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  Nick enters his brother’s home without knocking. He simply turns the knob and knocks his boots on the doorjamb before entering. “Yo!” he calls into the foyer.

  “In here,” a voice calls from the back of the house.

  I blindly follow Nick into a warmly lit museum of taxidermied animals. A host of deer heads stare at me with glassy, vacant eyes as we pass through the living room. On the long accent table separating the living room from the main dining room, a fox is perched in a chunk of wood, frozen in its pursuit of a motionless vole. A creepy feeling skitters across my neck when I wonder if the spirits of the animals might be hanging around, wondering why they are on such display. Or if their glassy gaze has followed our path. I glance over my shoulder, prepared to see a herd of resurrected animals stalking me. I cover my mouth, stifling the squeak of relief when I see all the animals are still in place, and pick up the pace behind Nick so he doesn’t see my adolescent response to his brother’s decorative choices.

  Fish line the walls. A bouquet of pheasants appears to move across the ceiling, silhouetted by a large skylight. An uneasy feeling that sightless eyes are watching me makes my heart pound. It is unnerving. A sad feeling for the animals settles in my stomach, then drops for whomever has to spend the night in this place. They might be massacred by an army of pissed-off stuffed animals.

  Nick turns down a hallway, hollering to his brother in a one-word conversation. Happy to be moving away from the animal exhibit, I follow him. The quick turn brings me face-to-face with the black, sightless eyes of a big-horned sheep. A piercing scream rips from my throat as I stumble backward and land hard on my rear end. The sting of the hardwood floor against my sore, recently spanked butt cheek has me writhing on the ground, clutching my rear end, and stifling a pained groan.

  Nick seems unaffected as he surveys the ram. “He won’t bite.” He snickers as he holds his hand out to me. “His days of sneaking up on anyone are long gone. You okay?”

  I shake out my hands, numb from the adrenaline, before taking Nick’s and allowing him to hoist me up. “There is dead stuff everywhere!”

  “Yeah,” he looks around. “Evan’s a weirdo like that.”

  “I’m not a weirdo. I’m a really good shot.” From the back of the hallway, the Harris clone who pulled me from the dirt after the bear incident emerges.

  Evan is a little taller than Nick, with the classic, muscular Harris build. His beard and overall ruggedness make me think he has some serious survival skills. In worn tan pants and a thick Henley shirt, Evan looks capable of handling anything.

  “Don’t let him fool you,” another voice counters. “He’s a mediocre shot with a lot of opportunities.” This brother steps in front of Evan and extends his hand. “Jude Harris. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jude is clean-shaven and is dressed like a wilderness-catalog model. His handshake lingers a little too long.

  Nick clears his throat and steps a little closer to me. “Skyler, Jude owns the wilderness outfit in town and is responsible for your running gear. You remember Evan from the other day. He takes people out to kill things.”

  I nod to both of them. “Hi. Sorry I freaked out about”—I gesture to the ram—“your stuffed animals.”

  “Don’t be.” Evan’s smile is happy, unguarded. “I had a chick in here once who swindled me into making a romantic dinner. She wasn’t in here five minutes before she threw red paint all over my bear. Keep your art supplies to yourself, and we’re cool.”

  “That chick was batshit crazy, man,” Jude said. “Thank god she left before you grilled those sirloins. They were delicious.”

  Evan high-fives Jude. “Right,” he agrees. “Do me a favor, Skyler—if you can’t handle my place, let’s go to Jude’s house for dinner. He’s got some industrial thing going on. No dead ducks.”

  “It’s modern, and it doesn’t look like it should smell like an old hunting cabin,” Jude offers as Evan punches his arm.

  I look around at the three of them. Nick raises an eyebrow, signaling that it’s my choice to stay or go. “It’s okay. I wasn’t prepared to see your conquests all over the wall. But it’s fine.”

  Nick snorts. “His conquests are all over town too.”

  “Easy, Nico,” Evan warns before looking back at me. “I’d hate for Skyler to have a negative impression of me so early on.”

