by Lilly Wilde
I inhale a breath and slowly release it. I then tell myself it’s just Noah. My kid brother. No reason to be nervous. I wonder if I made the right decision leaving CeeCee with Aunt Sophie. Yeah, that was probably best. I want to focus all of my attention on catching up with Noah.
As we near the table, I spot the young man that has to be Noah and his appearance alone stops my breath. He looks so different. His hair is not as dark anymore. And I remember it being straighter but the Noah of today has clearly channeled his inner Zayn Malik, with a curly quiff that falls naturally in the front appearing effortless and rugged. He’s sporting a very light beard and a single hoop earring in one ear. He’s also much taller than I imagined. He’s definitely not that scrawny kid I had to worry about in the past. Noah’s all grown up. And from the looks of it, he hits the gym pretty regularly—not overly buff, but those tight lines of muscle aren’t exactly hiding either. My brother is hot! And most important, he’s happy.
He stands when he sees me and the waitress says someone will be right over to take our drink order. I rush into Noah’s arms and all the emotions, fears and sadness I’d carried in my heart for the last eight years buries me. The effusion of tears finally comes. I’m sobbing in his chest and when I feel his body shaking in unison with mine, I know he’s crying too. I’m sure everyone in our vicinity is catching quite the show, but I couldn’t care less. I finally have what I thought would remain an unanswered prayer. I have my brother.
When we curtail our emotion enough to actually look at each other, we pull back and we both fall into smiles. I cup Noah’s handsome face. His eyes, similar to the brown of mine, have a sparkle I’ve never seen and his once-shy smile now beams of confidence. “You look great, Noah.”
“You, too, sis.”
“I’m a fat ass. So stop lying.”
He chuckles at my self-deprecation and we both move to sit. And that’s when I notice the other person at the table. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see anyone but this guy,” I say, tipping my head toward my brother. You must be a friend of Noah’s.” I toss Noah an accusing look. “I didn’t know you were bringing someone other than your fiancé. Why didn’t you say?”
“I didn’t say, because I didn’t bring anyone else.”
“I don’t think I follow.”
“Ragan, meet Greyson Ford, the man I intend to marry.”
My head whips back to the criminally handsome man seated beside me.
#WhatTheFuck
“DID ANYONE EVER TELL YOU that it’s impolite to stare?” Greyson asks with a charmingly playful grin that brightens the gray of his irises.
“Er…was I really doing that?” I turn toward Noah and mouth, Oh my God. So many things are spinning in my head right now. So, so many things. I’m finally reunited with my brother—he’s literally standing inches away from me. As if that isn’t already an unexpected turn of events, he’s actually engaged. To a man. Yep, Noah’s gay. And his fiancé, well he’s smoking hot. I mean, come on. All of this can’t be happening. Either I’ve stepped into some alternate universe or I’m having some type of dream with a huge subliminal message—one I will never figure out in a million years.
Greyson glances at Noah. “Looks as if she’s gone from staring to stunned silence.”
His voice makes my insides melt—it has that same rich sexual depth of Chris Hemsworth’s. I take a quick survey of his facial features. He has the cutest dimples I’ve ever seen on any adult and his jawline boasts the perfection of one that’s been cosmetically altered. His thick mane of hair is perfectly coifed—as if he literally just hopped out of a stylist’s chair. Yeah, my brother has gone off and snagged himself a supermodel. Had I been in Noah’s shoes, not only would I have switched teams and stepped into Greyson’s lane, I would have jumped the freaking tracks just to get there! Not that Noah did anything like that, but still.
I look up at my brother whose eyes are steadfast on Greyson. And in that instant—in that single moment—I see how deeply Noah feels for this man. He adores him. Anyone in their proximity could see that—could see they make each other insanely happy. And that’s what instantly fills my heart—Noah’s happiness. That’s all that matters.
I turn back to Greyson, embarrassed by my reaction to his modelesque looks. “I’m sorry.”
