“And you know what I realized?”
“What’s that?”
“I could waste this life I’ve been given, take for granted the things that my brother has sacrificed to give me opportunities he never had,”—he grins, the slow kind that says he knows I’m hanging on his every word—“or I can make it everything I want it to be.”
“Is this”—I motion between us—“everything you want it to be?”
“Ice cream with a beautiful woman?” He nods, his hair falling over his forehead. “Definitely.”
“And what if I was toalsomake this everything I want and ask you to come home with me?” Heat creeps up my neck but Ihold his gaze, trying my best to exude the confidence he seems to possess so naturally.
Mason smiles, reaching across the table to tangle his fingers with mine. Jacob was never this touchy with me and, God, we’d been married for over ten years. And somewhere along the way, I’d convinced myself that I didn’t need him to hold my hand—I could hold my own damn hand if I wanted.
But in this moment, I can see how starved I was for physical intimacy. How even for just tonight, I’ll throw caution to the wind just to have a taste of what I’ve been missing.
“I’d say it’s damn near the best day of my life.”
4
MASON
Following Lana through the streets of Blackstone Falls has my heart halfway to beating out of my chest. “I Hold On” by Dierks Bentley plays on the radio. It’s one of my favorites, and I take it as a sign that there’s a real kind of magic in the air.
MASON: I won’t be home tonight
BODHI: Wear protection
MASON: (eyeroll emoji)
BODHI: What’s her name?
MASON: Lana
MASON: She’s the one
BODHI: What one?
MASON: THE one
BODHI: You just met her today
MASON: Mark my words brother—I’m gonna marry this woman
BODHI: Consider them marked and wear protection
MASON: Be easy brother
BODHI: Easy and free
The words pingaround my head the way they always do. We don’t use them often, and sometimes I think he’s outgrown the back-and-forth, but to me, they’re sacred. They started as something just for us—a bond between brothers. But it had been a comfort more nights than I can count.
Lana’s car signals ahead, and it pulls me back to the present as she parks in the driveway of a small ranch house. The landscape is tidy, and two rocking chairs sit on the porch.
Pulling in next to her, I turn off my truck and take a breath. An addictive kind of energy hums through my veins, that feeling that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. I push open the door, and she watches me as I unfold myself from the driver’s seat and make my way over to where she stands with her arms crossed over her chest.
“You cold?”
She smiles. “A little. This jacket is more for fashion than function.”
