Abby. The girl who looked like a strong wind could blow her over. She rarely spoke and stuck close to her two brothers’ sides whenever she was around. She had that kind of pranking streak in her?

I grunted, picking up the bourbon again. “No offense, but your siblings have changed. For the worse.”

She sobered. A beat later, she said softly, “Karen died. They moved away. Life changes people. They forget.”

Life hardened people.

She didn’t say it, but I heard it.

I looked at her again, like I was seeing her anew. “That’s why you stay out there.”

Her eyes widened. She looked stricken.

“You don’t want to forget your mother.”

One beat.

We stared at each other, both knowing that I crossed the line. I should take back my words, but I couldn’t. She was going to bolt. I didn’t have time.

We moved at the same time.

I knew she was going to run, and I went for the patio door. I meant to block her, to apologize.

She didn’t go back for the door. She launched herself over the patio.

“Morgan!”

My heart stopped. Literally.

It was a ten-foot drop.

The world paused in that second, and then I was at the edge. I wasn’t ready to see her body there, but my God, if I hadn’t known I cared for her, I would’ve then.

Fear like I’d only experienced one other time crashed through me.

Not again. Please not again.

But she wasn’t down there. I searched the ground. There was no sight of her.

Shit, shit, shit!

“Morgan.”

Where was she?

I scanned the grounds, and then I saw her.

She was jogging down the field, and already knowing what I’d see, I spotted her horse at the end of the fence. She was waiting for Morgan as if the girl had called for a car or something.

A raw laugh ripped from me, and I fell back into my chair.

My heart was racing.

My body heat was a bonfire, and I’d never been so relieved before.

I was happy, but I fucked up, and I wasn’t so upset about that, either, because I had my answer. I had suspected before, but I had as much pull on her as she had on me. Whatever we were locked in, we were both in it.

She’d be back.

Brody

Thirty minutes later, I’d finished the last of the bourbon and was heading to bed when a tentative knock had my dick hard again. Instead of heading to my bedroom, I kept straight and swung open the door.

“You actually know how to knoc—” My words died in my throat.

I wasn’t staring at Morgan. I was staring at her stepsister.

“Oh.” My hand let go of the door, and I stepped back.

Abigail Kellerman, whom I met briefly my first night there, was standing on the porch, not a single brother in sight.

I chuckled to myself, pointing to the door. “Is that weird for you?”

“What?”

“Having to knock on your own door? This is technically your place, not mine.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She wasn’t in my headspace. I waved a hand inside. “Come on in.” I held up the empty bottle. “I’ve had a few, so fair warning.”

I didn’t mean to, but I knew I was giving her the rakish grin I reserved to turn a woman on. The bourbon was messing with me, making me go into work mode. I didn’t want to do that, not with her, at least.

I shook my head, trying to clear the act.

I was about to shut the door but paused. “You’re not here to sleep with me, are you?”

Her eyes threatened to bulge out, and her neck reddening as she patted her hair in a nervous habit. “What? No. Oh my gosh. No.” She stopped patting her hair, and her head bent forward, her eyebrows pinching hard together. “Though, I suppose that does happen to you.”

We were in the clear. I shut the door.

I motioned to the living room. “Did you want a seat or . . .” She walked to the patio, and a whole new understanding filled me.

I almost felt bad for her.

I moved to the doorway and studied her as she focused on the chair Morgan had been using thirty minutes ago.

I said, “You heard us?”

“I wanted to come before, but I was so scared of scaring her away. I heard her laugh.” Abigail laughed under her breath as she went to the chair. Her hand rested on the back of it. She sounded in awe. “It’s been so long since I heard that from her.”

Feeling twenty shades of awkward, I coughed. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No.” She turned those big eyes on me. “Can I—I mean . . . can you tell me about her?”

“What?”

“Yeah.” She sank onto Morgan’s chair, folding her hands in her lap. She was almost posing there, just on the edge of the seat. “Matthew’s talked to her, but he doesn’t freely talk about her. I don’t know. I can’t get a good sense of how she is from him, but he told me that she talks to you. Could you . . .” She waved for me to sit again in my old chair. “Please.”

“Do it, asshole. She’s a sis yearning for her other sis. It’s the least you could do.”

I could literally hear Kyle grumbling and sighed, taking a seat. I almost wanted another bottle of bourbon for this, but no. If it’d been Kyle. If it’d been me. I would’ve wanted to know too.