Page 32 of Scorched

A soft laugh rumbled from his chest. “Sit. Misery loves company.”

Shore chuckled as he sat. “Yeah. It seems it does.”

His words were nonchalant, but Tidy heard the true emotion behind the statement. “What’s got you down tonight?”

“That’s a drunken discussion.” He sipped his drink.

Tidy motioned in the direction of a small room off the dining room that had a bar and liquor. “We could justifiably add some whiskey to these. It’s not like it’s midday or something.”

Shore shook his head. “Nah. I might be down, but not so much I’ll kill myself mixing caffeine with alcohol.”

Tidy realized he smiled. Sometimes he forgot how much he enjoyed his brother's company. They had shared many late-night conversations. “I hear you. It’s the wedding thing, isn’t it? The life we’ve lived didn’t prepare us to want those things for ourselves.”

“Yeah.” Shore took another drink. “I never thought I’d feel jealous over such a thing.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Or lonely.”

“That too.”

They drank their coffee in comfortable silence until their peace was disturbed by Jett rambling in. He switched on the lights. “Why are you two sitting in the dark?” His gaze swung toward the machine. “I thought I smelled coffee.”

Shore and Tidy exchanged smiles.

Jett poured himself a cup. He didn’t join them. Instead, he leaned back against the counter on the opposite side of the island and drank. He eyed them. “You two look miserable.”

Shore leaned Tidy’s way. Their shoulders touched and stayed. They were literally leaning on each other for support. “Nah. We’re just enjoying some family time.”

Jett nodded. “I get it. I’ll take my coffee to go.” He took one step and paused. Jett looked between them. “Unless you two would like to join me in my room.”

They didn’t even look at each other before answering simultaneously, “We’re good.”

Jett lifted his cup as if giving them a silent cheers. “I’ll leave you to it, then. If you change your minds, you know where to find me.”

“Okay.” Once again, they answered in unison.

With a short bow, acting ridiculous, Jett scooted sideways toward the door. “I bid you goodnight.”

“Good night.” This time, Shore answered alone.

Tidy wasn’t sure he cared if Jett had a good night or not. A friendship like theirs had grown a little stale, being one of many juggled, and always feeling like the final choice. The one he settled for. He was back to brooding, but not for long. Shore’s comforting heat at his side warmed his chest with love.

“I guess it was some shit finding out you’re not related by blood.”

The subject didn’t hurt any longer. All the brothers had talked it over already. This was just the first time he had discussed this privately with anyone other than Crisp. “Yeah, but I’m over it. You guys are everything to me. I know I don’t hang around often and show it, but I love you guys. Nothing can change that.”

“Mhmm.” Shore took another sip. “I, for one, was relieved to find out we’re not blood.”

Tidy hadn’t been looking at Shore. His head whipped around. He found Shore staring at him. He looked completely serious. Too many words ran through his head; Tidy didn’t know which ones to use. His first reaction had been a stab through the heart. Shore’s expression stopped that bullshit in its tracks.

Heat blasted him. Him. The final choice. “You want to take this coffee to go?”

Tidy nodded without his brain’s permission. It seemed his body knew what he wanted before his mind could accept a thing. “Yeah, we should do that.”

Together they slipped from their stools and headed for the door. He always made dumb decisions, but—oddly—Shore didn’t feel like one.

Chapter Fourteen

One of their greatest wedding gifts had come from Atticus. With Beau’s permission, of course. Atticus had built them their own little cottage on the property. He said he had intended the place to be for Kirkland, kind of a retirement slash birthday gift. But turning the place into their own love nest for their wedding made more sense. He had time to get Kirkland something else for his birthday. Decorating the place with Fabrice was fun. He had expected to simply capitulate to Fabrice’s every decision. Happy husband, happy home. Instead, Fabrice had been adamant they sat down together to make each decision. They could have simply moved Fabrice’s furniture from his room, but they wanted this new space to be a place they created together. He would have thought picking through paint samples and swatches would drive him insane. No. He couldn’t get enough.