  “Too late,” Nick issues with a heavy glare. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Steaks,” Jude says with an absent tone as his gaze moves between the three of us.

  Evan simply inhales and carries on. “Wyatt is bringing lobster in. I’m sure he’ll be happy to be in such beautiful company.” His smile lands brightly on me. Nick’s shoulder bunch, then relax.

  “Are we done?” Nick asks, waiting for his brothers.

  Evan laughs and gives me a sly look. “I always loved giving him shit when he brought girls home. It’s been so long since we could rib him. Thank you, Skyler, for giving us the pleasure of harassing our baby brother.” He never flinched at Nick’s response or gave him grief about his attitude.

  “Okay. That’s enough of that,” Nick says, moving in close and taking hold of my hand. “I’ll show Sky the backyard.”

  Nick pulls on my arm, leading me outside. A quick look over my shoulder reveals Evan and Jude watching us with curious eyes. The warmth of embarrassment burns against my cold cheeks. It was one thing to freak out over the animals. I was totally unprepared for Nick’s brothers to test his level of possessiveness. Nick’s claim on me at Reign is a whispered rule that isn’t documented yet is publicly acknowledged. With his brothers—here, in his home—the rules appear to be different. And again, the difference is Nick.

  “What was that?” I ask once we’ve walked far enough away from the house.

  “My brothers,” Nick replies without any intention. “Those assholes are my brothers. Granted, they are worlds better than Adam, but still—”

  “That’s not what I’m asking. I can look at them and see you all share DNA. I’ve never seen you so restrained before.”

  Nick’s mouth presses shut, the muscle in his jaw ticking. Deep-green eyes stare at my own before he looks away. He shakes his head before dropping his gaze to the ground, kicking at the snow. “I don’t do words well. You know that.”

  “You did them fine back there and last night.”

  He inhales, then blows out. His breath materializes as gray smoke in the cold air. “I don’t know. Evan is a ladies’ man. I saw him with that look in his eye, and it makes me nuts when anyone looks at you like that.” Nick’s face softens. “When it comes to you, I get jealous. You know that.”

  “Do I?”

  Nick looks confused. “Skyler, how could you not?”

  “Words, Nick. Words help a girl figure stuff out.”

  He looks around the backyard before his gaze falls to his feet. “I’ve always had this ring around you. People knew not to pass the perimeter.”

  “People like?”

  He grumbles as he kicks at the ground. “Like Glen . . . and Dylan.”

  “What does this ring look like?”

  Nick’s gaze snaps up. “You asked me to name names, and you are moving on?”

  “It’s nice to be wanted.” I shrug off his irritated glare. “Glen is not my type. Dylan is as greasy as his hair. No thanks. Tell me what you did?”

  “I made sure people knew you were off-limits.”

  “Did these people include Caleb?”

  He nods. “He warned me about the possibility of you making the choice to . . . move on.”

  “And?”

  Nick rolls his eyes and fixes his gaze on the forest lining Evan’s home. “I don’t know, Sky. I thought about it, but we always fell into our routines, and it felt, um, acceptable?”

  “Acceptable? You think that was acceptable? Nick, we lived a cinder-block wall away from each other for years, and our relationship never expanded beyond our weekend activities.”

  “I’m not saying it was right. I get j
ealous. I’m possessive.” He looks back at the house and takes a deep breath. “I watched Blake touch you, and I lost it. I can’t image what would happen if I really hated the guy.” His face crumples with the sour words. “I wondered about that every day you were gone. That I’d gone too far, pushed the limit between us. Caleb warned me. Ax warned me. I didn’t know how to start that conversation. I’m pulled between here and there. I was always comfortable with you being there until you weren’t.”

  His frustration seems exaggerated from Caleb’s reports. According to Caleb, Nick was fine. Completely unruffled by my exit. There has always been comfort in Nick’s unspoken protection.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think . . .”

  Nick shakes his head and shrugs.

  “When Ronnie kissed you, I forced myself to remain polite.”

  His lips curl as his head nods. “She generates a particular irritation whenever she’s around.”

