Something in him twisted, seeing the last Metcalfe family photo she set on the mantel at Mom’s home. Taken when he’d won the governor’s race, when Marie at least acknowledged he existed. He eyed his siblings in the photo—Willow, Range, Canyon with Dani and their children. Leif had missed it, being on mission tracking down the woman who eventually became his wife. But the face that was a sucker punch … his own son. He still couldn’t believe Marie had let Jack come that weekend. He hadn’t seen him since. A raw burn started in his chest.
“How’re you?”
What surprised Stone wasn’t the question but that Brooke almost sounded like she really wanted to know. But she didn’t. Her M.O. was small talk until she got to the real point.
“Fine.” He knew how to get her off topic. “What about you? Staying for the night?”
She shifted her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “I … ” Out of the six siblings, she and Range had the darkest hair, though Brooke colored hers even darker. Anything to separate herself from the Metcalfe legacy, he guessed. She took in the condo. “Yes, I might stay a few days.” She shrugged. “If that’s okay.”
Stone started. “Seriously?”
“What? Is it too much to ask?”
His sister never wanted to stick around, acting like the rest of them had the plague. Or that she was better than them, more enlightened. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I’ll pay for my own room,” her voice pitched. “I’m not asking for charity!”
“Whoa, hold up. Chill. I’m just surprised. You never have time—”
“Yeah, well, I’m handling the closing on Mom’s house and … a few other things. And she’s been a bit distressed leaving the house and seemed like she could use some help adjusting.” Her words tumbled out on top of each, as if trying to flee the truth that hovered at the back of her throat—the truth, because Mom was a grown woman used to handling life without her kids doing it for her. As if reading his thoughts, she crossed her arms and shrugged. “But if it’s a problem …”
“It’s not.” Whatever was going on had to be serious for Brooke to suggest spending more than a few hours with family. “We have plenty of rooms.”
The front door bopped open and in trotted Grief, come to own the place as he inspected boxes, no doubt wondering what happened to his home.
Brooke drew back at his dog as if he were a demon. “Cannot believe you have that thing here!”
“Thing?” He scruffed Grief’s broad skull. “This is my best friend.”
“Which is saying something.”
“At least I have one.” Man, sibling rivalry never ended, did it?
“I love the little desk nook!” Mom exclaimed as she reappeared, glowing. “And what a great idea to have a sink and built-in ironing board in the laundry room, too.”
“Unless you’d rather housekeeping do it.” Stone grinned, anticipating her response.
“I will not have strangers laundering my unmentionables!”
He laughed. “Thought you’d say that.”
Her soft, blue eyes settled on him. She drew in a long breath and slowly let it out. “I like this.” She nodded, hesitation and wariness falling away. “I like it a lot—even more because we’ll be close again.” She lifted her hands. “And don’t worry. I have no desire to be in your business, as I’m sure you don’t have any to be in mine. But this … this is good.”
Her words were ominous because Clara Mulroney Metcalfe had that gleam in her eye, that certain twist to her mouth, that said she was planning exactly what she said she wouldn’t do?—get in his business.
Chapter
Two
Austin, Texas
Every client took a piece of her soul.
Though she’d showered before leaving the hotel room, Brighton Buchanan would never again feel clean. She strode out and stepped into the elevator, Finch behind her. She turned, her back against the mirrored surface, and watched him press the button for the lobby. When the car slowed to a stop on the fifth floor and the doors slid open, he blocked the way but said nothing.
A man with a high-and-tight scowled. “Public elevator, dude.” But then he seemed to see something?—probably the weapon holstered beneath Finch’s jacket?—and palmed the air, shifting backward. “Easy, easy, Big Guy.” His gaze struck hers.
His expression gauged her?—was she okay???—but she shook her head, warning him to leave it alone. Confrontation with Finch never ended well for the other person. Besides, it just wasn’t worth it. Nobody could help her. She was here because of what she was and what she’d done. There was no out. She’d accepted that long ago.
