I’m sure they would much rather play with a kid than be with me.

“Can we go too?” she asks. “Would you mind, Mr. Easton? Dad is working late, so I’m hanging out with my uncle tonight.”

Say no, say no, say no.

Meadow looks up at me and smiles.

Say yes, my sister tells me.

I’m sure Tripp doesn’t want his daughter around me.

Then there’s something wrong with him. You’re the best guy there is.

You don’t know many guys, I reply.

“As long as you don’t call me Mr. Easton.”

She stands.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird.”

Archer laughs. “You can call him Easton. Your dad won’t care since that’s what he wants to be called.” He puts his arm around her, and for some reason it’s hard not to watch him with her.

When he glances at me, I turn away.

“What park are we going to?” he asks.

I give him the name.

“We’ll meet you there.”

I nod, then stand there with my two dogs as Archer and Meadow head to his truck. This is different from the other times I’ve been with him. Those were all because he stalked me in the woods or bailed me out of trouble.

Part of me wants to go home, to get out of here and never talk to Archer again. He doesn’t treat me the way other people do. He doesn’t talk to me the way other people do.

But Meadow is expecting me, and I wouldn’t do that to her…or the pups. “What have we gotten ourselves into?” I ask them, but no one answers. Not even Ella.

CHAPTER FOUR

Archer

“I think Easton is sad,” Meadow tells me when we’re in the truck. She’s always been like that, an old soul in a young body. I think part of that has to do with what she’s been through. Knowing that what people used to see when they looked at her didn’t match what she knew to be true inside, before she even had the words for it, Meadow has always been sensitive to other people’s emotions and very good at being vocal about hers.

“Yep, I think you’re right.”

“It’s nice you guys are friends.”

Friends is probably too strong a word for what we are. I’d like to be friends with Easton, but when I think about it, I’m not sure he has any friends at all. He talks to people, meets people at the bar, but I don’t think anyone knows anything about him or spends meaningful time with him. He keeps himself too closed off for that. “I want to be his friend.”

“I’m sure he wants it too, Uncle Archer.”

I’m not so sure, but I don’t share that with her. And actually, that’s not true. I don’t believe Easton doesn’t want to be my friend; I just don’t think he knows how to let himself.

We continue to the park, then wait for Easton. I’m not at all surprised he adopted that dog. I have no idea how he got his other one, but after seeing her—her limp, missing part of one ear—I assume it’s from the same shelter.

A shelter he volunteers at.

The man everyone thinks doesn’t give a fuck about anyone, the town troublemaker, spends some of his spare time volunteering with animals and adopting the ones no one else wants. The more I learn about him, the more I want to know. I think maybe a part of me wants to become an expert in all things Easton Swift.

He pulls up beside my truck. He and the dogs get out—he’s got a bag in his hand too—and we walk over to find a place in the grass.

“I keep a ball and frisbee in the truck for Pretty Girl. I’m a little nervous to let him off the leash, though. We’ll have to see if the fenced dog area is empty.”

“What are you going to name him?” I ask.

“Not sure yet. Need to figure out what fits. They were calling him Spot, and I’m insulted on his behalf.”

I chuckle, appreciating seeing this different side of East. “He does have that white spot.”

“It’s a terrible name,” he replies.

“I agree with Easton.”

“Who asked you, brat?” I tease Meadow, and Easton almost stumbles. I reach out, putting my hand on his arm.

“I’m fine.”

Okay…I have no idea where that came from, but I often don’t with Easton.

We’re lucky and there is no one else in the fenced area for dogs, so we head there. Easton kneels and unclicks Pretty Girl first. Then he gets close to Spot, saying something to him I can’t hear, before unhooking his leash as well.

Pretty Girl begins sniffing around, and Spot follows right behind her. Wherever Pretty Girl goes, he goes, back and forth, left and right, as if he knows he must stay close to his sister.

“He likes her,” Meadow says.

“She makes him feel safe,” I reply, feeling Easton’s gaze on me. I turn his way and offer a small smile, expecting him to tell me to fuck off or at least look away, but he doesn’t do either of those things. He just…watches, almost like today is the first day he’s seen me and he’s trying to figure out who I am. “What?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and looks away.

“Can I throw the ball for them?” Meadow asks.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if he plays catch, but Pretty Girl does. She might fall, but she always gets back up again,” Easton tells Meadow, and I can’t help wondering if he realizes that he always gets back up again too.

He grabs the tennis ball from the bag and tosses it to Meadow. We watch as she throws it for the dogs, Pretty Girl running after it, tripping, and getting up. Spot runs too, but I’m pretty sure he’s just following Pretty Girl and not the ball.

“How long have you been volunteering at the shelter?”

“A few years.”

“Nice. And your job with Dusty? You like it?”

“It pays the bills.” He keeps watching Meadow with the dogs.

“Have you always liked cars?”

“Is this a police interrogation or what?” He finally turns his blue eyes on me, and I chuckle.

“No. It’s called getting to know someone.”

“You know me.”

“Does anyone know you?” I counter, then wonder if that went too far. Maybe he doesn’t know I’m being playful.

But then Easton offers me a small grin. “Good point.”

“So…”

“God, you’re annoying. I don’t know…I mean, I do like the job. I’m not sure if I always liked cars, but I like them now, which is what matters. It’s… I like that I can get lost in it—just me and the car. I like seeing something beat up become something new again.”

Jesus Christ, this man. I sure hadn’t expected him to say that. To feel it? Yes. To tell me? Nope. There are so many layers to him that I wouldn’t have expected, that I don’t think anyone expects, and again, I realize I want to uncover them all.

“What? You’re staring at me,” he says.

“I guess I like listening to you talk.”

He rolls his eyes, and I admit, it sounds cheesy. But it’s true.

“I think that’s cool—how you feel about cars. And how you adopt dogs in need.” He doesn’t reply, and I nudge him with my arm. “You can ask questions about me too if you want.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

For a moment, I feel the sting of rejection, but then he chuckles.

“You’re a police officer because of Travis.”

I nod, liking that he realizes why and that he remembers my cousin’s name.

“Do you like it?”

“That’s a difficult question.”

“You have to answer. I answered yours.”

Again, he makes me smile. “I was planning on it. In theory, yes, but I acknowledge that problems exist within the community. I’m not blind to them, and sometimes it gets me down, makes me wonder if this is what I should be doing, but then I also want to try and make the world a better place. I’ve organized training programs for how to help those with mental-health struggles, and our department puts a lot of money on education, on diversity training and combating racism.” It’s not nearly enough, but I’ll keep fighting for more.

“I can see that…those things being important to you.”

“They should be important to everyone,” I reply, just as Meadow comes running. Pretty Girl is doing some exploring, and Spot is still following her around.

“I think Spot is in love with Pretty Girl,” Meadow snickers.

“There’s quite a bit of matchmaking going around,” Easton replies, but I’m not sure what he means by that.

I look over and watch Spot with her. “He really is trying to woo her,” I tease.

“He’s a regular Casanova,” East replies.

“Ooh!” Meadow looks delighted. “You should name him Casanova! That’s so much better than Spot.”

“That’s a great name, kiddo, but I’m sure Easton wants to get to know him a little more before he chooses.” I don’t want him to feel obligated to take her naming suggestion.

“I like it,” East replies. “Pretty Girl! Casanova!” he calls out, and both dogs come running. Of course, Casanova is only coming because Pretty Girl is, but it’s a start.

“That’s awesome. I hope Dad lets me get a dog soon,” Meadow says.

“You can always hide one in your room,” Easton tells her.

“East!”

“I’m kidding,” he replies, but I see him giving Meadow a look that says he’s not kidding at all.

I couldn’t be frustrated even if I wanted to. At this point all I can do is laugh.

Meadow’s cell rings, and she pulls it out of her pocket. “It’s Dad.” She answers. “I’m at the park with Uncle Archer and Easton. He got a new dog.” He must be saying something because she’s listening before she says, “Okay. I’ll see you soon.” She ends the call and turns to me. “Dad said he’s done earlier than expected. He’s not far from us, so he’s going to come and pick me up so you don’t have to take me all the way home tonight.”

“Sounds good, kid.”

She takes off with the dogs again, and Easton says, “You two are close.”

“Yeah, she’s great. I love the hell out of that kid. She’s got the kindest heart of anyone I know. Cass is the best, of course. He would burn the world down for that girl if he had to, but outside of that, she hasn’t had the easiest life, though you’d never know it to look at her.”

East doesn’t respond right away, looking out and watching Meadow with the dogs. “Do you want them?”

“Want what?”

“Kids.”

I lean against the fence. “I think so. Might be getting a little late for me if I don’t hurry up.” I laugh.

“You’re only thirty-six.”

“Aw, you know how old I am?”

“Only because you’re my brothers’ age.”

I clutch my heart. “You’re killing me here, East.” Today has been the most conversation we’ve ever shared outside of me trying to get him out of trouble. It’s interesting, seeing this side of him. Having him ask me questions like if I want kids, without me having to prompt him.

“I’m sure you’ll marry some woman who’s just as perfect as you, and then you’ll have perfect kids.” His voice has a rougher edge to it than a moment ago.

“First, I’m not perfect. I have my own shit to deal with. Second, I don’t expect the person I’m with to be perfect either. And last, it could be a guy. I’m bi, you know.”

“If you’re flirting with me, you’re doing a shitty job,” he replies, making me laugh. Part of me really fucking wants to flirt with him, and I guess I innocently have today, but the other part worries about that. If East is interested and we add sex to the mix, I would never want him to think that’s why I’ve been helping him out and spending time with him. Plus, I’m pretty sure fucking him would make him cut off this…friendship?…even quicker.

“Dad’s here!” Meadow points to Cass, who’s walking our way. Easton immediately takes a step away from me.

“Hey, Arch, Easton.”

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” I reply.

“Worried that this volunteering at the shelter is about to backfire on me.” Cass sighs.

“Oh, I can guarantee it is.” When I realize Easton hasn’t said anything yet, I tell Cass, “East adopted another dog today. Saved his life.”

“You would have if I hadn’t.” He keeps watching the dogs.

“You almost got a dog? Actually, that doesn’t surprise me. You’re always trying to save something.”

“Hey, I am not,” I reply playfully, before feeling Easton stiffen beside me. I give Cass a small headshake, and he frowns, but then I’m pretty sure he catches on.

“Thanks for letting her play with your dogs today, Easton. She likes them a lot,” Cass tells him.

“You don’t have anything to thank me for.”

Meadow comes running then, with Pretty Girl chasing her and Casanova bringing up the end.

“Aren’t they cute, Dad?” she asks as Cass kneels and loves on Pretty Girl. Casanova isn’t sure and lingers behind, before going over to stand beside East, who lowers himself to give the dog attention. It’s incredible that East just met this dog a couple of hours ago, but Casanova knows East is safe. Knows that he’s East’s, and that the man most people don’t understand would never hurt him.

“They’re adorable. Did you thank Mr. Easton for letting you play with them?”

“He asked me not to call him that.” She turns to him. “Thank you. I had fun today.”

“They had fun with you too,” he replies. “If…if it’s okay with your dad, you can play with them anytime. It’s okay if you don’t want to, if you get a dog of your own or whatever, but—”

“I want to! Dad, can I?”

Cass ruffles her hair. “Of course. We should get going, though, and let your uncle and Easton hang out.”

Cass stands, and Meadow comes over. “Thanks for today, Uncle Archer.” She hugs me.

“Love you, kid.”

“I love you too.” She heads over to Easton next. “Thanks again!” And then her arms wrap around him, the same way they have done to me too many times to count.

Easton tenses, and for a moment, my heart stops. I don’t want him to be uncomfortable, but at the same time, I worry about him saying something that would accidentally hurt Meadow.

But then he wraps an arm around her too, awkwardly pats her back. His voice is thick when he says, “I had fun too.”

She pulls back, huge smile on her face, not realizing how special that moment was.

“Bye, Pretty Girl. Bye, Casanova.”

Cass watches me, and I can see the questions in his gaze, before he wraps his arm around Meadow, and the two of them walk away.

“I should go.” Easton begins hooking the dogs to their leashes.

An unfamiliar panic wells up inside me. It makes no sense. There’s no reason to feel panicky, but I’m not ready for this day to end. I don’t want East to be alone, and somehow, I know that it’s not good for him to be alone tonight, especially—it’s in the way his eyes keep darting around, in the way his voice was slightly rushed when he said he had to leave. “Come home with me. We can have a late dinner.”

“Why?”

“Because I enjoy talking to you,” I reply as he begins walking toward the gate, his dogs on the leash.

He offers a huff in response.

“What? I do. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.”

“East,” I say, and he stops walking. I’m behind him, his back to me.

“I don’t know what you’re doing,” he finally says.

“Being your friend.”

He sighs, then turns around. “I don’t want to leave Casanova. It’s his first night with me, and I have work tomorrow.”

“Bring the dogs with you. I don’t care if they come to my house.”

He looks down, seconds pass, a minute, his eyes close, and I can’t help wondering what’s going on inside his head.

Finally, he sighs and looks at me. “Can you even cook?”

I chuckle. “I’m not a chef or anything, but I do all right.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay with Pretty Girl and Casanova being at your place? I don’t want them left alone outside. Either they’re inside with us, or we have to be outside with them.”

I wonder how this man doesn’t know how big his heart is. “That’s good with me.”

“Fine. What’s your address?”

“I’ll text it to you.”

“You’re just trying to get my number,” he responds, but gives it to me and I text him my address.

We walk to our vehicles together, and as East goes for his truck, I say, “Hey.” He stops and turns to me. “I’d like you to come eat dinner with me, but you don’t have to. If you don’t show up, I’ll respect your wishes, but I hope you do.”

He doesn’t reply. Just shakes his head, gets in his truck, and drives away.

CHAPTER FIVE

Easton

I should just go home.

No! Easton Gordon Swift, you have to go!

Ella Gracie Swift, no I don’t! I sigh, then say out loud, “It’s stupid,” into the truck with my dogs and my imaginary dead sister.

It’s not stupid to have friends. You deserve friends. I want that for you. Don’t you see that more than anything in this world, I want you to be happy?

I do see that. I wish she didn’t. Wish she would just let it go and give up on me. I wish Archer would too. He’s hanging on to this hero complex of his longer than I thought. “I’ll go,” I say.

Even more confusing than why I’m talking myself into it with a sister who’s no longer here is the fact that Archer wants me to go. I don’t understand him. I’ve spent my whole life knowing I’m a burden, feeling unwanted, knowing life would be easier for so many people without me around, especially my brothers. They had way too much responsibility because of me, and now here’s Archer, taking my shit on himself.

I follow the navigation to Archer’s house. Because I left before him, I get there first. He lives in town, while my house is on the outskirts of Birchbark. He’s in an older neighborhood with sidewalks and fenced-in backyards, houses down the block.

It doesn’t have the space my place does, not secluded where a person can just breathe. I think I’ll always need space like that, to feel like I have my own world to go to, and for the first time I wonder if that’s weird. If it’s one of those things that makes me different.

I should have asked him to my house instead, but I don’t ever have anyone there. Well, Rhett has been, and Morgan and Dusty, but that’s it.

A moment later Archer pulls into the driveway.

“We still have time to run,” I tell Pretty Girl and Casanova, but then Pretty Girl licks my face, and I know she’s telling me it will be okay.

I get out and release the dogs from the seat belts.

“You came,” Archer says.

“Did I?”

“Always so damn grumpy. I’m beginning to think you don’t like me.”

But the thing is, I do. I don’t allow myself to like many people, to think about them or get close, but I like Archer…can’t stop thinking about him. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, and that truth makes me want to get back in the truck, pull away, and never stop driving. “They might jump on the furniture. I’ll try to keep them from it if you want me to, but Pretty Girl is allowed at home.”

“I don’t mind if your dogs get on my couch, East. I’m a lot more laid-back than you think I am.”

The dogs come with me as I follow him down the driveway to the front door. He unlocks it and motions for me to go inside. It looks like…well, an older house. It’s clean and decorated homey, nothing too fancy or loud. Lots of greens and blues. I walk over to his fireplace, photos of his family and Cass and Meadow on the mantel.

“Why don’t you have with Tripp Cassidy that family you told me you wanted?” My stomach is twisty for a reason I don’t understand. Hell, I don’t even know if Cass is queer, but my gut tells me he is.

“Because I’m not in love with him. I don’t see him that way. He’s a brother to me, and that’s how he sees me as well.”

“Never?”

“Nope. Haven’t even kissed him. You can let the dogs off the leash. And it’s late. Are burgers okay with you?”

I unhook the leashes, nervous they’ll do something Archer doesn’t like and it will make him not like me…or me not like him… Though it’s not like he truly likes me anyway.

“East?”

“It’s food, so they’re fine.”

He chuckles. “Man after my own heart.”

I follow him into the kitchen while the dogs sniff around. He washes his hands, puts a bowl of water down for the dogs, then pulls ground beef from the fridge.

I’m in Archer Thorn’s house, and I can’t figure out how I feel about that.

“Do you like to cook?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m good at it too.”

“Hmm. Next time you’ll have to make me dinner, then.”

I shake my head. He keeps talking like he’s going to keep wanting to be friends with me. “You say that like there will be a next time.”

“Damn. I’m lucky I don’t get my feelings hurt too easily.”

Fuck. “I didn’t… I’m not good at this.” Whatever this is.

“You’re fine, East. I’m bustin’ your balls.”

Yes, why can’t we do that? Not the busting part, but playing with balls. That’s a whole lot easier. Sex I understand. We can fuck and be done with it. He can get his enjoyment out of my body, and I’ll get mine out of his.

“Have a seat.” Archer nods toward the chairs at the bar.

“No.” I walk to the sink and wash my hands. If I’m going to be here, I should at least help.

We stand there together in his kitchen, making hamburger patties. I’ve never done this with anyone. Archer seems used to it, though. His heart probably isn’t beating too fast. He’s probably not sweating, his mind not racing as he tries not to talk in his head to someone who isn’t there.

Once we’re finished, he puts them on the stove, and then we wash again before we begin cutting vegetables for a salad.

He talks about his sister, Cora, whom he’s close with, and he mentions her wife. I figure most people know she’s married to a woman, but I didn’t. I don’t pay attention to people around town. I wonder how many other things I missed.

That reminds me that Archer sleeps with men and I haven’t fucked anyone in so damn long.

I’ve never fucked someone I’m…this with either.

“What?” he asks.

“What, what?”

“You made a weird sound.”

“No I didn’t.” I probably did, but I’m not going to tell him that.

Archer lets it go. He talks and I listen while we finish with dinner and then sit down and eat together.

Pretty Girl and Casanova stay at my feet while we eat, and I must admit, I’m glad Casanova seems to know I’m his person. Maybe he’s just by me because Pretty Girl is, but then earlier, with Cass, Casanova had taken comfort in me.

“Why do people call Tripp Cass?” It’s something I do because everyone does.

“Actually, I started that when we were in high school. We were doing the last name thing because we thought we were little badasses. He called me Thorn, and I called him Cassidy, but then ended up shortening it to Cass, and it stuck.” My stomach gets that unfamiliar tight and twisty feeling again. “His family calls him Tripp, but most everyone else calls him Cass.”

I nod, wishing I hadn’t asked. I’ve been asking him a lot of questions today. It’s annoying as shit.

“What’s Rhett been up to?” he asks.

“Don’t know.”

“You guys don’t talk much?” He sounds like that’s unfathomable to him. But then, my family does a good job pretending we’re a normal, healthy family when we’re anything but.

“We’re not like most people.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” I snap.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m just making conversation.”

There’s been one person in my life I could never stay mad at, hardly be mad at, and that was Ella, but for some reason, it’s difficult with Archer too. He makes me want to apologize, when that’s something I’ve rarely cared to do with anyone else. “It’s fine. Just not good at this.” Which I’ve said before, but it bears repeating. If he didn’t keep trying to do this with me, to talk to me and be friends with me, we wouldn’t have this problem.

“You’re doing fine. Cut yourself some slack. We all snap at people sometimes.”

But I do it more than most…and I want to make it up to him, want to show him that I appreciate the fact that I’m here, even if I know it won’t last. “I’m younger than Rhett and Morgan…which you know. Not sure why I said that. And they had to take care of me a lot. My dad—Gregory. He’s not like other people’s dads. I’m the reason Morgan didn’t leave for college and the source of fights he and Rhett get into. I don’t stop getting into trouble. I’m sure both of them think their lives would be better off if I wasn’t…me.”

“Jesus, East. Do you really think that? I don’t believe that for a second. They—”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’m not trying to be a dick, but if you can’t respect that, I’m gonna have to leave.” If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t have even given them that warning. Hell, I wouldn’t have said what I did. My skin feels itchy, his gaze like it’s trying to dissect me, trying to see beneath the surface, but once he does, there’s no doubt in my mind that he won’t like what he finds. “Burgers are good.” I take a bite, hoping to change the subject.

“Yeah…yeah they are.”

He wants to say more. I can feel it, and I’m glad he doesn’t. When we’re done eating, I help him with the dishes.

“Bathroom?” I ask, and he tells me where it is. I take a piss, wash my hands, then splash water on my face, before looking at myself in the mirror.

I should go home. He said dinner, and we’ve done that. There’s no reason to stay.

El? She’s been quiet since we got here.

I’m here. He’s nice, East.

I know. That makes it worse, makes me feel worse because he’s nice and I can’t figure out how to accept nice, or how to deserve it.

I like that you’re making friends with him.

I’m a glutton for punishment. Because I know it will hurt when he walks away, and that is something I deserve.

I finish up, then head back into the living room. As soon as I step out of the hallway, I see Archer sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, with both of my dogs around him.

“Daddy will be back soon. He just went to the bathroom. He’s not leaving you. I promise.”

My throat clogs up, my feet rooted to the floor. I don’t know why seeing him love on them, hearing him talk about me, gets inside my head, but I can’t stop watching.

“You’re lucky he found you, Casanova. I’m sure Pretty Girl already told you that.” He bends down, nuzzles Casanova’s neck, and the dog lets him. My heart starts going crazy for reasons I don’t understand. “Be good to him. He deserves it.”

I don’t. I really fucking don’t, but in this moment…I want to believe I do. Want to make Archer feel as good as he’s made me feel, which isn’t something I ever experience.

My brain shuts off, all good sense, if I ever had any, scattering to the wind. I walk over, and Archer looks up at me and smiles. It’s a nice smile, all full lips and kindness.

The dogs scoot out of the way, and I kneel, straddle his lap, take his face in my hands, and drop my mouth to his. I might be a shitty friend, might be terrible with words, but this I can give him. This I want to give him.

He’s stiff for just a moment before his lips soften against mine. I tease his seam with my tongue, and Archer opens for me, lets me inside, hands grabbing my hips, allowing me to explore him. His tongue is tasting me next, and I moan into him, go for his shirt to try and pull it over his head, but the second I reach under it, touch him warm skin to warm skin, Archer pulls back.

He makes a strange sound before his forehead drops to my chest. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

And there it is, what I was expecting to happen all along. Archer realizing he doesn’t want me, that this is too much. I guess I didn’t expect it to happen when I was trying to have sex with him.

“Yeah. You’re right. Don’t know what I was thinking.” I try to climb off him, but his hold on my hips tightens.

“It’s just, we’re friends, and you’re…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, but then, he doesn’t have to. I’m me. Why the hell would Archer Thorn want to fuck me?

“Whatever. It’s fine. Just bored and hard up. I thought we could blow off some steam together.” I try to get off him again, but he keeps holding me.

My head spins. I’m embarrassed and angry, though not at him. At myself.

“Let me go, Archer.”

“Listen to me for a second and—”

“Let. Me. Go.” I punctuate each word, and his hold on me loosens. He doesn’t fight me as I stand up, and then he does the same. “Pretty Girl, Casanova. Come on. Let’s go.” I head for the door and grab their leashes.

“Easton, will you listen to me for a second?” he asks while I hook the dogs. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea on what this is about.”

This is about me being a fuckup and him trying to fix me. I shouldn’t have forgotten that. The worst part is, I get it. I understand why he wouldn’t want to fuck someone like me. I’m a mess, and all he did was not want to kiss me. He has that right.

But I wanted him…tonight I wanted him, wanted more good feelings, wanted to give him the same thing, and I’m not sure how to process what happened.

I open the door.

“East.”

“I’m fine, Archer.”

I walk down the steps with my dogs.

“Hey, promise me you’re okay. That you’re not going to do anything to get yourself into any trouble.”

And there it is again: I’m a project to Archer, someone he feels he has to take care of, and nothing more. The even more fucked-up part is that I want to let him be there for me, want to be able to lean on him. That’s clear because I’ve let him be there for me so many times now, but somehow, I’ve let that get all crisscrossed in my head. I won’t make that mistake again.

CHAPTER SIX

Archer

It’s been three days since Easton walked out of my house, and I haven’t seen him since. I’ve texted him every day to check in, but he hasn’t responded. I’ve been giving him space because he has a right to that, but it’s getting harder and harder. I want to be respectful of his wishes, but I’m also not walking away from him. I think that’s what East expects, maybe even trying to make happen, but that’s not me.

It had taken every ounce of strength inside me to stop that kiss. I’d wanted my tongue in his mouth, wanted to lay him down, strip him bare, and make him feel good. Because I don’t think Easton has had enough good in his life, don’t think he’s smiled enough and been pleasured enough. There’s this unexplainable, feral urge to be the one to show him that.

My mind is on him while I’m writing tickets and taking calls at work. When I get off, I should head home or go see Cass or something, but goddamn it. I have to check in on him, so I make the quick drive to Dusty’s Collision Repair, trying to think of an excuse as to why I’m going there that doesn’t scream I kissed your almost brother-in-law, then told him no, and he stormed out.

The stalls are open when I pull up. I don’t see Easton, and while there could be a hundred reasons for that, my pulse speeds up. Has he not been going into work?

I breathe a little easier when I see his truck parked, then head over. “Hey, Dust.”

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” He wipes his hands on his work jeans and heads my way.

I try to discreetly look around the building to see if I can find Easton. Jesus, what the fuck is happening to me?

“Good,” I reply. Okay, so I probably should have come with a plan, but I’ve never done something like this before. “How’s Morgan?”

“Good. He’s getting things settled to start the remodel of the bar. He wants to do a lot of the work himself. I’ll help him when I’m off here.”

“If you guys need anything, let me know.”

He nods, looks at me, then cocks his head. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…ah, hell.” I run a hand through my hair. “Is Easton here? Has he been okay?”

“He’s inside and, well, he’s been East, but a little heavier on the fuck-the-world mentality.”

I nod. I had a feeling. But I also don’t want to get into this with Dusty. I trust him, but East is like a brother to him. Dusty is with East’s brother. That makes things complicated.

Before we can say anything else, Easton comes through a door and into the main part of the shop. He’s dirty from work, and all tattoos and a scowl and sexy as hell. His eyes immediately run the length of me. I shift, my uniform suddenly feeling scratchy against my skin.

“How’s Casanova?” I ask, unsure what else to say.

“Who’s Casanova?” Dusty wants to know, and Easton glares at me. How the fuck was I supposed to know his new dog was a secret? And why would it be?

“Listen, Dust. Can you give us a second?” I’m hoping he’s not going to ask any more questions.

“No, we don’t need that.” Easton walks toward the car.

“East.” I follow him, hearing Dusty say something about running to the corner store for a drink.

As soon as he’s gone, East spins around to face me. “Fuck you, Archer. I’m at work. You shouldn’t have come here.”

Guilt attacks my insides. I drop my head back, eyes closed, and sigh. “You’re right, but you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“That should tell you that I don’t want to talk to you.”

“But I think we should. I have a feeling you misread what happened the other night.”

“It was a mistake. I don’t know why in the fuck I did that, but I don’t want to talk about it, and especially not here.”

“Can I swing by your house later? I just—”

“Why?” he cuts me off. “Why are you doing this? It’s not like we’re really friends. We both know that eventually you’re going to get tired of my shit, so why keep this going? Walk away now and save us both the trouble. You can’t fix me.”

I look at him, at the heavy rise and fall of his chest. At the pain in his eyes, the truth right there for me to see. He really believes that, really thinks I’ll walk away. I don’t understand why. He has his dad, though clearly, there’s some drama going on with him. He’s got Dusty, Morgan, and Rhett, who have never left him, but then, our brains aren’t always honest with us. Sometimes we feel things that aren’t true, and there’s no changing it. Not everything in this world makes perfect sense, and hell, I don’t doubt there’s a whole lot more that Easton has been through than I can imagine. He believes everyone will walk away because he doesn’t feel he’s worthy of any other outcome, and I damn sure plan to prove him wrong. “That’s not what I’m trying to do—fix you. And I’m not going anywhere. We’re friends.”

He turns away. “Stop saying that.”

“East—”

“Just go, Archer. I’m asking you to fucking go. And don’t come by tonight. I can’t…I can’t do this with you.”

As much as I want to stay and fix this, I have to respect his wishes. At least here, right now, but… “Okay, I’ll go, but this isn’t over. We’re gonna talk. I’m not going anywhere, no matter how much you try and push me away.”

And then I turn and walk away, though I hate doing it. I want him to know I’m a man of my word. That he can depend on me to do as I say I will. It’s the only way to get him to trust me.

When I get back into my car, I call Cass. When he answers, I say, “Hey, you free?”

“I’m always free for you. Actually, I just dropped Meadow off with my folks. Want me to come over?”

“Fuck yes.” It’s so damn nice to have someone I can always depend on. Does East have that? Again, I think he does with his brothers and Dusty, but I don’t know that he realizes he does.

Cass arrives at my place a few minutes after me. It doesn’t take long to get anywhere in Birchbark, and while I know that’s not for some people, I love it.

“You want a beer?” I ask.

“Sure, I’ll take one.”

We head out back to my fenced-in yard, where I’ve got a deck with chairs. “How’s our little lady?” I ask once we’ve sat down.

“Good, but you didn’t call me to talk about Meadow.”

There’s no holding back the sigh because he’s right. The thing is, I also want to be careful what I tell him about Easton. It doesn’t take a genius to know he’s not the type to like his business getting spread around, but there’s no one in this world I trust more than Cass. Whatever I tell him will go no further than the two of us.

“I kissed Easton Swift.” Might as well just put it out there.

He chuckles. “Am I supposed to be surprised?”

“Well, he kissed me first…and I kissed him back…and then I stopped him, told him it wasn’t a good idea, and he got upset and took off.”

“Okay, why did you stop it? You don’t want him?”

“I do. Fuck, you know I do. That’s not why this started, but yes, I’m attracted to him. It’s a complicated situation. The power dynamic between us is already skewed my way. I’m a police officer, and East has gotten in trouble with the law how many times? Plus, how often have I been the one they call to deal with him? I don’t want him to kiss me because he thinks he should or because he thinks he owes me.” Now that I’m saying it all out loud, I’m not even sure it makes sense.

“You have to trust him to know the difference. If he believes you’re the kind of man who would expect something sexual because of that shit, then he doesn’t know you.”

I see what he’s saying but… “You don’t know him like I’m beginning to. I’m not sure if anyone truly knows him.” I don’t think he knows himself. “He’s got a bad rep, and yeah, he’s done things wrong, but…” I think about those nights at the campsite. Seeing him cry and talk to himself. Falling asleep in my arms. Sagging against me like he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore. How he doesn’t think we are friends and expects me to get tired of him. “I think that man is hurt more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Are you trying to fix him?”