  “I wanted to rip her to ribbons.”

  An adorable smirk begins curling his mouth. “Because she kissed me?”

  I nod, and his smile widens.

  “Badass.” He pulls me close and brushes a dusting of snow from my hair before kissing me soundly in the silence of his brother’s backyard.

  An hour later, Wyatt arrives with fresh lobster and all the accoutrements for a wintertime clambake. Potatoes, corn, sausage, shrimp, and mussels fill the large steamer on an open fire. The scent of wood, seafood, butter, and peppery spice fills the air. The air loses its harsh bite when the massive fire brings our feast to a delicious boil. The flames throw frenetic shadows across the white lawn that appears to glow in the moonlight.

  Lounging in oversized Adirondack chairs, the brothers talk about the park dedication. Evan and Jude talk about the outfitting shop and upcoming guided tours they are developing. Wyatt talks about his prep for heading out to fish. Nick participates in the conversation as if he is part of their daily life. He might be absent, but his connection to his brothers is tight.

  The tensions, the quick frustration, is gone. Even when his brothers rib him or regale me with tales of Nick as an awkward teen, he never gets angry. He simply tilts his head back and laughs.

  Throughout the evening, Evan supplies me with sweet blueberry wine. Jude passes bottle after bottle of microbrews to his brothers. The edges of the world seem fuzzy, the air a little too warm, until we eat deliciously grilled seafood and steaks. Even with the slight buzz, this foreign world is comforting and fun.

  Nicholas William Harris is free, comfortable, and open with his family. Open to me, without care for who is watching. His sparse affection in Boston was only in the confines of a scene or the single intimate moment we shared. After dinner, Nick takes my hand in his, the calloused pad of this thumb brushing against my palm. He pulls me to sit on the arm of his chair, his free hand resting on my thigh.

  He finishes a glass of water, his second after dinner, and leaves it on the table after Evan insists he will clean up. “Ready to go, angel?” Nick looks at me with heated eyes. He wants me, us.

  “Sure.” I fumble with a polite response. “If you are.”

  Nick pulls me into his lap, his gentle kiss unlike the savage plundering of his past affection. As I nestle against his body, the warmth of his mouth presses against my icy hesitations. In full view of his brothers, Nick’s hand runs the length of my back. “I am.”

  His open affection, his acceptance of us, splits a deep fissure in my anxiety over Nick’s dismissal. I feel emboldened, knowing my confession will be heard, and I hope, accepted.

  I love you.

  I had a double mastectomy to save my life.

  My body is scarred and different.

  I survived this year of torture because of my memories of you . . . us.

  I’m sorry I left. I should have told you.

  Please forgive me.

  Please accept me.

  Please make new memories with me.

  “Okay,” I reply, maybe too quickly, because his brothers all have that I-know-what-you-are-gonna-do look. I don’t have the decency to blush. “Thank you for dinner and the evening. I had a great time.”

  “Anytime, Skyler,” Evan responds. “We’ll see you soon.”

  Nick pulls me off the porch and toward the snowmobile. “The instant we get home, you’re going to feel the depth of my possessiveness.”

  The deep timbre of his voice feels so familiar, it centers my scattered mind. Nick has been my focal point, my anchor in moments of uncertainty and truth. I need him to know that he has been my center in times of disarray and fear. He might not know everything, but he knows me. I know him.

  I have to trust and give and feel. I hear Caleb’s mantra push through my mind as we walk through knee-deep snow to the sled: Nick has deeper feelings for you than you know. I think he can handle this. Give him the option to handle this, Sky.

  “Hey, Nico,” Wyatt calls from the porch. “You okay to drive? It’s nasty out there.”

  Nick waves him off. “I’m good. I want to show Skyler the overlook before we head home.”

  Wyatt looks hesitant. “Safe ride, brother.”

  Nick warms up the engine while he pulls on his hat and goggles. “We’ll take a quick detour. The view from the top of my property is beautiful at night.” He pulls me in, rough and quick. His solid body overwhelms me, consuming my vision of the expansive skyline. “Then, you’re mine.”

