Kitabı oku: «The By Request Collection», sayfa 23
Two
Brooks’s touch was like a jolt of electricity running the course of her body. One touch, one simple finger to her cheek, one slight meshing of his whiskey-flavored lips with hers, was giving her amnesia about the other men in her life. Men who’d trampled on her heart. Men like Trace, who’d taken from her and hadn’t given back. Trace, the man she’d waited for all these months. She squeezed that notion from her mind.
Her time to wait was over.
Brooks’s giving and patient mouth didn’t demand. Instead, he encouraged her to partake and enjoy. She liked that about this man. He wasn’t a player of women. No, her gladiator and presumptive keeper of her virtue was a man of honor. He didn’t take. He gave. And that’s exactly why she’d decided to come to his room tonight.
She placed her trust in him.
He wasn’t asking her to bare her soul. But she would bare her body. For him.
Her fingers nimbly played with the tiny white buttons on her blouse until the material slipped from her shoulders, trapping her arms. Cool night air grazed her exposed skin.
Brooks’s sharp intake of breath reached her ears. “You’re unbelievably beautiful.”
He worked the sleeves of her blouse down her arms until they gathered at her wrists. He held her there, mercilessly tugging her closer until her bra brushed his torso. “Yeah, I like you in red.” He stroked her hair and then snapped the silky strap of her bra.
“It’s my color,” she whispered, and he smiled.
“I won’t disagree.”
He nipped at her lips then, several times, until his mouth claimed hers again. The kiss swept her into another world, where the only thing that mattered, all that she felt, was the pleasure he was giving. His tongue plunged in and met hers in a sparring match that ignited a fiery inferno within her. Whimpering, she ached for his touch. Finally his fingers dipped inside her bra to caress her nipples. Everything unfolded from there—the pleasure too great, the sighs too loud, the hunger too strong.
He worked magic with his mouth while his hands found the fastener of her bra. Within seconds, and none too soon, she was free of her blouse and restraints. Her breasts spilled out into his awaiting hands, and the small ache at her core began to pulse as he touched, fondled and caressed her. She was pinned to the spot, unwilling to move, unwilling to take a step, his invisible hold on her body too strong. Her nipples stood erect and tightened to pebble hardness. Aching for more, she leaned way back and was granted the very tip of his tongue dampening her with moisture.
“Oh, so good, Brooks.”
His outstretched palms bracing the small of her back, he answered only with a low guttural groan.
And once he was through ravaging her, he brought her up to eye level, drinking her in from top to bottom. Shaking his head, he fixed his gaze on the full measure of her breasts. She had a large bust for a petite woman and this time she didn’t mind having a man’s eyes transfixed on her. “I can’t believe you,” he muttered. “You’re not real.”
The compliment went straight to her head.
Brooks was a city dude, a man who didn’t fit in her world, yet here she was, nearly naked with him and enjoying every sensual second of it.
“I’m very real,” she breathed, closing the gap between them and lacing her arms around his neck. His erection stood like a stout monument, and there was no missing it. “And I want more.”
“Whatever the lady wants,” he said, running his hands up and down the sides of her body, his fingertips grazing the sides of her breasts. Another round of heat pinged her as anticipation grew.
He turned her around, came up behind her and slowly grazed the waistband of her jeans with his hands. His powerful arms locked her in, and his mouth was doing a number on her throat while his long fingers nudged her sweet spot. She murmured her approval, and lights flashed before her eyes. He stroked between her thighs, and a cry ripped from her throat. And then he was pulling the zipper of her jeans down, slowly, torturously, his erection behind her, a thrilling reminder of what was to come.
“Kick off your boots,” he whispered in her ear.
Goose bumps erupted on her arms.
Her legs were a mass of jelly.
She kicked her boots off obediently, and then his index fingers were inside her waistband, gently lowering the jeans down her legs. She stepped out of them easily. “Red lace panties,” he murmured appreciatively. He cupped one cheek, fitting her left buttock in his palm. He stroked her, smoothing his hand up and over, up and over. “Oh, man,” he muttered, the heat of his body bathing her.
From where she stood with her back against his chest, she felt his body shudder. Quickly she turned around. The room was dimly lit with a sole lamp, and they were cast in shadow, but there was enough light to see a deep, burning hunger in his eyes.
“Lie down on the bed,” he told her.
