My heart broke for him. I could finally see all of the pieces, and I had to be honest, it left me reeling. Tam was right. Maybe I did always want to find heroes and villains. I wanted so badly to defend the Davids of the world from the Goliaths that I completely lost sight of the fact some people were just… Anthonys.
Typical greed. Simple manipulation to feed big egos. And in this case, wanting to have your cake and eat it, too.
I let out a long breath and cursed myself for also failing to steal my phone charger back from my sister. Because after all of the navigation, calling, and note-taking today, my phone was deader than dead, and I was unable to reassure Brewer, Tam, or anyone that I was finally on my way home.
Maybe it was for the best.
Brewer was going to be so upset with me when he realized I’d come this close to writing an article spinning his father as a victim when the truth was, his father was neither hero nor villain. He was simply an ass.
Halfway to Southbourne, I’d heard back from Amber, who’d managed to track down the trust beneficiaries for Belles Pivoines Trust.
“There’s only one, Delaney,” she’d said. “Brewer Harmon.”
As soon as she’d said it, my brain had belatedly served up the reason the name of the trust had sounded so familiar. I’d seen it printed in small letters on the underside of every teacup in Brewer’s grandmother’s collection.
Belles Pivoines. A symbol of the family legacy Brewer clung to with both hands and his full heart.
I groaned into the dark night. Today was supposed to be the day I told him how much I cared about him. That I wanted a future with him.
That he was mine and I was his.
But now… would he even listen? Would he want a future with someone who was so incredibly naive that I fell for the lies his father had told me?
Not lies, maybe, but half-truths and spin.
Something a good journalist should have recognized.
When I finally pulled into the driveway and saw my house—every window spilling over with golden light, that big red pickup truck parked in front of the garage—my shoulders hiked up even higher.
I loved him.
I loved him so much I wanted to cry. Because this news was going to crush him, and I wanted to be the one to comfort him when it happened.
Of course, I wouldn’t publish the article now, not if it would cause him any harm. But the mere fact I’d spent the past four months sympathizing with the man who’d seemingly been an innocent victim of big bad Empire Ridge was probably enough to make Brewer second-guess his decision to trust me.
And trust was everything to him.
I didn’t walk up the front path; I slunk.
Despite taking my time unlocking the door, it flew out of my hands the moment I pushed it. Six feet of Brewer, wearing his heavy jacket and a face like a storm cloud, greeted me.
“Oh!” I pushed up my glasses and laughed a little nervously before I dropped my laptop bag to the floor. “You startled me. Hi. I’m sorry I’m—mmmph!”
Brewer’s strong arms came around me, lifting me entirely off my feet. Then his lips met mine with bruising force, and he kissed the living shit out of me.
It took me half a second to react, but once I did, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Emotions crashed together in my head and heart, but one thing I knew.
I would take every single fucking thing I could get from him that he was willing to give me.
I noticed every detail. Brewer’s lips were cold, but his mouth was hot and hard and tasted likethe gum he chewed when he was nervous. His hands clutched the back of my coat like it had personally offended him. And the breaths punching out of him were ragged and fast, as if he’d run to the door from somewhere far away.
I was back on my feet before I could fully process the change in altitude.
“Where have you been?” he demanded, stepping away.
Disoriented, I stammered, “I texted you. Earlier, I mean. I… I caught a lead, which led to like four other leads, although I only actually followed one?—”
“Christ, Delaney! That was hours ago! It’s almost nine.” Brewer stuffed his hands in his coat pocket. “I had no idea where you were.”
