Page 107 of Last Resort

“I know I do.”

“Whatever happened to good, old-fashioned negotiations?” I quirk an eyebrow.

His laugh is low and deep. “There is no negotiating when it comes to us. Ever.”

“Ever?”

He presses a kiss to my lips. “Ever.”

EPILOGUE

Sutton

One Year Later

The sound of laughter echoing from the outside patio makes me smile. It’s hard for me to decipher whose laugh is whose because when the three of them are together like this, they sound the same.

Another laugh sounds off and my heart swells in my chest.

Who knew these weekends away at their father’s estate in Sag Harbor would further heal the wounds and strengthen the bonds they have been mending over the past twelve months?

Their agreement to meet here once a month, away from the office, with the promise of no talk about work while they slowly go through their father’s things he left behind, hasn’t wavered.

Every month they come.

Every month they go through pieces of their past and learn more of their father’s history.

Every month they grow closer.

I peek out the open French doors to watch them. Callahan is sitting forward, his elbows on his knees, a beer in one hand, his smile wide. Ledger sits across from him in a similar position, while Ford is pushing photographs out of a box across the table toward them.

Photos their father had kept over the years. Moments captured that allow them to reminisce or learn something new altogether.

It’s the first time Callahan has asked me to come along on his monthly helicopter flight out here. I told him I didn’t want to come. That him being here with his brothers was more important than anything.

He insisted.

“We’ve gone through all the legal, hard-to-deal-with stuff. We’ve hashed out our differences on that. This weekend we’re going through pictures.”

“I still don’t feel right. Like it’s an invasion of privacy,” I say.

“I want you there, Collins.” He kisses me and pulls me against him. “I need you there.”

And even though I feared Ledger and Ford might resent me being here, being a part of something so very personal to them, they’ve made me feel like part of the family during the past twenty-four hours.

“Do you remember that?” Ford can barely get the words out he’s laughing so hard.

“Fuck. I got in so much trouble for that one,” Callahan says, holding the picture and staring at it.

“You?” Ledger all but spits his beer out. “You’re the one who poured the bleach on the lawn and spelled D-I-C-K, and I’m the one who got in trouble when I was just trying to clean it up.”

“I told you to use spray paint to hide it,” Callahan says. “Works like a charm.”

“Fucker,” Ledger says but laughs.

There is an ease between the three of them that is so inviting, so welcoming, I step into the open doorway and simply smile.

Callahan notices me and motions for me to sit beside him.