He winks and flashes me a picture-perfect grin. “I was just kidding. Your reaction is pretty much in line with what Noah and I expected.” Greyson pushes away from the table and pulls me into a hug.
Oh wow. He’s heavily muscled…just like Noah. Not that I’m surprised seeing as how his stylishly fitted shirt molds to the contours of his physique. I literally force myself from gripping his shoulders and holding on.
Cool your loins and stop lusting over your brother’s fiancé. But he’s so flipping hot and it’s been like a zillion lifetimes since I’ve had a man in my arms…or in my bed, so I tell myself that a little lusting is okay. I let go and take a few paces back and damn if his scent doesn’t move with me and double-damn if he doesn’t smell like panty-wetting hotness. Yeah, I know that’s not an actual scent, but with this guy, that pretty much fits the bill.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Greyson says. “Noah never shuts up about his big sister.”
“Jeez. Wish I could say something even close to the same. Nice to meet you, Greyson.”
I look back at Noah and his eyes dart my face with that same nervous energy I had upon entering the restaurant. Clearly he’s anxious about my reaction to not only a fiancé but to his sexuality. Something I never questioned to be anything other than heterosexual until now.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I give him the smile I know he needs to see. “I’m better than okay,” I say, reassuring him. “I’m perfect. Everything’s perfect.”
Noah exhales a sigh and his features visibly relax and then that beautiful smile of his reappears. We go to take our seats and as soon as we’re settled, he asks, “Now that we have all of that out of the way, will you be my best woman?”
My brows rise.
“My wedding,” Noah prompts for a response. “I want you to stand up for me.”
I barely swallow one shock before he’s hit me with another. Noah’s getting married. Noah’s gay. My little brother is actually in love with a man. And not just any man, but a man like Greyson Ford! A man that I’m practically gushing over myself. I didn’t need any more time than the few minutes I’d already had to know that Noah scored big with this guy. Not that my brother hasn’t transitioned into some pretty sweet eye candy himself. Good Lord, talk about a beautiful couple.
My gaze travels from Greyson to Noah, the shock of his sexual orientation still a bit unsettling. I imagine it will be for a while. Not because I’m a homophobe or anything close to it. I’d actually had a secret relationship with a girl in high school. It wasn’t secret because I was uncomfortable. And I didn’t really care who knew, but I only saw her when I managed to slip away from work for an hour or so. Had Cassidy found out I was having any type of enjoyment, I would’ve been dead. So Liberty—that was her name—was always my little secret.
I don’t think in terms of gender, ethnicity or cultural differences when it comes to love—the heart wants what the heart wants. Even still, I never would have guessed this of Noah. But then again why would I have paid attention to any telltale signs back then? Our only focus was getting through the day beating-free. There was little to no time for anything but finding creative ways to please our devil-spawned stepmother.
Nevertheless, I should’ve known this about Noah but I didn’t. Not until today. Suddenly a knot of guilt twists my stomach as I’m slapped with the reality that I suck as a sister.
“Of course I’ll stand up for you,” I say, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m honored that you would even ask.”
“Are you kidding me? Who else would I want at my side?” he asks, passing me a gleaming white smile.
“Hi, ya’ll. My name is Amber and I’ll be you
r server this evening. Can I start you folks off with something to drink?”
I turn away from Noah to see a bubbly waitress awaiting our beverage order. She’s wearing a broad smile and her aura indicates she’s genuinely excited to serve us. So unlike me when it comes to my customers at Jim Bob’s.
Since we’re celebrating a reunion and an engagement, I order a bottle of champagne. But before Amber heads off, Greyson asks that she bring a glass of sparkling cider for him instead. When she leaves, he explains he’s an alcoholic and has been sober for the last eight years. As a matter of fact, that’s how he met my brother.
Two years ago, Noah was on his way to an Adult Survivors of Child Abuse Support Group and Greyson was headed to his Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Both groups met in the same building and one rainy afternoon, Noah and Greyson were hurrying inside and literally ran into each other. After a bout of apologies, insta-attraction and shy smiles, Greyson invited Noah for coffee after their respective meetings. And the rest is, as they say, history.
