The Mclendon twins are all grown up and-OMG-are they ever a double handful! Country music gods, these golden boys of Falcon Ridge are in for some tough lessons in family and love. When their beloved Papa falls ill, they are called home to the place that holds both their hearts and a painful secret. Can they face their past and heal their wandering souls, or will they turn their backs on the one person who can make them whole again?
Hot holy damn! It’d happened. Connor stood at the foot of the stairs and tried to remember how to breathe.
He’d never put much stock in the lightning bolt, earthquake hoopla their dads and Papa Joe fed them over the years about what they felt when they found Mom and Gran. Twenty-four hours earlier, he would have rolled his eyes at one of their stories, but the second he came down those stairs and saw Breezy curled up in his brother’s arms, he knew. She was theirs. Completely.
There had been no lightning bolt, no thunder, not even a tremor. The pull to join them on that couch, however, had been like a subtle, vivid instinct seated deep within and impossible to ignore.
He pressed his fist into the center of his chest where the feeling was still fresh and fluttering around like a caged bird begging to be freed. It was the most amazing feeling, comparable only to bringing life to a new song.
The instant attraction he’d felt to her suddenly made sense. Her taste, her scent, the feel of her beneath him, had all felt so fresh and familiar. On some elemental level his body knew she was the missing part of him.
“You were right to cancel New York, bro,” Carson said, dousing his new revelation with a barrel of cold reality. “No way I could sing like this anyway.”
Connor studied his twin. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going back to bed.” Carson groaned as he flopped back onto the couch and pulled a quilt over his legs.
“No. I mean, what are you doing with Breezy?”
Carson rolled his eyes and turned his back to him. “I was sleeping.”
“Car, I’m serious.” He walked over and snatched the quilt from his twin. “What kind of game are you playing with her?”
“I’m not playing any games.” Carson reached out and snatched the quilt back. “You were right, okay? Is that what you want to hear?”
“Right about what?”
“Me fucking everything up, Breezy, all of it.” Carson sighed, settling back into the couch, his face pinched in pain.
Connor tried to read between the lines, unsure of what he meant. “I don’t understand,” he said, plopping down on the end of the coffee table.
“I’ve been a dick,” Carson said, sliding farther under the quilt. “What more is there to understand?”
That was an understatement. “Let’s start with why you’ve been a dick.”
Carson huffed, wiping his palm across his sweaty forehead. “Does it matter?”
“Hell yeah, it matters.”
“I don’t want to fight anymore, okay? I want things to go back to the way they were between us, and for Papa Joe to get better. That’s it.”
“And what about Breezy? Are you saying you all of a sudden don’t believe the shit you’ve spouted about her for how many years now?”
“No. Maybe.” Carson stared at the ceiling, his lips pressing into a grim line. “Papa Joe told me some things last night that don’t add up.” Between coughing spells, Carson relayed the things their grandfather had told him, including his possibly cataclysmicmisconception about Ford’s visits with Charlotte.
“Damn, Car. You don’t think he beat her, do you?” He searched through his memories, but couldn’t remember seeing any bruises. That didn’t mean there hadn’t been any.
“I don’t know,” Carson grumbled. “But if it’s true, I don’t know why she hasn’t told me to go to hell already.”
Connor shook his head. “I talked to her yesterday. She’s just as eaten up about everything as you are.”
A contrite look swirled in Carson’s eyes before he looked away, his fingers plucking at the stitches in the quilt as he spoke. “Did she, uh, say anything else? About yesterday?”
“Shit, Car. What did you do?”
“I didn’t—”
“Did you kiss her?”
“No!” Carson snapped, searing him with a calculating glare. “Did you fuck her?”
“No.” Though, he may have if not for their Uncle Cade shooting down that drone. He’d never felt a spark, an electrical overload, like the one that arced between them. “She’s different. It’s not like that.”
“Are you saying you want her all to yourself, then? That you don’t want to share?”
No sooner had Carson’s question reached Connor’s ears, than that very image appeared in his mind. Christ, she’d been so hot beneath him. He could only imagine what it would be like with her between them, naked and writhing and responding to them with that same passion. His cock responded to the fantasy and Carson took notice.
“I didn’t think so.” Carson chuckled and rolled onto his side, turning his back to Connor again.
Dammit. What was he going to say? He sure as hell wasn’t going to say no, but should he tell his brother how serious he was about her? If what he’d felt earlier was real, Carson would have to feel it too, wouldn’t he? But if they couldn’t even share a bedroom, how the hell were they going to share a wife?
He didn’t have a clue what was going on inside his twin’s head. Whatever he was thinking, Connor wasn’t dumb enough to believe it was thoughts of forever. Not yet. But, if he had any chance of making that dream a reality, they had to start somewhere, right?
“I like her, Car. I like her a lot, and I want you to like her, too, but not if you’re screwing around. Not with Breezy. She’s not like the women on the road you can fuck and forget.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Carson grumbled into the back of the couch. “Look, I’m game for whatever you want, Con. Just let me know when and where.”
“I don’t want her to get hurt again,” Connor clarified.
“I’m not screwing around,” Carson assured him, his irritation evident in his tone even as he struggled through another round of rattling coughs. “Damn, this cold is kicking my ass.”
What was Carson thinking? What had changed? “Do you think you can truly let go of the past and see where this goes?” he asked one final time. “Look at me and tell me that’s what you want.”
Carson rolled over, letting out a long sigh before he met Connor’s questioning gaze. “I thought that’s what I was doing.”
Connor studied him for a moment, seeing a mixture of resigned indifference and hesitant sincerity in his brother’s eyes. It was enough, for now. He gave his brother a nod of agreement and stood. “Okay,” he said and held his brother’s gaze. “But, if you do hurt her, I’ll be the one kicking your ass.”
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D.L. Roan loves combining fantasy with the real world, giving her readers more than just a book or romance, but a true adventure in love. Her characters are always real to her and she genuinely enjoys bringing them to life for her readers.
She's a native Floridian, a rare breed in a land of snow birds. Scuba diving and hunting for shark's teeth on the beach are two of her favorite things. Oh! And building sand castles instead of snowmen in December and sending pictures of them to all her snowbound friends. She loves rainy days, thunderstorms and is an avid dog lover. Yes, size matters. She hopes to one day add a big ol' floppy Great Dane to her family of hounds.
Check out the links in the back of her books for details about her secret fan group where she hangs out with her fans who get first dibs on all her sexy stories!
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