Her heart was pounding like a drum, beating hard, beating fast. He was a man who took control. She wasn’t one to obey so easily, but there was a look in his eyes telling her to trust him. She did as she was told and lay on the queen bed, naked but for the panties she wore.
His gaze roamed over her body, slowly, the gleam in his eyes filled with promise.
“Galahad?”
“Hmm?”
“Having second thoughts?”
He laughed at her, giving his head a shake. “Are you kidding me? You have no idea...”
“What?”
“...how turned on I am. I’m trying to keep from jumping your bones, Ruby.”
She glanced at the flagpole erection bulging in his pants. “What if I want you to jump my bones? Isn’t that why we’re here?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah, but... I want this night to last.”
She rolled to the side and leaned on her elbow. His eyes sought the spill of her hair touching her breasts. “Come to bed, Brooks. I’m a big girl. I can take whatever you have in mind.”
“Doubtful, honey. What I’m thinking...”
She grabbed his hand and tugged. He landed on his butt in an upright position on the bed. “Do it, Brooks. But first take off your clothes.”
He grinned. “How did I get so lucky?”
“Judging by the cut of your cloth, you were probably born lucky.” She was guessing.
He grunted. And that was all the reply he gave her.
Sitting up on her knees, she helped him lift his shirt over his head and pull off his boots between kisses. Her hands sought his chest, all powerful and rippled with muscle, smooth and hard, like the planes of a solid board. She reveled in touching him, her fingertips toying with his flattened nipples.
That move landed her on her back, her arms locked by one strong hand above her head. “Two can tease,” he said.
And then he was pulling her panties down and touching her where she’d prayed he’d touch. Her body instantly responded, and soft moans rose from her throat. She undulated with each stroke of his hand, each caress of a fingertip. He kept her pinned down, covering her with his body, the soft flesh of his palm applying pressure at the apex of her thighs.
“I’m... I’m going to lose it,” she moaned, the pleasure unbearable.
“Don’t fight it, honey,” he rasped.
And then she shattered, and spasms wracked her lower body in beautiful jolts that electrified her body. Her hips were arched, and she didn’t remember how they got that way. Slowly she lowered herself and finally opened her eyes to swim in Brooks’s deep blue gaze. He watched her carefully, a satisfied smile on his lips as he unzipped his pants and removed them.
“Your turn,” she said.
He shook his head. “Our turn.”
And then he fitted a condom on his erection and moved back over her.
His hands molded her breasts. His kiss went deep, his tongue delicious and probing. “Tell me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” he murmured before kissing her again.
She ran her hands through his longish blond hair, her fingers curling around the locks at the back of his neck. Then her gaze drifted to his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be more ready.”
He made a caveman sound, raw and brash, and then braced her in a protective way to roll them over on the bed. She found herself on top of him. “Set the pace, Ruby. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She bit the corner of her lip. Sure, she was petite, but Galahad worried that he was too big for her small frame. She could actually fall for a guy like this. She gave him a nod and straddled his thighs. “You won’t hurt me,” she said, fitting herself over his shaft, tossing her head back and shuddering from the feel of him inside her.
Then she began to move.
* * *
Spooned against Brooks’s large frame, with his arm resting possessively around her torso, Ruby slowly opened her eyes. It was past midnight and she’d promised Brooks she’d stay the night with him. She didn’t doubt her decision but instead smiled as he snuggled her closer and brought his hand to rest just under her breast.
“Are you awake?” he whispered, his breath warm on her neck.
“Just,” she answered. “I dozed.”
“Me, too. I haven’t been this relaxed in a long time.”
“Had a lot on your mind lately?” she murmured.
“You have no idea. But I don’t want to talk about that right now.”
His hand made lazy circles around her breast, his fingers feathery light over her nipple. Her body heated instantly. He had the ability to make her yearn, and the longing was potent. His leg moved over both of hers, and she was locked to him now, the soft flesh of her thighs meeting with legs of steel.
“I don’t want to talk at all,” he said, fisting her hair and planting kisses at the back of her neck. “Do you?”
“No.” Oh God, what he was doing to her? Her body flamed. She was going up in smoke. “Talking is overrated. Not when we could be doing better things.”
Ruby had never given herself so freely before. She’d never really been the bad girl, and everyone who knew her well knew that for a fact. She’d had only three relationships in her twenty-six years, and only the last one had really meant anything to her. The last one had hurt her.
