She rests her head on top of my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back. For a moment, it felt like darkness surrounded you. I feared that you wouldn’t come back.”
“Why wouldn’t I when my light was right next to me?” I kiss the top of her head.
I swallow, staring at our linked hands and wonder how I’m going to gather the courage to show her that we belong together. Damon’s words keep repeating inside my head like a broken record. “She reminds me of your mom,” he said, smiling at her. “Full of life, happy. She made everyone feel welcome. It’s like you can’t believe there can be people that happy when the world is so fucking dark.”
I smiled, patting his shoulder. “She’s my light, Damon.”
Twenty-Five
Harrison
“Have you ever gone to the memorial?”
“Once.” Scott pours me another shot of tequila.
“How come?”
He fidgets with his bottom lip while looking at the horizon. “Hazel.”
Great, he is in a few words, don’t bother me kind of mood today.
“That’s a big word.” I stare at the amber liquid in his glass, then move my gaze to the ocean where Hazel and Luna are paddle boarding. “Why did she take you?”
“It happened recently, after her mother died.” He smiles, his gaze remains on Hazel. “She decided that our parents needed flowers and some attention. It was a strange experience.” Scott shrugs.
That’s all he says. The tin man went, saw the place, and didn’t shed a tear. Can he share some wisdom on how to feel a little less? I wait for more, but Scott is closed off to the world today. His mind is lost, and his eyes only focus on one person.
“I never saw you cry when our parents died. Have you ever?”
“Not everyone reacts as expected, Harrison,” he says, taking a glass filled with bourbon. He holds it to his lips, then stops and glares at me. “Spill. What’s going on? Because I’m about to get shitfaced and won’t be able to have a coherent conversation with you.”
He drinks like a man quenching his thirst after a marathon. With each gulp, his Adam’s apple bobs violently. Bourbon should be enjoyed. Sipped from a small glass. As his big brother, I should tell him. But I guess the point of this exercise is to induce himself into a temporary coma.
“Earlier today, I went to the memorial,” I say, pressing my lips together.
“How bad was it?” He pours himself another glass of bourbon.
“Fuck, I wanted to run away.” I tell him what happened from the moment we arrived until we left. He doesn’t say a word. His eyes remain on the horizon.
“They aren’t there,” Scott blurts. “Mom’s at home, on her terrace, making sure her plants survive my careless watering. Dad’s in his office, reading a thriller or solving crosswords.”
He’s dead serious.
“Remember the time when you dressed up like G. I. Joe, and I was Batman?” Scott starts laughing. “I taught you how Batman would beat the shit out of your super soldier.”
“We didn’t have candy that year.” I shake my head. Mom put us in time out without cookies for an entire month. “Sorry about your arm.”
“I still won, and got to wear a cool cast for six weeks,” he brags. The asshole had me pinned on the floor. Though I broke his left arm. But it seems like he believes that he won the biggest prize. “All the fourth-grade girls wanted to sit with me at lunch and help me with my food.”
“You were in third grade.”
He smirks. “Like I said, I won.”
We laugh, I drink a shot of tequila. We tell more Halloween stories and then jump into Christmas parties.
“I hated them,” we say in unison.
“Dressing in suits, only being allowed to eat two cookies and drink one can of soda,” Scott complains, then grins. “Remember when we stole the bottle of whiskey?”
“My ass still hurts.” Dad never believed in violence, but when he caught us drinking, he spanked the shit out of us.
“Do you have any idea what can happen to you?” Scott imitates his voice. “This isn’t for children . . . I gave you one job. Take care of Fitzy and instead, you stole the liquor and ran away.”
“Fitzy was with us,” I defend myself. “How old were we?”
“Poor Fitz, I can’t believe he survived us.” Scott shakes his head.
“You were thirteen, I was ten, and Fitz only seven. Hunt stayed at home.”
I’m about to say something more, but my curiosity is bigger. “What happened when you were at the memorial?”
