Page 9 of Moonlit Temptation

“So confident in his affections for you.”

“We all know I’m your dad’s favorite.” He grinned, cocky bastard.

“A mystery to us all.”

Saint shrugged, unbothered by it.

He stopped questioning my father’s affections around the same time his father was arrested and our town turned against him.

It was odd that my dad, who was captain of the Perfect Image Committee, didn’t cast Saint out like the rest of the town. Especially because if I so much as sneezed at the wrong time, I’d be subjected to a twenty-minute lecture on how disrespectful I was. Maybe it was because Saint wasn’t his child, but a member of his beloved town. Maybe it was because Mrs. Delacore was my mom’s best friend.

The reason didn’t matter. At least, not to me.

Once the news broke that Mr. Delacore had been arrested in a Ponzi scheme that scammed rich families all over Georgia, including almost everyone in our town, out of hundreds of thousands of dollars, the people of Honeycutt all but burned Saint’s seized home to the ground.

I remember sitting on the couch with Archer, our sister Jessa watching from over our shoulders, as they raided the Delacore mansion. Seeing Mr. Delacore being escorted out in handcuffs had me squeezing Archer’s hand as he furiously texted Saint with the other while Jessa gripped my shoulders in a death grip.

All of us worried what this meant for Saint and his mom, knowing how unkind our town and father could be. But Dad didn’t turn Saint away, like we feared.

Instead, to our shock and mostly delight, he stepped in to help Saint and his mom in any way he could. And while the support of the mayor wasn’t enough to sway public opinion, too much money gone and goodwill sacrificed, at least the Delacores weren’t alone.

They had us.

Saint practically moved into our house as a teenager, attached to Archer’s hip.

Though the two friends were far from similar.

My brother was the jock, the popular kid with a smile that could win a school’s presidency, while Saint was the troublemaker with a fierce scowl, the one who wore band t-shirts and ripped black jeans while sulking in the corner with a tattered paperback in hand.

They were opposites in attitudes, but no one fiercer in their loyalties than Saint and no one more possessive of those he cared about than Archer.

“So you were here on business, how’d that go?” I asked.

A dark look crossed Saint’s face for a moment, but then I blinked and it was gone.

Must’ve been the candlelight.

“It went fine. But I’ll be happy when I’m back in the office.”

“Miss your baby?” I teased.

“You have no idea.” He took a sip of wine. “I get so anxious when I’m away, just imagining how the fuckers I put in charge in my absence are screwing everything up.”

Saint and Archer were business partners for a rapidly growing tech company. So rapid that my brother was moving to Seattle next month to head their new office there.

“I’m sure you’ll strike the fear in the slackers when you get back.”

“That’s the plan.” His fingers drummed on the table.

Saint was such an angry teenager after his father’s arrest, lost and searching for a purpose. He rained hellfire on the town that so cruelly turned against him.

At eighteen, he went away to the university in this very city, where he learned to channel his anger into determination and resistance.

With the help of my brother, they were able to come up with the company, and with the backing of my father, they were able to get it off the ground.

It took off from there. And Saint hadn’t stopped to breathe since, determined to earn everything he had. To not be his father.

We were two people with daddy issues. Coping with them in different ways.

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