She’d been in love.
Or so she’d thought.
But tonight with Brooks was different. It was all about having a man appreciate her. Give to her. Excite her and make her feel like a woman.
He rolled over on top of her, careful of her small frame, his hands bracing the bed on both sides of her head. She gazed into his deep blue eyes. “I want you again, Ruby.”
Ruby smiled. “I want you, too.”
He nodded and let go of a deep breath. “I was praying you’d say that, honey.”
He bent his head and touched his mouth to hers. Already the taste of him, the firmness of his lips, seemed familiar and welcome. She’d never see him again. She wasn’t in the market for a man. But Brooks would leave her with a good memory.
And then his mouth moved from her lips down her chest toward her navel, streaming kisses along the way. Her hips lifted; she was eager and willing, waiting. She didn’t have to wait long. He touched his tongue to her center and suckled her sweetest spot. She whimpered and moved wildly as his mouth performed magic. It was a torturous, beautiful few minutes of pleasure. And when she was on the brink, ready for a powerful release, he rose over her and joined their bodies. Oh...it was bliss, the best of the best as he moved inside her. And then, moments later, his eyes darkened, his body stiffened and every sensation between them intensified. He moaned her name, an utterance of pleasured pain, and then he broke apart at the seams. It was enough to turn her inside out, and she, too, shuddered with an incredible release.
“Wow,” she said once her breathing returned to normal.
“Yeah, wow,” he said, keeping her close. He kissed her forehead, stroked her hair and tucked her body into his.
She closed her eyes and waited for the exquisite hum of her body to ease her into sleep.
* * *
Brooks tiptoed back into the room, holding two cups of coffee and a white paper bag filled with muffins and buttered biscuits from the café at the inn. There wasn’t a croissant to be had in this hokey Texas town, and he liked that about this place. Clean, simple and... He glanced at Ruby asleep in the bed, her hair smooth black granite against the pillow. Beautiful. Yep, Cool Springs left him with a good impression.
The mattress groaned as he sat down.
“Is that coffee I smell?” a soft, sultry voice whispered from the other end of the bed.
“Can’t fool you,” he said, turning to find Ruby coming to a sitting position. “Leaded and dark as mud.” Apparently that’s how they made coffee in Texas. He showed her the two cups.
“I think I love you,” she said, reaching for one. She’d worn one of his shirts to bed. The thing hung down to her knees and covered most of her up, but she still looked sexy as sin.
Her lips pursed as she blew on the rising steam.
He shook his head and talked down his lust. “Got biscuits, too, all buttered up, with honey.”
“I adore you even more,” she said. He handed her one and she wasted no time. She took a big bite, chewed with gusto and then took another bite.
“You’ve got an appetite.”
“I had a busy day and night.”
He joined in, sipping coffee and digging into the biscuits. “Maybe I should’ve taken you out for a nice big breakfast.”
She shook her head. “This is perfect,” she said, reaching for the bag from his hand. “What kind of muffins did you get?”
“Banana and blueberry. So, you wouldn’t want to go out for breakfast with me?”
She chose blueberry. “It’s nothing personal, but showing up somewhere public at this hour will cause talk. You know what they say about small towns. All of it is true. And you don’t owe me anything, but I appreciate your gallantry.”
“Just call me Galahad.”
“I do.” She laughed before putting her teeth into the muffin.
He laughed, too, and was sorry he had to leave Ruby behind. She wasn’t like most females he’d met, and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to put up a fuss about saying goodbye.
He wasn’t entirely sure he liked that idea, but he had a new life waiting for him. His emotions were keyed up, and he was too damn confused to add a woman to the mix.
They drank coffee and chatted quietly about nothing in particular. And after they’d taken their last sips, Brooks rose from the bed and began packing his belongings. “Sorry, but I have to hit the road soon. I have an important meeting.”
Ruby rose from the bed and padded over to him. “Brooks,” she said.
“Hmm?”
She stood before him, her expression unreadable. “Don’t forget your shirt.”
Slowly she began undoing the buttons, her nimble fingers working one after another. Once done, she shrugged out of the shirt, and it fell easily to her feet. His gaze fastened on a beautiful body in red lace. “Ruby,” he said, sucking in oxygen and pulling her into his arms, her skin smooth and her muscles toned under his fingertips. “I wish I could postpone my meeting.”
