And the only one in my arms forever after.
30
WHITE-KNUCKLE
KEATON
My damp hand squeezed the wheel of my truck until my knuckles strained.
Once my brothers had received corporal punishment, I went upstairs to shower and change, working over what I was about to do. Part of me—a large part—was scared to death to do it. Everything would change, everything would end, and in ways I couldn’t begin to imagine. Our business, the welfare of my family and our employees, it was all up in the air, suspended and waiting for the gravity of the situation to bring it to the ground. On realizing I did have options, thanks to the brotherly love I’d received that afternoon, I began coming up with a solution. Maybe we wouldn’t have to close. Maybe there was a way to scale back. Maybe if I sacrificed the broken equipment, sold it off to pay for repairs, maybe there was a way to keep going. Maybe all wasn’t lost.
And if it was … well, with my brothers behind me, we might be able to start over with something new.
Something new. My stomach lurched with possibility, but not about the business.
Daisy.
I could have Daisy back.
This first. Then you’re gonna find her, and this time, you won’t let go.
With a deep breath, I opened my door and climbed out in front of Mitchell’s house.
My heart hammered as I climbed the steps, the sound of my pulse deafening as I waited for him to open the door.
When he did, he stood surprised on the other side of the threshold.
“Keaton? I’ve been waitin’ to see you,” he said with a pleased smile on his face. “Come on in.”
“I’d rather not, if you don’t mind.”
As it dawned on him, his smile fell.
“Sir, I came to tell you that I won’t be needing your money.”
He stilled, still with a warning smile on his face. “You find a buried treasure, son? Because by my estimate, you won’t survive without it.”
“And if we don’t, that’ll have to be what it is. We’ll sort through that on our own. Five years ago, I tried to give Mandy’s trust back to you, and I wish you’d taken it then. I never wanted a penny of it. I never should have touched it, because then it was a matter of dependence on you. I even let you convince me that your money was the only option. Lucky for me, my brothers disagreed.”
He drew a controlled breath, his eyes narrowed. “This will be the end of your business, Meyer. What would your daddy say?”
“He’d say to hell with anybody who tried to stop me from doing what I thought was right.”
“One word from me, and nobody in this town will hire you ever again. You’re willing to lose everything, and for what? A homeless shelter and some stupid girl?” he shot, his grip on himself loosening.
“For my integrity. And if you call the woman I love stupid again, you’ll regret it fiercely.”
He said nothing. His nostrils flared.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”
“I’ll ruin you if the money doesn’t.”
“I’d welcome you to go ahead and try,” I said evenly. “You have a nice day, now.”
Trembling, I turned to walk down the porch steps. The door slammed shut so hard behind me, I heard the windows rattle.
As I got into my truck and left that godforsaken property, I let myself revel in the freedom I’d just gained and the sick excitement at not knowing what we’d do next. One thought soared above the rest, heading straight for the sun, blinding me.
And I was on my way to find her.
I was a twisting knot of hope and fear as I drove to her house, imagining what might happen in a frantic loop, fueled by the adrenaline from blowing up the vast majority of my life. When I pulled up to the house, I threw the truck in park and climbed out, almost forgetting to cut the engine in my daze—my only objective was to get to her.
I took the porch steps two at a time and rang the second life-altering doorbell of my day.
Thirty seconds passed, but I didn’t hear even the slightest movement from the other side of the door. My hope waning, I rang the bell again and cupped my hand to look in the curtained window.
A full minute later, my heart sank into my shoes, weighing them down as I trudged down the stairs and got back into the truck.
I picked up my phone and texted her, Can we talk? For a minute, I just stared at the screen, waiting to see her type back. When she didn’t, I put the damnable thing down and backed up, swearing as I pulled away.
She’ll get back to you. You’ll see her. You can tell her everything, just be patient.
I could have repeated it all day and it still wouldn’t have helped.
My mind chewed on my thoughts until they were pulp, but I had no better grip on myself as I turned back toward home. I had nowhere else to go.
I never expected to find her truck in my driveway. My heart climbed from my shoes into my throat.
She sat on the steps of my front porch in that cornflower blue dress, her hair down and her face worried. When she saw me, she shot to her feet. When I saw her, I slammed the brakes and was out of my truck in a heartbeat, striding toward her until the distance between us closed.
“Keaton, I—”
I kissed her, her face resting in my hands, her lips soft and pliant and familiar. The gape of longing in my chest filled with our mingled breath, the sweep of tongues, her body against mine, our hearts thumping at a matched pace. I kissed her until longing melted into languid appreciation, releasing her so I could peer into her crystalline eyes.
“I told him no,” I whispered. “I told him—”
“To fuck off?” Daisy said on a laugh, that sweet, sweet sound I’d missed so much. “Sophie told me.”
“Of course she did.” I was smiling. I forgot I knew how.
“How’d he take it?”
“Not well.”
“You didn’t hit him or anything, did you? We don’t need you locked up for assaulting the mayor.”
“Woulda been worth it. But then I wouldn’t have been able to come find you and tell you and …” My lips slid into a frown. “Wait, what are you doing here?”
“Well, a little birdie told me what happened, and I wanted to be here when you got back from … well, telling Mitchell to fuck off.”
I glared at the house. “Which of my brothers told you?”
“None. Sophie texted me.”
Laughter barked out of me, my joy so deep that the corners of my eyes stung. “Goddamn that child.”
“I’m sorry, Keaton,” she said, her eyes cast down. “If it wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened.”
“It would have eventually—I’ve been skimming off that money for too long. It was only a matter of time until Mitchell flexed. I didn’t … I didn’t want them to know we were in trouble. But if they’d known? Well, then this wouldn’t have happened. None of this is your fault.”
“Doesn’t feel that way.”
“It is. I thought all this time that the only way to take care of everyone was to suffer. To endure. The less I had, the more I could give them. I didn’t … maybe I didn’t trust them to be able to handle it like they did. Too often I think about them as the punk-ass kids we were when Mom died. But they’re not. I should have trusted them. And I never should have touched Mitchell’s money.”