Page 14 of Hart Breaker

Boone chuckles as he passes her on his way to the fridge. “That counter would be a perfect place to show the woman of the house your appreciation for a home-cooked meal. Don’t you think, Riley?”

“Why are you asking me that? I didn’t even engage in your conversation.”

“You’re the one with a ring on your finger,” he answers easily as he grabs four beers from the fridge.

Riley holds up her hand. “Roads are getting sloppy; I’m good.”

“Oh shit, did you all want a drink?” he jokes as he sets them on the counter.

“You’re going to drink all four?” Sydney asks.

“After the past few hours, I could drink fourteen.” He twists the cap off and slides one down the white marble countertop toward Sydney. “You deserve a drink for finding Lovey and saving me from feeling like I’m cuffed to a chair in a cell at Gitmo tomorrow when my little flower wakes up.”

“There’s no way that sweet little girl is as bad as you’re making her sound.”

“I can handle the siren sound she makes when she pissed, but …” He stops and shakes his head. “Ask Hart, he was almost in tears.”

They look at me for confirmation.

“I wasn’t in tears, but I wasn’t unaffected by her body trembles and silent shakes.”

“Aftershock.” Boone slides me a beer.

“I’m scarred for life,” I admit before taking a sip.

“You have a sister. You’ve seen a girl cry, haven’t you?”

I nod as I swallow down the cold drink. “Wasn’t a lot of crying. Jillian’s a warrior. So is Mom.”

They had to be.

The light catches on Riley’s ring, and I find myself staring at it and feel my throat tighten.

“You have a sister?” Sydney asks Boone.

“Hell no. The old man only made boys,” he states and holds up his hand. “Five of us.”

“You the oldest?” she asks.

“Irish triplet.” He chuckles. “The twins, Bronson and Benton, were born eleven months after me, Blane eleven months after them, and Mom found out she was pregnant with Bishop the day before she was supposed to get her tubes tied. Can you guess how many months after Blane that was?”

“Eleven months?” Sydney asks, still having not touched her beer.

“Nope.” Boone grins. “He was a little longer than that. He and I share a birthday with Jesus.”

I shake my head. “Your poor mother. Physically and financially, that’s gotta be brutal.”

“No, brutal is when he left her for one of the horse trainers when Bishop was still in diapers.” He chuckles.

“What a piece of shit,” Riley snarls.

“Sure is.” He tips back his beer and empties it, sets it on the counter, and opens the next. “Technically, I have a sister. Never met her, though.” He chuckles darkly. “She’s eleven months younger than Blane.”

“Someone needs to chop his balls off,” Sydney huffs.

Instinctually, both Boone and I suck in a breath through our teeth at the thought.

“What do your brothers do now?” Sydney asks.

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