“No problem.” Her eyes were soft and warm. He was never going to forget that particular deep cocoa color. Who was he kidding? He was never going to forget her. That was for damn sure. “I’ve got a busy day myself. I’ll take a shower. You’ll probably be gone by the time I get out.”
Like a fool, he nodded. That was the plan. He had to leave. Now.
He claimed her lips one last time, putting all of himself into that kiss. Then, mustering every ounce of his willpower, he turned away from her. But a thought struck, and he reached into his pocket to pull out a business card. “In case,” he said with a lift of his shoulder, “I don’t know, if you want to talk. Or need me or something.” He set the card on the bedside table.
By the time he turned back around, she had disappeared into the bathroom.
“Goodbye, Brooks,” she said just as the door was closing.
The lock clicked.
He closed his eyes. It was time to get on with the rest of his life.
Three
Brooks pulled into the gates of Look Away Ranch, his gaze drawn to the size and scope of Beau Preston’s horse farm. The animals grazing freely in white-fenced meadowlands had a majestic presence. They were tall, their coats gleaming in browns and blacks and golds. Brooks didn’t know much about horses, but even an amateur could tell by looking at them that these stallions, mares and geldings were top-notch.
He smiled at the notion that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. If what he’d been told by Roman Slater, the PI he’d hired to find his biological father, was true, then Brooks’s drive to succeed above all else must’ve been in his blood. Because Look Away Ranch had all the makings of hard-earned success, much like his very own Newport Corporation.
He, Graham and Carson had worked their asses off for years in order to create one of the leading real estate and land development companies in the country. He was proud of what they’d accomplished, coming up the real estate ranks in Chicago and becoming genuine competitors of Sutton Winchester’s Elite Industries. Winchester was their biggest rival both professionally and privately. And Brooks had done his very best to take the ruthless older man down, more for personal reasons than professional.
For a time, Brooks had believed that the now ailing Sutton fathered him and his twin brother Graham. The knowledge only fueled his desire to destroy the man he believed abandoned his mother in her time of need, when she was pregnant. It turned out none of that was true. But paternity tests had revealed that his baby brother, Carson, was indeed Sutton Winchester’s biological child. Sutton and his late mother, Cynthia, had history together. She’d been his secretary once, and they’d had a love affair.
He hoped his true father, Beau, would fill in the rest of the blanks. After years of wondering and months now of tracking the man down, Brooks was ready to meet the man who’d fathered him.
He pulled up into the portico-covered drive that circled the stately ranch house and killed the engine. A man was waiting on the steps. Brooks’s first glimpse was of a tall rancher, his hair once blond and now dusted with silver, dressed in crisp jeans and a snap-down Western shirt. He immediately approached, marching down the steps, his gait extremely similar to his twin brother’s and probably Brooks’s as well. Warmth swamped his chest.
He was out of the car quickly, walking toward the man whose blood flowed through his veins. They came face-to-face, and Brooks took in the blue eyes, the firm jaw and the hint of a wicked smile bracing the man’s mouth. “Beau?”
Tears welled in the man’s eyes. His lips quivered and he nodded. “Yes, son. I’m Beau Preston. I’m your father.”
His father’s legs wobbled, and Brooks grabbed his shoulders to steady him. As emotion rocked him, Brooks’s own legs went numb, too. Then his father broke down, sobbing quietly and taking Brooks into his big, sturdy arms as he would a little boy. “Welcome, son. Welcome. I’ve been searching for you for a long time.”
A few seconds later, Beau backed away, wiping at his tears. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy, boy. Come inside. We have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes, I’d like that,” Brooks said.
They walked shoulder to shoulder into the house.
“Forgive me for not showing you around just yet,” Beau said.
“I understand. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
But Brooks noticed things about the rooms he walked through, the sturdy, steady surroundings, dark wood floors polished to a mirror shine, bulky wood beams above and wide-paned windows letting the outside in. The wood tones were brightened by the red blooms of poinsettia plants placed in several of the rooms, and his nostrils filled with the holiday scent of pine.
His father led him into the great room, which contained a giant flat-screen television, a corner wet bar, and tan and black leather couches. He got the feeling this was his father’s comfort zone, the room he relaxed in after a long, grueling day. “Have a seat,” the older man said. “Can I offer you coffee or iced tea? Orange juice?”