“No. Hell no.”

He holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know.” I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “I don’t want to fix him, but I do want to be there for him. He doesn’t understand that’s possible. He expects me to walk away, believes he’s not worth it, and I think he’s doing everything in his power to make that happen—like a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“And I’m sure you stopping the kiss only fed into that—not that you didn’t have the right to do that. You do, and honestly, it was smart.”

Holy shit. Why hadn’t I thought of it that way? Easton saw that as rejection. He put himself out there, and to him, I didn’t want him. Why hadn’t I told him I want him?

“I need to talk to him.” Which I tried…and that didn’t go so well.

“You should, but I have to ask, just because I’m me. I don’t have anything against the guy. I don’t know him well, but are you sure this is a good idea? Getting involved with him? He does seem like he has a lot going on, and I don’t want you to get hurt. And could it cause problems with your job?”

It’s a little late for me to decide not to get involved with East. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to…and I don’t want to. Will it be easy? Nope. The truth is, I have no idea what I mean by “getting involved.” Do I think we’re going to be boyfriends? I can’t see Easton wanting that, and I’m not sure I do either, but I want something. I’m intrigued by him. We’re entangled in this way I didn’t anticipate, and I want to explore it. How we choose to do that, if we choose to do that, is up to me and East. But Cass is right about one thing: the higher-ups won’t like it. He’s not a felon, and that makes a difference, but he’s been in enough trouble that it’s a bad look.

I’m also not going to walk away from my friend because of mistakes he’s made.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell Cass because it’s the only answer I have right now. I can’t say what this means with Easton. I can’t say if it will go anywhere. But I want to be his friend. I want to know what it’s like to feel him beneath me too.

“I have your back no matter what. Whatever you want, I want for you, but think about this before you make any rash decisions, okay?”

I nod, but there’s not really anything to think about. I’m already too involved.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Easton

I feel Dusty’s gaze on me all day at work, just like I did yesterday when Archer showed up here. What was he thinking? He’s going to give people the wrong idea. Hell, I never should have hung out with him that day. I knew better, but I did it anyway, and now things are even more of a clusterfuck than usual.

“What?” I finally ask Dusty when I can’t take the intense weight of his stare anymore.

“Who’s Casanova?”

I roll my eyes, but at least it’s better than him asking me about Archer. I swear my life would be easier if people would just leave me alone. “My dog.”

His gaze softens. “Is that what you were doing when you needed to leave early? Saving another dog?”

“Fuck. This is why I didn’t tell you. Don’t look at me like that. It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Archer—”

“Nope.” I definitely don’t want to talk about him. He texted me again this morning, something stupid about just letting me know he’s there when I’m ready. What the fuck even is that? And ready for what?

Dusty chuckles.

“Not sure what’s so funny.”

“I just like him…as your friend.”

“We’re not friends,” I grit out. “Stop talking.”

Dusty laughs as I pull my mask down and resume my work. I need to go back to spending my nights in the bar, drinking and doing my thing.

Luckily, Dusty leaves me alone, but as soon as I pull into the driveway at my house, I see Morgan’s car parked there.

Fuck my life.

“Did your boyfriend tell you to come over?” I say to Morgan as soon as I get out.

“No. Was he supposed to? I figured I’d stop by. I was at the bar today, and I haven’t seen you much since we returned.”

No, he hasn’t. Not that I can blame him because I haven’t even tried. It’s so strange having Morgan back. I was seventeen when he left, and before then he and Rhett had basically been my dads. And while I think they both still see it that way, the relationship is different now. The relationship we’re trying to build, I mean. We’re all men now, but we’re still trying to figure out how to be brothers.

I want to tell him to leave. I want to stop all this stuff that people keep trying to do that makes me…feel. But his pleading look tells me he wants to stay, wants to be here with me, and damned if a hidden part of me doesn’t cling to that. “Might as well stay for dinner. Your boyfriend can’t come. He was pissing me off.”

Morgan laughs. “He’ll be fine with it. Hey, it sounds like there are two dogs inside.”

“You don’t have to pretend Dusty didn’t tell you. I know that’s a thing couples do. Tell each other shit.” I unlock the door.

That earns me a second round of chuckles from my brother. “Well, yeah. That is a thing couples are supposed to do, but he didn’t tell me you got another dog, if that’s what’s going on here.”

I open the door and let that speak for itself. Pretty Girl comes running out first, Casanova right behind, skidding to a stop when he notices someone else there. “It’s my brother,” I tell the pup. “He’s like a cough that lingers after a cold, but he’s not too bad…just don’t ask him to take care of Pretty Girl. If you do, he’ll show up with a dad and brother who hate you and an…Archer.”

“Hey, Rhett doesn’t hate you.”

“I notice you didn’t say Gregory doesn’t.”

“Because he’s not worth our breath. I hate him and don’t care how he feels, but the truth is, he doesn’t like anyone but himself.”

I shrug. “That’s true, but he does hate me more than others.” It’s annoying how I say things like this to Morgan now, to Dusty too, and hell, even to Archer. Maybe even more to him. Before Morgan can reply, I say, “New topic.”

“Fine, but Rhett doesn’t hate you,” he reiterates. “He’s complicated. All of us are. He’s not perfect, and I still don’t know how to connect with him, but he loves you.”

He pushes to his feet from where he’d been kneeling to pet Pretty Girl. We stare at each other, I think both of us remembering the last time all three of us were in the same room—at the police station, where Rhett kicked Gregory out, the man he used to idolize, and walked away from him…for me. Gregory didn’t deserve Rhett’s loyalty, Rhett’s love, but I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that the final straw had been me. I both hate myself for that and feel luckier than I deserve. “Have you talked to him?” We head out with the dogs so they can go to the bathroom.

“No. I’ve tried, but he’s not having it. There’s so much anger and history between us. I can’t figure out how we get past it. I want to. I think we have a better chance now with Dad out of the picture.”

“Do you think it’ll stay that way? For Rhett?”

“Not talking to Dad, you mean?” He shrugs. “Hell, who knows. I hope so. He’s toxic. We’ve been through a lot of shit that was out of our control—Mom, Ella—but so much of the things that couldn’t be controlled were because of him.”

Ella was my fault. I told her where to hide.

East? Are you okay? You feel sad, my sister says.

I’m always sad, I remind her.

Morgan says, “I’m worried about Rhett. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m worried about you too.”

“Got that good dick from Dusty, and now you’re in touch with your feelings?”

“This isn’t a game, East.”

I sigh. “I know.”

We both look out at my yard, watching the dogs.

“He likes her…follows Pretty Girl everywhere,” Morgan says.

Just like I used to do with Ella. “Yep.”

“You’re a good man, East.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m being serious.”

I don’t reply. A lot of the time it’s simply easier not to.

“You seen Archer lately?”

I groan.

“Okay, never mind, then. I have something else to ask you, though…and you don’t have to say yes. I want to make sure you understand that. I won’t be mad. This is totally up to you.”

My gut cramps, nerves ticking down my spine. “Just ask.”

“Can I name the bar Gracie’s? You don’t have to reply today. And again, no pressure, but… Maybe it seems silly since it’s a bar, but I want to honor her.”

My chest tightens. It’s hard to breathe. He wants to name the bar after Ella, wants to use her middle name, and he’s asking me. “She’s your sister too. You shouldn’t have to ask me.”

“I want to. She’s my sister, but she’s your twin.”

I can’t speak for a moment, feels like I lost the ability. My eyes sting. Morgan doesn’t have to do this, doesn’t have to use her name or ask me, but he is, and it’s so damn hard when people are nice to me. Sometimes it makes me want to lash out just to get them to stop, but I fight back the urge this time.

Because El would love the thought of something named after her.

I love the thought of it too.

He’s gonna name the bar after you, El. It’s gonna be Gracie’s.

I like that.

I know.

“Yeah,” I reply.

“You sure?”

“I think that’s a good name, Morgan, and…” Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. “I’d like that. El would too.”

“Jesus. Thank you. I…can I hug you?”

Logically, I know this shouldn’t be a big deal. And it’s not in a lot of ways. I want to be close to him, want to be close to someone, want not to feel so damned alone all the time. I just don’t know how to accept it. To feel like I deserve it.

I nod, and Morgan steps closer, goes slowly like he’s giving me the chance to change my mind. His arms wrap around me. He smells like my brother, like home, the way family is supposed to smell, which sounds weird even as I think it.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he whispers, and I nod, though I don’t believe him.

He doesn’t hug me too long, something I think he does for me when really, there’s a quiet voice that I never knew was there that says, Hug me again. I miss that, being close to people. It’s not like I never have been. I fucked men, fucked women, had people hug me or touch my arm or shake my hand, but it never felt right. Never felt like the hug of a brother, like it does right now with Morgan. And with people I’m attracted to, it was nothing more than physical release, sating desire, not like Archer’s gentle hand on my face or how his lips felt against mine.

“I’ll make you dinner now.” I step back.

Morgan gives me a sad smile, then follows me into the house.

Somehow, I feel like I let him down.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Archer

My eyes jerk open at the sound of my cell ringing. My heart climbs into my throat as I realize it’s one in the morning…and then I see Easton’s name on the screen. This is the first time he’s called me, and the fact that he’s doing it in the middle of the night can’t be a good sign. I skip hello and ask, “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t mean to ruin everything…but that’s what I do.” His voice is low, bleeding with sadness.

“You didn’t ruin anything. Where are you?” I sit up on the edge of the bed and turn on the light. My jeans from yesterday are on the floor, so I tug them on, forgoing underwear.

“I tried to fuck you. It was stupid. Just wanted to feel something good. You can still leave me if you fuck me, Archer. But maybe your moral compass doesn’t allow you to do that. Or hell, maybe you just don’t want to.”

I pull on the first T-shirt I find. “It’s not because I think sleeping with you ties you to me…and Jesus, East. I want you. I want you so bad, I ache with it. I just…” There are so many reasons to worry this is a bad idea. So many things I should say, but… “I don’t want to have this conversation on the phone. Where are you?” My hands are shaking. Please let him be okay. Please don’t let him have done anything stupid.

“I don’t know why I’m calling you. You’re fucking with me.”

“You can always call me. Where are you?”

He sighs. “Home. I didn’t screw up tonight.”

Guilt swims in my gut. I feel bad for having thought that, for worrying about it, but then, he doesn’t always make the best decisions.

“I’m gonna come over. Talk to me.” I hurry through putting on my socks and shoes, grab my shit, then head out.

“You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“I don’t. I want to.”

“I don’t understand you. You don’t even know me. I’m nothing.”

“East…” I climb into my car. “You’re not nothing. Not to me, not to Dusty, Rhett, or Morgan. Sure as shit not to Pretty Girl and Casanova. You saved their lives.”

He’s quiet for a moment, but I can hear him breathing, so I know he didn’t end the call. I drive too fast toward his place, glad he’s there, surprised he called and that he’s not arguing with me about coming over.

“I couldn’t save her.”

My heart splits down the middle, breaks off into little pieces. He is so goddamned traumatized by that day. Why didn’t Gregory Swift ever get his son help? Did anyone tell East it wasn’t his fault? “You were just a kid. It was a terrible accident.”

“Morgan is gonna name the bar Gracie’s. That was her middle name. Not Grace.”

Is that why he’s struggling tonight? “Yeah? Are you okay with that?”

“You shouldn’t have to ask me that. I told Morgan the same thing.”

“All that means is people care about you.”

Silence greets me again for too long, but then I pull down his driveway, and he finally speaks again. “She would like it. I like it. Good things fuck with my head more than bad ones. That’s not normal.”

I’m not sure what to say to that, don’t know that I’m dealing with any of this the way I’m supposed to, but I’m not going anywhere. I want to be here for him. It feels like the most important thing I’ll ever do.

My headlights shine on his white, two-story house, and I see him sitting on the porch steps, holding his cell to his ear.

I park, get out, but for some reason, don’t end the call even as I approach him, as I stop right in front of him. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” I say through the phone to the man sitting a foot away.

“I shouldn’t have called.”

I put my cell away and sit down beside him. “Yes, you should have.”

“I hate that I did.”

“That sounds more like it.”

He doesn’t laugh like I hoped he would. “I can’t figure out what you’re doing to me. Or why I can’t stop it. Or why you don’t shut this shit down and walk away before I fuck something up for you.”

“You’re not going to ruin my life. You’re my friend.” Which is the most important thing, even more so than how much I want him.

He huffs. “I’m shit at that.”

“No, you’re not.”

He looks away, spaces off, lost in his head the way he gets sometimes. It’s strange when it happens, like he’s stepped out of his body, like he’s in a place no one can reach him.

“No,” he says softly.

“No, what?”

East shakes his head. “Nothing.”

A minute goes by, then another and another. It’s a comfortable August night, probably in the midsixties, and when he shivers, I know it’s not because of the weather. He gets like this, to the point where he’s done talking. I doubt I can get him to speak more, or if this is the right time, but at least I can get him to listen. “I wanted you. I still want you. I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

He rolls his eyes. “No one has to know we’re fucking. I don’t want a relationship with you.”

“Ouch.” I nudge him with my arm. “And that’s not what I mean.” But the truth is, it’s probably something we should keep between us. Cass was right when he asked about my job. “I don’t want you to think that my friendship is conditional…that I’m only here to get in your pants. I don’t want it to feel like sex is in exchange for anything other than making each other feel good.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the only one who thought that.”

“I don’t think that, and I just wanted to be sure. Cut me some slack, East. I’m trying here. This is a complicated situation. I care about you, about our friendship, and I want you, but hell, you can’t even admit to being friends with me. Most of the time, I’m pushing this friendship on you. How do I know it’s not the same with sex?”

“Because you’re fucking perfect and you would never do that. I called you tonight. I don’t…do that…but I did. Do you know how hard that was for me? How much I had to talk myself into it? But you’re so goddamned good, and there’s a dumb fucking part of me that wants to be around that. Wants to pretend. Wants to feel like I could be that, have that. Fuck, just be close to it.”

I suck in a sharp breath. I’ve been given compliments my whole life, been told similar things, but none of it felt like hearing those words from East. The swell of pride I feel at knowing I give him that, and that he wants to be something like that for me too.

“What do you want…with us?”

He sighs, then shakes his head. “There can’t be a real us, Archer. I’m not even a full person. Haven’t been for a long time. I can’t be a real us with anyone when I don’t have myself to give. And you don’t want that with me either, not really. You might not see it now, but you will one day, and until then…I’m so tired of being alone.”

There’s not a part of me that doesn’t realize how much it took East to say that to me, to feel it about me. That for whatever reason, he’s chosen me. And I know he thinks I’m going to walk away, and hell, this probably isn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but I’m not going to abandon him. I’m not going to make him feel rejected. I’m going to show him that there are people who will always be there for him, and I want to make him feel good in the process. Want to be close to him. Don’t want him to be alone. “Look at me.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Maybe even doesn’t breathe.

“East…look at me.”

He sighs…but then grudgingly does. “Good boy,” tumbles out of my mouth, playfully but also…not. His pupils blow wide in response, his body shaking like he can barely contain himself. I’ve never said something like that to anyone before. Never even thought about it. I don’t know what made me say it tonight, but the curiosity in his stare, the heat radiating off him… “You like that?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s okay to like it, East. You can be my good boy,” I say, testing the words again.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?” He tries to turn away, but I reach out and gently cup his chin.

“Kissing you. Gonna make you feel so good, and I know you’re gonna be good for me too.”

And somehow I know, sitting here looking at him, that there’s no turning back now, and I don’t want to.

CHAPTER NINE

Easton

My heart is beating almost too loudly to hear my thoughts…the fact that I answered Ella with a no out loud that Archer heard.

I tell myself that even though I want this, I should put a stop to it right now, tell him to fuck off with that good-boy shit. I’m not a boy, and I’m sure as shit not good, but I don’t say that. Maybe even wish he would tell me again. There’s no harm in letting Archer lie to me.

“You kissing me, or what?” I say because it’s a lot easier to be a dick or ignore important shit than it is to let myself focus on it.

“Yeah.” Archer grins. It’s a smile that isn’t a lie, that doesn’t harbor secrets. How can he do that? How can he be that? And why can’t I?

He leans in and takes my mouth. It’s different from the last kiss, maybe because it’s Archer kissing me this time or because he told me he wants me. Maybe it’s those two words he said that I shouldn’t fucking want him to say again.

Archer’s tongue flicks at my lips, then sneaks into my mouth, and tasting him, smelling his cedary scent feels like it’s building a wall to try and block out all the noise and memories that plague me every second of every day.

His hand slides to the back of my neck, holding, squeezing with just enough pressure to feel strangely possessive and comforting at the same time. Archer deepens the kiss, explores my mouth with his tongue, like there’s not one millimeter he wants to leave untraveled, untasted, like he really does want me the way he says he does. It’s sex, of course. I’m not stupid enough to see it as anything more than that, but in this moment, I don’t feel like the East who screws everything up. The East who makes people’s lives harder. With him, right now, I’m just a man making another man feel good.

My skin prickles with need, cock throbbing as it fills and hardens. When he pulls back, the familiar burst of panic shoots through me, wanting more, not wanting this to stop, needing to be close, to feel his skin against mine, bodies pressed together in a way I only allow myself during sex, but with Archer it’s intensified. Probably because he’s seen me in moments no one else has. Sometimes it feels like he can see inside me, and that scares me because I don’t want him to dislike what he finds. I push forward again, wanting to kiss him, to have this night before he realizes again this is a bad idea.

I try to climb onto his lap, to straddle him on the porch the way I’d done in his living room. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.

“I’m not going anywhere. Why don’t we take this into the house? Show me how good you can be for me, East.”

I nearly growl in response. Want to do exactly as he says and try to be good.

I’ve never fucked someone in my house before. Their place, bars, cars, the woods, a hundred other places except my house, but then, I’ve also never done this with someone I know either.

I stand up. Don’t say anything to him because I don’t know what I would say, but I look at him, try to tell him to come with me, and Archer stands too.

Pretty Girl and Casanova are cuddling on the couch. I’d thought we could go there, but I don’t want to move them.

So I head straight for the stairs, hope he follows me up without a word. When I hear Archer’s steps behind me, I breathe out a sigh of relief. As soon as he gets to my room, I wonder why I didn’t take him to the spare, but I distract myself by taking off my shoes. Archer does the same, but when I go for my shirt, he says, “Be a good boy and let me do that.”

My cock twitches. “Jesus, why do you keep saying that?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

We both know I don’t.

“If you’re gonna take my clothes off, you should hurry and do it.”

He chuckles when I expect him to get annoyed. Nothing seems to bother him. My antics don’t do their job in pushing him away.

Archer tugs at my tee, pulling it over my head and dropping it to the floor. “You’re so fucking sexy…look at all this ink.” He leans in, his tongue lashing over my pec. My knees weaken in a way I would be embarrassed about if I wasn’t so turned on.

My whole chest and arms are covered in black ink, Archer touching each of them, kissing them, caressing them, until he moves to my back, and I hold my breath. There’s only one tattoo there, on my shoulder—a butterfly.

My eyes fall closed, waiting for him to mention it, waiting for him to ask why it’s the only thing there, why a butterfly.

“Look at it, East. Isn’t it pretty?” The memory comes unbidden, a young Ella standing in front of me, looking at the butterfly that had landed on her shoulder. “We should collect butterflies.”

“Okay,” I tell her. That’s how we work. If one of us likes something, the other does too.

“Hey…where did you go?” Archer asks, and I have no idea how or why that happened. He runs his fingers through my hair, the corners of his brown eyes creased in concern.

“Fuck me,” I rush out, smashing our mouths together. My fingers go for his jeans—unbuttoning, unzipping, tugging them down. I need to feel…I don’t know… I’m always so damn empty, and I want to feel full, want to feel whole, want pleasure to take the place of all my pain.

Archer’s tongue is a welcome invasion in my mouth. He kisses me hard, arms around my waist as he backs me up to the bed. When my knees hit the mattress, I go down on it, forcing our mouths apart, and I feel empty again.

“Jesus, something about you gets to my head,” he tells me as he finishes tugging off his clothes. His cock is long and thick, balls big and heavy, and damn, do I want to bury my face in them, to be so good for him and work a load out of them.

I reach out, wrap a hand around him, stroke the dick that I’m dying to have stretching me out. I want to suck him, to taste him, to get on my knees for him, but right now my body is begging to be filled in a different way.

“Fuck, that feels good, but I want to see you too. Take your clothes off for me like a good boy.”

A wave of pleasure washes through me, my need for him almost frantic as I let go of him and rip the rest of my clothes off. I doubt I’ve ever been so hard, dick leaking, balls throbbing, body begging for more.

I lie on the bed, head on the pillows, looking up at him. Archer gets the message, getting on top of me, groins and torsos touching as he gives me one of those perfect smiles of his. “I can’t believe I have you beneath me.”

“You gonna do something with me or what?” I’m shaking with need for him.

“What do you like? I’m more of a top, but I’ve bottomed and would be willing to. Or we can—”

“Fuck me. Haven’t I said that already? I need… I want…” Fill me. Make me feel close to you. Don’t leave me alone.

“You got a hungry ass for me? Christ, East. There’s nothing I want more than to fill you up, to bury my dick so deep inside you, you’ll feel like I’m a part of you.” And then we’re kissing again, hard and urgent. I spread my legs for him, Archer’s tongue pushing into my mouth, my arms and legs wrapped around him as he thrusts against me. It feels in-fucking-credible, but it’s not enough.

I drop my head back against the pillow, reach into the nightstand and pull out my lube.

“Look at you, all ready for me. I’ll fill that pretty hole of yours, but I’m gonna kiss you too.”

He pumps lube onto his fingers, nibbles at my lip, sucks it, while he’s lowering his hand. Archer’s fingers slip down beneath my balls, rub over my rim. An electric shock of pleasure shoots through me, one that says fuck yes and more, more, more.

“Inside.” My voice sounds close to a plea, but in this moment, I can’t seem to stop myself.

He cocks his head, like my begging surprises him. That makes two of us, but I love that he doesn’t mention it. Doesn’t call me on it, and just like the good-boy thing, we just roll with it, figuring out what the fuck this is as we go.

Archer leans down, tongue lashing against my lips as he pushes his finger inside me. I push against him, chasing that feeling of being connected to him, like his finger inside me keeps me tethered to the earth.

“Fuck yes…another one. Give me another one.”

“Want more? Want me to stretch you out? Fill you up until you can’t take any more?”

Archer pushes another finger into me, and I nearly melt into the mattress. I don’t understand it, don’t know how I feel about it. I’ve had someone inside me before, been fingered and had toys and been fucked, but it never felt like this all-consuming need. That it’s about sex, yeah, but also about connection. Allowing someone to see parts of me no one ever has, allowing someone to ease some of the loneliness that’s lived in my bones for too damn long.

“Jesus. Yes. Keep going.”

He pushes his tongue into my mouth as he eases his fingers in and out of my ass. I can’t explain the thoughts going on in my head, the way I’m swept up in the feel of Archer on top of me, in me, and my brain keeps saying more, more, more.

“I…” escapes my lips when he begins kissing his way down my body.

“What is it? Tell me what you need…what you want. You’re being so good for me.”

I’m not. It’s ridiculous. But I like hearing him say it anyway, hope that if he says it enough, he can make it become true.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“I told you that.”

“Tell me again.”

“Fuck me. Fill me. Give me your cock.”

He pushes to his knees. “Jesus, that’s hot.” And as if he’s inside my head, as if he’s hearing me begging for something from him I’ve never needed from anyone else, Archer keeps his fingers inside me, not letting me feel empty and alone. “Condoms in the nightstand too?”

My heart stops. “Don’t you have any?”

“No. I rushed over here. It’s not like I thought this would happen. You don’t?”

Disappointment makes my head throb. Why the hell didn’t I think about that? “I don’t fuck people here.”

His eyes soften, like he’s yet again trying to find something in me, something that isn’t there…

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“How am I looking at you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’m negative. We can—”

“East, I’m not fucking you raw. Not tonight, at least. I should be negative too, but I haven’t been tested in a while. Not after the last person I was with.”

“It’s fine. This was probably a stupid idea anyway.” I try to move, try to get up, but he sets his free hand on my stomach, slides his fingers out of me, then pushes them back in again. “Fuck.” I arch toward him.

“Did you think that meant I wasn’t going to make you come? Because I’m going to.” In, out, in, out. My eyes roll back. A soft, needy sound sneaks out, my ass pushing down against his fingers. “Your ass is so fucking needy for me, isn’t it?”

“What was your first clue?” I try to make the comment sound biting, but it doesn’t, and Archer chuckles.

He pumps more lube onto his fingers. “Look at me, East.”

“No.”

“Look at me,” he says again, and a stubborn part of me, one that’s scared by the fact that I called him tonight, wants to deny him, but…

My eyes find him.

“Good boy.”

I tremble, surrender to the moment and whatever it is Archer wants to do to me, as long as he keeps telling me I’m good.

“I’m going to use my fingers on this tight hole of yours while I suck your pretty cock.” He dances his fingers up my length, and I bite back a groan.

He twists his fingers, pushes in as deep as he can. The burn is a welcome sensation, the stretch and pressure too. “Yes. Please.” But the wild part is, I suddenly don’t even need to come. I just need Archer to help me not feel so goddamned empty all the time. The orgasm will just be a bonus.

“So polite,” he says playfully before bending forward, his tongue starting at my balls and giving me a long lick until he gets to the tip. He takes me deep into his mouth, the hot, wet suction driving me wild, while he finger-fucks my ass. Each time they rub against my prostate, my body sings with a pleasure I’ve never known.

When my eyes start to fall closed again, I force them open. I look at him, watch Archer because he told me to, because I want to show him I can be good for him.

He’s watching me too, dark hair hanging over his forehead, and he smiles around my cock because he fucking knows I did that for him. How the hell can this man read me so well?

Reaching down, I run my fingers through his hair, tighten my fist in the strands while he bobs on my dick, still pumping in and out of my ass. It’s so good, like I’m something to him, like he needs this connection too, though I know that’s just in my head.

He pushes a third finger into me, making my balls draw up, pushing me so close to that edge, but I don’t want to give in to it, don’t want to surrender to this feeling because when I do, it will be over.

Archer takes me to the back of his throat, swallows around the head of my cock, then brushes against my prostate. I move my hips, meet his mouth, fuck into him while silently begging deeper, deeper, deeper.

Archer pulls off my cock and buries his face in my balls, licking and sucking them.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well. Next time it’s gonna be my dick. Gonna watch that pretty hole open and stretch around me.”

“Yes…hell yes.”

“You’d let me stay in here all night, wouldn’t you? Let me finger you and fuck you over and over and over again.”

I would. I fucking would, but I can’t make sense of why. How he manages to do this to me.

He pushes his fingers in again, and I arch off the bed.

Archer curses, and then his mouth wraps around my cock again, sucking me as he finger-fucks me, hard and fast, until I can’t hold back anymore.

“Gonna come.”

He doesn’t pull off. I figure he takes that as a safer risk, so I let go, shatter apart as spurt after spurt of cum fills his mouth.

Archer takes it all, makes greedy noises as he swallows me down, then pushes up onto his knees, fingers of one hand still in my ass, while he uses the other to stroke himself. He jerks his cock hard and fast, his gaze not allowing mine to pull away from him, even if I wanted to. The tendons in his throat strain before his mouth drops open, hot ropes of cum landing on my torso.

When he lies down beside me, he pulls his fingers out of my ass, and I immediately feel empty…alone.

“I’ll get something to clean you up,” he says.

“No.” I rub his cum into my skin, wish it were inside me.

“Okay. I…”

This is where he goes. This is where I’m normally leaving. There’s no point in staying. “I’ll lock the door behind you.”

“I was going to ask if I could stay.” He wraps an arm around my waist, kisses my shoulder, so close to Ella’s tattoo. “Can I stay, East?”

Say no, say no, say no.

“I don’t care. Fine by me.”

Archer smiles like I just gave him some kind of gift, then leans over me and turns off the lamp before pulling me into his arms.

He falls asleep, but I can’t. I’m not the best sleeper on a good day—my past often coming back in nightmares. Most of the time, I can deal with them, work through them and distract myself, but some are worse than others. Nightmares aside, I’ve never slept in bed with someone like this before. And though he’s right beside me, it still doesn’t feel close enough.

CHAPTER TEN

Archer

My body is good at automatically waking up on time. I’ve never been the type who needs an alarm clock, my internal one kicking in early every morning.

I’m surprised that East didn’t pull out of my hold all night. He doesn’t seem like he’d be a real cuddly guy. I take a moment to look at him. He’s on his side, facing away from me. His eyes are closed, his features softer than usual. Like normally he’s trying so damn hard for something—what, I don’t know—but in this moment, he’s not fighting anything.

I wanted so bad to fuck him last night, but I also want to be careful with him. I want him to know that as much as I desire him, it’ll always be important to me to do what’s right for him too. Not in a way that says I don’t believe East can take care of himself—he’s been doing that for too long—but in a way that he knows he doesn’t have to. That no matter what, I’ll be good to him.

I kiss his shoulder, and his eyes pop open. He stiffens for a moment, and then his brows pinch together in this cute way they do when he’s thinking about something.

“I fell asleep.”

“People tend to do that at night.” I kiss his temple, let my lips linger there a moment. As soon as I pull back, East sits up on the edge of the bed.

I move over behind him so my legs are on each side of him, my chest against his back. “This okay?”

“Who knew you were like a fucking starfish?”

I laugh. The thing is, I’m usually not. It just feels right being close to him. I hope it’s soothing something inside him, and in doing that, it will soothe something inside me too. “I gotta head out. I have work, but I need to go home first.” My uniform is there, and my firearm is locked in my safe. “Can I see you tonight?”

“You have eyes, don’t you?”

“Someone is grumpy in the morning,” I tease.

“If you haven’t realized I’m grumpy all the time, you’re not paying attention.”

“True, but inside I think you’re a big old marshmallow.”

He chuckles. “Whatever. You know I’ll be here. Get some condoms so you can fuck me this time. If you’re gonna be here, I should at least get an orgasm out of it.”

I’d be an idiot not to see what he’s doing, that East is using sex as a way to allow himself to spend more time with me, that if he can come up with a reason for us to hang out, it will be easier for him. Maybe I’m just full of myself, but I think he wants me around. He called me last night, and that had to be so fucking hard for him…and the way he clutched me, the way he wanted me inside him so damn much, makes me feel like he’s touch starved, and when we’re together, he allows himself to get something he needs.

I want to be that for him, and not just because I want to fuck him, but because he’s East and he’s already got me wrapped around his damn finger more than he’ll ever believe. It’ll be a fine line to walk, but I can find a way for us to lose ourselves in each other’s bodies, while also showing him that’s not the only reason I’m here. That his friendship, or whatever the fuck this is, means more to me than just that.

“I can do that. And if you want, we can also get tested. I need to anyway.”

He shrugs like it doesn’t matter to him, but then says, “That’d make things easier.”

My heart jumps, getting lodged in my throat. That sounded like he’s acknowledging it will be more than a tonight thing. It’s on the tip of my tongue to thank him, which is some wild shit. I’ve never thanked someone for sex before, but this is East, and everything is different with him. Every step with him feels like he’s giving me this gift he doesn’t give others.

I sure as shit won’t allow myself to let him down.