“That place is beautiful but haunted,” he says. His eyes close, his head leans on the back of the lounge chair. “No, not as though there’re ghosts, but it’s haunted by the memories of what one witnessed or who you lost. It’s impossible not to react to it. Innocent people died leaving their loved ones behind and . . . no matter how many times I say good night to the fucking moon, I’ll never see them again.”
Scott covers his mouth and closes his eyes. He shakes his head while breathing through the pain, not a tear slips through his eyes.
Is he ever going to cry?
“I was sobbing like a baby when we were there.”
He bobs his head. “Hazel told me,” he pauses, pressing his lips together. “The day I finally broke down and let myself feel was bad, yet, the best one of my fucking life.”
“Where were you?”
He smiles, opening his eyes. Sitting straight and finishing his drink. “The memorial.”
“What happened afterward?”
“Do you think this is the first time Hazel has flown an Everhart out of New York because he’s broken?”
“What’s going on between you two?”
He pours more liquor into his glass. “I don’t know. And you have to stop asking us.”
“You might lose her if you do something stupid.”
“What’s there to win? She belongs to him.” His words are acid, bitter and my heart hurts for him.
Hazel doesn’t belong to anyone. She only wants love and someone who will love her even when she’s a fucking mess. A man who sees beyond that fucking act she puts on every day. My brother sees it, he knows it. He fucking loves what’s underneath the dome she built after her ex fucked her royally.
If his mind weren’t floating in a pool of hard liquor, I’d beg him to get his head out of his ass. But he’s not in a good place. And fuck, I’m right beside him. We should stop drinking. I want to stop the derailed train from crashing. But the waiter delivers the frozen margarita pitcher that Hazel ordered before going paddle boarding. And who the fuck can say no to a margarita? I can’t.
Drinking the cold cocktail feels like the greatest luxury on earth. The numbness creeps into my brain. My fingers slide on the condensation before I regain my grip. I hate to agree that everything feels better from here.
Hazel said it when I arrived, “You’re not avoiding reality, only taking a detour to build your strength. You shut down those memories and feelings, and in one day you let everything loose. It’s not healthy.”
This wouldn’t be my first choice after what happened, an exclusive resort with fruity drinks and the hottest woman in the world wearing a tiny bikini while enjoying the evening with her new best friend. But I can see the appeal to it. From here, I can laugh and enjoy those memories better than I could when I was so close to where they died. It’s not being shallow, it’s being mindful of my heart.
“Do you think we should buy a house here?”
“Why?”
“We can bring the next generation on vacations. Hazel loves the ocean. You’d have a place to stay when she has that urgency to be bathing under the sun right next to it.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You’re already planning where to vacation. Are you buying Luna a house like Hunter did with Willow?”
“Nah, I’ll wait for her to choose where to live. We have the penthouse in Seattle, but . . . I sound like fucking Hunter.”
When our little brother fell
in love with Willow, he bought her a brownstone in Brooklyn for her birthday. We thought he had lost his marbles. A glance at Luna is all I need to know that once you fall hard for the right girl, you just do whatever it takes to convince them that you love them.
“What should I do with Luna?”
“Are you seriously asking me what to do?” Scott laughs, slurring his words. “Almost ten years ago, I fell in love with a fucking eighteen-year-old girl. Years later I’m still collecting the stupid crumbs she throws on the floor and feeding them to my heart. I have no fucking idea what you should do. Ask her. Hazel knows all about fucking love.”
He picks up his wallet and watch and tries to sit down. “I’ve discovered that she loves those second chance romances.” He laughs. “I think that I have about a year or two to enjoy whatever this is.” He points a shaky finger at me. “Don’t fucking fuck it up for me, big brother, or I swear I’ll kill you.”
Yep, he’s drunk. I watch him stumble through the lounge chairs. I let him walk back by himself. It’ll be good for him to break his stupid head and learn to control his alcohol. Or the impact might reboot his brain.
“Hey.” Hazel comes running back. “Where did he go?”
“Back to his room, he’s wasted.”
She chews her lip. “Okay. I . . .”
“Answer fast. What do I do to convince Luna that this isn’t a pretend relationship? That I’m serious.”