Brooks had had morning coffee with Ruby. A slice of regret barreled through him that he’d never see her again. He sat down on a tan sofa. “No thanks. I’m fine.”
“You found the place okay?” His father took a seat facing him, his gaze latching onto Brooks and gleaming as bright as morning sunshine. All of Brooks’s apprehension over this meeting vanished. Beau was as glad they’d found each other as he was.
“Yep, didn’t have any trouble finding Look Away Ranch. It’s pretty amazing, I have to say.”
“What’s amazing is that you’re finally here. And look at you, boy. You’re the spitting image of me when I was your age.”
“There are two of us, you know. But Graham wanted to lay back and let me make the first contact with you. We didn’t want to overwhelm you and, well...we have questions. He thought it’d be easier for you and me to speak privately before he joins us, since I was the one hell-bent on finding you.”
His father rubbed at the back of his neck, a pained look entering his eyes. “I have to explain. I didn’t know about you boys in the beginning. I didn’t know your mama, Mary Jo, was carrying my babies when she ran away from Cool Springs. And once I started receiving anonymous notes and photos, I wasn’t sure any of it was true, but as the photos kept coming, I saw the resemblance. It was unmistakable, and I moved heaven and earth to find Mary Jo. To find you boys.”
“It’s weird to hear you call my mother Mary Jo. As far as we knew, Mom’s name was Cynthia Newport.”
He shrugged a shoulder and got a faraway look in his eyes. “Mary Jo and I were desperately in love. She must’ve been scared out of her mind to run from me the way she did. That son of a bitch father of hers...” He paused to gauge Brooks’s reaction. “Sorry, I forget he’s your grandfather. But he was mean to the bone. Mary Jo was convinced if he found out she was seeing me, he’d kill both of us. I tried like the dickens to calm her down and tell her I’d protect her, but she must’ve panicked when she found out she was pregnant. God, I keep thinking how desperate she must’ve been back then. Alone in the world and carrying twins, no less. She wouldn’t have run off if she wasn’t terribly frightened of the consequences. That’s all I can figure. She must’ve thought her daddy would beat the stuffing out of her, and harm her babies, if he ever found out the truth.
“I didn’t know she’d changed her name and started a new life. I surely didn’t know she was with child. But I want you to know, to be clear, I searched high and low for her in those early days. Trouble was, I was searching for Mary Jo Turner, not this...this Cynthia Newport person.”
“I understand. I don’t fault you for any of this. I’ve, uh, well, I’m just now coming to terms with all of this myself. I must admit, I was a bit obsessed with finding you.”
“I’m glad you never let up, son.”
Brooks gave him a nod. “Mom, she was a survivor. She did whatever it took to keep me and my brothers safe and cared for. She hid so many things from us during our lives. But Graham and I and our younger brother, Carson, who has a different father, don’t blame her for any of it. We had a good life, living on the outskirts of Chicago with our Grandma Gerty. That woman befriended Mom when she was at a low point, and she took all of us in. She let us live with her in a modest home in a nice neighborhood, and she helped get us through school. We were a family in all respects. My brothers and I always looked upon her and loved her as if she was our real grandmother. I have a sneaking suspicion she was the one sending those updates and photos to you.”
“Sounds like a wonderful woman.” Beau sighed as he leaned farther back in his seat. “If she was the one, then I owe her a great debt. I’d long believed that your mother was gone to me forever, but just knowing you boys were out there somewhere gave me hope. I wish like hell Gerty would’ve just told me where to find you, but your mama probably held her to a promise to keep the secret.”
“Grandma Gerty died about ten years ago.”
“That’s about when the updates stopped coming. It makes sense,” his father said, “as much as any of this makes sense.” He laughed with no real amusement.
“Grandma Gerty had a keen sense of duty. She must’ve believed in her heart she was doing the right thing. She only wanted what was best for my mom.”
“I’m sorry Mary Jo isn’t with us anymore. We were so young when we were in love, and...well, I have fond memories of her. Such a tragedy, the way she died.”
“The aneurism took us all by shock. Mom was pretty healthy all of her life, and to lose her that way, after all she’d been through...well, it wasn’t fair.” Brooks took a second to breathe in and out slowly. After composing himself he added, “I miss her like crazy.”