He stands up, and I watch him—his sinewy body as he goes to his dresser, grabs a pair of boxer briefs, and tugs them on. “I thought you had to go.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know why it’s so cute when you’re prickly.”

“You got some strange kinks.”

“Yeah, well, blame yourself for that. It’s only with you.”

He crosses his arms, studying me as I grab my clothes and get dressed. We head downstairs together, Pretty Girl and Casanova dancing around and waiting for us.

“They’re used to sleeping in my room,” he says as I bend down and give them loves.

“I had a sleepover with your daddy. We won’t lock you out next time.”

His gaze burns against my skin. Not in a bad way, but one that tells me he’s curious. Easton is always watching me, like he’s waiting for me to turn on him, on them.

“I’ll see you guys tonight,” I tell the dogs before putting my shoes on and turning to him. “I’ll see you tonight too.”

“Go to work, Archer.”

“Bossy.” I hold his chin and kiss him. “We’ll talk tonight.”

“Who said anything about talking?” he calls out to me, but I just snicker and slip out the door.

I have a dumbass smile on my face the whole way home, while I shower and get ready for work too. I’m…giddy, which is strange and a little embarrassing.

I can’t say being a patrol officer in Birchbark is an exciting job. That’s a good thing in all the ways that matter. We want calm and steady. I’ve always been a calm and steady guy, but sometimes I can’t help feeling like I’m not doing the kind of good I’d hoped to put into the world.

There are three other officers in the station when I get there, talking to each other.

“I can’t help wondering who will be mayor when Gregory Swift retires at the end of this term,” Jones says.

“We all assumed it would be Rhett. I feel like something is going on with that family,” Martinez replies.

Craig looks up and sees me. He’s a dick. I’ve never gotten along with him. He’s a smug bastard who thinks he’s better than everyone else. “And then we have Thorn over here, who has appointed himself keeper of the youngest Swift. I can’t figure out why you bother with him.”

“Hey, back the fuck off, man. You don’t need to be talking about him or anyone else that way.”

Craig holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean shit by it. I just don’t get it. You know it doesn’t look good for you to be…whatever the fuck it is you are with him.”

“Friends? There’s no reason I can’t be that.” But really, in some ways, there is. I know how this works, and it doesn’t look good. And it sure as shit could stir up trouble if they knew I was sleeping with him. An officer of the law spending time with someone who has a record is obviously frowned upon. Plus, what if East messes up again and someone says I’m giving him preferential treatment?

Realistically, I already have.

“All I’m saying is, be careful. He’s trouble. Everyone in this town knows it. You don’t want that to look bad on you, is all.”

Damn, I hate that mindset, hate writing off people the way Craig is doing with East. I’d hate it with anyone, but the way my pulse slams against my skin and my gut tightens even more is because he’s talking about East. “He was protecting a woman.”

“That time,” Craig argues.

“He’s not trouble.” It’s probably stupid of me to argue like this, but I don’t care. I’m not going to let him talk down about East.

“I don’t really care if he is. Was just trying to give you some friendly advice, is all. Ignore me if you want.” Craig shrugs. “I’m gonna head out.”

After Craig leaves, Martinez says, “Forget about him, Thorn. You know how he is.”

“He just likes to hear himself speak,” Jones adds.

They’re right, but a lot of people will look at the situation with East just like Craig does.

It’d be smart to nip this in the bud, to pull back from spending time with him and to keep our relationship on not only a platonic level, but more of an acquaintance as well.

But there’s no use even considering doing that because I won’t…and I don’t want to either.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Easton

Rhett: Hey. Just checking in to see how you’re doing.

My gaze keeps finding its way to the message. It’s the first time I’ve heard from him since all the shit went down at the police station. Most of what I know is what I’ve gotten from Morgan and Dusty—that Rhett won’t speak to them. He’s quit his job and is living his own life, something he should have always done. I don’t think Rhett has ever really wanted the things he told himself he wanted, but I do believe that for whatever reason, he needs Gregory’s approval to feel worthy. Rhett has spent his life fighting to become whom he thought he was supposed to be, and that day in the police station, in his spur-of-the-moment decision to stand up to Gregory, Rhett lost part of himself, part of his identity.

Who is he if he’s not Gregory Swift’s greatest hope? Even if in reality, Gregory would have never been happy with Rhett anyway.

Who is Rhett if he’s not trying to feel worthy by doing what Gregory wants? If he’s not the lawyer everyone looks up to?

He lost that because of me, and I’m sure he regrets it. The thought makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. Why wouldn’t he regret it? It’s not as if I’m not going to fuck up again.

Me: Not getting into trouble if that’s what you’re asking.

As soon as I hit Send, I want the moment back. Wish I hadn’t replied the way I did because Rhett walked away from the man he thought he admired, for my sake, and this is how I repay him? Why is lashing out such a knee-jerk reaction for me?

You should go see him, Ella tells me.

I doubt he wants to see me.

How would you know if you don’t try?

I sigh and don’t respond right away. Having her in my head isn’t convenient, but at the same time, I don’t ever want her to go away. What the fuck would I ever do without her?

You should be closer to our brother, East. You have that chance, and I don’t.

She’s right. I know she’s right, and that truth makes me feel even more like shit. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Hmm?” Dusty asks, making me realize I spoke out loud.

“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

I continue working, but Rhett isn’t far from my mind the whole time. It’s my promise to my sister, to myself, that has me driving to Rhett’s house at the end of my workday.

He lives in the most perfect postcard house, with a porch swing and perfectly mowed grass and pruned hedges. Is there anything Rhett isn’t good at? That he doesn’t excel at?

I climb out of the truck and head to his porch. Just before I take the stairs, Rhett walks around the side of the house. He’s in shorts and a T-shirt, all sweaty, and with what looks like sawdust all over him.

He startles when he sees me, making it clear he hadn’t come over because he saw me pull up. “East, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Despite his shitty relationship with Morgan, it’s not a response he would have had to our middle brother. It just goes to show how bad I am at trying, at being there for people, that he forgets to be angry and forgets he doesn’t want to talk to us—all because he’s so surprised that I would set foot in his yard.

Why am I like this?

“Everything is okay. Just checking in to see how you’re doing,” I say, using the same reason he did when he texted this morning.

“Oh.” He frowns. “I’m fine.”

He heads past me to the front door, without looking me in the eyes. I’m not sure if he means for me to follow. Part of me wants to turn around and leave because it’s a whole lot easier than navigating our relationship, but instead I go after him.

“What were you doing?” While all three of us are capable of working with our hands, it’s not something I’ve ever seen Rhett do just for fun. It’s not something I’ve seen him do much of, if at all.

“Nothing.” He goes into the kitchen. I stop at the table and see his phone sitting there. Has it been there all day? Maybe he doesn’t even know that I replied to him like an asshole earlier.

Rhett grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and downs it. He’s bigger than both me and Morgan, taller and broader. Rhett’s only thirty-six, but he’s already got some gray in his hair.

“You been staying out of trouble?” he asks when he finishes drinking.

The question immediately sets me on edge. “Yeah. I doubt it will last, though.”

“No one can control your actions but you, East.”

“Fuck off, Rhett. Sorry not all of us are as perfect as you.”

He sighs, and yeah, I feel the same. This isn’t what I wanted to happen by coming here, but I’m not surprised it has. This is just how we are.

“I don’t have the energy to fight with you.”

I nod. Me neither. I glance at the heavy wooden table that doesn’t look like something you’d buy in a chain store. It’s got detailed carvings and designs on the legs. “This is…nice.”

This is nice? That’s the best I can come up with? He’s my brother, and the only thing I know how to say to him is complimenting his furniture?

“Just a table.”

“I think she’d like it…Morgan naming the bar Gracie’s,” I say, at a loss for any other words, though talking about her always makes it difficult to breathe.

Rhett flinches. He must not have known. Goddamn it. I fucked up again.

“There’s no doubt in my mind Morgan was going to tell you.”

“Well, I doubt it.”

“You answer his calls? Come to the door when he knocks?”

The silence that greets me is response enough. He doesn’t, which I already knew.

“I think it’s real special,” Rhett finally replies. “The name. She loved being the center of attention, so she’d get a kick out of it.”

A surprise chuckle falls from my lips. How sad is that? I have never talked and laughed telling stories about my other half. “She did.”

“And you loved giving her that. You were a lot more vocal and fun-loving…before…but you would always step back and let her be in the spotlight. There’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for her.”

A whole world of pressure lands in my chest, squeezing my lungs. “Can’t talk about her,” is all I can say.

He nods, and both of us just stand there, neither having any idea what to say to the other. How is it this bad? This isn’t normal. None of it is.

I hate this…hate the way things are, East.

Me too, but I’m not sure how to change it.

“You should talk to him…Morgan,” I tell Rhett.

“I don’t know how to talk to anyone, not really.”

“None of us do. Gregory fucked us up. But I know Morgan would appreciate it if you tried.”

“The two of you…you’re getting close?” Rhett goes to the fridge and gets more water.

“No. Not really. I don’t make that easy.”

Rhett huffs out a humorless laugh. “You and me both, little brother.”

A lightness makes my chest flutter as I snicker in response. For a moment, one fleeting moment, we’re joking and talking the way brothers are supposed to. The spell is broken the second Rhett’s cell rings, like a stretched rubber band pulled too tight that splits and snaps back against my skin.

Dad flashes on the screen.

Rhett is talking to him again. Of course he is. And he has that right. Why should he give him up for me?

Rhett snatches the phone off the table and rejects the call.

“You can take it if you want.”

“I haven’t taken one call yet, but he won’t leave me alone.”

Ah, so he’s still trying to be in touch with Rhett, but not me or Morgan. That doesn’t surprise me. “You can, though…talk to him. It shouldn’t matter how he treats me.”

He cocks his head, a look in his brown eyes I can’t read. “It matters. It’s always mattered. I was just too weak to do anything about it.”

Silence weighs heavily on us again, two brothers who don’t really know each other, or hell, maybe even ourselves.

“I should go,” I say, then turn and head for the door. Rhett doesn’t follow me, and when I get there, I stop, back to him, hand on the knob. “Thank you.”

“I don’t deserve your thanks. I’m not a good brother.”

“None of us are good brothers. We were taught to be the opposite of that, but for the first time, we’re trying.” And then, with my body shaking so hard it’s difficult to move, I walk out the door.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Archer

A call for a car accident made my day run longer than it should have. Things like that are always difficult, but I do my best to check my emotions. I texted Easton to tell him, but he didn’t respond, and I can’t say I’m shocked. Still, I hurry home to change, grab everything I need, stop for hibachi takeout, then go to his house.

The second I knock, he pulls the door open and is on me. It takes me by surprise, and I almost drop the bags. Easton’s arms are around me, his hair dripping, skin slick from a shower as he slips his tongue into my mouth. I melt into it, let him inside to taste me because he’s East and he tastes so damn good, I can’t get enough of him. It only takes a minute for my brain to catch up and slow things down.

I tilt my head back, breaking the connection between our mouths. “Hey…why we in such a hurry here?” I try to kiss my way down his throat.

He’s shirtless and smells like soap, but those aren’t the things I concentrate on. East is shaking, damn near vibrating out of his skin.

“Want you to fuck me. Fill me.” He unbuttons his jeans, not making eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” I set the food on the table by the door and drop my bag. Pretty Girl and Casanova scoot around us to go outside and lie down on the porch.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want to fuck. If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” He tries to turn away, but I hold on to his wrist and don’t let him.

“I want to fuck you. Jesus, it’s all I’ve thought about all damn day. I just don’t want to do wrong by you. I don’t want to take advantage of a situation.”

He rolls his eyes. “Stop being so fucking perfect. You’re not taking advantage of anything. I’m the one who mauled you the second I opened the door. If you want me, then fuck me, Archer. That’s what I need.”

Any control I had left snaps, fucking disintegrates into nothing as I grab his face in my hands and slam our mouths together again. My tongue finds its way into his mouth, East feeding me soft moans as we make out. We stumble backward into his living room, our mouths jerking apart again when East almost falls onto the couch. He catches himself, before grabbing the hem of my shirt and pulling it over my head.

“You’ve been waiting for this all day, haven’t you?” I ask, pushing his jeans and underwear down to free that beautiful fucking cock of his.

“Fuck off.”

I chuckle. “You don’t want that, do you? Because then I can’t tell you what a good boy you are for me…coming home to wait for me, getting all cleaned up for me. You’re so goddamned good.”

A shiver runs the length of him, radiating into me. Everything about him hits me on a whole new level, like he fills these places inside me I didn’t know needed to be filled.

“Get inside me.” There’s a sharp edge of neediness to his voice, one that I tell myself East has never had with anyone other than me. Who the fuck knows if it’s true, but I want to believe it is. That this thing between us is as intense for him as it is for me.

“Good boys say please.” The words fall easily from my tongue. It feels so natural with East.

“Get something inside me…please.” He says the last word like he wishes he didn’t want to say it but knows he does. I can’t help chuckling, realizing that as difficult as things can be with East sometimes, he makes me smile too. I have fun around him and want to be the one to show him it’s okay to have fun more often.

“So fucking sweet.”

I pull his bottoms the rest of the way down and off his feet, thick cock bobbing and waiting for attention. I stroke it twice, savor the heat of his shaft against my palm, before removing the rest of my clothes and setting my throbbing erection free.

“Do you even know me?” he asks, referring to my sweet comment.

“Yes.” I know him as much as he’ll let me, and I hope to get to know him more. But he is sweet, even if he doesn’t realize it.

“Get the supplies, Archer. I brought the lube down.”

He’d planned this, been waiting for me. My thoughts are slightly mixed up about that, but then I remind myself that East wants me. That he gets something from being with me, and I get something out of that too. That’s bigger than any of the other shit, bigger than the possible consequences of what I’m doing.

I grab a condom from my bag, Casanova lifting his head briefly from his perch on the porch to make sure it’s someone he knows before falling asleep again.

When I turn around, East is kneeling on the couch, elbows braced on the back, ass out toward me. He’s looking over his shoulder, watching me, his gaze a silent plea I don’t have it in me to refuse.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

“You are, East.” I walk toward him, stroking my cock. “Such a pretty, good boy.”

He rolls his eyes, but I can feel the heat radiating off him, the part of him that needs to hear these truths so fucking bad.

I toss the condom to the cushion beside him, set the lube on the end table. I suck my finger, and he pushes his ass out toward me more, legs spread, full balls hanging between them. I circle his pink rim while kissing the top of his spine.

“Inside…need you inside.”

My pride soars at hearing that, at hearing Easton’s needy pleas for me.

“Who knew you’d have such a hungry little hole?” I push the tip in, then kiss the next knot of his spine.

His ass basically sucks me in, so fucking tight as I push in farther.

Another kiss.

“More.”

“You need more, good boy?”

In. Out. In. Out.

Every once in a while, I curve my finger, brush his prostate, while I slowly, so damn slowly, finger-fuck him and work my way down his spine, one kiss after another after another.

East trembles. Pushes back against me. Sucks in a sharp breath and tells me to fuck off, then moans, “Archer…” when I rub his prostate again.

“I want to make you feel good.”

“Then fill my ass.”

“I’m getting there.”

Another kiss and another, until I’m kneeling on the floor, his ass level with my face, his wrinkled hole tight around my finger.

“Can I?” I kiss one ass cheek. “Let me eat this pretty ass before I fuck it. I promise I’ll make it good for you, East.”

“Yes. Hell yes. Something. Anything. I just…”

Need this. He needs this from me. I don’t know why he chose me, how I got this fucking lucky, but I know it’s true.

I keep one finger inside him as I lash my tongue around it. He smells like soap and musk, tastes like all my favorite things combined.

I pull my finger out, and he damn near whimpers. “I’m not going anywhere.” I nibble his ass cheek before swiping my tongue down his crease, over his hole, then back again, before I settle at his rim.

He pushes back against me while I use my mouth to ravish his ass, lick and taste and devour, softening him up and then pushing my tongue inside.

“Fuck…God yes. Archer, I need more.”

Does he talk to anyone else like this when they’re fucking him? Somehow, I know he doesn’t. That this electric, insatiable chemistry between us is something special, something that was destined in a way I’ve never believed in before.

I wrap an arm around his body, stroke his cock while I make a meal of his ass, stiffen my tongue as I push it farther into him, needing to be inside him as much as East seems to need it.

His hot, thick cock feels like heaven against my palm. I want my face buried in his ass, in his balls, until we’re both weak and sated, but my dick is pulsing with the need to be inside him.

“So fucking good.” I kiss his ass cheeks again. “Best hole I’ve ever had.”

“You haven’t even fucked me yet.”

“I know it regardless.”

“Don’t get why you say things like that to me.”

“Because they’re true.”

He moans, arches his back as I push two fingers into him, watch his body accept them, hear how much he needs it, this connection between us.

I twist my digits. “So pretty, the way you open up for me. The way your body needs mine.”

With my other hand, I stroke myself. Feel my body sizzling with a potent desire that only East can give me.

“Why don’t you open it up with your cock.”

I kiss him again, bite into his meaty cheeks, then pull my fingers out and push to my feet.

“Hurry.”

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

He trembles, and I’m not sure if it’s due to the term of endearment or something else.

I rip open the condom and roll it down my erection faster than I’ve ever done before. My hands shake as I pump lube into my palm, knowing that this, just like each step we’ve taken, changes things.

Holding the base of my cock, I push against his hole, watch it spread for me, pull me in. He’s so fucking hot and tight, this perfect sleeve made for my dick to fit inside of.

“Fuck…fill me. Needed this. Why the fuck do I need this?” he asks, voice soft and confused.

“I need it too.” I push in more, watch my dick get swallowed up by the most perfect ass I’ve ever had. As soon as I’m buried to the hilt, we moan together, settle in, my body feeling this rightness I’ve never known I needed or that I didn’t have.

“Fuck me hard. Don’t go easy on me.”

His words scramble my head, a burst of want shooting through me. I grab ahold of his hips, let my fingers dig in, pull back, and slam my hips forward again.

“Yes!” East shouts, his desire fueling me. I do it again and again and again, railing into him, filling him the way he needs. There isn’t a thing in this world I wouldn’t give to East, and I want to make him feel that, want him to know that his body is mine to pleasure, that no one can do it better.

Our bodies slap together, the scent of sex filling my nose, the sounds of our pleasure and heavy breathing in my ears. The couch moves with each of my thrusts. The world spins round me. The tight glove of his body molding to my dick, these two pieces of a puzzle that fit together so perfectly.

“You’re being such a good boy for me. Giving me your perfect fucking hole. Jesus, you feel so damn good.”

“More.” He pushes back against me, and I take him harder, East fucking himself on my cock. Each time my dick moves against his prostate, I feel him shiver, his ass tightening and his whole body sizzling with electricity.

“I want this to last, East, but I’m gonna come. Can you be good and come for me first?”

“Already close. I’ll be good for you. Jerk me off.”

I’ll be good.

Those three words fill me, make me feel like there’s nothing I can’t do, nothing I can’t have. I spit in my hand, wrap it around his cock, jacking him while I fuck him, piston my hips like a jackhammer, my dick in this place it’s supposed to be.

A few strokes later, a few more pumps of my hips, and his ass is tightening, East’s body tensing while he arches his back and groans out his release. Cum coats my fingers as he spurts, emptying his balls, ass so tight that my nuts draw up, my dick spasming as I fill the condom with my load.

I fuck us both through it, go slow because I know he must be sensitive. But then my dick softens and eventually slips out of him. East falls to the couch, on his back, and for the first time, I notice the towels there. He’d definitely planned ahead, and I’d been too hungry for him to realize it.

His eyes flutter, a small smile on his lips that makes one tug at my own. He looks so sated, so fucking beautiful and peaceful, dick soft, cum drying on his stomach, and all those tattoos adorning his skin.

There’s never been a person in my life I wanted more than the man beneath me right now, and I feel so damn lucky that he let me have him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Easton

I move to stand, but Archer says, “Stay there. I gotta get rid of the condom anyway, so I’ll get something to clean you up.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him no. Why does he act like he’s gotta take care of me? Like he wants to.

But I don’t tell him that. I stay right there on the couch with cum on my belly while he goes into the kitchen. A minute later, he walks out with a trash bag and a handful of wet paper towels for me.

“Thanks,” I reply without looking at him. I clean myself off, then throw the mess away.

“Where are your outside cans? Feels weird leaving a used condom in the kitchen.”

I chuckle, partly because he’s right and partly because he’s so fucking perfect, it’s ridiculous. “Around the side of the house. You walking out there naked?”

“It’s not like you have neighbors.”

I shake my head but must admit it’s kind of cute. “The key for the trash bins is on the wall by the door.” The bears are too bad around here not to keep trash in a metal, locked container.

I frown as he pushes into a pair of my slides, then takes the trash, key, and goes. It’s a silly thing to pay attention to, a silly thing to concentrate on—a man I’m fucking wearing my shoes—but it feels so intimate, so comfortable, it throws me for a loop.

“Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me?” I stand up, needing something to do, and put on my underwear. I toss the towels in the laundry, and after making sure there’s no mess on the couch, I pluck the bag of food from the small table, take it into the kitchen, and wash my hands.

Knowing that means dinnertime, Pretty Girl and Casanova come running in. “You two hungry?” I ask, as if they’re not always hungry.

I feed them first, then hear the door close when Archer comes back in. He finds his boxer briefs too, putting them on and joining us just as I finish feeding them.

“Casanova seems to be adjusting quickly,” he says.

“Yeah, it’s because of Pretty Girl. He follows her lead.”

“I think it’s also because he’s comfortable with you. And he knows you’re going to protect and take care of him.”

I roll my eyes, but at the same time, I get a tingling in my chest at the thought. I want them both to be able to count on me. To feel loved because of me. “Sorry the dinner got cold,” I change the subject.

“I had my dick inside you, East. I don’t give a shit about the food.”

“It’s a great ass.” I shrug.

“It is.” He wraps his arms around me from behind and kisses the side of my neck. He’s so…touchy-feely. Like we’re doing more than just fucking, like we’re in some kind of relationship, or hell, as if he just likes to be close to me.

I can’t deny there’s a part of me that wants to lean back into him, that has felt empty ever since he pulled out of me, and that emptiness is like an echo chamber inside me.

“We gonna eat, or are you trying to fuck me again? Can you get it up that fast?”

“I’m not trying to fuck you. I just wanted to kiss you.”

“Well, it’s weird.” I scoop fried rice, chicken, and veggies onto two plates.

Archer chuckles. “You have a strange idea of what’s weird.”

“Warm yours up first.” I point to the microwave. Archer gives me a dumb smile that I don’t even understand the reason for, but then does as I say.

I get us drinks, warm my food up, and then we sit down at the small table together.

He takes a bite…and so do I. He doesn’t say anything, so I don’t either, and we just…eat in silence.

Ask him how his day at work was, you dork.

Not now, El.

He takes another bite and shoots me a grin.

“How was…work?” Christ, I sound like a fucking idiot. Is this my first time having a conversation with another human or what?

“There was that accident. Two passengers were injured pretty badly. One…I don’t know if she’ll make it. Fire department came out, and Cora was working. I hate that she has to see that shit.”

I nod. It’s not something I ever really thought about—Archer running into his family at work that way.

“She’d kick my ass if she heard me saying something like that. She’s damn good at what she does, and it’s part of the job, a career she loves, but…I guess I just want to protect people from the ugly shit out there.”

I’m not sure anything has ever sounded more Archer. “You can’t, though. Not really. No one can.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

“You two are close?” I still have trouble looking at him when I speak, so I pay attention to my food, looking down as I scoop some up.

“Along with Cass, she’s my best friend, yeah.”

Jealousy sweeps through me like a wildfire, burning everything in its path. I want that. Want it so fucking much. I should have always had Ella, and she should have always had me.

Flashes of memories play in my head.

The boat tipped over.

Ella in the water.

Diving in as Morgan came running.

“Hey.” His hand hooks beneath my chin and tilts it up.

I’m not sure if it’s only been seconds I lost or if it was longer.

“Stay with me, East.”

“I’m fine.” But I don’t pull away from him.

“You wanna talk about her?”

My head snaps back. “No. Fuck no. Talk to me about something else.”

He studies me, and for a moment, I’m not sure if he’s going to listen, but he gives me a slow nod. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Fuck you, play with my dogs, and work on cars. What else do you think I do?” But then, I haven’t been to any bar in a while—something I used to do a lot, though not since the night I was last arrested.

“I’m grateful to be included.” He winks.

“You’re such a dork. Do people actually wink?”

He laughs. “Goddamn. I’m gonna have to up my game with you. I used to think I was pretty smooth until I started trying to win over Easton Swift.”

I roll my eyes. He’s not trying to win me over, not really, but the thought does make me uncharacteristically warm inside.

It’s that warmth, those normal, almost happy feelings he sometimes gives me, or at least tries to give me, that has me saying, “I can draw.”

“Good boy.” He leans back in his chair.

“I’m a good boy because I can draw?”

“No, because you told me.”

Goddamn him. I shake my head, trying not to show him I’m pleased.

“I don’t have an artistic bone in my body.”

“Eh. Not all of us can be as talented as me.”

Archer chuckles. “You’re such a brat.” He takes another bite of his food. Once he’s swallowed, he says, “You should draw me sometime.”

“Oh, I should?”

“Yep. You can draw me naked if you want.” He pumps his brows, and though laughing isn’t something I usually do easily, I can’t help but do it with him. Often.

“I like the sound of your laugh.”

“Do you google shit like that to say?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m just that good.” This time his wink is exaggerated and obnoxious, the two of us chuckling together.

We finish eating, then put our plates in the sink before heading for the couch again.

Ask him about himself, East.

I don’t need your advice.

But really, I do. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Outdoors stuff. Be with my family. Meadow has been trying to teach me to sew, but it’s not going well. When I’m around the house, I’ve gotten into building these 3D wood model kits. I’ve done cars, boats, a clock. I did this train that was really cool.”

I frown, unsure what he’s talking about.

“Here. I’ll show you.” Archer gets his phone and brings up the model kits. “These are some of the ones I’ve done.”

They’re incredibly detailed. They must have hundreds, if not thousands of little pieces. I can’t imagine the number of hours it takes to do one. “Those are really cool.” It’s not something I’ve seen, or if I have, nothing I’ve taken notice of before.

He nudges me with his arm. “We can do one together sometime…and then you can draw me.”

“Yeah? Considering you didn’t have fucking me on your list of things you do for fun, I wasn’t sure you were interested in me seeing you naked again.”

The smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth is so damn wide, so happy, it makes my heart stumble that I’m the one who put it there. How can me joking with him make Archer feel this way?

“It’s top of the list.”

“Now I get a pity mention.”

We continue to joke around in this weird, comfortable way that is so foreign to me. I don’t do this with anyone, and I don’t know why I’m not stopping myself from doing it with Archer.

It’s not long before Pretty Girl comes over, letting me know she has to go out. I nuzzle her neck, giving her some love, as I see Casanova nudge Archer’s hand, wanting to be petted too.

They like him. Pretty Girl likes everyone, but Casanova has immediately felt comfortable with him, and that thought has my chest feeling too full.

When I get up and pull my pants on, Archer does the same. We go outside together, the floodlights around my property illuminating the way.

The dogs do their business, Archer and I standing there, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the dark forest around us.

“Why are you here?” I find myself asking. “You can’t save me, Archer.”

“I’m not trying to save you. And I’m here because I like you.”

“Why?” What is it about me that’s likable to him? I can’t wrap my head around it.

“Because you’re the type of man who tried to protect a woman you didn’t even know. Because you’re good to animals, saving the ones no one else wants. Because you’re kind, which is sexy, but at the same time, you’re an asshole, which we all know is sexy.”

Damn him. I grin.

“You’re funny when you let yourself be. There’s a lot to like about you, Easton Swift, and I don’t plan to stop telling you until you believe it.”

And I don’t want him to. Holy fuck, I don’t want him to stop, and I can’t figure out how to make sense of that.

“I went to see Rhett today. You don’t get it, the degree to which my family is fucked up, but like I said…I went to see Rhett today. I wouldn’t have done that a month ago. A year ago.” I’m not sure why I’m telling him this, or what it means. Maybe it’s just to show Archer that I’m trying. That something about spending time with him makes me want to be better.

He cups my cheek and turns my head so I face him. Part of me believes it makes me weak when he treats me this way, but then, a growing part of me doesn’t believe that at all. Somehow, it makes me feel strong.

“You are such a good fucking boy, East. I hope one day you’ll be ready to trust me with the rest of it, the things I don’t know. And when you are, I’ll be here.” He drops his mouth against mine, and I let him, feel his tongue push between my lips, take me over, like he belongs there.

“You wanna stay tonight?” I ask when he pulls back. Please don’t let me have a nightmare.

“Yeah, I do. And we should talk about this…what we’re doing.”

“No. I can’t. No talking about it. Nothing public. Let’s just do it. That’s all I can handle right now.” I hold my breath, waiting for him to tell me to fuck off, that it’s not good enough, that there’s something wrong with me.

“For now. But I’m not hiding that we’re friends. And if it keeps going, eventually we gotta talk about it, East. And I want it to keep going.”

Damned if I don’t as well.

The dogs come in, and Archer follows me inside. I hear him lock the door as I make my way to the couch. I wring my hands nervously.

“Want to watch a show or something first?” Archer asks.

I nod, and Archer grabs the remote. We settle on a show about a CIA agent, but I can’t stop my hands from needing to be busy.

El?

You’re fine, East. Just enjoy your night.

My own consciousness doesn’t want to give me advice tonight.

Without thinking about it, I reach over, grab a small square of paper from the stacks I keep all over my house, and start to fold. It’s not until Archer says, “Hey, is that a butterfly?” that I realize I’m folding butterflies in front of him. I have thousands of them, something I do when I need to keep my hands busy, but I don’t fold them in front of anyone. “Jesus, you did that without even giving it much thought. Like your fingers just know exactly what to do.”

They do.

“It’s nothing.”

“I think it’s cool.” He tries to pluck it out of my hand, but I pull away…then stop. Archer closes his hand and sets it on his thigh. “Sorry.”

What does he have to be sorry about? Why the fuck can’t I just be normal?

So, heart pounding, I take Archer’s hand, open his fist, and set the butterfly inside. “It’s yours. You can throw it away if you don’t want it.”

“Fuck no. I’m not throwing it away. I’m keeping it.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He smiles, but then his gaze shoots to my shoulder, then the butterfly in his hand.

Tell him, East. It’s okay.

“She loved them…butterflies, I mean.”

And thank fuck he doesn’t ask me to elaborate, just wraps his arm around me, kisses the top of my head, and we finish the episode.

When it’s over, we head upstairs and get ready for bed together. It’s not until the lights are out that the feeling of being alone, of being empty creeps in again, and I reach into the drawer and grab more lube. “Will you put your fingers inside me? Just for a little while.”

“Jesus, sweetheart. Yes. Fuck yes.”

He slicks them up, then pulls me to him. We’re both on our sides, facing each other. Archer tugs my leg so it’s hooked over his hip, opening me up for him.

The moment the first finger pushes in, I melt into him, yes and thank you and why do I need this? all playing tug-of-war with my thoughts.

He slowly fucks me with one finger, then two, kissing my forehead, my temple. This isn’t for sex or to get off. Archer knows that without me having to tell him.

