He crouched down so we were eye to eye, close enough that I could see the golden flecks in his hazel eyes, close enough that the warmth of his breath brushed my skin.
“Tell me you didn’t back off,” he said, his voice urgent.“Tell me you didn’t drop the charges.”
The world narrowed until it was just him and me.His gaze burned, raw and desperate, and my pulse thundered in my ears.
“What is going on?”Chase’s voice cracked like thunder.
Mason straightened beside me, his posture tense.
Brody didn’t move, didn’t look away.His focus was solely on me.“Cassidy,please.Tell me you didn’t let that fucker off the hook to save me.I’m not worth it.And he deserves whatever’s coming.”
Without thought, I was standing.My chair scraped back so hard it made my teeth rattle, but I didn’t care.I was on my feet, my chest heaving, staring up at Brody like I could burn a hole through him.
“Excuse me?”My voice cracked sharp enough to slice the air.“You are not worth it?What the fuck is that, Brody?You are wortheverything.”
The words left me shaking, breathless.His hazel eyes locked on mine, steady, relentless, and for a heartbeat, I thought I’d forget how to breathe.He was so close I could feel his warmth, the scent of woodsmoke and clean air clinging to him.
“Cass…” His voice was low, rough.Too much.
Mason shifted behind me.“Uh...”
Clara had moved next to us, motioning to Mason to stay quiet, but I didn’t even glance at them.My whole world narrowed to Brody.
“Please,” he said, a frustrated growl escaping him.“Just tell me you didn’t let him off the hook.Not for me.Not for Mason.Not for anyone.I couldn’t live with that.”
“Do I need to start throwing punches?”Chase demanded, his glare locked on Brody.
Something inside me snapped, “I didn’t drop the charges,” I bit out, my hands trembling at my sides.“I had a visitor at Adam’s during the snowstorm.And I told him my side.I told himmytruth.I gave him a different perspective.”
He studied me for what felt like forever, the muscle in his jaw tight, his eyes searching mine like he needed proof.Then suddenly his arms were around me, pulling me into his chest like he couldn’t stand another inch of space between us.
“Good,” he murmured into my hair.His voice broke a little, sending a shiver through me.“Because you shouldn’t carry that alone.And because he deserves every consequence coming his way.”
My fists curled in his soft flannel, my heart pounding against his ribs, and for a second I let myself melt into him, just for a second.I let his scent wrap around me like a blanket.I felt him nuzzle into my hair.
"Brody...What the fuck?"
I jerked back, Brody’s hands falling from my back, and when I turned, my brother’s face was storm-dark, his fists balled like he was ready to fight.
“Chase!”I snapped, again, my voice was shaking.“Are you serious right now?Do you really think Brody would ever hurt me?After everything?”
Brody didn’t move.Didn’t flinch.His eyes stayed on Chase, steady as stone.“You know I’d never hurt her, you know me.”
The air was thick with it, the kind of tension that makes your skin itch.I could hear Clara whispering something to Mason, trying to cut through the silence, but it didn’t matter.
Then Adam’s voice boomed from behind us, way too loud, way too cheerful.“Well, shit.Did I miss the tickets for the main event?If there’s a Palmer-Morgan brawl and I don’t get a front-row seat, I’m issuing a formal complaint.Where's momma Morgan?”
The tension shattered.Clara groaned.Mason pinched the bridge of his nose.And somehow, against all odds, I laughed.Just a sharp, broken laugh that tore out of me before I could stop it.
Adam grinned like he’d planned it all along.“That’s better.Now, how about we sit down, eat some pie, and not scare away the paying customers, yeah?”
Chase muttered under his breath, while watching us with a careful eye.Brody didn’t move far from me; he was in constant contact.A hand, a knee, a thigh.Like he couldn't bear to be apart from me, it should have felt suffocating, but it didn't.It felt comforting.
It felt like home.
Chapter 36
Spring came early that year, restless and wet, turning the roads to slush and the fields to rivers of mud.I measured the days not by the calendar but by the way the light fell on my desk: longer now, brighter, though I still caught myself staring past the window at trees that refused to bloom.
