Page 24 of Studfinder

“For last night?” Her brows lift as her eyes widen. Her voice rises with a squeak.

“For right now. It’s morning. I’m foggy and I—”

“We ready to get started yet? I’ve got things to be done today,” Sully interrupts us, poking his head around the opening of the front door. Rita takes another moment to look me right in the eye before twisting her neck and then turning her entire body, giving me her back.

“Yeah. I’m going to step outside and call Jake’s parole officer. Then I need to get to the office.”

She isn’t dressed for her office. She looks like she was ready to spend the day working around here, but she’s already walking toward the door, not giving me a second glance.

Everything in me wants to reach for her, tugging her back to me, and explain. Last night meant a lot to me. Being like that with her, entering her, it felt honest and real. For the first time in years, I didn’t have to think. It was only thoughts of her.

But this is the morning after, and I should know better. I’m always in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Rita confirms what I’ve already thought of myself. I’m not the right man for her.

The rest of the day was shit, and it only got worse when I finally arrived home.

“Where the hell have you been?” Nolan asks, both concern and a chuckle fill his voice, hoping I’ve caused mischief which I’m not allowed to do.

“It’s a long story.”

“I hope there’s a woman involved.”

“Nolan, not now.” I sigh, heading to the staircase. I need a shower and a beer. My room is on the second floor, having traded places with Nolan. When our mother died, I took her room on the first floor, and Nolan gave Rory mine, so they shared the upper space. When Nolan was injured, he had to move to the lower level, and my things were put into his old room, stacked in a corner, awaiting my return.

“Rory’s coming home tonight for dinner.”

I freeze partway up the staircase. I haven’t seen my nephew in years. Seven to be exact. Everything happened so fast. Nolan’s injury. My arrest. Rory was simply left alone at seventeen. Nolan and I only had communication via telephone for the longest time, and when he finally did come to see me, he came alone. He didn’t want Rory seeing me in that place.

Good people make bad decisions all the time.

I shake my head at the notion of seeing Rory after all this time. Turning around on the stairs, I gaze down at my brother in his chair. He loves his son. He’d do anything for him, and so would I.

And I did.

“I can’t wait to see him,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady as my brother smiles with fatherly pride. Rory might have grown up fast, but he also kept his shit together. He eventually went to Burlington U on scholarship and currently attends Vermont Law, graduating this summer. It’s almost ironic Rory wants to be a lawyer, putting away the bad guys, fighting for the good ones. I don’t want to be bitter, but between Rita’s dismissal, the issue with my probation officer, and now Rory’s visit, I’m worked up.

“I want to hear about this woman,” Nolan says, pointing a finger up at me. “I need all the details.”

“After I shower,” I say, suddenly wanting to collapse in bed and skip dinner.

A half hour later, I’m on my third beer when Rory arrives.

“Uncle Jake.” I stand on shaky legs and hold out a hand to greet Rory. He’s a man in every way and the spitting image of his father. Same dark brown hair. Same dark eyes. Only he’s skittish with good reason. He knows I know. Over seven years ago, my nephew and his friends might have caused a fire that spiraled out of control, and I took the fall for it.

It’s difficult to look Rory in the eye, and he’s suffering the same. Still, we put on a good show for Nolan. Everything for Nolan, especially now. My brother has become quite the cook in our kitchen at a wheelchair-accessible height, despite the peanut butter and jam sandwiches. He’d been a volunteer fireman like me, and his favorite thing was making dinner for the men and women in service. Typical Nolan, he loved to gather people and make them laugh, stirring in a little innocent trouble.

“How is school?” I ask as Rory takes a seat in the living room.

Rory rubs his hands against his thighs. “Yeah, good. Things are good.” Awkwardly, we pause in a position of sit and stare without actually staring at one another. With a tight smile, Nolan glances between Rory and me. My brother’s brows pinch as his eyes flit between us.

“So. Dinner?” I turn to Nolan, who nods, and Rory and I stand again, following my brother into the kitchen. The space is already tight with his wheelchair and the addition of me. Putting three of us in the room, it’s cramped. Still, we sit and eat in staggered silence and single-word answers to questions Nolan prompts, trying to pull his son into the conversation.

“How’s Brynne?” Nolan asks his son.

“Brynne?” I ask. “You got a girl?” A smile fills my voice, but Rory’s gaze drifts to his plate. He pushes around his food. Brynne. For a unique name, it sounds familiar.

“I’m getting married.”

My fork pauses midair as I turn my head to Nolan. “What? When?”