He just kisses me…fills me…and eventually, I fall asleep.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Archer

“So, is this a typical date activity?” East asks from the passenger seat of my car. The past couple of weeks have been great, which I must admit is surprising. We’ve spent a lot of time together, taken the dogs to the dog park, and even volunteered at the shelter. I’ve stayed at his house a good four nights a week, every morning leaving early to go home to get ready for work. I’ve been cautious for East, not keeping many things at his place so it doesn’t look like I’m trying to push him, and given the trouble he’s been in, I feel like it’s better to keep anything work-related at home.

“Are you saying we’re dating?” I ask him.

East blanches, clearly not having thought his question through. I don’t take his response personally. East has let me in his life more than he ever has anyone else. Plus, I don’t really know where this can go or what I want either. His idea of nothing public is smart, considering our situation. That doesn’t mean we can’t be seen in public together, but it’s probably smart we limit it and that most people think we’re just friends.

“Nope. We’re fucking, and you like to annoy me.”

“That’s basically dating,” I tease, earning a small smile, before he goes back to grumbling.

“Seriously, though. Is this a thing people do? Go get tested for STIs together?”

“If you don’t want to go with me, you don’t have to. I mentioned I was going, asked if you wanted to join, and you said yes.”

He shakes his head and crosses his arms. “That’s beside the point.”

As I chuckle, I realize how much East makes me laugh. “Of course it is. Just think, after we get these results, I can keep that pretty little hole of yours filled with my fingers, my cock, and my cum.”

“Fuck.” He uses the palm of his hand to press down on his groin and adjust himself. “It’s annoying as shit how much you turn me on.”

“I think it’s fun.” I reach over and run my fingers over his head and through his hair. “I want you raw so bad, I burn with it, but I always want to do right by you too. Better safe than sorry.”

When he turns to me, he doesn’t look frustrated anymore, just confused. His brows pinched together, gaze intense on me. I’m always trying to figure East out, but he looks at me like he’s always trying to figure me out too. I’m an open book, but for him, it’s like the words are written in a foreign language because he’s never let himself have any kind of honest, deep relationship with anyone—friend or more.

“Can I hold your hand?” I ask, just to playfully rile him up.

“Fuck no. What are we, twelve?”

I bark out a laugh as East shakes his head again, but looking closely, I see he’s more charmed than he wants to let on. Easton Swift likes me, and somehow, that makes me feel like the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

The testing facility we decided to go to is about an hour away. If we went in Birchbark, word would be all over town in the time it took to walk from the car to the lab.

Once we’re there, the process is quick and straightforward, and they tell us when we can expect the results.

As soon as we climb back into the car, I say, “Thank you for going on a date with me.”

“You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, but you like me.”

“I don’t like anyone.”

“You like me,” I counter.

I don’t expect it when he leans in, effectively ending the conversation by pressing his lips to mine. It’s a hard and fast kiss—just as his tongue pushes into my mouth, tasting me, he’s pulling back again. “Now shut up and drive.”

I grab his chin, tug him closer, and give him another kiss, this one slower, languid, and he lets me ravage his mouth with my tongue.

When I ease away, I say, “Yes, sir,” then start the car and drive away. “What do you want to do today?” It’s early, and we’re both off.

“What we always do. Hang out at my place.”

I nod. “You know, we could go see Cass and Meadow.” I’m not going to put us in a situation where we aren’t seen together at all. “Or even Dusty and Morgan.”

“Are you under the impression I did those things before we started fucking?”

“Hey. I’m trying here, smartass. I’m just saying that even though we’re being careful about who knows our business, that doesn’t mean we have to stay isolated.”

“I’ve always kept myself isolated. I like it better that way,” he says playfully, but I know he’s serious.

“It was just an idea.” The car goes silent while I continue driving. He’s looking at me. I feel his gaze zeroing in on me, not letting go. When I glance at him, he doesn’t pretend he wasn’t staring. “What?”

“I know it’s not easy…being friends with me.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Don’t walk on eggshells with me. I make things difficult. I don’t mean to, but I do. Don’t know how to stop.”

Jesus, this man. I have a feeling he’s going to burrow deep into my heart, carving out a place that’s just for him. “Nothing worth having is always easy, sweetheart. I’m sitting in this car with you because it’s where I want to be. If anyone has made you feel like you’re too hard, then they don’t deserve you.”

I turn my attention back to the road, but in my periphery, I see him roll his eyes.

“How do you do it? Care about people so much?”

His question nearly makes me swallow my tongue. I love seeing this side of East, him trusting me enough to let me in on the things that happen inside his head. “I don’t feel like I do anything special,” I tell him.

“That’s what makes it special.”

“Okay, so I don’t think I do anything more than most good people would.”

“There aren’t a lot of good people in the world. Can’t you see that this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and let me give you a compliment? You’re not much better at taking them than I am.”

Okay, well, that’s true, though that’s not typically a problem for me. “I guess I don’t feel like people should have to be complimented for things everyone should do.”

East shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to do with me, which is a strange turn of events. Usually that’s me doing it to him.

“But they don’t. That’s the point. They don’t, but you do. I wish…”

My heart beats so loudly, I can hardly hear myself think. “Wish what?” I ask when he doesn’t continue.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. We’re almost at the bar. Let’s just…stop by and see if Morgan or Dusty are there. That way you can get your annoying social tendencies out of the way.”

“We don’t have to.”

“Take the win, Arch. Who the fuck knows if I’ll ever give you another one.”

He’s right. Of course he is. I’ve paid enough attention to understand East’s motivations more than I used to, and though he’s suggesting we stop by the bar because he wants to do something nice for me, because he thinks I’m doing something out of the ordinary by being nice to him, I see it for the big step it is. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I don’t even tell him that he called me Arch, though the simple nickname makes me feel like the sun is shooting out of my pores or something.

Instead, I tell him, “Good boy,” and watch his pupils flare when he looks my way.

I do that. I give him that—strength, and those good feelings that course through him when I give him those two words, good being something he never thought he is.

I’ve never been so proud of anything in my life, and I want nothing more than to keep chasing this feeling with East.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Easton

Unfortunately, Dusty’s Jeep and Morgan’s new truck are in the parking lot of the bar when we pull in. I can’t pretend I wasn’t hoping they wouldn’t be there. I’m not proud of that fact, but it’s a fact nonetheless.

Archer parks by Dusty’s Jeep and thankfully doesn’t coddle me by asking if I’m sure or anything like that. As soon as we approach the door, I hear pounding from inside.

Archer peeks in. “Dust?” he calls out, and the noise stops. Archer holds the door open for me, and we go inside. “We were out for a drive, saw your vehicles here, and thought we’d stop by,” Archer tells the two men standing side by side and staring at us like we’re fucking aliens.

“Something interesting?” I ask.

“Maybe they’re struck dumb by our beauty,” Archer adds.

My heart is beating too fast. I feel dissected, like they’re trying to figure us out, and like if they do, I’ll lose it. I do my best not to let that show, try to steady my breathing and will my heart to slow. “I mean, mine I can see, but I’m not sure you’re on the same level.”

What I don’t expect is Archer’s, “I can see that.”

My surprise must be clear on my face because it snaps Morgan and Dusty out of their trance, making them laugh.

I guess it’s one thing to see me and Archer together after I fuck up, but something else entirely if we’re just hanging out. “I got into trouble again. Archer to the rescue.”

“No, he didn’t. He’s being a brat,” Archer tells them.

“I didn’t think you did something wrong,” Morgan says. “I’m just…glad you’re here. What do you think?” Morgan puts his hands out toward the room. I take it all in, which at the moment doesn’t look like anything except a gutted bar.

“Empty,” I reply.

Morgan chuckles, taking it in stride. “Do you want to see the plans? What it’s going to look like when we’re done?”

There’s a giddy excitement in my brother’s voice that I’ve never heard from him before. It makes me see how passionate Morgan is about this bar, how much he wants it and how much heart he’s going to put into this place.

“Um…yeah. Sure.”

“Come here.” Morgan leads me over to where they have a table set up. I’m not surprised when Dusty rambles off some lie about having to show Archer something. “They think they’re slick,” Morgan teases while I try to ignore the part of me that wants to pull Archer with me.

It’s nothing against my brother. I just don’t know how to be the brother I should be to him, don’t know how I deserve to when I killed our sister. But then, I also have no business depending on Archer that way. I’m already doing it way too much, giving him too many pieces of me, and it’s going to fuck me up even more when this ends.

The plans for the bar are laid out on the table. It’ll be organized differently than it had been before, the counter longer, and a corner with a stage.

“Are you gonna have live music?”

“I’m hoping to. I’m not sure how many gigs we can get here, but maybe on the weekends, or at least one or two weekends a month. I also want to eventually expand the menu. Want a dance floor, but more tables too for different options. There was so much wasted space that just by reorganizing how it’s all set up, there’s a lot more we can do with it.”

Morgan spends time pointing everything out to me, telling me every single plan he has, as if my opinion matters.

It’s gonna be great, El.

I know. Feels like lots of things are falling into place.

“What do you think?” Morgan asks.

“I think this is what you were supposed to do…that you’re gonna make this the best bar in the UP.” I look away because it’s easier than facing him.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me. And like I said before, if you ever want to help with the work…”

“I can do that sometime.”

“Archer too, if the two of you are…”

“Friends,” I fill in for him. I’ve had acquaintances, people I’ve spent time with, but have I ever told someone that another person was my friend? I’ve never felt like I really had one, other than Ella.

“He’s a good one to have,” Morgan says as we’re joined by the other two men, who must be done giving us our moment.

“Morgan is trying to put us to work,” I tell Archer.

“I’m okay with that.” His response isn’t a surprise. “You gonna have Cass help?”

“I’m planning on it. I’ve talked to him about it a little bit. I’ve even tried to get ahold of Rhett, but he’s still not interested in talking to me.” Morgan reaches over and takes Dusty’s hand as if he’s drawing support from him.

My gaze holds on where they’re touching, making me think about how Archer playfully asked to do the same with me earlier today. How is it so easy for Morgan to give himself to Dusty, when so many of my traumas are ones we share? What is it about me that just doesn’t know how to do the things everyone else does?

It’s not your fault, East…it’s because you won’t let go of me, and because we were never taught how.

Ella’s right in some ways. Morgan and Rhett had Mom to learn from, Mom to love them. And though I know how much my brothers gave up for me, it’s because they didn’t have a choice. They did it because my father wanted nothing to do with me.

“Gregory’s been calling him,” I admit. “He said he’s not answering.”

“You saw him?” The hurt in Morgan’s voice cuts deep. Damn it. Why hadn’t I thought about that before I’d spoken?

Why did Rhett see me and not Morgan?

“Just because he was afraid I’d done something wrong again.”

Morgan sighs and doesn’t question my response.

“Gregory was calling Morgan too. We blocked his number,” Dusty says, and I’m not surprised that the only person he’s not calling is me. He never cared and never will. He told me I’m not a Swift anymore, but the thing is, I don’t think he ever saw me as one.

“If it’s for me, neither you nor Rhett have to do that.”

“It’s for us,” Morgan says. “All of us. He’s like a disease that has been eating away at our relationship, at our lives, for too long.”

My gaze finds Archer, who’s watching me. Most of the shit with Gregory, he’s unfamiliar with, but he’s getting an idea of how fucked up my family is. Will that be the thing that makes him run? He’s not used to that. His family are close, he’s said so himself.

“We should go. I need to check on the dogs,” I say.

“Yeah. Okay. Thanks for coming, East. Maybe the four of us can hang out sometime. You also need to have me over for dinner soon, otherwise I’ll just show up again,” my brother teases.

“He’s a good cook.” Archer grins like he’s proud to pump me up to Morgan and Dusty, but all he just did was let them know I’ve cooked for him, something I’ve done a few times since we started fucking. It’s showing them more ways in which my life and Archer’s have become entwined.

“Why is it that both Morgan and Archer have tasted your food, and I haven’t?” Dusty asks.

“Because they’re annoying and stalk me more than you do.”

They all laugh at my response.

And of course Ella pipes up then. You should do it, have Morgan and Dusty over. Dusty’s been good to you. He cares about you and trusts you.

She’s right, he does. Hell, Dusty had been willing to let me run his business if he moved to California with Morgan.

“We can do that sometime…have you both over. Casanova needs to get to know you both anyway. Plus, Pretty Girl loves Morgan for some reason.” It’s easier to use my dogs as an excuse, though I’m not dumb enough to think they don’t see what I’m doing.

Archer’s hand comes down on my shoulder. He gives a gentle squeeze, then slides it to my nape and lets it rest there. I should move it, step away, but I don’t.

Morgan watches Archer holding on to me, but Dusty does a better job at pretending to ignore it. “I’d like that.”

My skin is itchy because I’m ready to get out of there.

“See you guys later,” Archer tells them, and we head for the door. Once we’re in the car, he says, “I’m proud of you.”

Thank you. “It’s sad, though, isn’t it? That you’re proud of me for something like that?”

“I think it’s sad that there have been things in your life that have beat you down so much, even making an invitation to dinner is difficult. I’m sad for everything you’ve lost and that there’s a whole lot more going on than most people realize. You and your brothers are carrying around more trauma than anyone sees. It’s sad that I didn’t know sooner because I would have done everything in my fucking power to help make it better for you, East.”

I nod, look out the window. “Can we go?”

“Yeah. Of course we can.”

I watch the scenery pass by. The weather will start cooling off even more soon, and before we know it, we’ll be buried in snow. “I like the snow,” I say.

“Yeah? I don’t mind it. Makes everything beautiful. Just cold as fuck.”

“Ella loved it. We used to have snowball fights, and I’d always let her win. I let her win everything, have everything, because it felt good to make her happy.”

Archer’s warm, strong hand lands on my thigh. “You’re a good brother. She knew that.”

But I wasn’t. Not really.

Tell him something, East. You can trust him. Ella’s voice is soft in my head.

“Morgan and Rhett practically raised me and Ella. Gregory has always hated me.”

“I’m sure he didn’t—”

“He did, but that’s not what this is about. I just thought I should give you something, want to give you something. Rhett and Morgan never got along, at least not that I remember. Rhett got to go to college, but Morgan had to stay local to take care of me and El…and then just me… Morgan hated Rhett, hated Gregory. He maybe hated the whole damn world except for Dusty James. One night, after Rhett returned and before Morgan left for California, Dusty and Rhett kissed. It was dumb. I think Rhett did it because he was hurting and jealous of Morgan, and Dusty did it because he loved Morgan and was losing him, but Morgan saw them, and that anger has festered ever since. Morgan is trying to get past it now, but for whatever reason, Rhett can’t.”

“Jesus. What a mess. You know that none of that is your fault, right? Your brothers taking care of you, or the anger they have for each other.”

I shrug because truth doesn’t have much to do with fault. A lot of fault is really in how someone feels. “Just wanted to explain a little, is all.”

“I…okay. Thank you for telling me. And I’m not sure if this is the right time to say this, but I also don’t want to feel like I’m keeping something from you… Me and Dusty, we’ve slept together before.”

My head whips in his direction, pressure landing in my chest, growing by the second. I shouldn’t care. It doesn’t matter. Archer isn’t mine, but…

Like he knows, reading me the way he always does, Archer pulls off to the side of the road. “It wasn’t like it is with us, sweetheart. We were simply scratching an itch, for lack of a better term.”

“And what are we doing?”

“I don’t know, but it’s more.” He cups my cheek the way he so often does. “You’re more.”

“Don’t do that. Don’t waste that on me.”

“It’s not a waste, and there’s no stopping it. But I’m not pushing you either. We can go back to not talking about it now if you want. I just needed to make sure you understand that.”

I nuzzle my face into his hand, then nod. Not talking about it is a whole lot easier than telling Archer I’m scared I’m going to fall for him, but that I’ll do it wrong and ruin everything.

We’re quiet the rest of the way home. He’s got me all up in my feels the way Archer does so easily. “I need you to…”

“Yeah, I will. I want it too,” he replies without me needing to finish my sentence.

We give the dogs some attention, and then Archer follows me upstairs.

“Shower,” he says, and I listen. Once we’re inside, his mouth finds mine, his arms tight around me.

One moment we’re under the spray, getting cleaned up, and the next we’re dried off and in bed, Archer slicking up his fingers before slipping one, then two between my cheeks, then deep in my ass. Like always, I melt against him, feel like I’m floating above everything else while also feeling weighed down.

“Sometimes it’s like there’s too much going on inside me. I think too much and feel too much. I can’t control it, and I feel like I’m gonna lose myself, but this…this helps.”

He slides his fingers in, then out, reminding me he’s there, making that emptiness retreat.

“It does something for me too…giving you this…”

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

His eyes on mine, mine on his.

Please don’t let me ruin this.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Archer

Birchbark has been busier than usual the past week, and with one of our officers out, I’ve had to pick up extra shifts. It’s cut into my time with Easton, which isn’t something I’m happy about, but it can’t be helped.

Surprisingly, he’s been texting me. A few nights ago, out of the blue, he sent me a photo of Casanova and Pretty Girl playing outside, then another of them cuddling on the dog bed. He’s sent me a photo of dinner he made too. I’ve noticed he mostly sends pictures—something that must be easier for East than using words—and then I’ll engage in conversation, which he’ll respond to. I’m trying not to focus on the fact that it feels like his way of reaching out because thinking things like that might set me up for more heartache in the future. But clearly, he does want to reach out, and I’m smart enough to see that as the gift it is.

Just like when he talked to me about Ella. It wasn’t much, just how they both liked snow and their snowball fights, but for East, that’s huge.

I’m leaving the station for the day, exhausted, and I know East is working late tonight on a vehicle they need to get done, so I find myself driving to Cora’s. I’ve seen my sister a couple of times in a work capacity, but we haven’t hung out in a while. That’s not typical for us. Between East and work, I haven’t seen any of my family nearly as much as I typically do.

Plus, thinking about East often makes me think about Cora. He’s in so much pain from losing his sister, and it’s a reminder of how lucky I am to have mine, that we share the relationship we do. East never got to grow up with Ella. He didn’t get to tell her boyfriends or girlfriends to be good to her or learn to drive with her. He didn’t get to help her sneak out like a good brother does and cover for her when she almost got caught. He didn’t have her to talk to, and like me and Cora, to be the first person we shared our queerness with or the million other memories I have with her.

Cora and Simone’s place is only a ten-minute drive from the station. They live in a small three-bedroom house on a quiet street, with the familiar scent of freshwater clinging to the air.

A second after I knock, the door pulls open, my sister’s wife beaming at me. She’s got her black hair in cornrows that lead into loose braids at her nape, the ends with beads on them. Her skin is a rich, cool brown, her belly swollen with their first child, via an anonymous sperm donor.

“Hey, honey. How are you?” I give Simone a quick hug and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Fat,” she says playfully, rubbing a hand over her stomach.

“Can I?”

“Of course.”

I place my hand on her belly. “Hey, little one. Your uncle Archer can’t wait to meet you.”

“Arch? Is that you?” my sister calls from the kitchen.

“Yep. It’s me.”

“She just got off work but insisted on cooking me dinner.” Simone heads inside, and I follow.

“That’s because she knows how to treat her lady.” We head into the kitchen, Simone sitting at the small table there. “Hey, you.” I hug and kiss my sister. “Smells good.” I nod toward her stir-fry.

“There’s enough for you too.”

“I’m not going to turn you down.”

She playfully swats my stomach. “You’ve always been able to eat like crazy and not put on any weight. It’s the main reason I hate you.”

I laugh and lean against the counter. “The main one? How many are there? I thought you loved me and I was your best friend.”

“I do love you and you are my best friend.” She peeks around me at Simone. “Other than my lovely wife. But it’s my job as your sister to get mad at you for certain things. Your metabolism is one of them.”

I chuckle. “Well, I guess I can accept that. As long as you love me.”

“It would be impossible for anyone not to love you, Arch.”

“I agree,” Simone adds.

“Stop or you’ll make me blush,” I tease.

Simone has been like a sister to me since we were teens. She and Cora had been best friends. Unfortunately, she lost her parents when she was nineteen. The two of them have done and continue to do everything together, but it wasn’t until they were thirty that Simone realized she was in love with Cora, and my sister just said, “Took you long enough.” They’ve been together ever since.

We chat while Cora finishes cooking, and then the three of us sit down at the table to eat together. When dinner is done, Simone says she wants to relax in the bath, so I wait for my sister while she goes and runs the water and helps Simone in.

“You’re good to her,” I say when she comes back to the living room.

“I love her. I’m supposed to be good to her. And she’s the same with me. Whenever you find your person, you’ll be the same with them too.”

I nod, trying to ignore the fact that East’s face fills my thoughts. It’s too early to be thinking that way, but I know myself, and I know how I feel. What I’m starting to feel for him isn’t something I’ve ever experienced before.

“I’m…kinda into someone.”

“Kinda?”

“I am into him, but it’s complicated,” I admit.

It’s hard to sort out what I’m trying to say without giving away too much. I don’t want to betray East’s trust in any way, but I always talk to my sister and Cass. They know everything about me, but I haven’t shared much about East with Cass and nothing with her.

“He’s been through a lot, so it’s hard for him to let people in. He does it with me in little ways, though. I just…hell. I’m not sure he’ll want the same things I’m pretty sure I’ll want, and I don’t know if being with him could make things difficult at work.”

She frowns, maybe putting the pieces together, or maybe just curious. “Want to know what I think?”

“That’s part of why I’m here.” I chuckle.

“I know you, Archer, and if you’re thinking about all this, you’re already in deep. For people like us, there’s no going back from that. Dad knew Mom was the one for him, and he never faltered. I was sixteen when I realized I was in love with Simone, but I knew she wasn’t ready, and hell, I didn’t know if she would ever feel the same. She’d never been with a woman before me, but once I knew, I knew. If she hadn’t fallen for me, I never would have gotten into a serious relationship, and I’d have spent my life loving her quietly. Is that healthy? No, but that’s how Thorns love. We love big, and we love forever, so I hate to break it to you, but if he doesn’t feel the same, you’re fucked.”

I bark out a laugh but know she’s right. I am in deep. East means more to me than I expected. “Gee, thanks. This has been a really uplifting conversation.”

“Eh, you come to me because I’m honest.”

I nod because she’s right about that too.

“And I’m not sure what work stuff you’re talking about, but as I said, I know you. You’re the best guy in the world. If you like him, then he’s good people, and fuck anyone who doesn’t see that. What do you care about having more of for the rest of your life? Is a job going to run you a bath after a long day? Is it going to hold you and laugh with you and make you feel like everything is right in your world?”

“No.” I shake my head. Having someone I care about is more important than a job, especially a job I don’t love the way I’d hoped I would. “I get it. I just worry I’m getting ahead of myself. But I hear what you’re saying, and I’ll take it to heart.”

She claps her hands together. “Good. Now, should we have a family get-together and you can invite Easton?”

I throw a couch pillow at her. “What the fuck, Cor?”

“Mom said you’ve been spending time with him. You know how Birchbark is, and it’s not like we don’t know you’re the one they call if he’s in trouble or if they’re trying to keep him out of trouble.”

I sigh, not surprised in the least that she’s put the pieces together. “We’re just friends.”

“No reason you can’t have your friend over. Plus, it will probably be good for him. That dad of his…there’s something about him that rubs me the wrong way.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“He was rarely around when we were younger. I remember that. Mom used to talk about how sad it was that Morgan and Rhett were taking care of the younger ones.”

He’s behind a lot of what’s hurting East. I can see it. And Cora’s idea isn’t half bad. Mom would shower East with attention the way she’s known to do. He deserves that. “You know what? We should plan something. Can you bring it up with Mom without making it obvious that I’m…anything other than friends with East?”

“Sure thing, big brother, but we’re Thorns. None of us are stupid. Mom and Dad are both going to know.”

It’ll be about as easy to fool them as it is to fool myself.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Easton

For the second time, I’m showing up at Rhett’s house unannounced. This isn’t something I’ve ever done until recently. I tried to stay away from my brother once I was out of the house. Rhett and Morgan had to deal with me enough when we were kids. The last thing I want is to put my shit on them as an adult too, but this visit isn’t about me. It’s just me doing some really weird shit I’ve never done before.

I knock on the door, and this time, Rhett doesn’t answer it sweaty or covered in sawdust. He’s got on jeans and a T-shirt, but even the sight of that is different when it comes to him. Rhett has always been more of a slacks-and-nice-shirt guy, like Gregory.

“Nothing is wrong with me.” I’d rather get that out before he has the chance to ask because the question will just annoy me.

“I wasn’t going to ask. I am surprised you’re here, though.”

I shrug. “That makes two of us.” Probably not the best answer, but it’s honest.

“Our family doesn’t really work that way, does it?” He turns and begins walking away. “Come in if you want. I don’t care either way.”

“Careful, Rhett, or you’ll sound too much like me.” I close the door. “We were taught not to really care about each other, but to care about everything else—what people think, how we look to others, sounding polite and interested, when really all we do is think about ourselves.” That’s how Gregory has always been, how Rhett has been because of him.

“I don’t care about that anymore.” He picks up a stack of papers and slips them under his laptop, then closes it. “What are you doing here, East?”

I wring my hands, wishing I had a piece of paper so I could fold a butterfly to keep myself busy. It’s as good a distraction method as I’ve ever had. “I don’t know.”

His forehead wrinkles. Clearly, he didn’t expect that.

“I stopped by Gracie’s. Morgan’s got a lot of plans. He’s real proud of what he’s doing at the bar, and I just thought you might want to know.”

“The two of you are getting close. That’s good.” He looks down.

“I’m not sure how to do this, Rhett. It should be Morgan here, not me. I’m shit at stuff like this. I can’t tell how to comfort you or if you need it. I can’t say the right things, but…give Morgan a chance. He deserves it. You deserve it.”

His head snaps up, that curious look in his eyes. “What about you?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“We’re all brothers.”

I run a hand through my hair. “Just talk to Morgan.”

It surprises me when Rhett nods. I can’t say if that means he’ll actually do it, but I hope so.

Ask him if you can all do something together. You should all be together.

It’s more important for them, El, and you know it.

No. You’re important too.

And then, for some reason, I think about Archer. He would say the same. What is it with people in my life telling me stuff like that all of a sudden? Sure, one of them isn’t even alive and a lie I tell myself because I don’t know how to handle life without her, but still.

“Maybe we could all…do something. They’ll come over to see my dogs sometime. You could come too.” My stomach twists, the urge to pull back into myself, to take the words back and walk out the door tugging on me.

“Morgan hates me, even if he’s trying to act like he doesn’t. You’ve never wanted anything to do with me. You don’t have to pretend otherwise.”

Rhett stands and tries to walk past me, but I reach out and grab his arm. His words repeat through my head, creating a picture I’ve never seen before, one that’s not a Rhett I’ve ever imagined, yet more similar than I would have thought. Coming from someone else…it hurts to have them think of themselves that way. “You sound like me,” I say softly.

“What?”

We all sound like this, don’t we? All three of us have so much fucking anger, so much resentment at ourselves and each other, and none of us feel like we deserve anything more. Morgan is learning now because of Dusty, but Rhett and I, we’re still lost, kept afloat by a lifetime of a man breaking us down until we can’t help but hate ourselves and everything around us. How did I not see it before? I never thought I had anything in common with Rhett—Morgan either, but Rhett the least. In this moment, I realize I do. We’re tied together in our trauma, and it’s shaped many of our pieces to be the same.

“He’s fucked us up so much, Rhett.” It’s more than Gregory for me, of course, because it’s my fault Ella died, but the rest of it, it’s all on the man who was supposed to love us but never cared about anyone but himself. And I’m not sure if I deserve this, don’t know if I should be trying to…whatever the fuck this is I’m trying to do, but I don’t think I can stop myself.

“He did,” Rhett answers, not pulling out of my hold. Except for that night at the jail, it’s the first time he hasn’t automatically defended Gregory.

“You should meet the dogs.”

“Me, you, Dusty, and Morgan? That sounds like an accident waiting to happen.”

“Archer will be there too.”

He gives me that studying expression he’s so good at. He’s often the smartest person in a room, and he can make you feel like an experiment he’s trying to work out. This one I know is about Archer—take one mentally scarred man, and another who is probably the best damn person to ever live, and…

“When?”

“I don’t know yet.” I’m not sure how ready I am to do it ASAP, but it needs to be done.

“Sure, East. I’ll come,” he says softly before stepping away. This time, I let him.

This was enough for me today. My hands are shaking, heart beating too fast, emotions short-circuiting my brain. “I’ll let you know when,” I tell him, then walk out without another word.

The second I’m back in my truck, I pull a piece of paper from the glove box and begin folding a butterfly. As soon as it’s done, I fold another and another until I’ve been sitting there for who knows how long and I have a passenger seat full of butterflies. But it’s not enough, never enough.

My chest is heavy like there’s a weight on it. I want to go to a bar, go out and get drunk or cause trouble because it’s easier than feeling things. Want to drive too fast and dangerous for the rush. Risk myself because there’s no reason not to. Why shouldn’t I just be the fuckup everyone wants me to be rather than sitting here, trying to fix shit with my brothers and…Archer. I don’t want to disappoint him. Don’t want to give him a reason to not be friends with me anymore. Maybe he won’t walk away. Maybe if I can do the right thing, I won’t lose him.

Instead of going to the bar, I call him.

“Hey. You never just call. Is everything—”

“I want you.” I shake my head. “Shit. I’m sorry. You might be busy…at work or whatever and…I shouldn’t have called.” Yesterday he visited his sister after work, so maybe he’s doing that again.

“Yes, you should have. You can always count on me. I’ll always be there for you, and I’ll always want you too.”

Damned if I don’t want to believe him. What is it about Archer Thorn that reaches me at depths I didn’t know I had?

“Where are you?”

“About to leave Rhett’s. On my way home now.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“I…” Thank you. Why do you like me? How do I make sure I don’t lose you? Would you still like me if you knew I told Ella where to hide?

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. I want to be the person you call. And not only that, I want you to be the person I call too.”

I nod as if he can see me. It’s so hard after a lifetime of negative thinking, of cruel words being hammered into me, not to always envision worst-case scenarios, not to always think negatively about myself. But I want to change. Ella would want that for me…and Morgan does too. And Rhett, and Archer. “See you soon.” I end the call and drive home, pulse thumping too fast the whole way.

When I pull up in front of my house, Archer is already there. He’s leaning against his car, waiting for me, arms crossed. When I get out, he smiles. It’s so big, it nearly takes over his whole face, and all I can think is…how? How can someone be that happy just to see me?

I shake my head. “I don’t understand you.”

“But you called me, and you want me. You told me so. I’m gonna wear that as a badge of honor.”

I roll my eyes, but hearing him say that makes my heart grow. It had been shriveled up before, like a plant I never watered, that no one watered until Archer, and while it’s not thriving yet, I’m afraid to be hopeful that it’s coming back to life.

“I want your cock,” I tease, walking up to him and palming his bulge. Which is true, but that doesn’t feel like enough. I can’t wrap my mind around exactly what I’m feeling, what I can handle, but it’s not just the sex. “And no one else’s.” I nuzzle into Archer’s throat, and he tilts it, giving me access. “My head was fucked up…I wanted to do something reckless…but then I thought about you, and it helped. You always help. From that first night years ago when you sat in the dirt with me.” I kiss him, lick his collarbone. “I have no idea why you do it, but I’m so fucking thankful that you do.”

