Page 6 of The Reborn


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“Where’s your mom?” she asked without glancing over.

“She ran to the grocery store to pick up some more drinks, and I’m pretty sure she’s getting a banana cream pie for Cam.”

She shot me a look. “You sure that’s not for me?”

“Maybe.”

She laughed and turned back to the view. “That’s sweet of her.”

“Wanna sit outside?” I tilted my head toward the picnic table not far from where the men stood talking.

Her gaze tracked to Cam, but I grabbed her hand.

“We’re gonna go out,” I said. “Bring the girls when you’re ready.” I tugged her behind me and led her out the back door toward the table before my brother could respond.

She sat heavily next to me, her hands on her belly.

At the window behind us, Camden stood with Elizabeth on his hip and Isla in her wheelchair next to him, all of them waving and making faces at us.

“He’s—” I started.

“The best,” Vanessa said, her eyes all gooey.

“I was going to say a nut, but I guess we can go with that since you’re still technically in the honeymoon phase.”

She smacked my arm. “He is, though, Olivia. The best. Truly. I’m lucky to have found him. He’s so good to us.”

I sobered, the smile dropping from my face. All kidding aside, I knew how awesome my brother was. Really, how awesome all of my brothers were, even though they were all incredibly different. Elias was quiet and reserved, focusing all his energy on serving his country in the Air Force. Titus was the polar opposite, boisterous and fun and making a name for himself acting in Hollywood. Then there was explosive and loyal Camden. The brother I was by far the closest to. Maybe because he was the closest in proximity or perhaps because he just seemed to get me and love me unconditionally and had my entire life—even when I was the bratty little sister.

I reached out and cupped my hand over Vanessa’s—the woman who had captured my brother’s heart. “We both know he was the lucky one.”

We shared a moment as I silently thanked her, as I had a thousand times before, for saving my brother. He’d been spiraling out of control, physically and emotionally, when she’d quite literally found him and turned his entire life around. I’m not sure I’d have him anymore if it wasn’t for Vanessa.

She let the moment go and sat back. “How are things at the studio?”

“Good. Busy, but good.”

She nodded and let her eyes drift closed to enjoy the breeze as my mind began to wander back to a call from Sofia that morning. It was so early, it was still dark, but the distress in her voice had me sitting straight up and my heart racing immediately.

“It’s my brother,” she’d said. Her voice was nearly choked off with tears and I got misty-eyed, thinking of my own brothers, as she told me he was missing.

She couldn’t tell me any more than that, not knowing more.

I’d told her we would cover her at the studio so she could go be with her family, but she’d thrown me for a loop when she flat-out refused. Said it was impossible, they were too far away, and mumbled something about things being tense between them.

I’d felt hopeless, not knowing how to console her as she sobbed. Her crying filled my ears even now.

I’d gotten Jamie to fill in for her at the studio for the day, but she wouldn’t hear of bailing on me for babysitting that night, which I could not understand. I told her we’d talk again but our call was cut off. If she did show up, I’d offer again to stay home and give her a night to herself. Girls’ night could wait, and I knew Vanessa and my cousins would understand.

I took a cue from Vanessa now and let my lungs fill with a deep breath as I tried to relax. My uncle Jack glanced over from where he stood with my father by the grill. His slow gaze caught on me, held as if he was startled, then softened with just a hint of melancholy before he offered me a gentle smile.

I was used to it.

My hair was a little bit lighter and my eyes darker, but everything else, from my height and build to the shape of my face, was an eerie resemblance to his lost daughter, Claire. I loved my uncle, and I hated that I couldn’t outrun my genetics that were like poking a never-ending bruise just to look at me.

I lifted my hand in a wave, and he waved back.

“Chicken’s almost done,” Dad said, cutting into the moment.

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