Over dinner, I watch their exchanges. The way Greyson rests his hand over Noah’s when they laugh. The adorable way Noah’s gaze crawls over Greyson’s face as he speaks. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a couple more in love. Well, except Jimmy and Loretta.
Greyson tells me about his conservative upbringing and how he grew up surrounded by an amazingly supportive family who’ve embraced Noah with an abundance of love and enthusiasm he hadn’t expected. Although Noah wasn’t his first boyfriend, he was the first one he’d introduced them to. So he wasn’t sure how they’d react. But it was as impossible for his family as it had been for him to not love everything about Noah.
Greyson turns away from me and looks at my brother. “Loving Noah was never a choice…he had me from the first moment he looked into my eyes.”
Holy shit. Do men actually say things like that? I think I need a Greyson.
He pulls his gaze from Noah’s and smiles at my reaction. “See what your brother does to me? One glance and I forget everything. How can I not want to spend eternity with this man?”
There he goes again. Yes, I definitely need a Greyson of my own.
“Stop it, Grey,” Noah says with a grin. “You’ve got her all tongue-tied.”
Noah calls him Grey. So effing hot. “Hush, Noah. I’m so not tongue-tied.”
He looks at his fiancé and says, “Yes, she is. Look at those rosy cheeks.”
“Noah, stop it,” I whisper, throwing him the evil eye.
“Don’t get all Cruella de Vil on me. I’m only teasing.”
Grey laughs at our squabble and then goes on to share more about his alcoholism, telling me how the drinking started in high school when he was struggling with his sexuality. Coping with the stress of his family’s beliefs and knowing something inside of him was in direct opposition to those teachings became a battle within a battle—conflicts he chose to fight with alcohol, which quickly shifted into a habit he couldn’t break.
A near-fatal car accident with an inebriated Greyson behind the wheel forced his reality to the surface. “There’s something about escaping the clutches of death that pushes one to accept his own truth. I finally admitted—to myself, at least—that I wasn’t the man my parents wanted me to be. I knew I’d never be that man. And when I was fully recovered and back home, I opened up to my family about the drinking and my sexuality.”
My eyes trail softly over his face. “I’m sure that must have been difficult.”
“Very. I’d prepared myself for the disapproval and judgment but it never came. I never understood why because that type of admonishment fell in line with who I’d always known them to be. My guess is that nearly losing me in the accident made them realize what’s most important. They embraced me for who I am—bestowing me with unwavering love and support and they made sure I got into rehab.”
Noah traces a supportive hand over Greyson’s as he continues his story. And then over lobster ravioli, I find myself in tears again.
“Are you okay?” Greyson asks.
“Yeah,” I say, waving off his concern. “Ignore me. I’m just so full right now.”
“Too much pasta?” Noah asks.
We all laugh.
“Very funny, Noah, but no. It’s the two of you. You guys are what happiness looks like. And Noah, after all you’ve been through, it’s amazing that you’ve found someone who can give you the unconditional love you deserve.”
And that was his cue. Noah draws a breath and launches the story of his break from the Prescott household.
NOAH TELLS ME ABOUT THE family who took him in—the Sinclairs—and how it all started with Claudia Sinclair, a substitute teacher at Blue Ridge Middle School.
“She wasn’t like the other teachers. She was attentive and kind. And it wasn’t just every now and then either, it was consistent. And it was genuine. That was something I’d never experienced with any adult. I grew to trust her and I ultimately opened up about the house of Prescott.”
Noah’s face takes on a different expression. One that I know stems from the pain of the memories he fights to keep buried.
“I told her about the secret we’d been forced to keep. And I told her about you and how you’d been pushed out of our home.” His eyes water and he looks up at the ceiling, drawing a deep breath. When his gaze returns to mine, he says, “I told her that with you gone, I had no one. That I was afraid for my life and that knot of fear in my gut clenched tighter every day, making it that much harder to breathe. I knew I needed to leave that house once and for all. Even if that meant living on the streets because that had to be safer than the lion’s den I stepped into every day.”