“Jesus, East.” He grabs my face and crushes our mouths together. My words were so simple, it makes me realize I don’t give him enough. I feel how much he appreciates them, how much he wants them in the sweep of his tongue and the eager, possessive way he kisses me. I vow to try and do better, to be the kind of person Archer deserves, and maybe he’ll want to keep me.

He nibbles my lip, then takes over my mouth again. I push closer, wishing there was a way I could sink inside him because Archer feels like the only safe place I’ve ever had.

I groan needily when his hands slide down my body, holding my ass. I want him to push inside me, fill me in the way he does that makes me feel less alone, like I’m connected to someone or something when my whole life has been spent untethered.

“You hungry for it? Your hole needy for me, good boy?”

“Yes. God yes.”

“Me too.” He unbuttons and unzips my jeans right there in the driveway, sucks his finger, then shoves his hand down the back of my pants. I spread my legs for him, Archer’s finger slipping between my cheeks to rub my rim. “This is what you need, isn’t it? I need it too.”

“Fuck,” escapes my lips when the tip of his finger pushes in. “Don’t know why having you inside me makes me feel this way.”

He slides it in and out. There’s not a whole lot of lubricant, and it’s a little rough, but damned if I don’t need it anyway, if it doesn’t make me feel good.

Archer cups my cheek with his other hand, angling my face so I’m looking at him. “You deserve to feel good. I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel that way.”

I nod. He will. I don’t doubt that, and right now, it doesn’t matter if I understand why. I just need it and want to find a way to earn it.

“My results came through,” Archer says. “Negative.”

“Yeah.” I nod. “Deeper. And me too. Negative.”

He pushes his finger in more, making me melt against him again. I wish we had lube. I’d let him take me right here. I could take him without it, but I know Archer won’t.

“So I get to fill you up with my cum? Get to know it’s leaking out of you all fucking night? Gonna mark up your insides, sweetheart, over and over again, so you always have a part of me with you.”

“Christ, Archer. Fuck me.”

“I will. I’m dying to take you raw.”

He pulls his finger out, the emptiness hitting me deep. I take his hand and pull him toward the house. The second I open the door, Pretty Girl and Casanova come running, jumping all over us and then heading straight for the yard.

“I don’t want to wait. I can’t,” I tell him, not even embarrassed by the neediness in my voice.

“Shit. Me neither. Can I fuck you right here? Take you on your porch hard and fast to take the edge off? You called me, East, and that means something to me. Once isn’t going to be enough tonight.”

The truth is, it’s not enough for me either. It never is with him.

“Fuck yes.” I pull my shirt over my head and toss it to the wood below. The porch runs the length of the front of the house, covered, but otherwise open.

Archer steps forward, swatting my hands away when I try to take off my jeans. When I drop my arms to my sides, he says, “Good boy,” and damned if I don’t feel like preening. He makes me feel good, makes me want to be good for him.

Archer takes my shoes off, then tugs my jeans and underwear down. He walks me over to the railing, taking my hands and placing them on top.

“Don’t move.”

There’s still lube in the living room, which I’m sure is what he’s going for. My cock aches while I wait for him, leaking and throbbing for the feeling that only Archer can give me.

When I hear a sound, I look over my shoulder, and he’s coming out of the house naked with a bottle in his hand.

“Look at you, staying right where I told you, ass out and waiting for me.”

“Hurry up,” I say breathlessly. The pressure is building inside me, this constant ache that eases when Archer is within me.

“I got you, East.” He steps up behind me, pumping lube onto his fingers while he kisses my shoulder.

Archer sets the bottle on the railing, then slips his fingers into my crease. The second he takes the first sweep over my hole, a lungful of air escapes me, like it’s been trapped and only Archer can set it free.

“I love how much you need it. Makes me feel like a fucking king.” He pushes his finger inside me, sliding it in and out.

“Two. I need two.”

He kisses my shoulder again, sucks on the skin there, then moves to the other side, where the butterfly tattoo is, and presses his lips there too, just before the second finger eases into me.

It makes my eyes sting, all this emotion I’ve spent a lifetime burying as deep as I could get it, coming to the surface.

“Again.”

He kisses it a second time, pushing his fingers in deep. They brush over my prostate, sending a wave of pleasure rushing down my spine.

He pulls out, then pushes back in, and there’s more pressure and stretching, what I assume is three fingers filling me. “You’re so good for me. You’re in my head all the time. I can’t stop thinking about you, wanting to be with you. I spent my whole life not realizing there was something always missing, but now I know it was you, sweetheart.”

A tear slips out of my eye, rolling down my cheek and landing on the wood between my hands. I’ve never in my life felt important, worthy of shit—at least not since Ella died—and while those feelings are still there, Archer is working some kind of magic on them. Making me feel and want things I never thought I could. Making me hope that maybe I can be better if I make someone like him feel this way.

“Fuck me. Please fuck me.”

When he pulls his fingers out, the emptiness is like an echo in my chest. He pumps lube onto his hand and slicks his cock, and then…then he pushes inside and the echo is silenced.

“So good. Love the feel of your tight hole around my cock.”

My hands fist on the railing as Archer slowly pushes inside. Why does this feel so good? So right?

The fullness somehow eases something inside me. It’s temporary. I get that. Archer can’t fix me, but for the first time in my life, I’m wondering if I can fix myself, want to find a way to do it.

When he’s all the way in, his groin against my ass, his arms wrap around me, mouth close to my ear. “Never felt anything like it. It’s like your ass was made for me.”

Maybe it shouldn’t, but hearing that makes me soar. I’ve spent so much of my life feeling worthless, but I was made for him, or at least part of me was.

“Want that,” I admit.

I swear a blast of heat radiates off him. “Fuck.” Archer pulls back, then snaps his hips forward again. He fucks into me hard and fast just like he promised. His cock hits my prostate over and over again, each time shooting me higher.

His arms encircle my waist, right hand wrapping around my cock. Archer strokes me as he thrusts into me, telling me how good I am, how good for him I am. The sounds of our fucking, bodies slapping and heavy breathing, mix with the outside noises, the dogs exploring the yard, the wind through the trees. Everything is brighter, hopeful. The moment feels like a kind of magic I never knew existed.

“You feel so good, East. Wanna always be inside you.”

“Me too.” I push back against him, pleasure filling me so much, it’s oozing out of my pores. The feel of his breath on my neck, his dick pounding my ass and his hand stroking my cock, is almost too much to handle, and maybe it is because a second later my orgasm slams into me, and there’s nothing I can do to hold it off. My dick jerks in his hand, balls rising as I spurt cum all over the porch.

“Fuck,” Archer grits out behind me, still fucking me through an orgasm like there’s a never-ending supply of cum. His teeth bite down on the spot where my shoulder meets my neck, as his cock twitches, his cum filling me with each spasm, Archer’s load right where it belongs.

We don’t move for a moment, the two of us just breathing together, while his dick begins softening inside me. I close my eyes when he pulls out, not wanting the emptiness to return, but then he’s pushing what feels like two fingers inside me. My hole is tender, but I don’t care. I want it, need it, Archer keeping his cum and another part of himself inside me.

“Thank you.”

“I should be the one saying that to you.” He uses his other hand to grab my face and turn my head to the side. “Thank you. I would stand here doing this all fucking night, and not because I think you need me, but because it’s where I want to be. I can’t wait until you see that, sweetheart.”

I’m starting to.

I want to.

He kisses me, silencing those voices that rarely leave my head, the ones that question everything and fear everything. It’s hard to feel anything except good when I’m with Archer Thorn.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Archer

We only stand there for about five minutes, my fingers stuffed in East’s ass, before the dogs decide it’s time to climb back onto the porch.

“I should get something to clean up this mess,” East says, both of us likely wanting to stay right here.

“I’ll get it.” I press another kiss to his lips, then step away, wishing I could still be inside him. I get a glass of water from the kitchen, then come back and wash away the cum from the porch.

From the moment East called until now, it had been one of the most intense afternoons of my life.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, picking up his clothes. “I can make dinner.”

“Can I help?”

His forehead wrinkles, but he nods.

We head inside, clean up in the bathroom, and he pulls on shorts. I have a bag I’ve kept in my car since staying here, so I put on my underwear, then tell him, “I need to get something from my car.”

I step into a pair of slides he keeps by the door, then head out. As I walk by his truck, I happen to glance to the side and see that the passenger seat is full of folded butterflies. Seeing them wraps around my heart, the way everything about East seems to do. I can’t help wondering if he’s ever seen a doctor or a therapist about everything he’s gone through. I’m certain he didn’t, not as a child, nor as an adult. It’s something he should do, but how do I suggest that without him thinking that I believe something is wrong with him?

I grab my bag from my car, along with the new 3D puzzle that had come in the mail. East is already in the kitchen when I go back inside.

“Alfredo okay with you?” he asks.

“I fucking love it. Sounds great.” I put on sleep shorts and leave the bag by the stairs, but bring the puzzle with me. “Look at this. If you’re interested, I thought we could do it together. I got a car since you work on them.”

He studies it. “You don’t have to share this with me. It’s your thing. You can do it alone if you want.”

This man breaks my heart. “I want to share it with you. You gave me a butterfly, and now I want to build a wooden car with you.” I don’t want to scare him, but the truth is, I want to do everything with East. Want to share everything with him.

“Okay.” He points to the sink. “Now wash your hands.”

I chuckle. “Yes, sir.” I go to the sink and do as he said. “How do we make dinner?”

“I hope you know you’re about to learn my secret recipe. You should feel lucky.”

“I do,” I reply, meaning that in more ways than one. East’s gaze snaps to mine, watching, studying, before he nods.

He walks me through every step, the two of us making chicken, fettuccini Alfredo, and a salad for dinner.

When it’s done, I feed the dogs for him, and then we sit at the table to eat together.

“I went and saw Rhett,” he says about halfway through the meal. Weeks ago, he never would have told me that, and I can’t help but swell with pride for him. “Shit. You know that. I said that’s where I was earlier.”

“I still want to hear about it if you’d like to share.”

He goes quiet for a moment, one of those where he’s lost in his head, and I wonder what’s going on there, before he replies, “It wasn’t anything special. I told him about Gracie’s…and said he should give Morgan a chance.”

“That was nice of you, supporting your brothers that way.” How did I live my whole life in this town and never saw how estranged the Swift brothers were?

“Like I said…it was nothing.” He takes another bite, chews, and swallows. “Invited him over here…when Morgan and Dusty come to see the dogs. Don’t know when yet, but he said he would come. Think I gotta work up to it.” Another bite, and he doesn’t make eye contact, but he’s letting me in. Easton is talking to me, and I want to jump for joy but also hate that it’s so hard for him. I also notice he still says they’re coming to see the dogs and not him.

“That’ll be nice. It’ll be good for you guys to spend some time together. I can tell how much Morgan and Dusty care about you. Rhett too, that night at the jail.” But I just don’t know Rhett as well as the others.

He shrugs, then twists some noodles around his fork. “I know you’re busy and stuff. You have work, and your family, and…hell, I don’t even know when, but…” Easton sighs, then looks up at me. “Will you be here too?”

“Yes. Fuck yes. I’d be honored to be here.” He rolls his eyes and tries to look away, but I reach out, take hold of his chin, and he lets me. “I’d be honored to be here, sweetheart. When I said always, I meant it.”

He offers another sigh. “I don’t know that anyone deserves you.”

My heart softens, that feeling inside me for East growing by the second. “I’m nothing special.”

“Yeah, you are.” Then he clears his throat and points to my plate. “Eat. You like it?”

“It’s fucking delicious.” We finish our meal without talking about anything serious, then take the dogs out, before East pulls a small card table from the garage and we set it up for the puzzle.

I open the box, and we pull out all the pieces and directions.

“Damn. This is hardcore.”

I snicker. “It is, but they’re fun. At least I think so. I feel rewarded when I finish, and once you get the hang of it, they’re pretty easy.”

And then…we sit side by side for hours, working on the puzzle. We talk about movies we like and cars he’s worked on, and I talk to him about my friendship with Cass and Meadow. It’s the easiest conversation we’ve had, one where nothing heavy comes up, and I feel a lightness in East that’s rare. These moments mean so much to me, I want to soak them in. The more I’m around East, the more I realize he’s what I want.

“I’m glad he’s good…about Meadow. Not everyone would be,” he says.

“No, they wouldn’t be. This world is fucked up that way. Just don’t get why we can’t hope everyone finds their happiness no matter what it looks like.”

“She’s a great kid.”

“Yeah, she is. There’s not a thing in the world Cass wouldn’t do for that girl. She’s his whole damn world—especially after April left. He stepped up to the plate in a way not many people would, and he does it easily.” I worry the conversation will take a more emotional turn, but I also don’t want to shut down anything East wants to talk about.

“Makes sense the two of you are so close. You’re both good men.”

It’s so damn hard to stop touching him sometimes, and part of me thinks East needs it, craves it, so I brush the back of my hand against his cheek. “So are you.”

He snaps his head toward my hand, and for a moment I think he’s mad, but he playfully bites my finger. A laugh tumbles out of my mouth, and then he lets my finger go and does the same. Easton laughing is a beautiful thing, throaty and sexy and filled with a kind of joy he deserves more of. And though I know he did it to change the subject about him being a good man, I still count it as a win. He heard me, and that matters, and he’s being playful with me, which matters too.

“We’re having a get-together at my parents’ house next weekend. Cora and her wife will be there. Simone’s pregnant—not sure if you know that. It’ll be fun. I’d like you there with me.”

He doesn’t say no, just leans back in the chair. “Won’t they wonder why I’m there?”

“I don’t care if they do. I’ll tell them you’re mine if you let me.” Because he is mine. There’s no denying that for me. I probably knew it that first night I found him in the woods. I can’t say if there will be any consequences, but I don’t care if there are. Cora’s right. That’s not how I work. “But if you want them to think we’re just friends, we can play it that way too. It’s always up to you, East.”

“Arch…they won’t think I’m good enough for you.” I hear his unspoken words, that he doesn’t think so either.

“They won’t think that. They’ll love you.”

“How can that be true? They know all the shit I’ve done. It’s not a secret in Birchbark that I’m a fuckup.”

“You’re not.” I turn my chair, then pull his closer so he’s between my spread legs. “You’re not,” I reiterate. “And I know you don’t want to talk about it, and I know you might not be ready, but I want to be with you, East. For real and officially. I want everyone to know you’re mine.” I want East. I care about him.

He closes his eyes, takes a moment to himself.

“Let me in. Let me know what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Would you still want to be with me if you knew I talk to my dead sister? That I hear her voice in my head? That most of the good shit I do is because she tells me to?”

My heart drops. This…could be big. I have no idea what it means, but the thought of hallucinations scares me. So many things make sense now—how he was talking to himself in the woods, the way he gets lost in his head. Is he having full-on conversations with her? “Do you see her?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not hallucinating, if that’s what you’re thinking. I know she’s dead. I know she’s not really there. I just…need her. And I know that’s fucked up, but I can’t figure out how to be without her. She’s all I have.”

This time, my heart breaks, just shatters into a million damn pieces, East’s name on every shard. “I can’t take her place, East, but you have me.” Who knows if that’s the right thing to say. What are you supposed to do when you find out a person talks to someone who isn’t there? I worry I’m in over my head, afraid that I’m going to do something wrong and East will suffer. But I can’t walk away either, and I don’t want to. “You have me, and I’m not going anywhere. Come to my parents’ house with me. I want you there.” I emphasize the last part so he knows that what he said doesn’t change anything for me. “They’ll want you there too.”

He sighs but nods in agreement. “Tell them we’re friends.”

I try not to let my disappointment show. “Okay. We can do that. Now come on. We can finish this later. I want to take you to bed.”

We let the dogs out again before heading upstairs. I fuck East, then push my fingers inside him, loving the feel of his cummy hole.

For the first time, he falls asleep before I do. I ease my fingers out of him, sneak into the bathroom, and wash my hands.

I don’t get any sleep, just lie in bed and watch him, knowing I’m in love with him. I was fooling myself to think this wouldn’t happen, never would have gone to talk to Cora about him if I wasn’t already falling. And my sister’s right: if work has an issue with it, would I really let that hold me back from someone I love? A job can’t hold me at night.

Still, I can’t help wondering if I’m enough for him, or if somehow, I’m going to hurt him even more than he already is.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Easton

It’s been a few days since I agreed to go to Archer’s parents’ house with him. He’s been coming to my place every day after work and sleeping over. He fucks me and fingers me and…talks to me. Makes me laugh. Plays with my dogs. Does puzzles with me. I keep watching him, looking at him for signs that he wishes he were somewhere else or that he’s getting tired of me, that he thinks something is wrong with me because of what I told him about El. Signs that he wishes he hadn’t asked me to hang out with his family. But no matter how hard I watch him, I don’t see any.

I can’t figure out why. And Ella’s been quiet lately—and yes, I’m aware that her voice is my voice, but it’s troubling me nonetheless. She’s been my conscience for so long, and this time, she didn’t have to talk me into agreeing to go with Archer. I’m not sure how to feel about that because I need to need her.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Dusty says, echoing my thoughts about Ella, as we work on a smashed-up Explorer.

“Why are you acting like that’s something new?”

He snickers, and I think again about how lucky us Swift brothers are to have him. He’s so easygoing, and really, has been the only positive constant in our lives, despite the few hiccups.

“Good point. I guess what I mean is, something is different. It seems like your mind is heavy, and I just want to emphasize that I’m here if you need to talk. I’m pretty good at that.”

Reflexively, I want to shut him down, to just talk to El instead or to keep it in, but sometimes holding it in is so fucking exhausting. I don’t talk to anyone, not really. I don’t even talk to Archer the way I should. Telling him about Ella is one of the only things I’ve admitted.

I don’t look at Dusty, finding the SUV very interesting as I speak. “I’m going to Archer’s parents’ house with him this weekend.”

“That’s a good thing, East. You’ll have fun. They’re great people.”

I nod. That’s not what has me all worked up, though. I don’t doubt them. I doubt me. “What if they think I’m not good enough to be Archer’s…friend.” Jesus. I can’t believe I said that. I sound like a damn kid. But at twenty-seven, this is something I’ve never done.

“They won’t think that. I know it.”

“That’s what Archer said.” I sigh, wring my hands. My insides are jittery and have been for days. But that’s how I know this moment is big too, me talking to Dusty this way. “This stuff is so fucking hard. Why am I trying to do it all of a sudden?”

He comes over and puts his hand on my shoulder. “I think that’s happening for a lot of reasons. You like Archer, and he likes you. This is a good step. You deserve a whole lot more happiness than you’ve ever allowed yourself to have. Maybe you’re starting to see that.”

For the first time, I think I want to see that. The truth is, I do like Archer. As frightened as I am, I want to be with him, and that does make me want to be better.

“I’m proud of you, East. That you’re letting Archer in. Did you know that Rhett stopped by Gracie’s to see Morgan yesterday?”

My gaze snaps up at the news. “He did?”

“Yeah, it was only for a few minutes, but it’s a start. I called Rhett afterward, and he said you’d been to see him, that you told him to talk to Morgan. That one move had so much power. I think it helped open Rhett’s eyes. You don’t see it, East, but you have so many people around you that love you.”

He’s right. And I do see it, or I’ve started to lately, at least when it comes to my brothers, Dusty, and Archer. I don’t think he’s in love with me, but he cares about me. It’s just… “Don’t know how to accept it. I’m trying, though.”

“I know you are.”

He wraps his arms around me in a hug, and I let him, hug him back even, but then start to feel awkward and unsure, so I say, “So…I heard not too long ago that you fucked my…” Shit. My what? Archer isn’t my anything. We haven’t put a name on it. Would I want to call him my boyfriend? I would. “Archer. I think it’s his magic dick.”

Dusty pulls away, laughing. “Christ, East. Only you. And give yourself some credit. It’s not his dick that’s magic, but the way he makes you feel in here.” He pats over my heart. “You know that was nothing, though, right? With me and him. Whatever you two have going, it doesn’t take a genius to see it’s more.”

It is. I can’t deny that. “I can’t get upset about things that happened in his past. How is that fair?” And then, because my chest is lighter than it typically is, I find myself saying, “Just don’t think you can do it again.” Archer is mine. I don’t want to share him.

He holds up his hands in surrender and smiles. “I have my man. There’s no one for me but Morgan.”

Which I don’t doubt. They’ve always been meant to be, and damned if I don’t wonder if there’s some way Archer and I can be too. “Thank you,” I say softly. “For…being my brother.” Because really, that’s what Dusty has been to me. He was right there with Morgan and Rhett when they were taking care of me and El, and then just taking care of me. And even when things were rocky between Dusty and Morgan, or me and Morgan and Rhett, Dusty was always there for me too. He gave me a job and dealt with all my shit. As good a man as Archer is, Morgan found one who’s just as incredible.

“You’re welcome, East.” His voice cracks with emotion. “Thank you for being my brother too.”

I turn away, trying to hide all this damn emotion I’ve been feeling lately. “That’s enough mushy stuff.”

Dusty laughs, and I can’t help but join him.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Archer

I can tell East is nervous, and honestly, I am too. I’m fairly certain our reasons are different, though. I just want everything to be perfect for him today. I want him to have fun and feel loved. Like he has a family in his corner because that’s what my family will become to him. Once they get to know him, they’ll fall for him like I have, and even if things don’t work out between us, we’re connected for life, like Cora said. They will always be good to East.

“You okay?” I ask. We took my car, and East is in the passenger seat, folding one of his butterflies. He brought paper with him that he has in his back pocket.

“Yep.”

His one-word answer doesn’t sound too convincing. I’m so damn curious to ask him about the Ella thing too, but we haven’t talked about it since the night he told me. I’ve done some research, and I wonder if he has some kind of PTSD from what happened with Ella. East seems to have a lot of the symptoms—negative thoughts about himself, difficulty with close relationships, mood swings, self-destructive behaviors—and I read that some people have auditory hallucinations. Though in this case, he said he knows she’s not really there.

And despite him never mentioning it, I’ve stayed with him enough to see that he doesn’t sleep well, sometimes making noises and mumbling to the point where I wonder if he’s having nightmares. That usually stops when I pull him into my arms.

On the other hand, what the hell do I know? I’m not a psychiatrist.

“East?”

“Hmm?” He turns to me, all blue eyes and fear.

“You’re a good boy, coming with me today. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

I swear it looks like he melts in response, like me saying that builds him up and helps him fight back some of that fear.

“Your good boy,” he says, making my heart swell. That’s the last thing I ever expected him to say to me.

“Yes. Fuck yes.” I reach over, threading our fingers together, holding his hand until I have to pull into the driveway of my childhood home.

“Meadow and Cass will be here?” he asks as I park.

Cass had called when I was with East to ask what I was doing this weekend. When the topic came up about them joining us, something they’ve often done, it was actually East who said they should. I’m not sure if that was the best decision, but it seemed to take some of the pressure off him, so I’m all for that.

“Yeah, and Miss Meadow has a surprise for you.”

He frowns. “Wait. What? For me? What is it?”

“I can’t tell you, sweetheart. Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He nods before I get serious for a moment. “If you want to leave, tell me. You need a minute to yourself, you can take one, okay?”

“Why do I like it when you do that with me?”

“Care about you? That’s all I’m doing, East.”

“Seems like it should make me feel weak, but it doesn’t.”

“Letting someone care about you is the least weak thing you can do.” I cup his cheek the way I like doing. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“Let’s go before your family wonders what we’re doing out here,” he replies, and I let it go.

The second I knock on the door, it’s immediately pulled open. It doesn’t surprise me to see my sister standing there. “Hey, big brother.” She gives me a hug before turning her attention to East. We’re a family of huggers, and I made sure to tell them to go easy on East—to try and read him or ask him before they did anything that could make him uncomfortable. “Hi, Easton. It’s good to see you. In case you didn’t know, I’m the cooler Thorn sibling.”

He chuckles as I roll my eyes. “She wishes.”

“She seems pretty cool to me,” East replies, and I have to bite my cheeks so I don’t smile too big. I love him joking around with her this way.

“Hey. Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” I tease, then tell my sister in the same playful voice, “Move your butt out of the way and let us inside.”

Mom, Dad, and Simone are all waiting in the living room. “Hi, son.” Dad hugs me, then holds his hand out for East. “Good to see you, Easton. We’re glad you could join us.”

“Thanks for having me,” he replies, not making eye contact, but it’s a start.

“I’m cooking sauce. I hope you brought your appetite,” Mom tells him.

“She’s Italian, which means she shows her love with food.” I nudge him with my arm. “East is a good cook too. He’s been trying to teach me a thing or two.”

She looks at East. “Does it work? Because it was hopeless when I tried.”

East chuckles. “He does all right.”

“Hey, now. Just all right? First you take Cora’s side and now my mom’s.”

“Smart boy,” Mom tells him, and I know it’s killing her not to hug him, but she doesn’t.

“I’m sorry I’m not getting up to say hello. I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m as big as the house, and it’s a lot of work to move,” Simone says from the chair where she’s sitting.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to get up.” East walks over to her, my sister moving to sit on the arm of the chair. “I’m Easton.” He shakes Simone’s hand. In a town like Birchbark, they’ve heard of each other, but they never met.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Cora says. “We have about nine weeks to go before this little baby joins us.” She rubs Simone’s belly, the pride she feels shining out of her.

“You don’t have to answer that. I’m sure being with Archer you know how they are, always so damn sweet.” Simone looks at my sister with love in her eyes.

“They’re friends, baby, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Cora says.

Hearing her say that makes my chest burn. East isn’t just my friend. I have to hold myself back from saying so.

“You’re, um…you are beautiful. And congrats, on the baby. Archer will be a great uncle.”

Damned if hearing that doesn’t make me feel ten feet tall. “Thank you.” I put my hands on his shoulders, standing behind him. Is that too much? Hell, I don’t know the etiquette here, so I pull back just as there’s another knock on the door.

“That’ll be Cass and Meadow. I’ll get it,” Mom says. She goes to the door, and there’s hugging and chatter, before my best friend and his daughter come into the room. Dad and Cora hug them both, before Cass goes over and kisses Simone’s cheek and gives her a hug too. There’s a closeness with my family and Cass, a familiarity that I want so damn much for them to have with East.

“How are Pretty Girl and Casanova doing?” Meadow asks East, holding a gift bag.

“Good. He’s a whole lot more comfortable now. She’s teaching him the ropes.”

“Easton adopts dogs no one else wants. He doesn’t care if they have stuff wrong with them. Dad said maybe we can do that too.” Meadow beams proudly.

“Aww,” Simone says. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“They’re lucky to have you.” Mom smiles at East.

“Nah, it’s me who’s lucky to have them.” His response makes me want to pull him into my arms and kiss him.

“I made these for them.” Meadow hands him the bag, East looking at me, then at her, like he’s not sure what to do. He knows she was bringing him something, but it’s almost like he thought it was a joke, like she would change her mind and not do it.

“Um. Thank you.” He pulls the first dog shirt out of the bag.

“I had Uncle Archer measure them when you weren’t looking, so they should fit. I made them with my sewing machine. It’s for them to wear when it gets cold.”

They’re matching shirts, each with their names on them, with matching ruffles at the end.

“Uncle Archer said you wouldn’t care if Casanova’s has ruffles too. Boys can like ruffles.”

East grins. His hands are shaking. I’m not sure if anyone else notices it, and my own twitch, wanting nothing more than to reach for him.

“Yeah,” he finally replies. “Boys can like ruffles. These are amazing. Thank you for thinking of them.”

Cass squeezes his daughter’s shoulder, clearly proud of her.

“You’re welcome.”

“Maybe you can come over with Archer sometime and see the dogs in them.”

We talked about her spending time with them before, but it never happened.

Meadow grins. “Ooh, can I, Dad? Uncle Archer?”

“You can come too,” East tells Cass. “Or if you want me to bring them to you or something, we can do that.”

I see the moment it dawns on Cass that East thinks Cass might not trust him, like he’s afraid the trouble East has gotten into will come back to hurt Meadow. “She can come over if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” East replies. I wonder if he realizes how incredible this is. The fact that he’s here with my family, that he invited Meadow over to play with the dogs, and that he’s planning on having Morgan, Dusty, and Rhett over too.

When everyone loses themselves in conversation again, I whisper in his ear, “Good boy,” and to my surprise, he takes my hand in his, giving it a brief squeeze before pulling away.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Easton

I don’t talk much as the family sits around the living room, chatting. They ask me questions and pull me into the conversation. When they do, I respond as I should, but I don’t think anyone would ever call me chatty.

I can’t stop thinking about the gift bag at my feet, what Meadow made for the dogs. The fact that I said she could come over with Archer and that Cass doesn’t mind. Also, the feel of Archer’s thigh pressed against mine, something he’s been sure to do the whole time. He’s stayed close to me, supported me, and it feels so damn good.

Dinner is delicious. Daphne’s a good cook, and again around the table, they tease Archer about how bad he is.

“He’s learning,” I say, despite having called him just all right earlier. I was teasing then at first, but now, even though I know they’re joking too, I want to defend him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He winks, and my heart races. I wait for them to look at him funny for calling me that, but no one seems to notice or care.

After dinner, they decide we should all go into the backyard. They have a basketball court, and everyone shoots around, even Simone, but I linger on the sidelines, watching them. It feels like I’m in a TV show or book. I’ve heard of families like this, and Dusty’s is similar, but it’s different seeing it. How sad is it that it doesn’t feel real to me?

El?

Try and have fun, East, is all she says, making me shift uncomfortably. I pull one of the squares of paper from my pocket and begin folding a butterfly for her.

Daphne throws an airball, and the others tease her, before she says, “I need a break. You all are mean!”

I tense up when I notice her walking toward me. Archer looks my way, but I shake my head, telling him I’m fine.

She sits in the chair beside me, the two of us shaded from the house. “I know we said so earlier, but we appreciate your coming today.”

“Thank you for having me.”

She nods, and we watch the others for a moment. I don’t have to look to fold the butterflies at this point, and as soon as I’m done with one, I start another.

“You make him happy…I can tell.”

I want that. I want it so fucking much, even if I shouldn’t. And I know I told him we had to say we’re just friends, but no one at this house is stupid. They all know, and they don’t seem to care, so I admit, “He makes me happy too. He’s…good. Better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, he is. I’m proud as hell of him—of Cora too. They’re good people, and they attract good people.”

My pulse races, throat feeling full. She’s trying to tell me she approves, that she thinks I’m good, and it doesn’t matter that she’s only saying that because Archer believes in me. It means something to me, more than I know how to say. “Thank you,” is all I can manage.

“That’s all most parents want, ya know? For our kids to be happy.”

That isn’t what Gregory wants, and though I never knew my mom, I have to believe it’s how she would have felt. “Did you know her? My mom?” As silly as it sounds, it takes me a moment to realize the words came from me.

“A little bit. I know she was kind. She cared about everyone. She saw things in people that others didn’t. And I know she loved her kids more than anything in the world. If you’re wondering about her, all that would have mattered to Allison is your happiness.”

I look down this time while working on the butterfly.

“I ran into her once when she was pregnant with you and Ella. She was getting ice cream with Rhett and Morgan. It’s before she got put on bed rest, and she just beamed the whole time she talked about her kids. It’s funny because we didn’t know each other well, but I remember her talking to me as if we were good friends. She told me she wanted to name you Easton, and she said, That’s a good, strong name, don’t you think? I’m not sure why that stuck with me over the years, but it has. And I hope this doesn’t make me sound like a creepy old lady, but I’ve always felt a connection to you after that conversation. Who knows if she’d had Ella’s name at that point yet, but she knew yours, and she shared it with me. Makes this whole friendship with you and Archer feel a little more special.”