Hazel grins, and fuck those evil eyes brighten. “Honestly, keep doing what you’re doing. And keep your dick in your pants.”
“What?” I look at my crotch, then at Luna’s curvy, perfect body. “Are you sure?”
“I’m afraid so, Harry.” She nods. “Wait until she’s sure that she has feelings for you.”
Her gaze goes toward the hotel building.
“He needs you, go to him.”
“Harrison—”
“I know, this isn’t happening, it’s a figment of my imagination. If I say a word, you’ll have my balls tied to a light post.” I take a breath. “Did I miss something?”
She leans, kisses my cheek, and runs to my brother’s side.
Luna makes her way to me. The corner of her lips is stretching far. “I didn’t know she’s a surfer.”
“And a tomboy, and one of the guys. She hides it pretty well.” I’m impressed that Hazel has been authentic with Luna. When Willow came back to her life, she was so guarded . . . and she’s her sister. “Do you want a margarita?”
“Nope, I want to go dancing.” She smiles. “I’ve never been on vacation. I’m not wasting the next few days lounging and drinking. Come on; we have to go and get ready.”
Dancing? Is she crazy? How am I supposed to behave like a gentleman when she’s going to be flaunting her ass? I take another shot of Patron before following her. This is going to be a long weekend.
Twenty-Six
Harrison
Scott and Hazel left the Keys the next day. They had other plans, and wouldn’t be back in New York until Sunday morning. I didn’t ask what happened, and I swore to both that I’ll never say a word. Unless I felt it was necessary. Luna and I decided to bail on the gala and arrived last night. I wanted to give her the best vacation of her life.
When I asked how come she’s never gone anywhere, I was shut down. Luna trusts me, but only so much. I hate that I’ve shared everything with her and there’re still parts of her that continue to be a puzzle. Today, I went to yoga, and we agreed to have lunch together. Dinner is at my house. We are cooking together and feeding the tribe.
Scott knew when I’d be back and he scheduled a board meeting for Tuesday morning. Thank fuck they decided to hold it at home, or I would’ve said fuck no. I’m not putting on “business casual clothes” after coming back from yoga.
When I enter the home office, I spot a basket with pastries, a bowl of fresh fruit, coffee, and an egg casserole.
“We’re having breakfast too, how fancy,” I declare, taking a seat between Hunter and Scott.
“The prodigal child is back.” Hazel stares at me from her seat. “You were gone for almost a week.”
“You’re mad?” I arch an eyebrow.
“I worked my ass off to get you the perfect dating scenes, and you didn’t go to any of them.” She pushes a yellow envelope. “You owe me. They were my treat if you had used them.”
I look at my brothers and look at her. “Can you explain why she is part of this board meeting?”
“Scotty promised to make me breakfast, I never say no to homemade food,” she jokes, pouring herself a cup of coffee.
“She’s my right hand,” Scott reminds me, ignoring Hazel’s response. “Neither one of you gives a fuck about this company. Hazel at least pretends to care because she likes to boss me around.”
“I love to boss him.” She nods, feeding him a piece of a chocolate croissant. “But that’s not the reason. I handle the Everhart boys’ investments. Having a say in the company is part of my job.”
“We’re not boys,” Hunter defends himself. “But I need your help. Which one of you is going to set the baby’s trust fund?”
Hazel raises her hand. “Me, pick me.”
“You can have that,” Scott concedes, preparing a plate of fruit for her. “Can we start the meeting?”
“After he tells me all about Luna.” She bats her eyelashes at me and fakes a long sigh. “And how much he loves her.”
“I appreciate the family reunion. But if that’s all, I have things to do.” I toss a glare at Hazel. “Don’t you have a company to run?”
“This meeting is a little more pressing than my other job. But first, tell me how your weekend was.”
“We are here to discuss Everhart Enterprises, not how you like to meddle in my love life.” I glare at Hunter who isn’t paying attention. He’s just texting with Willow. “You should’ve stayed home if that’s all you’re going to do.”