  “Nick.” The word is a whisper caught when he presses his mouth to mine, his teeth biting my lip. The growl is primal, emanating from him a moment before he grips my hair. In his arms, I melt, allowing him entrance to all parts of my world. His tongue invades my mouth and demands my response. Nick’s dominance kicks down the barriers separating mind and body.

  “Off my lawn before I turn the hose on you,” Evan yells from the porch. “Get naked on your own property.”

  Nick gives his brother the middle finger before getting on the snowmobile. I settle behind him and gasp when the vibration of the seat jolts my sensitive body. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I can’t help but brush the thick ridge of his jeans. His hips push back, bumping into my splayed legs, igniting the aching need.

  “Let’s go, Nick. Please. I can’t take much more of this teasing.”

  “You’ll wait as long as I want you to, angel.” He flashes a menacing smile. Why I think a look designed to intimidate is hotter than hell, I’m not so sure. It makes my decision to confess everything to Nick a little easier. He knows the impact of a sensual threat on me. We were made for each other.

  “I’ll wait for as long as you need.” My lips brush his ear, my tongue playing against his skin. The steely cage of his body rattles from the contact. He nods and revs the engine.

  Then we are off.

  Chapter 18

  Nick

  The overlook is my place of peace. I wrestled with Adam for the property when we were dividing the land. Literally. I got him in the camel clutch, and it was over. He might be taller, but I’m younger and stronger.

  My world whips by as we barrel toward the top of the ridge. The trail is empty despite multiple fresh tracks cutting into the snow and ice. The state allows trail riders during all seasons. Part of my property overlaps some of the trails, so I allow people access. State troopers patrol the trails and ensure that visitors stay on the public trails. My private property is marked, and there have only been a few incidents of people violating the boundaries.

  Near the crest of the hill, we hit a patch of ice, causing the tail of the snowmobile to kick out. Sky squeals, her grip around my waist tightening. Straightening the sled with one hand, I use the other to grip her entwined hands. She’s covered in safety equipment, but the thought of her being thrown from the back is unnerving.

  We peak the final hill and I cut the engine. At the top of my world, the sky explodes with a million stars. Silent orbs of light puncturing the darkness of night illuminate the snow-covered valley below. At this elevation, the only sound is nature. No
phones. No engines. No useless chatter.

  Here the world is peaceful. Here is where I longed to be when Sky was gone. Here is where I couldn’t be, because the thought of her returning to Reign alone was intolerable. This place is my heaven. My clean space in a cluttered world.

  “Oh my gosh,” she whispers. Her voice catches, emotion choking it. “This is so beautiful.”

  Her hair is flat from my helmet, her eyes are wet with tears. Sky’s hand is trembling when her small fingers wrap around my mine.

  “Hey.” I step closer to her, caging her hand in mine. She tries to pull away, her head rocking back and forth as she wipes tears from her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  She sniffs. “I don’t know, Nick,” she mumbles. “I wanted to rip your pants off a few minutes ago, and I thought we were going to crash, and now this.” She gestures to the world I’ve called my home. “And you.” She wipes tears away.

  “It’s okay. I’ve taken worse skids that that. I know it was scary, but I’ve got you.”

  She nods and swallows. “I know, but I need to talk to you. I need to tell you where I was and what happened.”

  Skyler is the most solid woman I know. She never wavers. I have never seen her cry. Skyler fights. Skyler is a force to be reckoned with. This emotion, even though the sled only hit a rough patch of ice, is out of character.

  My plan to spill my guts wraps around itself again. In the expanse of the evening, I saw my future: Skyler with my family. We were happy and enjoying life in our home. The urge to bring her to my favorite place and tell her everything took over.

  “Okay.” I bolster myself for the words that could shift everything. I love someone else.

  “Can we go home?” she asks. “I want to be home so I can show you.”

  Her word—home—stirs hopeful feelings. Even in Boston, she never called the place we lived home. It was Reign or my room, never home.

  “Sure.” I press the back of her hand to my mouth. “Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.”