“I bet you do. The Mary Jo I remember was worthy of your love. I have no doubt she was a wonderful mother.”
“Do you know what ever happened to my grandfather?”
“Still kicking. The mean ones don’t die young. He’s in a nursing home for dementia patients and being cared for by the state of Texas. I’m sorry, son. I know he’s your relation, but if you knew how he treated your mama, you wouldn’t give him a second of thought.”
Brooks closed his eyes. This part was hardest to hear. His mother had never mentioned her abuse to him or any of her children. She’d shielded them all from hurt and negativity and made their lives as pleasant and as full of love as she possibly could. She’d come to Chicago hell-bent on changing her circumstances, but those memories of her broken youth must’ve haunted her. To think of her as that young girl who’d been treated so poorly by the one person who should’ve been loving and protecting her burned Brooks like a hot brand. “I suppose I should visit him.”
“You can see him, son. But I’m told he’s lost his mind. Doesn’t recognize anyone anymore.”
Brooks nodded. Another piece of his family lost to him. But perhaps in this case it was for the best that his grandfather wouldn’t know him. “I’ll deal with him in my own way at some point.”
“I’m glad you agreed to stay on at the ranch awhile. You’re welcome at the house. It’s big enough and always open to you. But when we spoke on the phone, you seemed to like the idea of staying at the cabin right on our property and...well, I think it’s a good choice. You can take things at your own pace without getting overwhelmed.” His father grinned and gave his head a prideful tilt. “Course, here I am talking about you getting overwhelmed when you’re the owner of a big corporation and all.”
Brooks grinned. That apple not falling far from the tree again. “And here you are with this very prosperous horse farm in Texas. You have a great reputation for honesty and quality. Look Away Ranch is top-notch.” Aside from having Beau Preston investigated by Slater, Brooks had Googled him and found nothing lacking.
“It’s good to hear you say that. Look Away has been a joy in my life. I lost my wife some years ago, and this place along with my sons helped me get through it. You’ll meet your half brothers soon.”
“I’ll look forward to that. And I’m sorry to hear about you losing your wife.”
“Yeah, it was a tough one. I think you would’ve liked her. I know Mary Jo would’ve approved. My Tanya was a good woman. She filled the hole inside me after losing your mama.”
“I wish I could’ve known her, Beau.”
His eyes snapped up. “Son, I’d appreciate it if you called me Dad.”
Dad? A swell of warmth lodged deep in his heart. He’d never had the privilege of calling any man that. While growing up, he, Carson and Graham had always been the boys without a father. Grandma Gerty had made up for it in many ways, her brightness and light shining over them, but deep down Brooks had wanted better answers from his mother about his father’s absence in their lives. “You’re better off not knowing,” she’d say, cutting off his further questions.
Brooks gave Beau a smile. “All right, Dad. I’m happy to call you that after all these years.”
His father’s eyes lit up. “And I’m happy to hear it, son. Would you like to get settled in? I can drive you to the cabin. It’s barely more than a stone’s throw from here, only a quarter mile into the property.”
“Yeah, that’s sounds good.”
“Fine, and before we do, I’ll give you the grand tour of the house. Tanya did all the decorating and she loved the holidays, so we’ve kept up the tradition of putting out all her favorite things. We start early in December, and it takes us a while to bring the trees in and get the house fully decorated in time for our annual Look Away Ranch Christmas shindig. C’mon, I’ll show you around now.”
“Thanks. I’ve got no doubt I’m going to like your place.”
“I hope so, son.”
* * *
After his father left him at the cabin, a rustic, wood-beamed, fully state-of-the-art three-bedroom dwelling that would sell for a million bucks in the suburbs of Chicago, Brooks walked his luggage into the master suite and began putting away his belongings in a dark oak dresser. Lifting out the shirt Ruby had worn just this morning, Brooks brought the collar to his nose and breathed in. The shirt smelled of her still, a wildly exotic scent that had lured him into his best fantasy to date.
He’d hold on to that memory for a long time, but now he was about to make new ones with his father and his family. Brooks walked the rooms, getting familiar with his new home—for the next few weeks, anyway—and found he was antsy to learn more, to see more.
He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, noting that Beau Preston didn’t do things halfway. The fridge was filled with everything Brooks might possibly need during his stay here. If Beau wanted him to feel welcome, he’d succeeded.
