Page 66 of Peaches

And dammit if it doesn’t almost break me. “I know, Liam. And it’s not fair. None of this is fair. It’s going to be one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to go through, but youwillget through it. And you’ll help your brothers through it too, because you’re an amazing kid. But you don’t have to do any of it alone, okay?”

He pushes away to look at me, his eyes red-rimmed with the tears still spilling over. He’s got his mother’s eyes, her sun-streaked hair. But it’s Brooks’s fire in his heart. “Will my dad get through it?”

My chest squeezes. “Your dad just lost the love of his life. It’s going to take him a while . . . but he’ll get through it. Your uncles and I will all help him—it’s what brothers do.”

He nods, wiping his nose on his sleeve. And then he grabs the plate on the table and brings it to the other side where he sits back down and eats.

I stand, rustling my hand through his hair, and head for the door.

We decided to close Wild Coyote for at least the week—none of us have the heart to leave the ranch, especially not to face potential questions from people in town. Melody didn’t grow up in Saddlebrook Falls, and I’m not sure if any of them know much about her other than she’s Brooks’s wife and the mother of his children—that she’s a Bennett like the rest of us.

Orwas. . .

Fuck.

But it’s only a matter of time before someone with a connection to the hospital finds out that she’s gone. And we sure as shit aren’t ready to deal with the way the news of her death will undoubtedly spread through town like wildfire.

Still, closing down the bar is going to hurt financially, and we’re already hurting pretty damn bad. I’ve never cared enough about the business side of things to have a good grasp on the books, but Kasey says money’s tighter than he’s ever seen it, and I know that’s saying something. Now we have a funeral to plan on top of all the medical bills, and we still need to find a lawyer who can help us navigate Huck’s potential threat to the ranch—a threat that’s more prominent now that Brooks might’ve lost his legal claim, hisbirthright, to the land.

It feels like a stone’s lodged itself in my throat when I think of the call I made two nights ago, after Melody died. When I think of what I have to do tomorrow, the risks I have to take.

But even worse is what I have to do tonight.

* * *

Guilt ripsthrough me when I finally text Olivia and ask if I can see her. There are at least half a dozen messages she’s sent that have gone unanswered over the last couple of days, and based on that and the calls I’ve avoided, I know she’s worried. And I know I’m the worst kind of asshole for staying quiet.

But the truth is, my need for Olivia has become a sentient, all-consuming beast that I’m not sure will ever be sated. The more I’ve given into the temptation to push things further with her, the more this need pounds through me and rattles my very bones. Despite everything going on around me, my mind finds solace in thoughts of her. I lie awake at night and think of nothing but her skin, so soft and warm and opposite of everything I am. I think of her eyes, the depths of green and gold that I could get lost in for eternity, an endless pasture of my deepest desires.

I know with my whole stupid heart that I don’t deserve her, that just like everything else in my life, this will end in a monumental catastrophe. Especially now, when I have nothing to give her and no room for distractions. Butfuck—I haven’t had it in me to soften the blow. I haven’t had the capacity to pull away from her because she’s . . . she’s so damn sweet and addicting.

But I have to. I care about her more than I thought I even could, which means I need to cut her loose.

I’m sorry for disappearing the other night, I type into my phone as I walk toward my cabin, fingers shaking with the weight of what’s coming.We need to talk. Can I see you tonight?

Her response comes in mere seconds.I’m off around seven.

I’ll pick you up then.

My thoughts begin to spiral as I think of Brooks and everything he’s experiencing. I think of myself in his shoes, what it would be like to watch Olivia slowly wither away into nothing, whether from something like cancer or from the inevitable chaos of being with someone like me.

I think of what it’s going to feel like to lose her—to lose her so I can save her.

I pull my bike into the café’s lot right at seven, my mind tumbling when I see her already waiting on the curb. She’s wearing a green cotton dress beneath a brown jacket, her strawberry hair spread around her shoulders. And if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man.

I hold the second helmet out for her and she takes it, slipping it over her head and buckling the straps herself before she climbs onto the back of the bike. She doesn’t hold me as tightly around the middle, doesn’t laugh with the rush of the speed on the highway, and I realize my silence since leaving her the other night has done more damage than I’d anticipated.

Good, I think. This will be easier if she’s mad at me. And lord knows I deserve it.

I take her to the water tower, where we’d traded secrets over burgers not too long ago. It’s probably too cold to climb up there this late, but it’s quiet amongst the trees and far enough away from everything that I know we’ll have privacy. I can’t bring her to the ranch right now, and I sure as hell don’t want to hurt her in her own house.

I park along the fence line and cut the engine. Olivia is quick to jump off the bike, strutting away from me as she works to wrangle her helmet off. I pull mine off and set it on the tank before standing to wait for her.

Once her helmet’s off, she whirls back around. “You fucking disappeared,” she says.

Oh yeah, she’s mad.

“Melody died,” I say quietly.

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