Page 82 of Falling Like Stars

“It was the first thing I did when the Godsent money started rolling in.”

“It’s a big one.”

“I know it. Probably a lot bigger than two retired people need, but I got carried away, being able to take care of them like that.”

“You did good, Butler.” Rowan slips her hand in mine. “I’m glad I’m here.”

“Me too,” I say, and move in to kiss her when the front door bangs open and Jeremy saunters out in a T-shirt, jeans, no shoes. My twin brother leans against the front porch railing, a shit-eating grin on his face, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. His hair’s longer than mine and messy, and there’s stubble on his cheeks.

“Brace yourself,” I tell Rowan as we head to the porch, dragging our luggage behind. “He’s a lot.”

“‘A lot’ meaning he’s obnoxious and overbearing…?”

“Nah, he’s a good guy but with an excessive amount of energy. Kind of like a St. Bernard puppy.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Zachary Ryan Butler in the flesh.” Jeremy hops down the three steps to engulf me in a hug. My eyes fall shut as I realize how much I’ve missed my brother and just being in Missouri. Home. My brother’s hug feels like being home before I even step in the house.

“Missed you, bro.”

“Missed you, too,” I reply.

He gives me a final squeeze and lets me go. “You must be Rowan,” he says, hand outstretched. “I’m Jeremy. Good to meet you.”

Rowan’s small hand is engulfed in his as her gaze goes between us.

“It’s weird, right?” Jeremy says with a laugh. “Same-same, but different.”

“Yeah,” Rowan says. “Like looking at a deep fake of Zach.”

I chuck my brother on the arm. “Hear that, Jer? You’re the AI version of me.”

“Where have I heard that before?”

Rowan waves her hands. “Oh my God, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s all good.” Jeremy slings his arm around my shoulders and grips my chin. He gives my face an affectionate shake. “We all know who’s got the moneymaker in the family.”

“When did you get in?” I say, disentangling myself from my brother and making him take Rowan’s luggage.

“Last night. From Dubai. And let me tell you, that is a flight and a half.”

“What do you do?” Rowan asks as we make our way into the foyer.

“Oh, little bit of this, little bit of that. I’m a jack-of-all-trades, you could say,” Jeremy says, and somehow manages to not sound completely douchey.

Rowan nods. “So…drug dealer.”

I burst out laughing while Jeremy gives me a nudge.

“Oh, I like her.”

Yeah, me too, I think. Love. I love her.

“I’m a photojournalist, actually,” Jeremy says as we move through the first sitting room, the one that’s only used for parties, so almost never.

I look dubious. “Since when?”

“Since three months ago, brother mine,” he says, and stops at the junction of the hallway and the sitting room. “At this outfit called Planet X. Big time magazine. They send me all over the world to take pictures and jump off cliffs and such.”

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