Stars twinkled like diamonds in the midnight sky. There wasn’t a breath of wind. In Oregon, even from my place in town, there was the constant whisper of the ocean’s waves. Not here. There was nothing but the occasional screech from a hawk or the scrape of a lizard’s claws on a nearby rock.
From my seat, I had the perfect view of Brody’s home. It stood dark and endless. The only light came from the second-floor balcony. Maybe if I was lucky, he’d get Clara’s cold and be bedridden for a couple weeks.
A girl could hope.
I’d unlocked the Kindle’s screen, ready to dive into the tale of a pirate and the fair maiden he’d kidnapped at sea, when something caught my eye.
Brody emerged onto his lit balcony, wearing only a towel wrapped around his narrow hips.
Even from this distance, the definition of his hard stomach was impossible to miss. As was the plane of his wide, bare chest dusted with dark hair. Brody’s arms were ropes upon ropes of muscle.
My breath hitched. My pulse quickened. Damn you, Brody Carmichael. Why couldn’t he be ugly? It would be so much easier to hate him if he didn’t elicit such a strong physical reaction. Undoubtedly, when I dove into my novel, Brody’s face would be the pirate’s.
His sixth sense must have prickled. One moment, he was leaning, arms braced, on the balcony railing. The next, he stood straight, his hands fisted at his sides, and faced my way.
I gave him a little finger wave and a glare.
I got nothing in return. As quickly as he’d come outside, he vanished inside his concrete castle.
The bastard was probably annoyed that I was here to steal Clara’s attention. Whatever. These were my two weeks with her. Mine. I was here now, and the loneliness had begun to fade. The well wasn’t bone dry.
Four months apart had been too long. Maybe it was time to push harder for a change. Maybe it was time to open my mind to a change of my own.
Clara needed help with August. I simply needed Clara and August. There was a weight on her shoulders that hadn’t been there in June, and it had nothing to do with her cold. She was here, working alone. Living alone. Parenting alone.
Enduring alone.
Our lives had been harder than they should have been, harder than my parents had planned. We’d walked a rocky, rough road.
Maybe it was time to switch directions. To forge a beaten path.
And find out if there was a rainbow waiting at the end of my forsaken trail.
Chapter Two
Brody
“How long will she be here?” I asked Clara.
I stood at the floor-to-ceiling-window wall in my office that overlooked the property beyond the house. The office was adjacent to my bedroom, and from here I could see Clara’s backyard and deck. I’d designed it that way, wanting to give her privacy but be close enough in case of an emergency. I’d wanted a line of sight.
I was regretting that decision. Just like I had last night when I’d come out for a quiet minute alone, only to realize I hadn’t been the only one seeking a moment of solitude.
She had taken over Clara’s deck. Last night. Today. She’d brought the old Cadillac. Wasn’t it time for her to scurry on back to Oregon?
Outside, Aria was stretched on a chaise with August tucked into her side. The two of them were reading a book, the boy eating up her every word. Her toned legs stretched long to her bare feet. She’d sat in exactly the same chair this morning, painting her toenails.
“Two weeks.” Clara sniffled, her voice thick and raspy. “I’m not sure why you’re asking me a question when you already know the answer.”
I frowned. “Because I was hoping the answer would change.”
“Don’t.” She sighed. “Please. I don’t have the energy to play referee.”
“What a fucking disaster,” I muttered.
Not only had my grandmother’s phone call completely disrupted my plans for the next two weeks, forcing me to cancel the trip I’d planned for a year, but now I’d have to be around Aria Saint-James for the next two weeks.
“She’s my sister, Brody,” Clara said. “She’s welcome here. And if you make her feel unwelcome, then I’m moving.”
“You can’t move.” I spun away from the glass. That was the first time she’d ever made that threat, and I didn’t like how serious it sounded. “That’s your house.”
“No, it’s your house. I just live there.”
“Semantics. You’re not moving.”
Welcome was a safe community with good schools. Selling her on the move here hadn’t been difficult for those reasons. Plus a new home with state-of-the-art security. She belonged here. If that meant I had to play nice with the sister, so be it.
“I’ll be on my best behavior.” I feigned a bow.
“Good. This is an important trip for Aria. I haven’t seen her in months, and she’s going through something.”
“What something?” I asked, forgetting that I didn’t care.
“I don’t know.” Clara dug through the pocket on her hoodie, pulling out a wad of tissues. “She hasn’t told me anything, but I can feel it.”
Clara and Aria were fraternal twins, similar physically but each with their own unique traits, yet they had a bond like nothing I’d seen before. Their link was one I’d never understand but it existed like the walls, ceilings and floors of this house.
There were days when work was so stressful that Clara reached her wits’ end—Aria would always call. There were days when Clara would excuse herself in a meeting—she just had to text Aria. It was like they had a direct tap into each other’s moods and knew when the roller coaster had hit a low.
“Can we talk through the plan for tonight? The pilot will be ready to take off any time after five. What time do I need to be ready?” Clara put the tissues to her nose and blew hard. A snot bubble escaped the edge.
“Hell. You can’t go tonight.”
“Yes, I can.”
“You’re not going. You look awful.”
She pulled the tissues away from her face. “Gee. Thanks. I hope you don’t say that to your real dates.”
“You know what I mean.” I walked to the bathroom off the office and rifled through the cabinet until I found a fresh box of tissues. Then I brought them out to Clara where she’d collapsed on the couch, curled into the fetal position. “Here.”
“Thanks.” She clutched the box to her chest, her eyelids so droopy she couldn’t keep them open.
“Go home. Get some sleep. I’ll go solo tonight.”
“No way.” Clara pushed herself up with a grunt. “I’ll be fine. I just need a nap and a shower. Then I’ll be good to go.”
I sat beside her. “Sorry, but you’re not coming. Boss’s orders.”
“Ha.” She laughed, which turned into a fit of coughs. “Since when do I take my boss’s orders?”
“Fair point.”
Clara relaxed, her body sagging toward mine. I put an arm around her shoulders and held her before she could collapse onto the floor.
It was rare for us to hug. Was this a hug? Clara hugged everyone she knew but I wasn’t really the hugging type. But I considered her a friend. A best friend. Or . . . the closest thing I had to a best friend. Did it count when you paid them?