“Why didn’t you come to me, Noah? You could have stayed with me.”
Noah leans in, his gaze pressed to mine. “Ragan, there was no way you could have taken care of both of us. And as soon as Cassidy or Dad caught wind of that living arrangement, they would have destroyed it, out of spite if for no other reason.”
I grab his hand, pulling it closer to me. “We would’ve figured something out. At least we would have been together.”
“I made the best choice for both of us.”
Maybe he’s right. I don’t know. “It was just so hard, Noah. The not knowing.”
“I know,” he says, his eyes full of understanding.
“What happened after you told Claudia?”
“She wanted to confront Dad and Cassidy—an idea which totally freaked me out. I told her what that would mean for me, so she backed down and made me promise I’d always let her know how I was doing. That I’d tell her before I did anything like running off. She checked on me every morning after homeroom, often surprising me with homemade treats or a new book to read. And she even helped with my studies. But all of that came to an end when she announced she was leaving Blue Ridge.”
The Sinclairs were a military family and since Claudia’s husband Alex was returning from his deployment, she’d be moving to Ft. Lewis. She’d waited until the day before she was scheduled to leave to break the news to Noah. She knew it would tear his heart out because she was all he had.
Unbeknownst to Claudia, the previous evening Cassidy flipped out on Noah because of an accident involving his stepsiblings. They’d been outside and Noah was watching them while Cassidy took her routine afternoon nap. As usual, the youngest wouldn’t listen to Noah and tried to stand in the wagon as his sister pulled him along the sidewalk. She was going too fast, her brother lost his balance, fell and scraped his knee. When they rushed inside to get a bandage, the noise of their scrambling in the bathroom awakened Cassidy. When she asked about the incident, Noah explained what happened. She told him he should’ve known it was unsafe. He told her that he wasn’t the one pulling the wagon, his stepsister was but she slapped him and called him a liar.
Noah grows quiet and I’m almost afraid to ask, but I do. “What happened next?”
“She said I did it on purpose and that I was turning out just like you. Then she forced me to
my room. Told me to undress and assume the position.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I was lying there naked for about ten minutes as she beat the living shit out of me for something I didn’t do. I don’t know why but Dad burst into the room and told her to stop—that she’d done enough.”
I remember those beatings. I remember no one ever coming to stop her either. I swipe the back of my hand over wet cheeks.
“The next day Claudia saw the bandages. The bruises. She’d overheard me telling a classmate that I’d fallen trying to mimic a skateboard stunt I’d seen on TV. But she knew that was a lie. So when she asked, I told her the truth,” Noah says, shaking his head. “I remember sitting beside her desk, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. And as I sat there, reciting every detail, every rip into my skin, every cry for help…tears flowed down my cheeks. When I got to the part about Dad making Cassidy stop, I looked up and saw that Mom…I mean Claudia…was crying right along with me. She said it wouldn’t happen again and that she would protect me. But I told her no one could protect me from Cassidy, which is why I’d made plans to leave that house for good. And that’s when she said I should move to Washington with her. And without even thinking twice about it, I agreed.”
Noah went on to tell me that Claudia made him aware of the implications of their decision—that no one could ever know, that he would have to forget every memory and every person in Blue Ridge. Including me. And that was the part of the plan he struggled with. He refused to leave without letting me know he was okay. So the day they left Georgia, Noah sent a message to me, telling me that he was running away. That he’d met a nice family and that he was okay. He disappeared to protect himself and the Sinclairs because although it was Noah’s choice to leave, what Claudia had done was essentially kidnapping.
Alex and Claudia Sinclair knew right off that they wanted to adopt Noah, but they also understood the ramifications if they petitioned to do so—they’d be charged with a crime, Alex’s army career would be over, Noah would get pulled into the system, or he’d end up back at Dad’s. So they waited until Noah was of legal age and adopted him, making him an official Sinclair, the same as his younger sister and three brothers.
