Prologue
Marlow
The balloons slipped from my fingers at the sound of a fist on the door.
He was home. And apparently following his crazy wife’s instructions to knock when he arrived.
I batted the strings out of the way, ducked beneath the Welcome Home banner, and flew to the foyer.
“I can’t believe you did what I asked,” I said, breathless as I threw open the door.
My face fell.
A uniformed officer stood on the porch, a folded flag in hand.
“No.” I clutched my stomach. “No. No, no, no, no, no.”
My knees hit the hardwood floor. The world became blurry.
“Jack,” I screamed until his name was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.
“The Secretary of the Army regrets to inform you—”
“Shut up.” I beat my fists on his thighs. “Shut up.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
I wilted, dropping my forehead to the floor. “Jack. Why did you have to be a hero?”
Chapter One
Marlow
I wheeled the stroller to a stop.
“You ready for this, little man?”
I touched my son’s chubby cheek, his answer a toothy grin.
“No pressure, but this will probably come down to you.” Drool hit my thumb. “Guess that means you’re up for the challenge.”
I wiped my hand on my sweater, gripped the handle of the stroller with one hand, and opened the old metal door with the other. A loud creak announce my arrival.
I squinted as my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside. Somewhere in the distance the sound of a drill pierced my ears, followed by the bang of a hammer.
This place was a mess. And much bigger than I’d anticipated.
The stroller left tracks as I pushed it across the dusty concrete. Two faces stared at me from behind the worn reception desk.
“How!” My son punched his tiny fist in the air, already doing his part to charm them.
“How, buddy.”
My chest squeezed as my brother’s expression softened.
You’ve got this, Marlow.
I gathered my courage and straightened my spine. “I was wrong.”
That was a lot harder to say than I thought it would be.
“Yeah, you were,” he said.
That was fair. Not the warm forgiveness I’d been hoping for. Then again, I didn’t deserve it.
“I didn’t mean—” I looked away, all the words I needed to say jumbled in my head. Finally, I figured some out. “I love you.”
He crossed his arms. Definitely not the response I’d been looking for. “I love you too.” The phrase was spoken tightly, framed by his hurt. Hurt that I’d caused.
“I just needed—” I closed my eyes. I was screwing this up royally. “Never mind.” I forced myself to look at him, so he could see I was telling the truth. “I’m not speaking to her anymore.”
His face was like a stone. “Only time will prove that.”
“I swear I didn’t tell her about the wedding,” I said, almost pleading. “I know I’m the reason for our problems.” Even now, I was so incredibly angry at myself for choosing to believe our mother’s lies. How she pretended to love me, want me, yet was screwing up everyone else’s lives. And eventually my own too.
My brother appeared stunned. I rarely apologized. “I said my fair share of awful things too.”
We looked at one another for a long time and came to a silent truce, just like we’d done as kids. It gave me the courage to do what I’d come here to do.
“Heard you were in the market for a receptionist.” She glanced down at Blake. “How about two for the price of one?”
Holt blinked at me. Baker’s lips parted. He looked at his girlfriend, and she lifted her shoulder in a helpless shrug.
I clamped my mouth shut. I tossed him the ball, now it was up to him.
“You want to work here? For me?” He spoke as if it were the first time, each word a test.
I brushed imaginary lint off the canopy of the stroller.
“You’re starting a new business. You need cheap labor, right?”
“You already have a job. Why would you give up steady income when you have Blake—”
“I got fired,” I barked as shame filled me.
He stared at me in horror. I couldn’t even look at Baker’s reaction. I’d worked hard to become a medical transcriptionist. It had been way easier to blow it.
“What happened?” Holt asked carefully.
I straightened. “After . . . I couldn’t handle it.” I’d forced myself to go back to work for Blake. Maybe it had been too soon.
“Marlow, I’m sorry. We’ve tried to be understanding about your . . . situation. If you show up at all, you’re making too many mistakes. We have to let you go.”
I hadn’t had it in me to be humiliated. I didn’t care about anything except that my son didn’t have a father. Would never know him.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
I glared at him. “Why do you think?” I shouldn’t have snapped, but this was hard enough to admit in the first place.
“When did this happen?”
“Almost two years ago.”
He was quiet for a minute. I shifted in the uncomfortable silence. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here.
“I need dependable employees,” he said far too patiently. “Ones that aren’t liars.”
Ouch. I pretended not to hear the dig.
“When do you plan on opening?” My eyes drifted around the space again. Looked like a long way away.
“About a month.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “What are you doing here?”
We hadn’t really spoken much since the trip to Wyoming where I inadvertently almost ruined our brother Andrew’s wedding. I didn’t know how to answer him, only that I was sick of the distance between my family and me.
“You want a receptionist or not?”
“Dad said he’d help out until I find someone.” Holt quickly looked away in a why am I telling her this fashion.
“He’s keeping Ella almost every day. You can’t pile this on him too.”
“Because he’s buried underneath all the shit you’ve shoveled on top of him?”
Damn it. I was messing this up terribly.
“Yeah. That’s part of it.”
He stumbled back. That was about as much of an admittance of wrongdoing as I could muster.
I looked past him and then out to the open space where he could work on cars. “Looks like you could use all the help you can get.”
Baker stepped in front of Holt. “Are you here to cause trouble?”
“What did I say?” I snapped before I reeled it in. “Look. The offer’s on the table. You want our help, you’ve got it. You don’t . . .” I shrugged even as my stomach knotted.
Another epic fail by Marlow Linley.
Holt squeezed her shoulders. We stared at one another around his protector.
So much for our temporary truce.
I wheeled the stroller around and headed for the door without another word. Message clear. Big sister wasn’t wanted.