My heart bangs against my chest, nearly breaking through to spill into my lap. Mom had told her my name. Daphne had liked her…and she’d always felt a connection with me. It makes me feel warm and bright, like there’s this light inside me that was dim before. I owe her something in return, but it doesn’t feel like a debt as much as something I want to share. “We’re more than friends,” is what I land on first.

She pats my thigh. “I know, sweetie. A mom always knows.”

“I figured, but I wanted to say it.” We’re both quiet for a moment, and then, as if she’s somehow unlocked something inside me, something that makes me feel closer to my mom than I ever have, I admit, “I remember you…with Ella. You hugged me…told me you were sorry, that it would be okay.” That’s not something I’ve ever let myself think about, not something I’ve shared with Archer. I’m so bad at that, talking about all the shit inside me. I can share it with El, but maybe it’s time I start trying to figure out how to share it with more people.

It’s not until a drop of moisture hits the butterfly in my hand that I realize I’m crying.

“Oh, Easton. I didn’t want to say anything. I thought so much about you over the years. That was one of the hardest days of my life. You have never left my mind since. Maybe this is weird, or hell, maybe it was meant to be, but you always have a place here with us. It just feels right.”

“I…thank you.” I swipe my hand over my eyes to wipe away the moisture, ignore the tension in my gut, and lean over, giving her a quick hug. When I pull back, I set one of the folded butterflies in her hand.

Then I stand up and walk toward Archer, and for the first time in my life, I have some small idea of what it’s like to have a mom.

“Are you going to play with us, Easton?” Meadow asks.

“Yeah, come play with us,” Archer says, and though I’ve never done something like this, I agree.

We play basketball for a good half hour before heading inside for dessert. When we’re finished, Cora says, “We should get home. I have to work tomorrow.”

Archer approaches Simone before his sister, hugging her and then whispering something to her baby belly. It makes my stomach shaky when I watch him.

“We should probably head out too,” Archer says, followed by Cass. Simone and Cora leave, and then we say our goodbyes to Archer’s folks, Cass and Meadow walking out with us.

“Thanks for having us,” Cass tells Archer. “And it was good seeing you, East. Look forward to doing it again.”

“Thanks. Me too,” I say and mean it.

I tense when Meadow gives me a hug goodbye. Without letting myself think about it too much, I open my hand, the second of the two butterflies I folded resting on my palm. “I thought you might want this.”

“Wow. Did you make this? It’s so cool! Thank you, Easton.” This time when she hugs me, my body isn’t too tight at all…and I even hug her back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Archer

“I hope my mom didn’t bother you,” I tell East as I drive us back to his place. I don’t think she did. I tried to give them their privacy and respect that East doesn’t need me to coddle him, but I couldn’t help peeking over at them. They’d been in a serious conversation, and he’d wiped his eyes, but then he’d hugged her. It had been quick, but seeing it damn near lit my soul on fire.

“She didn’t. She’s…great. She shared a really cool story about my mom. Daphne saw her at the ice cream parlor with Morgan and Rhett. She was pregnant with me, and she talked to your mom about my name. It…hell, Arch. It made me feel close to her—both your mom and mine.”

I swear it’s like my heart explodes hearing that. Everything with East hits differently that way. “She never told me that. I’m glad they had that moment, glad she shared it with you.”

“Because of you,” he replies, turning to look at me as I pull down his driveway. “I can’t… I don’t… Everything is different because of you. I keep waiting for something to go wrong.”

I park the car and turn it off quickly. “Hey, no. Nothing’s going to go wrong. You got me, East. You didn’t try, but you got me hooked, and that’s never gonna change. Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together. I can’t fix the world for you, but I can promise you’ll never have to face anything alone anymore.”

This time, it’s East reaching for me, his hands holding my face as he pulls me closer, our lips connecting with a spark. He leads the way, his tongue exploring my mouth, feeding me needy little sounds. The press of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, tells me East isn’t ready to use words yet. I feel it in the way he holds me, the way he devours me, that this is more than just physical want. He doesn’t need words to tell me what I feel to the marrow of my bones—that Easton Swift loves me too. And hopefully, he’s on the way to loving himself.

He presses his forehead to mine, our lips a breath apart. “I need you real bad.”

“I need you too. I’m always going to need you.”

He brushes the tips of his fingers down the side of my face, making me shiver. “When you say things, I believe you. I’ve never trusted anyone until you. Not since Ella.”

“Jesus, I love you.” I see the flash of surprise in his gaze before I smash our mouths together, tasting him as thoroughly as he’d just done with me. My dick is already like a steel pole between my legs, so damn hard and achy for him. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

He trembles. “Yes. Fuck yes.”

“I want you to go upstairs and get yourself ready for me. I’ll let Pretty Girl and Casanova out, and then I’ll come up.” After the day we’ve had, I want to give him time to get cleaned up before I fuck him so hard, we become one.

“Okay. Let’s go.” He rushes out of the car like the damn thing is on fire. I can’t help laughing as I run after him, enjoying his moment of carefree joy. I want to find ways to give him more moments like this.

The dogs immediately begin jumping on him, loving him and missing him the way East hasn’t allowed any person to love him in a long time…until me. “I love you both, but I gotta go. Arch will take care of you.”

That simple statement hits me right in the heart.

“Come on, guys,” I call them over as East heads upstairs. They give me a few minutes of love too before I lure them outside, and then they take off to do their business.

My body’s jittery with an anxious electricity that only being inside East can tame. Still, I don’t rush the dogs, giving them time to stretch their legs and for East to do his thing.

When they come back inside, I take off my shoes, wash my hands, then head upstairs.

East is lying on his back. He’s hard and stroking himself, his head turned slightly so he’s facing me, lips parted. My breath catches, seeing him this way, laid out, all that tattooed skin on display, and waiting for me.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come.”

“I’ll always come for you.” I tug my shirt off and drop it to the floor, walk toward him while I unbutton and unzip my jeans, then remove those and my underwear. I’m only at half-mast now, having gone soft while I was downstairs, but seeing East is bringing me to life again.

I wrap my hand around myself and give a gentle stroke. When I get to the bed, East’s hand shoots out and stops me before I can climb on. “Don’t move.”

He leans over to the side of the mattress and wraps his warm, wet mouth around my cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” My eyes roll back, and I drop my hand to his head, holding him and guiding him while East sucks me.

It doesn’t take long for what feels like all the blood in my body to rush to my cock, making it swell and harden and pulse with want for him.

“That’s it. So fucking good for me. You’re mine, East. I’m never letting you go.”

He sucks me down hungrily, like my words spur him on, making him want to show me that he’s mine, and that I’m his too. He pulls off to bury his face in my nuts, inhaling and licking, sucking them like his damn life depends on it before swallowing around my cock again. I thrust my hips, fuck into him slow and deep, gaze never leaving East as he gives himself to me.

“Fuck. You’re gonna make me come. I want my load in your ass. Want to push my fingers inside after I fuck you and keep my cum there.”

He pulls off with a needy groan. “Jesus, hurry up and fuck me.”

“I’m getting there. Turn over. Let me eat that pretty ass of yours first.”

East gets on his hands and knees. The lube is already on the nightstand for later. I climb on behind him and spread his cheeks. “Good boy,” I tell him and watch his body move as the shudder races through him. “Look at you all eager to give me this hole.” I circle it with my finger. “It’s mine now, East. Just like the rest of you.”

“God yes.” His hole tightens and loosens again.

Need shoots lightning down my spine, and I can’t hold back anymore from leaning over and flicking my tongue over his rim. East pushes back against my face like he’s dying for it, my tongue lashing at him, swipe after swipe. I want to devour him, push my tongue inside him and fuck him with it. Make his ass feel as owned by me as I feel owned by East.

Breathy sounds fall from his lips as I eat him, softening him and pushing at him until I can work my tongue partway inside. I wish I could spend the rest of the night right here, face in his ass and showing him with my mouth how much I need him.

But it’s not enough. I’m not sure if it will ever be enough.

“Fuck, you taste good.” I run my teeth over the curve of his ass cheek, nibbling and kissing it, then licking up and down his crease before landing at his hole again.

“Christ. I can’t…don’t want you to stop, but I need you inside me. Please, Archer. I want you. Want it all.”

His words electrify me. Pulling back, I grab the bottle of lube and slick my fingers.

“You need this?” I tease his rim.

“You know I do.”

“Not as much as me.” I push inside, feel all that tight heat around me, fucking him with one finger, then two. East pushes back against me, like he’s trying to take more of me inside, all of me, like I’m an extension of him and he’s not complete unless I’m inside him. “You like my fingers, don’t you?”

“Yes. Give me another.”

I push a third inside, watching his body stretch to accommodate me, see his pink rim open up for me just right. I twist my fingers, stretching him, cock pulsing with the need to be inside him.

When East lets out a rushed, “Fuck me. I need your dick inside me,” I nearly shout with the need to possess him.

“Turn over. I want to look in your eyes while I take you.”

East does as he’s told while I pump more lube onto my cock. I lift his legs over my shoulders, his blue gaze intense on mine as I push inside.

“That’s it. Look at you taking my cock so well. I belong inside you, don’t I?”

“Yesss…makes me feel like I belong to you…want that. Want to belong.”

“Fuck, sweetheart. You do.” I keep feeding my cock into him until my groin touches his ass, until I’m filling him as deep as I can go. “Not just here, though…everywhere, all the time.”

Leaning down, I press my lips to his before pulling back, then fuck into him hard and fast again.

“Just like that,” he tells me. I continue fucking into him, taking him, showing him he’s mine. His ass is so damn tight, like it was made for my cock. My name falls from his lips when I pump into him, his dick hard and leaking against his belly.

I take him fast, then slow, just loving the feel of his body wrapped around mine, of his ass squeezing my cock. He moves with me, hands running up and down my torso, watching me so damn steadily in this way that makes me feel like the most important person in the world. If East can look at me this way? That has to mean something.

“I want to ride you,” he says, making my dick twitch inside him to the point where I almost shoot right then. “Want to ride you until you fill me up. Need your cum inside me, then your fingers.”

“God yes.” I pull out, which about kills me, my dick protesting the loss of East’s body. As soon as I’m on my back, he’s straddling me, lowering his ass onto my cock and making me moan and arch toward him. “That’s it. Good boy. Take my cock deep into your ass.”

With his hands on my pecs, East fucks himself on me, digging his nails into my skin as he takes his pleasure from my dick. His face is filled with so many emotions—pleasure, wonder, confusion, love. I hold his waist, let him take what he needs from me as I fight the pressure building inside me to let loose and come.

“Why do you feel so good?” He drops his head back, the long column of his throat on display.

“Because it’s right, East. We’re right.”

His gaze snaps to mine, body movements sharper, needier. I fuck up and into him, the two of us meeting right at the point of ecstasy. Before I can even wrap my hand around his cock, East’s ass is tightening, his hole spasming, while his cock jerks and he shoots cum all over his stomach and mine.

It’s enough to send me into a tailspin too, balls rising, an explosion of color dancing in my vision as I lose my battle and spurt my cum inside him.

The second we’re both done, I roll him off me, push his legs up, and lash my tongue over his puffy rim, taking some of the cum that’s spilled from him onto my tongue. Leaning over, I kiss him with my load, then push two fingers into his body, tongue in his mouth while I alternate between fingering him slowly and just letting my digits sit inside him.

When I try to roll off him, he says, “Don’t take them out yet.”

I kiss his cheek, his temple, help maneuver him so he faces me, both of us on our sides, one of his legs hooked over my hip, my fingers buried in his ass. “I’m not. I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes drift closed, a soft smile on his lips.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Easton

“Ella? Ella?” I say my sister’s name into the room. Is it a room? I don’t think so… I think it’s my head. Like somehow, I’m inside my brain, all these doors around me, and I can’t find Ella.

I run to the first and pull it open. “El?” I shout into the empty space, but she’s not there. My heart stops. My stomach cramps. Door after door after door, each room is empty. No matter how many times I say her name, she doesn’t answer.

There’s a flash, a blinding light, and suddenly, I’m not adult me anymore. I’m nine years old and begging Morgan to play hide-and-seek with us.

“I don’t feel like it.”

“Please? We’re bored. There’s no one to play with.”

“Because of course, Rhett isn’t here,” Morgan says. Dad and Rhett are always off doing something. Dad is super excited that Rhett is going to Harvard like him, and that means Morgan will have to stay because of me and Ella. I could take care of us if they’d let me. That way Morgan wouldn’t have to. “Never mind. It’s fine.”

“Shit,” he curses. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. Yeah, fine. I’ll play with you.”

I’m about to tell him he doesn’t have to, but Ella says, “Yay!”

“I’m gonna count from here. Go hide,” Morgan says.

I take Ella’s hand, the two of us running for the stairs. I’m so lucky to have her. Rhett and Morgan fight so much, but not me and Ella. We’re the same in almost everything. She’s my other half, like it would be impossible to be an East without an Ella. When I get sad about how Dad is mean to me or doesn’t talk to me, it’s Ella who always makes me feel better.

“I don’t know where to hide,” Ella says as soon as we get downstairs. I want to find the best spot for her. I like it when she wins things. It makes me feel good.

“Ooh! I know. You can lie down in the boat tied to the dock. Morgan will never think to look there!”

She beams at me, blue eyes just like mine. “Okay!”

I run out to our dock on Birchbark Lake. It’s right behind our house. We’ve spent our whole lives in the water here.

I hold El’s hand while she gets inside, then wait while she lies down. “Thanks, East. You’re the best. I love you.”

“I love you too.” More than anything. More than myself. I know the stories, how much Mom wanted her. She’d always wanted a daughter, and though El didn’t get to know her either, somehow having my sister feels like having a part of Mom.

I run to the boathouse and hide inside. I wait to hear Morgan come looking. We always hide here, so I know he’ll find me, but he doesn’t come. Why isn’t he coming?

It feels like an eternity, and I wait, ready for him to find me and then be impressed with Ella’s hiding spot.

Minute after minute goes by…too many. No way Morgan wouldn’t have found me yet.

I take one step toward the door, and suddenly black flashes in my vision. My stomach seizes, and my chest feels tight, too tight. I suck in a sharp breath, but I can’t get air into my lungs. Why can’t I breathe?

I stumble and fall, trying and failing to pull air into my lugs. My vision swims, stomach heaving like I’m going to throw up…

Ella.

No, no, no, no. I push to my feet, stumble again. I’m dizzy, keep almost falling off my feet as I look out at the water.

The boat is tipped over, and in that second, my heart breaks. Stops beating, and I know, feel the loss of myself as it happens, as I break apart, all the important parts of me drifting away onto the wind.

“Ella!” I scream and run toward the water, just as Morgan comes bolting out of the house.

“Easton! What’s wrong? Where’s Ella?”

Gone. She’s gone.

I’m gone.

Who am I without her?

“Ella! No!” I run and jump into the water, black all around me as I try to find her. Ella! Where are you? Please don’t go! Not without me! I say over and over in my head.

There’s a splash, and I know it’s Morgan. He tries to grab me, but I fight him off, my brother pulling me to the surface.

“Stop fighting me!” he shouts.

“Ella! Ella! Ella!” I try and jerk out of Morgan’s hold, try to get away from him and find her.

There is no me without her. Where is she? Who am I?

What have I done?

“Stop. I’ll get her, East. I promise you, I’ll get her.”

And then…nothing. It’s like everything inside me shuts off. Somehow, I’m on the dock. I don’t know how Morgan did that.

Flash.

She’s there, lying on the dock. Not breathing. Not speaking.

I wrap my arms around her. “Ella! Wake up. Don’t go. Please don’t go. Not without me.”

Morgan pushes me out of the way and does chest compressions. “Go call 911!”

I can’t move. Can’t leave her.

“Easton! Go now!”

I run into the house, tears streaming down my face, soul gone. I call, then go back to Ella. Morgan is still trying to get her heart to start, trying to help her breathe while he’s crying.

It doesn’t work. The EMTs try to take her, but I cling to her, whispering in my head over and over that I’ll never, ever let her go. They try to ask me questions, but I can’t speak. A nice woman tries to hug me, tells me it will be okay, but it will never be okay again.

I’ll never let her go, I vow silently to myself.

“East! Wake up. Sweetheart, you’re having a nightmare.”

My eyes jerk open. My face is wet, chest heaving, stomach clenched so tight it hurts….and Archer is there, panic and worry and…he’d told me earlier he loved me. I should have said it back. I should have acknowledged it, but I was scared. He’s here, always here, clinging to me, afraid for me, there for me.

And all I can do is burst into tears. He pulls me into his arms, lies back with me tucked into his embrace. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, East. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

I hold on to him too, grab him and don’t want to let go, the same way I hadn’t with Ella that day. He’s the first person since her I’ve held and known that I can’t let go of.

“I’m here. I love you. I’ve got you.”

He talks to me while I cry, while without words I spill a lifetime of pain onto his chest with my tears. Time passes. Maybe thirty minutes or thirty hours, but Archer doesn’t ever loosen his hold, doesn’t ever stop showing me he’s there for me, until eventually there’s no more tears left in me.

“It was my fault. Ella…it was my fault she died.”

“You were a kid, East. It was an accident. That’s not your fault.”

“I told her where to hide,” I admit, so damn ashamed. “I walked her over, helped her in. Left her.”

He tilts my head so I look at him, Archer on his back and me half on my side and chest. “It still wasn’t your fault. It’s the worst thing that could have happened to you, but it was an accident. Maybe she would have decided to hide there anyway, or maybe if she hadn’t, something bad would have happened another way. It sucks, but that’s life sometimes. That doesn’t mean it was your fault. It was a tragedy, and I hate that you experienced it, but you can’t punish yourself for an accident.”

“It should have been me.”

He stiffens beneath me. “No. Don’t say that.”

“Everyone knows it should have been me. My own father says it. He’s told me more than once. I’m a disgrace. I’m fucked up. Hell, if you ask him, I’m not even a Swift anymore. He said so himself. He blames me for Mom and for Ella. All I do is drag people down, and if you were smart, you’d get the fuck away from me before I drag you down too!”

I try to pull away again, but Archer doesn’t let go of me, just keeps proving that no matter what, he’ll always be there. I don’t have it in me to put up much of a fight, so I just melt against him, let myself have this, even though I’m still unsure how to deserve it.

“Does your dad… Has he really said those things to you?”

“I told you he hates me, Arch. He’s always hated me. He loves Rhett because Rhett did everything in his power to be just like him, to make him happy. He loves Morgan because he’s smart and accomplished and maybe because of how much Mom loved Morgan. Rhett used to tell me how close they were. He loved Ella because she was the baby girl Mom always wanted, the dream child. I was the extra, and I’ve never been what he wanted. The fact that he didn’t care about me at all turned to hate after Ella.”

Archer’s hold on me tightens, his body vibrating like he can hardly contain himself.

“Fuck Gregory for saying those things to you. Something is wrong with him, East. Not you. Christ, I want to fucking kill him for making you feel that way.” He breathes in and out for a moment, as if trying to get himself under control. “Look at me,” he commands. When I don’t, he says, “Look at me,” again, his voice too hurt for me to deny him.

“I told you already tonight, but I’m going to keep saying it again and again. I love you. I’m in love with you, and it’s because of your heart, because of who you are. You’re good to Meadow. You take in animals others throw away. You love those dogs with your whole damn heart. You try to bring Rhett and Morgan together. You love your sister so fucking much, and she knew it. She loved you too. If Gregory doesn’t see how fucking incredible you are, that’s on him. Not you.”

I want to believe him so much, and part of me does—that’s the magic of who Archer is. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not. I know I’m not.”

I bury my face into his neck, breathe him in, try to find that part of me that wants to be more like him. “The thing with your cousin…with Travis. That wasn’t your fault either.”

He sighs. “No, it wasn’t. And I get it, that it’s hard to feel pain about something without taking the guilt too. Ella was an accident, and Travis made his choices. Maybe we could work on forgiving ourselves together.”

I like the sound of that.

“Together.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Archer

It’s a shitty day at work, one of those that make me wonder why I do what I do. Sometimes the red tape makes it impossible to do any good. It doesn’t help that I’ve been so damn worried about East the past few days. That nightmare had been frightening to witness—the way he’d been flailing around, how he’d been screaming for Ella, yelling at Morgan, as if he was reliving the worst day of his life.

At first I hadn’t been able to wake him up, to pull him out of the past. He’d been crying, wailing, in so much pain. I’ve never felt my heart being ripped out the way I did in that moment.

And he’s spent the last eighteen years blaming himself, thinking it’s his fault—something Gregory fucking Swift hasn’t done anything to stop. Something he’s actively made worse. My body temperature rises and my head throbs to the point where it feels like it’s going to explode every time I think about it. What kind of parent treats their child the way East has been treated? And though I shouldn’t be, it’s hard not to be pissed at Morgan and Rhett about it too. Why couldn’t they find a way to protect him?

I’m exhausted when I get off work. East is still at work, and part of me is glad. Not because I don’t want to be around him. I always want to be with him, but I need someone I can talk to, someone I can trust and who will know what to do. It doesn’t matter if I’m thirty-six years old, one of those people for me will always be my mom. And it helps to know she’s also someone who cares about East.

I text her to see if she’s off, and thankfully she is, so I head to their place. Dad is home too, and as close as I am with him, as much as I love him and know I can trust him, I don’t want to share East’s business with him. It doesn’t feel right. But like always, somehow my parents know. Dad takes one look at me and asks, “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll give you two a few minutes.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t—”

He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hey. None of that. I get it. I’ve got a mom too, ya know.”

I chuckle. Christ, my family is the best, and I’m so damn grateful that now East will have them too. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Have a good chat.” He heads for the backyard.

Mom comes over and gives me a hug. “You look like you needed that. Is everything okay with you and Easton?”

“Yes. We’re good.” I rub a hand over my face and follow her to the couch. “I’m in love with him.”

“I know. And he loves you too. That’s another thing moms always know.”

I chuckle but don’t doubt she’s right. Moms have some kind of magic ability sometimes…but then, when I look at my father, he does too. I guess it’s just that some people are really fucking good at being parents, and I was blessed to have two good ones.

“I don’t even know if I should be sharing any of this with you…” But my gut tells me it’s okay. That East would know she can be trusted and that I’m only doing it because I love him.

“You wouldn’t be here if you knew you shouldn’t be.” And yep, she’s right. “You’re here because you love him.”

“I’m worried about him. Ella…he hasn’t dealt with losing her at all. He thinks it’s his fault.”

“Oh, that sweet, noble boy… It’s hard for people who love big not to blame themselves. That doesn’t mean it’s right and they should, but sometimes our hearts do a real good job at burying our logic. I take it he’s never talked to anyone?”

I shake my head. “I just want to do right by him. I want to support him in the right ways and love him the best I can. What if I do something wrong?”

“It doesn’t look like Easton is the only person taking blame for things they can’t control. No matter what, Easton’s choices and how he moves forward is up to him. You can’t force him to do anything. You can’t make him get help. Even if you force him to go, therapy doesn’t work if you’re not an active participant in it. What you can do is be honest with him, and love him the best you can, which I know you’ll do. And sometimes you might mess up. You’re human. But your heart will always be in the right place, and if there is anyone who will do their best by East, I know it’s you.”

I nod, then push the hair off my forehead. “I just want to make it all go away for him.”

“You can’t, but you can help make every day from now on better than the ones he had before.”

Jesus, I hope she’s right.

“I’m so proud of the man you are, Archer. And that boy—that man. He’s something special too. I feel it in here.” She places a hand over her heart. “I knew it hearing Allison talk about him, and I felt so connected to him that day with Ella. He was meant to be in this family, and I have to believe everything will be okay.”

A deep breath wooshes from my lungs, a sort of calmness settling in my bones. “I feel the same.”

“Do you think he would mind if I asked him out to lunch or something sometime? I don’t want to overstep.”

I reach over and squeeze her hand. “I think he would like that.”

She places her other hand on top of mine, and we sit there for a moment together like that.

“Do you want to know why I do what I do?” I finally ask, and she nods. “When Trav started to get into trouble… I kept telling myself that if only someone had given him a chance, tried to help him rather than just seeing him as troubled, as wrong, maybe that might’ve made a difference. Maybe he’d still be here. That’s why I went into law enforcement, but sometimes it feels like I was wrong. I haven’t done what I planned to do. Hell, I don’t even know if I like my job…but maybe…is it too wild to think that part of it was for him?” Even as I say it, I feel my cheeks heat.

“I think this world is filled with a million little miracles that we just don’t see, or don’t believe. This could be one of them.”

Because those times I went to help East when he needed it are part of why he trusted me, part of why he let me in. If it hadn’t been for me, he might not have ever told anyone what really happened that night he’d gotten into trouble for assault. But just like East has felt different to me from the start, maybe I’ve been different for him.

“Archer…Travis wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, I know. East said the same thing. I told him we’d work on our misplaced guilt together.”

She smiles, pulls me closer, and kisses my temple. “I love you.”

“I love you too. And thank you, for everything. Not just me, but how you are with East.”

“You better be careful, or he might end up being my favorite,” she teases, and I laugh along with her. I don’t think I would mind that at all. He deserves it.

We talk for a few more minutes before I go out back and chat with Dad. East is still at work, and I drop by there before going home to change and then meet him at his place.

He and Dusty are laughing, the two of them by a car in their coveralls, East with his head thrown back in a way I don’t often see. I stop and stare at him for a moment, struck stupid by this fucking man and how beautiful he is.

Dusty sees me first and gives me a knowing smile. “Archer is here,” he tells Easton, who turns his blue eyes on me.

“I went to see my mom after work. The shop is on my way home, so I stopped by.” I force myself not to put an arm around East, not to pull him close and kiss him. “She asked for your number. I hope that’s okay. She said something about you being her favorite and wanting to take you out to lunch.”

“I…” He nods. “Yeah, that’s fine.” And then he surprises me by reaching over and taking my hand. Dusty notices, of course, but just grins and doesn’t call us out. “Will you be around on Sunday? We were thinking that might be a good day for Dusty, Morgan, and Rhett to come over.”

Jesus, he’s trying so fucking hard. I can see it. He’s unsure right now, nervous, but he’s doing this, holding my hand and inviting them over. Hell, I’d call off for work if I had to. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“It’s a plan, then,” Dusty says. “I have to go…take care of something. Or you know, make up a reason to give the two of you a moment. I’ll be back.”

I laugh while East shakes his head. The moment Dusty slips into the office, I pull East close, leaning against one of the counters and wrapping my arms around his waist. “I think my good boy deserves something special for that.”

He bites his bottom lip. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind? Giving me that big fucking cock of yours?”

“Anything. I’ll give you anything, East.”

He presses his mouth to mine. I flick my tongue against his lips, and he grants me entrance. It’s a short kiss, not one where I can devour him the way I’d like to do, before someone clears her throat behind him. East jerks away from me, and damn it, I was just making out with him in the middle of the shop in my uniform.

“Archer Thorn…is that you?” old Mrs. Williams says.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you two boys were…you know. I think that’s very nice.”

I laugh, grateful for her reply, even though it’s ridiculous.

“I came by to check on my vehicle.”

“Yes, ma’am. I can help you.” East walks over to her, and I wait for him. Maybe I should be worried about her seeing us or how fast it will get around town, but I can’t find it in myself to care.

East talks to her for a few minutes, before she waves to me and is on her way. I pull him close again.

“What are you smiling at?” he asks.

“I like people knowing you’re mine.”

East drops his forehead against my shoulder. “You’re ruining me, you know that?” I’m not sure how to take that, but then he says softer, mouth against my throat, “But in the best way.”

“Then you already ruined me, sweetheart. I’m just waiting for you to catch up.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Easton

I’ve been freaking the fuck out all day. I realize that’s not a normal reaction to having one’s brothers over, but then, we’re not exactly what you’d consider a normal family. It doesn’t help that I’ve already been on edge since the nightmare Archer witnessed. I keep waiting for him to realize I’m too much or that I’m not worth it. So far he’s sticking around, and I want to do anything in my power to make that happen.

You have to do it for yourself too, East.

El? I breathe out a sigh of relief. She’s been so quiet lately. Every day I’m worried that she’s gone for good. I promised her I would never let her go, and I won’t. I just have to find a way to be better for Archer without losing her.

Focus on today with Morgan and Rhett. You deserve it.

People keep telling me that—all the things I deserve—and it’s fucking with my head. But maybe they’re right. Maybe I should believe them.

“How are you doing?” Archer comes up to me from behind, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling my throat. The warmth of his body is welcoming, the feel of his muscles and bones against mine. I lean back into him the way I’ve never done with anyone other than Archer, just trusting him to help hold me up and be there for me to lean on. There’s something so healing in that.

“Good.”

“And?” He nibbles my neck.

“Nervous, you asshole. Now don’t get me hard before they get here.”

He chuckles. “God, I love you.” My heart does a skydive. It’s like a jump-start to my system every time he says that. Ella used to tell me all the time. I figure there were times Rhett and Morgan said it to me when we were younger, and Morgan maybe a couple of times now as we’re working through our relationship, but it’s not something I’m used to hearing. Other than El and the few times I heard it from my brothers, no one has ever said that to me before except Arch.

“I love you too,” sneaks past the fear and through my lips. My head snaps up to him, Archer’s eyes wide. I’m not sure which one of us is more shocked that I said it, which is likely a little sad.

Archer answers with his hands on my face and his mouth sealed to mine, the kiss claiming me deep down to the marrow of my bones.

The kiss is interrupted by a knock at the door and Pretty Girl and Casanova barking like crazy.

“Think it’s too late to cancel so I can take you upstairs and fuck you?” He presses his mouth to mine.

“Sounds good to me.”

He snickers. “Nope. You’re not getting out of this, but later tonight, I have plans for you. Do you want me to get the door, or do you have it?”

“I’ll do it, though I’m going on record that sex will be more fun and less emotionally draining.” But really, I want to do this. It’s time to do this.

Archer swats me on the ass, and I head to the door and open it. Rhett, Dusty, and Morgan are all there, two vehicles in the driveway since they didn’t come together.

Pretty Girl immediately gives them a love attack, while Casanova hides behind my legs, unsure about these new visitors.

“It’s okay, sweet boy.” I kneel beside him and pet his head. “They’re nice. They came over just to see you.”

As if Pretty Girl understands me, she turns around and looks at me like, What the fuck, Dad?

“And you too,” I tell her, then look up at them, still making sure Casanova knows it’s okay. “He’s skittish with new people. It’s probably good you’re here. It will help with socializing him. When me and Arch take them to the dog park, it’s usually when no one else is around.”

Dusty and Morgan come inside, Rhett lingering behind them with his hands in his pockets like he’s not sure what to do. Morgan kneels to pet them, and I remember the first time he met Pretty Girl and how good he was with her.

I feel Archer’s gaze on me as Morgan starts talking to Casanova. “Aren’t you a handsome boy. It’s okay. I know Rhett is scary, but we’ll protect you.”

Dusty laughs.

“Fuck off,” Rhett grumbles, and though that edge of past anger lingers between them, there’s the smallest hint of teasing too.

Morgan looks up at him. “I’m giving you shit…feels weird, but it just happened.”