Hazel claps. “Ooh, our boy is in love and pissy from the drought he’s going through.” She winks at me.
“Fuck, what’s wrong with you?” Hunter groans. “You need to get laid, at least jerk off in the shower to see if it takes the edge off.”
“Shut up!”
I had a great time in the Keys, but fuck, Luna was wearing tiny bikinis, and I couldn’t touch her. “Do you have any idea how torturous it was?”
I glare at Hazel. “And it was your idea.”
“I suggested it, and it’s working.” She grins.
Then she stares at the ceiling, licking her lips. “If I were into her, I’d be all over her.” She starts laughing. “She is hot, and, dude, have you seen her naked?” She whistles.
“When did you see her naked?”
Hazel grins, thumping her hand on the table. “Never, but you should’ve seen your face. Priceless. Now tell me what happened.”
I exhale, staring at Scott. “What is it, sugar, coffee? She’s wired up and already driving me insane.”
“Sex,” Fitz responds. “She’s getting some. I just don’t know who the poor bastard is.”
“Poor bastard?” Scott frowns.
“Yeah, I have the feeling that this one is like that bunny in the commercials that has a long-life battery included,” Fitz responds, shaking his head.
Scott’s face is stern, but he can’t hide the fucking smirk. Yep, the bastard got a lot of action the past few days while I just watched and salivated.
“Can we focus on the meeting?” Hunter insists. “Willow wants to remind you guys that on Thursday we have a dinner party at our house. And I’ll be gone for the next couple of months, we have some traveling to do before the baby arrives.”
“Dress formal,” Hazel adds.
“Willow asked for Luna’s number.” Hunter’s attention goes back to me. “I’m sure she sent a text to her, but I assume she’ll be joining us regardless, won’t she?”
“Do we always know everybody’s business?”
“Pretty much,” Hazel dares to respond. “That’s what fam
ilies do, at least ours do it. Why?”
“You need to move out, and that will give you some room to breathe.” Hunter’s two cents are spot on what I’ve been thinking for the past few days.
“I’m moving out of the penthouse,” I declare, letting the weight of what I’m saying settle for a few moments. “There’s no date set, but I’m starting to search for a place.”
Hazel hands me a business card. “Our realtors have years of experience in the tristate area. We mostly do commercial. But for you, I’d do residential too. If you want, we can also set an appointment to discuss your prenuptial and future investments.”
Then she glares at me. “You make her sign a prenup, and I swear I’m castrating you before you say I do.”
“Aw, aren’t you adorable. I might give your people a call . . . and no prenuptial will be signed.”
She smiles and goes back to her breakfast. Yep, she’s a little off today.
“The brownstone next to ours is for sale,” Hunter announces, then looks up to me and smirks. “You’re in fucking love, aren’t you?”
All eyes are on me. This meeting wasn’t about Luna, or how I feel for her, but I have the sudden urge to share with them. My brothers and my sister.
“I’m falling,” I pause, “hard.”
“She’s not your type,” Fitz intercedes. “Yet, I can see you with her. She’s the Ying to your Yang.”
“You’re right,” I agree with him. “She’s not the type of woman I’d have chosen to date or consider . . . marrying.”
“Marry?” Hazel’s eyes open wide. She stares at me like she’s heard that Santa Clause does exist. “Miracles do happen.”
“They do, babe.” Fitz pats her hand. “You just need to get me a man, and find a drone for Scotty.”
Hazel presses her lips together, faking a smile while nodding. “Yeah, I’ll find them. An excellent guy for you, and . . .” she clears her throat “a woman for Scott.” Her tone is flat, and I hope she knows what the hell she’s doing.
Luna and I have to figure out what’s going on between us. More like I have to convince her that we are possible. Maybe she’s not what I had in mind for my life partner. The woman is noisy, and fuck, I like that about her. I like when she turns on her music, and she’s singing off tune to some Latin song that I have no idea what it means but sounds hot because she’s moving those hips. Or she decides to play an old ballad by Christopher Cross, and she grabs whatever is at her disposal, pretending it’s a microphone.
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