“Did you get a lobotomy?” Rhett crosses his arms, and this moment feels like what being real brothers is supposed to be, but how the fuck would I know?

Morgan gives his attention to Casanova again. “I don’t want to rush you, but we’re here to love on you when you’re ready.”

I’m pretty sure Dusty swoons. “You’re so sweet.”

I roll my eyes and stand up. “You two are gross.”

“It’s ridiculous,” Rhett adds, and the three of us laugh together…then stop to stare as if we just realized what happened. Yeah, I’m pretty sure bits and pieces of this really is the way brothers are supposed to be.

Rhett clears his throat, the moment breaking. “Can I come inside, or are the two of you going to block the entryway all night?” he says to Morgan and Dusty.

They stand, and all three of them come farther into the living room, Rhett closing the door behind them.

“Have a seat…or whatever,” I tell them. Morgan and Dusty do, but I see Rhett looking around, and it takes me a moment to realize that Rhett has never been inside my house. He’s seen it, come over to give me shit or whatever, but usually I step outside and we argue and he leaves.

My place is nothing special. My things aren’t as nice as his—mine being a mishmash of stuff I like and comfortable furniture. The stairs are across from the front door, the open-concept living room is spacious enough, and the kitchen is behind it.

“It’s, um…it’s nice, East.”

I look toward Casanova and pet his head. “Thanks.”

“We are so bad at this,” Morgan says, his tone sad. I think we all share the sentiment.

“But you’re here,” Archer says, hands on my shoulders, massaging them. “You’re here and trying. That’s what matters.”

“I second that.” Dusty reaches out and wraps his arm around Morgan, and when my gaze finds Rhett, I recognize the deep loneliness in his eyes because I’ve worn it myself my whole life. But Archer is helping to soothe mine, just like Dusty does with Morgan, and I can’t help wondering if Rhett has ever had anyone to help with his.

*

I used my smoker to make ribs, and then baked potatoes and grilled vegetables for dinner. My table isn’t big enough to accommodate all of us, so we use the card table too, pushing the two together. It’s a cool fall evening in the UP, probably around fifty, and I open one of the windows to alleviate the suffocating feeling I have with so many people in my house. I don’t want to be this way. It never bothered me before, but I keep noticing little things about myself that aren’t exactly wrong, but…I do want to maybe work on them getting better. I’d love to be able to have my brothers in my house without sneaking away a couple of times because I feel like I can’t breathe.

“This is really good, East,” Dusty tells me, breaking the silence.

“I told you he can cook,” Morgan adds, making a weight settle in my chest for having had dinners with him and not Rhett, but then Rhett hasn’t always made it easy. He’s never tried with me either, but he did walk away from Gregory for me. That’s something I can’t forget.

The conversation is stilted but peppered with moments where the past slips away and we forget the walls between us, before they’re suddenly up again. Archer and Dusty carry a lot of the heavy lifting, asking questions and bringing the rest of us into the fold.

When dinner is done, Archer says, “I’m gonna let the dogs out real quick.”

“I’ll go with you,” Morgan tells him, and Dusty follows.

Rhett and I stand there and look at each other for a moment, unsure what to do. We sure as hell don’t know what to say.

“What’s this?” Rhett walks over to the counter and picks up the finished 3D puzzle.

“It’s something Archer does. He brought one over, and we put it together.”

“I didn’t know you liked puzzles.”

“I didn’t either, but it was cool. We’re doing another. Want me to show you?” I fear he’ll say no, that he’s not interested, because why would he care about me? Logically I know that’s not necessarily the case, but my brain plays tricks on me sometimes.

“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

The other one is a ship. We’re not nearly close to being done, but I show Rhett the progress and what it’s going to look like finished.

“Do you like building things?” he asks.

“Real stuff? Nah, not really. I mean, I can. And, well, I like putting cars together, but I don’t do much of anything else. Why?”

He shrugs. “Just curious.”

Quiet weighs heavily on us again. I wish Ella would give me some ideas of what to say to him, but she hasn’t spoken to me since before they showed. “I’m sorry I suck at this.”

“I suck at it too. I spent my whole life pretending I have all the answers, and now I don’t have any of them and don’t have the energy to pretend otherwise.”

That’s how I used to see Rhett, as this know-it-all who thought he was better than the rest of us, but I think Gregory wanted us to see him that way, and wanted Rhett to feel that way, trying to mold him into the version of Rhett he wanted to flaunt. One he thought he could make to be just like him. “You’re better than him. Don’t think you know that, but you are.”

He closes his eyes, jaw tense, like he’s scared if he opens his mouth, truths will come spilling out. I understand the feeling of wanting to keep those locked away, where we’re safe and nothing can hurt us. It’s so fucking exhausting.

A noise comes from the doorway, and I look over to see Morgan lingering there, unsure.

None of us speak right away, and it surprises me that I’m the one who talks first. “I was showing Rhett the puzzles Archer and I have been doing. I mean, it’s kinda dumb, but—”

“It’s not dumb,” they say at the same time, their gazes snapping together, shock clear on both of their faces. And then they smile, and shake their heads, the two of them looking so much alike with their dark hair and eyes…and the same smile, which I’ve never noticed before. My two brothers.

El?

I’m here, East. No matter what, I’m always here. And I’m proud of you, happy for you. I love you.

I smile, so thankful she replied. For the first time since I was nine, I feel like all four of us are together.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Archer

“We should go out to lunch or something, take the dogs with us. We can go to Birchbark Grill. They allow dogs on the patio. Have you ever done something like that with Pretty Girl before?” I know he hasn’t with Casanova, but I think they would both be good. Pretty Girl gets excited every time she meets new friends, like when people come over or when we went to the park with Meadow. “It might be good for Casanova, get him used to being around people.”

East looks at me from where he’s folding a butterfly at the table we’ve set up for puzzles. It’s been nearly a week since Dusty, Morgan, and Rhett were here. While East has still been a little off, I think it’s because he’s got so much going on in that head of his. He’s been stepping out of his comfort zone so much lately, making unexpected strides, but I know it’s emotionally taxing for him.

“Why would we want to go be around other people? They’re terrible.”

With a smile, I walk over to him, tilt his head up, and press a kiss to his lips. “Yes, they are. But there are some good ones out there too. It’ll be fun. I’ll get to show off my guy.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s a spark of joy in his blue irises.

“Or should I say my good boy?” I add, quirking a brow at him.

“You just said that so I’ll say yes. You know how it gets to me.”

“I said it because it’s true.”

East sighs. “Being with me isn’t a flex, Arch. It’s not a good look for you.”

The thing is, I don’t really give a fuck what anyone thinks. Maybe at the beginning I thought it was a good idea to keep us on the down-low, but I don’t care about that anymore. And if people at work have a problem with it, we’ll figure that out too. East is more important than anything else. “I’m proud to be with you. Now—it’s nearly the end of October, and amazingly, it’s in the sixties. Soon it’ll be too cold to do shit like this. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

He drops his forehead against my stomach. I rest a hand on the back of his neck, tickling my fingers along his nape.

“See? Ruining me.”

“If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to.”

“I want to go, Archer. You make me want to do things or learn to do things I never thought I’d want. It’s still fucking with my head.” He stands, and then he presses a quick kiss to my lips. “It’ll be good for the dogs.”

He uses them as an excuse a lot, when he does things he’s unsure about or in good situations he doesn’t believe he deserves. I plan to do everything in my power to make things easier for him, but I can’t do it alone. East needs to want it, and he needs some help, but I’m too damn scared to bring it up.

“And I get to show you off,” I tease again, trying to find any moment I can to build him up.

“I’d rather you get me off.” He smirks, and I laugh.

“I’ll do that too. That’s my plan for the rest of the night when we get home.”

“Let’s get out of here, then. The sooner we leave, the sooner we come home.”

This time, our laughter mixes together, and we grab our things and the dogs’ leashes.

“Come on, guys. Archer is forcing us to socialize.” But before we go out the door, he grabs the shirts Meadow had made for them. He tosses Pretty Girl’s to me, and I put it on her while he does the same for Casanova. I love that he wants them to wear Meadow’s creation when they’re out around town. My heart already belongs to him, and it just endears him to me more.

We take his truck into town, the dogs excited in the cab. East parks behind Birchbark Grill and looks at me. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure about everything when it comes to you.”

He shakes his head as if I’ve lost my mind but doesn’t argue. He gets out and reaches for Casanova as I take care of Pretty Girl. While Casanova is good with me, he still prefers East to anyone else. Pretty Girl’s more comfortable with other people.

It’s a fairly busy afternoon in downtown Birchbark, people walking around and enjoying the warmer weather like we are. I see people’s gazes go from me, to East, to the dogs, then back to me again. I’m surprised there haven’t been more rumors lately, but maybe since we spend most of our time at his house, it’s helped to keep them to a minimum. That won’t be the case after today, and I wait for the worry to kick in, to feel concern about my job, but I just can’t find it in myself to care.

The patio has propane heaters between the tables, and a few other people are there, one of the couples with a dog.

“Hi, Officer Thorn,” Chip Wallace says, he and his wife, Lori, looking at us. He’s about five years older than me, and I’ve known them both most of my life.

“Archer is fine. How are you both doing?”

“Not bad,” Lori replies. “Who are these two?” She reaches out a hand toward Casanova, who is closer to her. He ducks behind East’s legs, and East takes a step back with him, making sure Casanova has space. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“He was abused. He’s unsure about new people.” East kneels so he’s closer to Casanova.

“Oh, that’s terrible. I’m so glad he’s safe with you now,” Lori replies, and damned if East doesn’t cock his head, brows drawn together as if he’s thrown by Lori being grateful to him for anything.

East looks at Casanova again but speaks to her. “He’s getting better. We’re trying to socialize him. We take him to the dog park too.”

The way they look at me says they noticed East’s use of the word we, making us sound like the couple we are. I’m not sure if he knows he did it, but I can’t deny it fills me up the way only he can.

“This pretty girl loves people, though.” I maneuver myself so Lori can pet her.

“What’s her name?”

“Pretty Girl.” I chuckle.

“Aww!” Lori says, and I can tell she’s smitten.

“She’s our good girl, aren’t you?” I pet her head along with Lori, not shying away from saying our. If they didn’t get it from what East said, they do now. It’s the first time I’ve had a boyfriend publicly. I’ve dated men casually, but that wasn’t usually in Birchbark. “Anyway, we’re going to grab a table. Enjoy your lunch.”

East stands, a silent thank-you in his eyes. We say our goodbyes and head over to a table in the corner.

“Remind me why we’re doing this again?” he asks.

“Was it really that bad?”

He shakes his head. “Shut up.”

A waitress comes out and brings us water and menus. I feel people’s gazes on us as they walk by, other diners too. Even Lori will look our way and smile, curiosity burning bright.

Pretty Girl and Casanova lie under the table while we look at the menu.

“I’m gonna get a cheeseburger,” I tell East. And an extra order of fries for the dogs, of course. They love them.

“I’m doing the fried chicken burger. I’m getting fries for the dogs.”

I grin. “Already planned on it.”

He smiles back, and it nearly stops my heart.

The waitress returns, and we order. East is a little quieter than usual at first, but as I keep chatting with him, the conversation flows easier.

The food arrives, and the pups perk up. We each slip a fry under the table to them.

“Your mom texted me,” East says.

“She did?”

“Yeah…we’re gonna plan something for my day off next week. She’s…nice.”

“She likes you.”

“I like her too.” I grin at him, which East returns, before he stares off, getting lost in his head. I take a bite, give him some time. “We should look for some more of those puzzles.”

That easily, my heart runs a race. It’s incredible how much he gets to me, and I love that it was his idea. “We can do that.”

“Do you think we can find a butterfly?”

For Ella. And I don’t care if I have to make one myself, I’m going to find a fucking butterfly puzzle for this man that so many people look at and think he’s so hardened, a troublemaker, aloof, when really, it’s that his heart is so damn big, the world hurts him more than most. All I want to do is protect it, stand in front of it like a barrier between his heart and the rest of the world, and take all the hits for him.

Reaching over the table, I put my hand on his. “Yeah, I’ll do my best to find one.”

He nods, then clears his throat, just as Lori steps up. “Sorry to interrupt. We’re leaving, and I just wanted to say you make a lovely couple.”

“I think so.” I wink at her playfully, before adding, “Thank you.” After sending a kind smile our way, she slips away. “I always liked Lori. Smart lady.”

East laughs, one he doesn’t try to hide or bite back, and in this moment, everything feels fucking perfect. We continue our meal, the conversation flowing easily now, the dogs enjoying their treat.

When we’re done, I say, “Let’s walk around a bit.”

“You never seen downtown Birchbark, or what?” he teases.

“Brat.” When I reach for his hand, East doesn’t pull back, our fingers locking together in the middle, while we each hold one of the dogs. “I can’t believe how warm it is today.”

“Perfect day.” East looks at me, eyes all intense, showing me things he struggles to say, and I know he doesn’t mean the weather.

We enjoy the sunshine, taking a stroll down Main Street. We make a turn down one of the quieter side streets, still with shops and businesses along the way.

When East pulls to an abrupt stop, I look at him, and it’s like every part of him is shut down, like all that emotion in his eyes is turned off, jaw set like he’s walling himself off.

Glancing ahead, I see why. Gregory Swift is standing there, and an instant wildfire burns everything inside me. East’s hand tightens on mine, and a hate unlike anything I’ve ever felt surges within me.

Gregory notices our hands, and disgust turns his face harder. “What the hell…are you doing…with him?” His words are slow, measured in a way they weren’t before his stroke, and it takes everything in me not to pull my arm back and hit him, to feel the satisfaction of wiping the ugly look off his face.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business. Excuse us.” I try to pull East with me, but it’s like his feet are rooted to the earth. “East…sweetheart. Let’s go.”

“He’ll ruin your life…your career…just like he ruins everything he touches.”

My blood runs cold. My vision blurs. This man is pure evil. “What did you just say about him?” I take a step forward, my hand coming free of East’s. “You don’t know him. You don’t deserve to know him.” I’m even closer to him, but I don’t remember taking the steps. My hands fist, muscles tight, the rein I have on my control slipping. This man has hurt East in too many ways to count. Let him believe he was worthless, never cared enough to get him help. Blamed him for the death of his mom and wished it had been him rather than his sister. I’ve never in my life wanted to hit someone as badly as I do him.

“He’s not…worth it.”

“He’s worth everything, and don’t you ever fucking talk to him like that again!”

“Or what?” Gregory stands tall. The door beside us opens, a woman coming out of the pharmacy.

“Gregory, why did you come out here?” His nurse, maybe, looks back and forth between us. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. He’s the one who’s not worth it,” I spit out as the woman leads Gregory away, and when I turn back to East, he’s standing there like he’s completely disconnected from the world. I’d let go of Pretty Girl and hadn’t even realized it, but she’s with East now, both she and Casanova jumping onto his legs and trying to get his attention.

I push back toward him, cup his face, brush my fingers over his cheeks, my thumb against his lip. “East…sweetheart. Talk to me. Don’t fucking listen to him. Don’t believe a fucking word he says. I’m here. I love you.”

My words seem to snap him out of his trance. “I told you he hates me,” is all he says, those words biting right into my chest.

“He doesn’t fucking matter. He’s wrong. Come on. Let’s go home.”

I grab Pretty Girl’s leash, then take his hand again. East doesn’t hold on tight like he had just moments before.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Easton

El? Ella? I call out to my sister, the other half of my soul, but she doesn’t reply. She’s not been talking to me lately, but I need her. Doesn’t she know I need her? She’s always been there for me before, but now she’s silent.

Archer drives my truck home, and I don’t speak the whole time, not out loud at least. I keep hearing what Gregory said, keep calling out to Ella but she doesn’t come.

It feels like I’ve been emptied out, like there’s nothing inside me anymore. Why does he do that to me? Why can’t I stop it? Today had been…it had been more than I expected. I hadn’t even wanted to go out, but we did, and it was perfect until Gregory had to remind me of all the shit I can’t get past.

“He’ll ruin your life…your career…just like he ruins everything he touches.”

I don’t want to ruin Archer. I don’t want to ruin anything. I want…I want to get better. I want to be better. How do I do that?

El, why aren’t you answering me? Are you mad at me?

It takes me a moment to realize we’re home and Archer’s hand is on my shoulder, trying to reel me back in.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for. Stay right there.”

He gets out of the truck, coming around to my side to open the door. The way Archer takes care of me makes me believe that maybe deep down, there’s a part of me that’s worth it if I could just bring it closer to the surface.

“Good boy,” he says when I take his hand and get out of the truck. Heat flares through me, the neediness I have for him growing. I don’t want to be what Gregory says. I don’t know if I am, but I don’t want to be. I want to be the man Archer sees when he looks at me, the one he tells me he loves.

He unhooks the dogs from their doggie belts, and the two of them run toward the house.

Once we’re inside, he takes the leashes off, that emptiness in me a vast echo I need to fill, and the only way I know how to do that is with Archer.

“Fuck me.” I take his face in my hands and pull his mouth to mine. My tongue slips inside, tasting the familiarity I’ve only ever had with him, the comfort I’ve only ever had with him.

Archer kisses me back, hands on my waist, fingers digging into me in the most welcome of ways.

I try to devour him, cling to him like if I let him go, he’ll disappear.

“Hey, slow down. We’re good. I’m not going anywhere. Maybe we should talk.”

We probably should, but I can’t, not now. “I just want to feel the way only you can make me feel. I’m so fucking empty without you. Need to be filled up by you.”

“Jesus. Yes. God yes.”

Our mouths fuse together again, and we find a way to stumble up the stairs while kissing. The second we’re in the bedroom, we pull apart only to kick out of shoes and remove clothes. It hurts not to touch him, to be away from him for one second. I maybe shouldn’t need him the way I do, feel like he’s what keeps me grounded, but I do, and I don’t ever want to lose that, to lose him.

To lose myself.

Archer’s arms wrap around me as he kisses me like he’s as hungry for me as I am him, as if he needs me just as much.

“He’s worth everything.”

I’ve never believed that. At least, not since Ella. I meant something to her. But when I lost her, I lost myself. Lost my worth. Dusty, Morgan, and Rhett tried, but they still couldn’t make me see, still couldn’t tear my walls down and silence how I feel about myself…but Archer is quieting those voices. Making me feel like maybe I’m worth fighting for.

Archer lowers me to the bed, pushing me up so my head is on the pillows. His firm, muscular body fits perfectly against mine, on top of mine. Hard cock against hard cock, heart against heart as he eats at my mouth like he might die if he couldn’t have me.

I spread my legs for him, wrap them around him, that ache to be filled by him consuming me.

And somehow, Archer knows. His mouth licks and sucks its way down my throat, his hair tickling my skin. “You need me inside that tight little hole of yours? Fuck, I need it too. I’ll always need you, East.”

I feel like I’m his, feel wanted, like in these moments, I can forget the words Gregory said to me, forget what I did to Ella.

“I’ll always need you too.”

He stills on top of me, pulling a sharp breath into his lungs. Then he looks at me and smiles, like I’ve made him the happiest person in the world.

Me. The unwanted one.

Gregory hadn’t wanted me.

My mom, though I know she loved me, initially hadn’t wanted me either. At least, she hadn’t tried for me. She’d wanted her girl. She’d wanted Ella.

Rhett and Morgan hadn’t wanted to take care of me.

But something about me makes Archer happy, and maybe that’s the light at the end of the tunnel, the full heart after years of it being broken…that I have him and he has me.

“Fuck me.” I need to have him inside me, need to be connected to him that way. I’ve taken other men inside me, but none of them filled the emptiness that Archer does.

He reaches over, grabbing the lube from the nightstand, slicking his fingers without ever taking his gaze from mine. “You’re worth it…worth everything. You’re so fucking good, sweetheart.” He slips his hand between my legs, pushing his finger inside me and making my body arch toward him. “So good. So fucking perfect.”

One of my hands fists in the blanket, the other clutching his forearm as Archer fucks me with one, then two fingers.

“I need this just as much as you. Want to be inside you all the time. Claiming you with my fingers and then my cock, marking you up inside to remind you you’re mine.”

“More,” I beg, earning myself a third finger, savoring the burn and the fullness, feeling like we’re a part of each other.

“God, I love you.” His lips find mine again, tongue fucking my mouth the way his fingers are tantalizing my ass. My skin sparks with an aliveness only Archer gives me, a want for more in my life than I ever cared about before him. “Christ, I need my dick inside you.”

He pushes to his knees but doesn’t pull his fingers out of me. Archer always knows what I need.

He uses his other hand to slick his cock with lube, then eases me over so I’m half on my side and half on my stomach, top leg bent and the other straight.

Archer straddles the bottom one and spreads my ass cheeks with his free hand. “Such a pretty little hole, sweetheart. And it’s mine. All mine.”

He pulls his fingers out, then pushes his cock inside in one swift movement. I cry out, all my nerve endings coming alive with the sharp sting of the welcome intrusion.

Archer pulls back, then snaps his hips forward, over and over and over again, shaking the bed, stitching me together, making me feel all those things he tells me I am: good, worthy, special.

My eyes roll back, mouth open, gasping and begging and maybe even crying. I taste salt on my tongue, and when I open my eyes, the world around me is blurry.

“Arch…”

“I’m right here. What do you need?” He kisses away my tears.

“You.”

“You have me.”

“Keep fucking me.”

“I’d never stop if I didn’t have to.”

He pushes me onto my back, then shoves inside me again, owning me the way I need. I end up on my hands and knees next. Every time I’m close to coming, he pulls back, changing position and prolonging the fusion of our bodies.

My balls are so fucking full, cock bobbing and aching.

Archer pulls me up so we’re kneeling in the center of the bed, my back against his chest. He fucks up and into me, one hand lowering to stroke my cock.

“No. Make me come without it. I can do it. I’m so fucking close.”

“Christ, you’re incredible.”

His movements become sharper, deeper, as Archer rails into my ass. Each time his cock brushes my prostate, he eases me closer to that point, the one where I lose control and let myself fall, knowing Archer will be there to catch me.

His teeth nibble my earlobe, and then he says, “I love you. Come for me. You’re so fucking good, East. Show me how good you can be for me. Come from my cock in your ass before I fill you.”

My whole world shatters, light flashing in my eyes as I give in, spurt after spurt, nuts rising and emptying as Archer fucks the cum out of me.

His hold on me tightens, cock twitching in my ass, as I feel the hot burst of cum filling me again and again and again.

I fall to the mattress, Archer slipping out of me, wild, heartbreaking cries spilling from my lips as he pulls me to him, pushing two fingers inside me, and holds me, telling me he loves me, until my world goes black.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Archer

East sleeps fitfully through the afternoon. I don’t leave the bed, holding him, kissing his temple, making sure if he wakes up, he knows I’m here.

That had been the most intense, soul-shattering sex of my whole life. It hadn’t come from a good experience, but I think it led us to a good place, one where East lowered more of his walls and gave himself to me in new ways. I could feel it happening.

And later, when he wakes up, I’m going to talk to him about getting help, seeing a therapist, because there are so many things he needs to work out, but we can’t do it alone. The stuff his father said, I can’t imagine growing up hearing that, believing it. That negativity would affect anyone.

Evening comes, and East doesn’t wake up. He must be mentally and emotionally drained. He’s restless every night, falling asleep and waking up numerous times, and now, I think his body and mind are just too exhausted.

I slip out of bed only long enough to piss, wash my hands, and tug underwear on. I go downstairs and feed the dogs, then take them out, before going back upstairs to climb into bed with East.

I lie awake and watch him sleep as evening turns to night, wishing I had done more today, wishing I hadn’t let Gregory Swift get away with how he’d spoken about East.

Eventually, I fall asleep too, with East warm and relaxed in my arms.

My body wakes up naturally in the morning, and East is gone.

“East?” When he doesn’t answer, I go downstairs, but the house is quiet.

“Where’s Daddy?” I ask the dogs before opening the front door and noticing East’s truck is gone.

My heart drops to my feet, and I run upstairs for my cell, trying to tell myself there’s a logical explanation. I call his phone but hear it in the room. Jesus, I hadn’t even noticed it sitting on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

My damn pulse is banging against my skin, stomach twisted up and chest too tight. How in the fuck had he slipped out of bed without me noticing? I should have stayed awake, should have been more careful.

Why didn’t he wake me?

Why did he leave?

I don’t know where I plan to go look for him, but I have to do something, so I tug on the rest of my clothes, then jog downstairs. I pull the front door open, bile burning up my esophagus when I see Craig and Martinez standing there. “Is he okay? What happened?”

Of course, it’s Craig who speaks. “Archer, is Easton Swift here?”

I breathe out a sigh of relief. He’s okay. They aren’t here to tell me something happened to him. “No, he’s not. Can I ask what this is about?”

“We really just need you to tell us where he is,” Craig replies. “How long has he been gone?”

“Just a few minutes,” the lie slips out. I have no idea if I’m doing the right thing, if I’m saying the right thing. “What happened?”

Martinez says, “Gregory Swift’s house was broken into last night. No one was hurt, but some personal effects were taken. I’m sorry, Archer, but he’s convinced it was Easton. Said the two of you got into an argument with him just yesterday. You know we’ve got to check it out.”

“It wasn’t him.” I try to school my features. It wasn’t East. Deep down, to the marrow of my bones, I know it wasn’t. “Gregory just wants to blame it on him. He’s got this hatred for East, and I’m sorry about what happened to him, but it wasn’t East. He just sees East as an easy target.”

“Gregory Swift? You’re talking about the mayor? The ex-congressman?” Craig’s words are sharp as a knife.

“Yeah. I am. I was fucking there. East didn’t say a word to him. If anything, I’m the one who got into an argument with him.”

“You know we have to at least talk to him, Archer. We’re not trying to be the bad guys here.”

The thing is, I know it’s their job. I would have to do the same thing, but while Martinez feels bad, I don’t think Craig does.

“He went for a drive this morning. I’m not sure when he’ll be back, but he was here, all night, with me. He couldn’t have done it because he didn’t leave.” In my gut, I know there’s no going back from that lie, but East is worth it. It doesn’t matter if he left last night, I know who he is, and he didn’t break into Gregory’s house. It’s like he reverts to a child just by seeing the man.

“Okay,” Martinez replies.

“We’ll be back,” Craig adds, and I watch as the two of them head back to the cruiser, climb in, and drive away.

Goddamn it, sweetheart. Where are you?

The second they’re gone, I call Dusty.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” Dusty asks.

“Is East with you? I don’t even know if you’re at the shop yet, but do you know if he’s there?”

“We’re closed today.” Damn it. I didn’t even think of that. “I’m not sure if he’s there. I can check the work cameras. What’s going on?”

I run a hand through my hair, heart beating so fast, I’m afraid it might implode. “I can’t… I’m coming over. Call Rhett and have him meet me at your place.”

I shove my phone into my pocket before he can ask me anything else, grab my keys, and head out. My stomach is a fucking mess, nausea swirling in my gut and burning its way up my throat. My hands are tight on the steering wheel the whole time I drive, as I try to piece together what the fuck happened. Did Gregory lie? It’s a really big fucking coincidence that his house got broken into the night I got into an argument with him about East. But Gregory is a lot of things, and dumb isn’t one of them. He wouldn’t be so stupid as to make up a burglary.

Rhett is already parked in front of Dusty’s house when I pull up. “Where the fuck is my brother? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to figure that out. Jesus, let’s go inside.” I push past him to the door, which pulls open, Morgan’s hair sleep-mussed and his eyes frantic.

“What happened, Archer? I’m freaking the fuck out here.”

We get into the house, Rhett closing the door behind him. I can’t keep still, pacing as I speak. “We went out to lunch yesterday, and it was fucking perfect…until we ran into your dad.”

“Shit,” Morgan curses.

Rhett stiffens, his face shutting down, not showing any emotions.

“He said some terrible things. East didn’t respond at all. It’s like…hell, it’s like he disconnected. I dealt with Gregory, and I thought everything was okay. But I woke up this morning and East was gone. I have no idea what time he left or where he is. He left his phone at home. Then two officers were at my door, telling me Gregory’s house was broken into last night and he thinks it was East.” I eye them all, one after the other so they know how serious I am. “He didn’t fucking do it. I don’t care if I can’t say what time he left, he didn’t do it. I told the officers he was with me all night, but—”

“You lied to the cops for my brother?” Morgan asks, soft awe in his voice.

“I love him,” I admit. “There’s not a damn thing in this world I wouldn’t do for him.”

“I…thank you,” Morgan replies. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want to find him. That’s all that matters.”

“He didn’t do it,” Rhett interrupts, surprising me. I thought he would be a harder sell. He’s always been so by the book, but then, before East, I had been too. “It was me.”

“You broke into your dad’s house?” Dusty asks.

“Fuck him. He deserves it,” Morgan argues. “Still surprised you did it, though.”

“It’s our fucking house too. I just…didn’t want to see him, but there were some things of Mom’s I wanted. I didn’t even…fuck, I was so stupid. I should have known he would blame it on East.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid.” Morgan takes a step closer to Rhett.

“You hate me. Don’t pretend you don’t.” Rhett moves backward, and while I can see that it looks like a rejection, something in his eyes tells me he’s afraid of being rejected himself.

“I know you two have a lot to work through, but can we get back to East? I’m worried about him. He…he talks to her.” He talks to her, and I knew. Why hadn’t I talked to him about getting help before? “He has conversations with her.”

“Talks to who?” Dusty asks.

“Ella.”

I feel the blast of heat from Rhett. “My brother hallucinates our dead sister, and you didn’t think to tell us until now?”

“I didn’t want to betray his trust. And he said he knows she’s not real. I don’t think it’s true hallucinations, but…what the fuck do I know? I love him, Rhett, and I’m doing my damn best here. You don’t think I’m beating myself up enough? This is a waste of fucking time. I need to find East.”

I head for the door, but I’m stopped by Dusty’s calm, steady words. “Wait. Don’t go yet. We need to figure out a plan here. Rhett, you need to tell your dad it was you.”

“Fuck him. I’m not talking to him.”

“Not even to save your brother?”

“I’ll go to the police station and tell them, but I’m not talking to him.”

I sigh. “You’re going to go to the police station and admit to breaking into someone’s house?”

“I’m not an idiot, Archer. I know what I’m doing.” Rhett crosses his arms, and I don’t have it in me to argue.

Dusty says, “Okay, Rhett will take care of the breaking and entering. The three of us need to find East. Do you have any ideas where he might be? He’s not at the shop.”

Something sparks in my brain, a lit match coming to life.

It’s what he was doing that first night I found him in the woods.

“Shit. I think I know where he is. I found him at a campsite a few years back. It’s…important to him. He’s there. I know he is.” Because even though that’s not where Ella died, he goes there to be close to her.

“At Birchwood?” Morgan asks.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“We took them there…me and Rhett. Not long before Ella died. Dad was supposed to go, but he didn’t. We were going to cancel, but they were so upset that we went ahead with it. Rhett and I…” Morgan looks at his brother.

“We agreed to get along for that trip. We tried to put all our issues aside so we could give the twins a good time. They loved it…they were happy. Do you remember Ella with the butterflies? They were everywhere. I swear we saw hundreds of them that weekend. She would chase them, and East would chase her.”

“He did anything she wanted, all the time. He just wanted to make her happy.” Morgan swipes at a tear rolling down his face. “It was the last thing we did together before…”

“Let’s go,” I tell them. “We’ll deal with the police later.” It’s the right decision, having his brothers there. Something inside me tells me that. East needs to feel loved, needs his family because he’s felt so damn alone since losing Ella.

Without another word, we all head for the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Easton

I can’t stop folding butterflies. There are hundreds of them around me, on the ground, in the dirt, flying away when the cool wind blows.

It’s a lot colder than it was yesterday. How was that really just yesterday? It was warm and perfect. Archer was warm and perfect. He always is.

When I hear footsteps crunching on leaves, I know it’s him. I don’t even look up, just continue to sit there in the dirt. “She won’t talk to me anymore, Arch.”

He walks over, kneels beside me, finger beneath my chin and angling my head so I look at him. “Dusty, Rhett, and Morgan are with me. Is that okay? They were worried about you too. They love you too.”

I can’t explain it, but some of the weight in my chest eased when I saw Archer, and now even more that I know they’re here. I’m not alone. They’re here with me, just like Ella has been trying to get to happen for years. She’s always trying to get me to talk to them, to open up to them, but I never believed it’s what they wanted. Maybe I was wrong.

I nod, the silent answer the only one I can give before Archer sits down beside me, pulling me into his arms, between his legs, and holding me so damn tight, I can hardly breathe.

“She won’t talk to me anymore…she doesn’t think I need her anymore, but I do. Or at least, I want to. I don’t know how to be me without her. I promised her I would always need her.” But now I need Archer too. There are so many things I need, so many things I want.

“She’s with you, sweetheart. She’s always with you.”

Those words bring me comfort. Even though in my head I always knew that’s true, my heart has a hard time believing it. “That’s what she said last time. The night you all came over.” I look up at my three brothers, standing a good distance away from us, giving Archer and me space.

They’re here, and that matters. It means something. They’re my brothers even if we don’t know how to be good at it yet. They wouldn’t be here if they didn’t love me like Archer said.

“Maybe…maybe that’s what she wanted. To help us find our way to each other,” Morgan offers tentatively.

The truth sends fear that I’ve lost her crawling up my spine. It’s what she wanted, and it’s what I want too, but… “I don’t want her to leave. I miss her.” I’m too broken down to be embarrassed by my words, too raw and cut open, and maybe I need that, need to show them all the pieces of me for all of us to heal.

“We miss her too,” Rhett replies. “And we haven’t been very good brothers to you. She was your twin. We should have taken better care of you, supported you more.”

I shake my head. They did their best. We were all just fucking kids, and…do I even deserve them? I try to shake that negative thought out of my head, but it’s hard. Would they be here if they knew the truth? “It was my fault. I told her where to hide. It was my fault,” I repeat. Tears blur my vision. Archer’s hold on me tightens, his lips pressing to my temple, soft words of comfort falling out.

Even though I hate what I said, a weight drops off my chest. I’ve been carrying that for so long, afraid of what would happen if they knew.

Rhett curses. “East…it’s not your fault. You were a kid. It was an accident.”

“You think it’s your fault?” Morgan asks. “It’s not. You were nine. I was the adult. I should have been watching you. I was sitting in my room, angry at the world, not coming down to look for you two while she was dying.”

My gaze snaps to him. I wipe my eyes so I can see him. Dusty’s arm is around him. Archer is holding me. Rhett is watching both of us, and then he says, “I should have been there.”

It hits me then, how the three of us have all been blaming ourselves for that day, holding that self-hatred in. They’ve been blaming themselves, and I have never once blamed Rhett or Morgan because it wasn’t their fault, but maybe if it’s not their fault, it wasn’t mine either.

Just then, a gust of wind whooshes through the trees, picking up the paper butterflies, making them fly around us. They flutter, soar in this way that feels impossible, but it’s real. It’s real and beautiful, Ella’s butterflies twisting and fluttering. No one speaks, we just watch, and for the first time in my life, there’s a calmness inside me.

When the wind settles and they fall to the ground again, Archer says, “I think she wants you all to know it’s not your fault.”

The thing is, I think he’s right. Ella loves us. She wants more for us. She’s been trying to help get me to a place where I can heal, and it’s time I do it. “I need help,” I admit. Those three words hold so much power that I feel a little stronger having said them.

“Maybe we all do,” Morgan replies, his voice broken.

When I look at him, Morgan’s face is streaked with tears. Rhett’s eyes are glistening, but he can’t let go enough to set them free. He’s trapped the way all of us have been, but one by one, we’re finding our way out.

Archer nuzzles into me, fortifying with his embrace the strength I’m finding in myself. “I’ll be right there with you the whole time. I’m not going anywhere. I love you so fucking much, sweetheart.”

There’s not a doubt in my mind, at least not in this moment. Archer isn’t going anywhere, and my brothers aren’t either. “I love you too.” And now I need to work on loving myself as well.

Rhett clears his throat. “We’ll give you two some space. I…” His words trail off before he adds, “I love you, East…and, Morgan…you too,” before he turns and walks away, alone…the way Rhett always is.

Morgan looks momentarily stunned before saying, “I love you both too,” but I doubt Rhett hears him, and then he and Dusty follow behind Rhett.

“You scared me, East. I know you’re used to doing everything alone, but you don’t have to do that anymore. It’s okay if you need to, but I’m always here for you. Tell me you know that.”

“I do. I just…I had to try and talk to her. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. I don’t want to lose her.”

“You won’t. You’ll never lose her. She’s a part of you and always will be.”

“I’m here, East. No matter what, I’m always here. And I’m proud of you, happy for you. I love you.” Those words were the last she said to me that day Morgan, Rhett, and Dusty came over. She was telling me goodbye, letting me know that even if she doesn’t respond, she’s always there. She just wants me to live, and for the first time in my life, I want that too.

“Will you help me? I think I need to find a treatment center to go to for a little while.”

“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need, and when you come back, Pretty Girl, Casanova, and I will be waiting for you.”

I give him a truth he’s helped me learn, at least when it comes to him. “I know.” Archer loves me, and I love him. We’re going to make this work, together.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Archer

I sit across the desk from my superior, who is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“You’re giving your notice?” he confirms.

“Yes, sir.” The fact that the choice wasn’t harder tells me it’s the best one for me.

“If this is about Easton Swift, that’s been worked out.” As soon as Gregory discovered it was Rhett and not East who broke into the house, he didn’t want to press charges. There’s not a doubt in my mind that he would have otherwise. I figure it’s one thing for East to get into trouble, but Gregory isn’t the kind of man who would allow that to happen to someone like Rhett. Gregory must still be hoping he’ll get Rhett in his life again, if only so he can try to control the oldest Swift brother. Even if Rhett doesn’t forgive him, it would look worse for Gregory if the town knew Rhett broke in as opposed to East. People look up to Rhett, see Rhett as an extension of Gregory, and he would never want to do something to change that.

“It’s not about that situation. It’s not about being with East at all.” Though in some ways, it is, if only because I would always choose East over anyone or anything else. “I just feel like I’ve done everything I can do here. It was never my dream. I was trying to fix something that I could never fix, make amends for something that I don’t have to make amends for. And now I want to see what else is out there.”

He nods, but the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he looks at me, I’m not sure he believes me. Which is fine. He doesn’t have to. What matters is knowing this is right for me.

“We’re going to miss you around here. You’re one hell of an officer.”

I nod in return. We finish our conversation, I fill out all the paperwork, and then I leave. In two weeks, I’ll no longer be Officer Archer Thorn. I’ve never given myself time to figure out exactly what I want. I’m happy to be doing it now.

I head to the car, then drive to East’s house. Well, home, I guess I should call it. We didn’t speak about me officially moving in when he gets back from his inpatient program, but he asked me to stay here with the dogs while he’s gone.

It’s only been eight days, and we haven’t gotten to talk as much as I’d like, but I know he’s where he needs to be. I’m proud as hell of him. And according to Dusty, Morgan has also made an appointment to start seeing a therapist. It’s past time they got the help they deserve, unlearning the toxic behaviors they were taught and realizing that none of what happened was their fault.

I’m not sure if Rhett is doing the same, but I can only hope he is.

I park in front of the house, the weather gray and getting cooler. As soon as I unlock the door, the dogs come spilling out, jumping and falling and telling me hello, before it’s clear they’re looking around for East.

“He’ll be home soon. I promise.”

My cell rings, and I pull it out of my pocket, hopeful that it’s him. My heart jumps when I see it’s from the facility where he’s at. Our calls are short, but I look forward to each and every one of them.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing?”

“Not great,” he replies honestly, which is a step in the right direction.

“Thank you for being honest with me.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too. So fucking much. How is the medication making you feel?” They started him on them when he first arrived but warned him that they can take a while to work—and find the right medication and dosage—and that the most important piece will be the therapy.

“I don’t notice much difference so far. I’m sleeping better, though.”

The dogs come in, I close the door, then sit on the couch. “That’s good. You need it. Pretty Girl and Casanova are at my feet. I think they know I’m talking to you.”

“I can’t wait to see them.”

“They can’t wait either.”

“I’m drawing you,” East says softly. “You said once you wanted me to draw you, and I’ve been doing it every day. Makes me feel…close to you.”

My heart swells. None of this is easy on East, but he’s there, and he’s trying so damn hard despite feeling that getting healthy means losing Ella. “I can’t wait to see them. Save them all for me, okay?”

He chuckles. “I will.” He’s quiet for a moment, and I wait him out. “We’re talking a lot…about you…about my family…about Ella. I want to tell you a happy story about her. I’m trying to talk about her more in a good way.”

“I’d like that.” I lean back against the couch and listen to East talk about their ninth birthday and how Ella sneaked the chocolate cake into their room because she knew it was his favorite, and how they ate it and played board games all night.

“Didn’t even matter that I got an upset stomach. We always had fun together. It was like having my best friend with me all the time. Having this connection where I felt what she did, and she felt what I did too. Like we could ease the pain for each other and made the joy feel doubly as good.”

My eyes mist over a little, and I wipe the tears away. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“How are Morgan and Dusty?”

“They’re good. We’re all damn proud of you.”

“Your job?” he asks. He knows I was going to quit today, and he was nervous about it.

“It’s done. And honestly, it feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”

“Are you sure it’s not because—”

“It’s not.”

“My therapist said I should trust you to make decisions for yourself. That I can’t take responsibility for your choices.”

“She’s right. I like her.”

We’re only able to talk for a couple more minutes before he says, “My time is up. I have to go. I love you.”

I smile. I’ll never get enough of hearing that. “I love you too.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Easton

This is hard work. Some days I want to leave, want to walk out and never come back. It’s a whole lot easier to stay miserable than to work on getting better, but I need to do this for me and Archer.

For me and my brothers.

For me and Ella, because she deserves for one of us to live.

“And what’s the common denominator in all of those?” my therapist, Julie, asks, and it only takes me a second to see where she’s going with this.

“Me. I need to do it for me.”

“Exactly.”

“I said I wanted it for myself before I got here, but I don’t think I believed it.”

“And now?”

“Now I do. That doesn’t always make it simple.”

“I know. That sucks, but you’re putting in the work, and you’re worth it.”

The thing is, I now believe that I am worth it. Or at least most of the time I do. Like Julie says, it’s not a straight path. Getting healthy has detours and potholes, forks in the road where I don’t know what direction to go. Sometimes I stumble a few feet back but then work on moving myself forward again. When we first started meeting, she talked a lot about my survivor’s guilt, and for some reason, that triggered me. I’m getting better and working through that now, on not feeling guilty for being here, which has been a huge catalyst for a lot of my struggles.

“I still miss her,” I say.

“That won’t go away. It’s okay to miss her.”

“Sometimes I want her to talk to me, want her back, but then I remind myself that I do still have her and no one can take that away from me.”

“That’s very true. They can’t. You used talking to her as a coping mechanism to work through your grief. Sometimes that can be a healthy way to process, but for you, I think it got to the point where it was unhealthy because of the length of time and because you used it as a means not to let her go.”

I nod, not doubting that she’s right. She’s given me so many new ways of seeing things, of understanding the whys of so much of how I’ve lived my life. When I first arrived, I was stuck on a diagnosis, wanting a name for what I’ve spent my life experiencing. Then one day, I decided it doesn’t matter. I’m just me, and all my experiences are mine and mine alone. What’s important is focusing on becoming a healthier version of myself, not on a label I couldn’t care less about. For me personally, there is something incredibly empowering in the freedom of focusing on myself and my experiences more than anything else.

“Simone had the baby…she’s a girl.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Excited. Happy. Scared that I’ll do something wrong. Sad and worried that because she’s a girl, she’ll make me think of Ella.”

“All valid emotions. I think anyone would feel them. Will you get to meet her right away when you leave?”

“Yeah. Daphne asked if they can have a get-together for me. It feels nice…to have family. Archer called me her uncle.” I smile, all that warmth he brings into my life making me light up from the inside. I wish Ella could be here for it all, and that won’t ever go away. I don’t think it’s supposed to. The point is that I learn to allow myself to live and be happy without her. Learn that it wasn’t my fault…and that it shouldn’t have been me. I’m on my way to doing that.

“It seems you like that.”

“I do.” I have so much to look forward to, so much to experience, and for the first time ever, the thought isn’t daunting. It’s…everything.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Archer

East ends up staying in his program until the first week of January. It’s been hard without him, but I’m willing to wait for him as long as it takes. The most important thing is to have a happy, healthy East.

It’s a two-hour drive to the facility where East is staying, made even longer because of the snow. My insides are jittery with excitement the whole time. I’m so ready to bring him home, to hold him and touch him and just…look at him. Fortunately, my eagerness for him makes the drive go faster, and before I know it, I’m pulling up at the facility.

East is waiting for me in the lobby, and as soon as he sees me, his blue eyes spark with a sort of happiness I’m not sure I’ve ever seen from him before. One that’s bright and blinding and the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen in the world.

“Come’ere,” I tell him, taking long strides his way. He pushes from his seat, and I wrap my arms around him. “God, I missed holding you.”

“I missed you too,” he replies, burying his face in my neck and breathing me in, his hold around me tight, squeezing me to him, showing me he feels just as strongly as I do.

“You got everything?”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Well, there are two eager dogs waiting for you in the truck, so we should get out there and see them.”

“You brought them?”

“Of course I did.”

“Let’s go,” he says, almost giddily.

East has already signed all his paperwork, so we head out to the truck, the cold air biting at my face as we go. The dogs go wild as soon as they see us. I’d known I couldn’t leave them at home. They missed East too much, and he missed them.

As soon as he opens the door, they jump all over him. He kneels, petting them and loving on them, wrapping his arms around them as they lick and whine, so damn happy he’s back.

They knock him on his ass, but East just laughs, my favorite fucking laugh, and one I hope to hear a whole lot more now. I know things won’t be perfect. There will be good days and bad days. This is a battle he might be fighting his whole life, but I’m hoping for more of the good days for him. Whatever happens, I’ll be right there with him.

“Honestly? That’s how I wanted to react when I saw you,” I tease, making East laugh. I hold out my hand for him, and he takes it, letting me pull him to his feet.

Once all the wiggles are out of the way, we climb into the truck to return to Birchbark.

“Anywhere you’re gonna need to stop? You hungry or need to pick up anything?”

“Just home. They gave me a prescription for my antidepressant and mood stabilizer. My first psychiatrist appointment is already scheduled for next week, and I start seeing my therapist weekly on Thursday.”

I reach over and thread my fingers through his as I drive.

“What’s new? What did I miss?”

I talk to him about Gracie’s, which is opening this month. I tell him about baby Hazel. “It’s so cool seeing my sister as a mom. I can’t wait for you to meet her. She’s so fucking perfect, East…this amazing little human. I’m in awe of her.”

“You want to be a dad.”

It’s something we talked about, but that was before we were serious like we are now. The truth is, I would like to be a dad one day, but I want him more than anything else. “I want what’s best for both of us, what we both want.” Because I’m not sure that’s in the cards for him.

“I don’t know if I’d be a good dad.”

“You’d be the best dad. No one would love their child like you.” Because most people don’t love like East, so completely, so thoroughly. “Your heart is too damn big for anything else.”

He nods, looks down at our entwined fingers, then raises our hands to kiss mine. I’m not sure what the future holds for us, but now isn’t the time to make any important decisions.

“Have you figured out what you’re gonna do?” he asks after a moment.

“I might go back to school to be an EMT like Mom. That’s what I originally planned…before Travis.”

“You’d be good at that.”

I wink. “I’m good at everything, sweetheart.”

East chuckles. “It’s so good to be home.”

“Wait until we get to the house. It’ll be even better.” I waggle my brows.

He nods but doesn’t play along with my sexual innuendo. We continue to talk the rest of the way home, with moments of silence where East looks out at the scenery. There’s something on his mind, but I trust he’ll tell me when he’s ready. He’s already done more talking than he used to.

The dogs run in ahead of us. As soon as we close the door, he says, “I’m worried about sex.”

My brows draw together. I’m not sure what he means. “We don’t have to jump right into that if you’re not ready.”

“No, no.” He shakes his head. “I want it. I missed having you inside me so fucking much, that connection I feel to you. But the medication might eventually interfere. The doctors said it can mess up my sex drive. I don’t want to lose that with you, how it makes us feel. I don’t want to take that away from you either, and I’m scared it won’t be the same. That neediness I feel for you…I want it, Arch. Always. Want the way it makes me feel. I’ve lost so fucking much. I don’t want to lose that too. I talked to my therapist about it, and she said to be honest with you about it, so that’s what I’m doing.”

I can’t help smiling as I walk toward him, as I hold his face in my hands the way I’ve wanted to do so many times over the last few months. “You’re such a good boy for telling me that.”

He trembles, a soft moan sneaking past his lips.

“We’ll figure it out. All of it. Together. We’re in too deep, East. That way you need me, I need you too. That’s not something that changes, or gets fixed, because there’s nothing wrong with it. There’s nothing wrong with how we love each other. It’s every fucking thing that’s right in the world, even if there might be changes. If there are physical difficulties, we’ll work through those too.”

East pushes closer, presses his groin against mine, the thick rod of his erection rubbing against me. “There’s none right now.” He slides his hand between our bodies, palming my swollen cock. “I need you.”

“I need you too.”

We kick out of our shoes, then race each other up the stairs. I almost trip, and East laughs, this freeness to him that is exhilarating to me. The second we’re in our room, we’re tugging out of our clothes, naked together, kissing and touching, our hands eager and our mouths starving for each other.

“God, you feel so good,” I say, grabbing his ass, running my hands up and down his torso, needing to be skin on skin with him.

“You too, baby.”

I grin into our kiss. “Baby…I like that.”

“Figured I’d give it a try.”

“And?” I cock a brow.

“I like it too,” East replies, dropping down to his knees. He looks up at me, heat in his blue eyes, hand around my shaft, then kisses the head of my cock. When he pulls back, a string of precum goes with him, connecting his lips to my dick.

“That is the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”

He takes me deep, the hot suction of his mouth sliding up and down my cock. My balls ache, dick pulsing with the need to come already. It’s been so damn long since I’ve been with him, since I felt him, and somehow, he feels even better than before.

East jacks me as he sucks me, only pulling off to bury his face in my balls, sucking in deep breaths. “Missed the way you smell. Can’t get enough of it. God, I thought about it so fucking much.” He licks them and sucks them before taking my cock into his mouth again.

“You too, sweetheart. It took me an embarrassing amount of time to change the sheets after you left. Wanted your scent to linger as long as possible.” I cup the back of his head, feel the strands of his hair against my palm, push forward and fuck his face a little. “I want to come down your throat so bad. Want the taste of me on your tongue, but I need your ass too, need to fill your hole with my load. We both know that’s where it belongs.”

He pulls off me with a gasp, shoves to his feet, then tugs me to the bed. We fall onto it, kissing and smiling into each other’s mouths, as I fumble for the lube.

“You’re gonna have to get me ready a little, but then I want you to fuck me hard and fast. I need it so much. We’ll go slow next time.”

Because there will be a next time, and a next time, and a next time. We’re an always, me and him.

East lies on his back, looking up at me. I shove a pillow beneath his hips, then pump lube onto my fingers. He spreads his legs eagerly.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have you…that this is mine. You’re mine. You always will be.” I push my finger into him, our eyes never breaking contact.

East arches up, a deep breath whooshing from his lungs. “Been waiting months for this. Been holding my breath months for it.”

“Goddamn, I love you.” I fuck him with one finger, then two, twisting and opening him up for me. My dick is leaking, his doing the same against his belly. My skin prickles with energy, with this feeling of rightness I only get from him.

“That’s enough. Just fuck me, baby. Need you so much.”

“Christ, me too.” I pull my fingers out, lube up my cock, then press inside him, his body letting me in like it’s been waiting for me. It’s so hot inside him, so tight, made for my cock, as we stare into each other’s eyes while I fill him.

Somehow, the blue in his gaze is brighter than I’ve ever seen it, even more than it was when I picked him up, like everything about him had been dimmed before but now he was setting himself free.

I lean down and kiss his lips, once, twice, then pull back and snap my hips forward again.

“Needed this. More,” he begs.

I give it to him the way East needs, the way we both do, hard and fast, claiming. Taking what we missed and showing each other that no matter what happens, we’ll find a way to have this, to have everything we want.

I pull out just to tug him up. He moves so he’s on his hands and knees, and then I’m filling him again, fingers digging into his hips, East pushing back, fucking himself on me, taking what’s his.

“Oh fuck. God. You don’t even know. Nothing like having you inside me, feeling you and knowing you’re mine.”

“So fucking yours,” I reply, then tug him up, still on his knees, his back against my chest.

East turns his head so I can take his mouth, my tongue fucking into it while our hips snap together, his ass sucking me in, welcoming me home.

There’s a tingle at the base of my spine, a warmth filling my gut. I chase the sensation while wrapping a hand around his cock, stroking him and kissing him and fucking him.

East cries out into the kiss, his ass tightening around me, the hot spurt of his cum sliding between my fingers. My balls draw up, empty into him, my vision blurry as I twitch and fill him with everything that’s inside me.

We fall to the mattress together, a heap of sweating limbs, heavy breaths, and sated bodies.

“Come’ere.” I pull him to me, East automatically hooking his leg over my hip, kissing me while I push two fingers into his cummy hole.

We just breathe each other in for a moment, hold each other, before he says, “Feels like it did before…only…”

“Better,” we say in unison, smiling. It was perfect before, but some fucking way, it’s even better now.

“Will you move in with me?” East asks.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be. As long as you don’t mind that I’m unemployed,” I tease.

“I don’t care.”

“I can sell my house…”

“Yes. That. Do that.”

I smile and kiss him again, slide my fingers in and out of him, ready to take on whatever the future holds. We can beat anything as long as we’re together.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Easton

Everyone is already at Daphne and Frank’s house when we arrive—Morgan, Dusty, Rhett, Cass, Meadow, Cora, Simone, and baby Hazel.

It’s Daphne who reaches me first, that kind smile on her face that reminds me of how a mom looks at her child. “We missed you.”

I look down, slightly embarrassed. “Missed you too.” I pull her into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers. “Allison would be too.”

My heart pounds in the best way. I want that. Want my mom to be proud of me, but also… “I’m proud of me too.”

Everyone says their hellos, offering hugs and pats on the back. I can’t pretend my stomach isn’t a mess, that nerves aren’t wreaking havoc on me. That there won’t always be parts of me that shy away from attention or want to slink into the background. That’s just who I am, and that will never change. And I’m okay with that. But this? This is really fucking nice too.

“You look good,” Morgan says, pulling me into a hug.

“I feel good. Maybe not totally good, but better. Are you?”

“Yeah, still seeing the therapist. We’re in this together, little brother.”

“I like the sound of that.”

He steps back for Rhett to approach, my oldest brother looking unsure. “You did good, East,” he finally says.

“Yeah, I did.”

“I’m proud of you. I…yeah, good job. You deserve it.” He surprises me with a hand on the back of my head, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead.

I don’t know how to react for a moment. I’m twenty-eight years old—I spent my birthday in inpatient—and that’s the first time in my life my brother has ever kissed me.

“Uncle Archer’s been bringing me to your house. I’ve been playing with the dogs a lot. I made them some new clothes too,” Meadow says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Hey, you.” I smile at her. “Thank you. I’m sure they love them. I appreciate your hanging out with them while I was gone. Hope you’ll still come over now that I’m back.”

“I have a room at Uncle Archer’s house…”

“He’s gonna live with me…you can have a room at mine too.”

Meadow grins, and I feel like a million fucking dollars.

After all the hellos, everyone congregates in the living room. The house smells like some kind of stew, which is perfect for the cold weather outside.

Simone is sitting in an armchair, holding a little bundle in her arms.

“Go say hello,” Cora says, giving me the push I need.

I walk over and kneel beside her. Hazel’s got tons of dark hair, curly like her mom’s, now that Simone has taken it out of her braids. She’s sleeping, her little eyes closed, cheeks squishy.

“Meet your niece, Uncle Easton,” Simone tells me. It’s been said before, but hearing it now, in this situation, makes my head snap up, looking at Cora and Archer, at their parents, these people who have so lovingly taken me into their family.

“I…thank you. She’s beautiful.” My eyes tear up.

“Do you want to hold her?” Cora asks.

“Can I?”

“Of course,” Simone replies.

I’ve never held a baby before, and Simone stands so I can sit, then puts her in my arms. “She’s so small. I’m scared I’ll hurt her.”

“You won’t,” Cora insists.

I lean over, smell her baby scent, kiss her forehead…think of Ella…and smile. She loved baby dolls when we were kids, used to talk about being a mom, and though she’s not speaking to me in my head, I feel her, know she’s smiling and happy for me.

I hold the baby for a long while. Everyone talks around me and to me, but I’m distracted by the little bundle in my arms. She’s so small, so sweet. She smells like the future, and I just want to watch her breathe.

Frank asks about Morgan’s bar, and I listen, still looking at the baby.

“I think it’s going to be real good,” Morgan says.

“He got a surprise delivery of these incredible handcrafted barstools,” Dusty says. “We have no idea where they’re from, but they’re perfect.”

My head snaps up, my gaze landing on Rhett. I remember the table in his house…when he came out covered in sweat and sawdust…and I know they’re from him. That he’s…making furniture? It’s so far removed from what I ever imagined for Rhett. I didn’t even know he likes working with his hands, but I know to the marrow of my bones that it’s true, that he makes things and that he did this for Morgan.

I open my mouth, but he gives a small shake of his head, and I close it again.

“They’re my favorite thing in the place,” Morgan says. “I wish I knew where they came from so I could thank whoever sent them, maybe order some more products.”

As much as I want Rhett to get the credit for it, and want to ask him a million questions, I don’t. I let him have his secrets. They’re his to share.

When I look down, Hazel’s looking at me with these big brown eyes. She wiggles. “Oh, you’re awake.” I freeze, unsure what to do. Please don’t cry, please don’t cry, please don’t cry.

She smiles. I touch her little hand, and she wraps it around my finger, then smiles again.

“She likes you.” Archer sits on the arm of the chair.

“I like her too.”

He kisses the top of my head, and we sit there together, admiring the baby, talking to each other and just enjoying her. It’s not long before Daphne says dinner’s done, and Hazel is getting hungry, so I give her back to Simone so she can feed her.

“I’d let you do this part if you could,” she teases because she’s breastfeeding.

Conversation is loud and happy as we eat the stew Daphne made. They ramble about Archer’s upcoming EMT program and act in a way I’ve never seen my family do. Rhett is the quietest, and when I look over, I notice Meadow is sitting beside him, speaking to him softly. Cass is on the other side of her, watching his daughter interact with him.

When we finish lunch, Meadow says, “Ooh, it’s snowing again,” and a thought flickers in my head…snowball fights with Ella. I haven’t had one since I did it with her.

I take Archer’s hand. “Come outside with me.” We put on our coats and gloves. He tugs my beanie onto my head for me, taking care of people he loves the way he’s so good at.

“Where are we going?”

“To have a snowball fight.” My stomach twists, and I see the light go on in his eyes. He knows what this is, what it means.

“Good boy,” he says softly, just for me. I still like that, still want it. Want to be Archer’s good boy.

“Should I invite the others?”

“If you want. That’s all up to you.”

I never would have done this before, and honestly, it’s a little embarrassing, but it feels like honoring Ella too. She would love a big family like this, would love everyone playing in the snow the way she loved.

“We’re going outside,” I tell everyone. “I’m gonna beat Archer in a snowball fight, if anyone wants to join.”

I feel Morgan’s and Rhett’s gazes on me but can’t make myself look at them.

“That sounds fun!” Daphne says.

Everyone grabs their gear, putting it all on. Simone says she’s going to stay inside with the baby, and when Cora tries to do the same, she ushers her wife out with us.

I’m the first one to collect a ball of snow in my hand, and I watch it soar through the air and hit Archer’s shoulder.

“This means war!” he says, making a snowball.

Everyone starts in on each other, laughing and throwing snow at one another, except Rhett, who’s standing some distance away, taking it all in.

“Come play with us, Mr. Rhett,” Meadow calls to him.

“It’s not really my thing,” he replies just as snow clocks him in the chest.

Rhett’s head jerks to the side, shock on his face, and my gaze follows his to find a laughing Tripp Cassidy.

“You gonna let me win, or what?” Cass asks, bending down to grab more, and then…then Rhett does the same, balling snow into his hand and throwing it.

“This is nice,” I tell Archer.

“You have family. You’re loved.”

“I know.” I look up at the sky, feel snowflakes landing on my face, laughter all around me.

I’m going to be happy, Ella. For you and for me.

She doesn’t answer, but I don’t need her to.

Continue The Swift Brothers with Rhett!

Want to read Morgan and Rhett’s conversation at Gracie’s? Grab the short bonus scene!

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Other Books by Riley Hart

Series by Riley Hart:

Inevitable

Franklin U

The Swift Brothers

Secrets Kept

Briar County

Atlanta Lightning

Blackcreek

Boys In Makeup with Christina Lee

Broken Pieces

Crossroads

Fever Falls with Devon McCormack

Finding

Forbidden Love with Christina Lee

Havenwood

Jared and Kieran

Last Chance

Metropolis with Devon McCormack

Rock Solid Construction

Saint and Lucky

Stumbling Into Love

Wild side

Standalone books:

On the Mountain

Boyfriend Goals

Strings Attached

Beautiful & Terrible Things

Love Always

Endless Stretch Of Blue

Looking For Trouble

His Truth

Risk the Fall

Standalone books with Devon McCormack:

No Good Mitchell

Beautiful Chaos

Weight Of The World

Up For The Challenge

Standalone books with Christina Lee:

Science & Jockstraps

Of Sunlight and Stardust

About the Author

Riley Hart’s love of all things romance shines brightly in everything she writes. Her primary focus is Male/Male romance but under various pen names, her prose has touched practically every part of the spectrum of love and relationships. The common theme that ties them all together is stories told from the heart.

A hopeless romantic herself, Riley is a lover of character-driven plots, many with flawed and relatable characters. She strives to create stories that readers can not only fall in love with, but also see themselves in. Real characters and real love blended together equal the ultimate Riley Hart experience.

When Riley isn’t creating her next story, you can find her reading, traveling, or dreaming about reading or traveling, spending time with her two snarky kids, and swoony husband.

Riley Hart is represented by Jane Dystel at Dystel, Goderich & Bourret Literary Management. She’s a 2019 Lambda Literary Award Finalist for Of Sunlight and Stardust.