Page 83 of Peaches

I tsk. “How’d that turn out?”

He rolls his eyes.

“Rhett,” I say, stepping down from the stool and toward him, reaching my hands out to take his. “Promise me. Never again.”

He leans down low, resting his forehead on the top of mine. “Never,” he whispers.

“Thisis what it takes,” I tell him. “Communication. Good and bad. No kid gloves, no secrets.”

He nods. “I promise.” He presses a kiss to my temple. Pulls me in close. “I have a lot of making up to do.”

I smile. “That sounds fun.”

He steels himself, looking down at me with a reverence that makes me feel raw. “I’ve never begged for anything in my life, Olivia, but I’mbeggingfor you. It’s scary for me to admit I have so much hope after everything. But I feel it with you—you make mehopewith my whole fucking chest.”

I smile, leaning up into his mouth. “If you ever put yourself in danger like that again, I’m going to make you hurt for it, Rhett. Don’t steal my heart just to break it.”

He rumbles in agreement with a quiet “Yes ma’am,” and a steep longing pierces into me as he finally captures my mouth with his.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE

RHETT

Late morning light bends through the trees, sparks of gold slicing through the sky over the pasture. The grass still smells like it does at night, like cold dew and soft earth readying for spring. Despite everything falling apart around me, I still feel hope for the day ahead.

It’s a curse I think, after all these damn years, to feel so much damn hope. To want better for my family, to feel something good is always just ahead. Maybe I’m a stupid man to want such things, but after generations of fighting against ourselves and the rest of the world for this land, it’s about damn time for a little reprieve. Especially now.

Brooks still hasn’t come out of his cabin, but Melody’s funeral is today and we’d never let him miss it. Mom’s been the only one to see him since he holed himself up in the one place he can be surrounded by his late wife—the home they shared for the entirety of their marriage. She moved in with him only months after their first date, a fast and furious love that, for the longest time, the rest of my brothers and I thought would eventually fizzle and fade. They were so young, Brooks not at all the man he is today, and I remember thinking how wild it was to see him fall so fast for a girl he’d barely known.

But they both must have felt their love for each other deep in their souls, because after all these years and through all our family’s struggles, that love never faltered.

Kasey and I head up the dirt path that leads to Brooks’s front door, and I can’t help but let my gaze trail over all the traces of Melody: the colorful flowers sprouting up through the soil again along the outside of their porch, matching ones that are painted along the beams that run from the porch to the roof so even in winter, the flowers still bloom. There’s a worn pair of women’s boots tucked against the wall beside the door with bright red roses embroidered into them. Melody was such a vibrant woman who brought endless color into Brooks’s life, so much love and warmth that it must have felt like finally knowing what it is to have ahomein someone.

Olivia feels like that for me.

My want for her smolders like a constant fever. I can’t escape it, can’t fuckingthinkthrough it, and the truth is that even after our conversation, I’m still terrified.

Terrified of loving something I stand to lose.

Terrified she mightactuallylove me back, knowing I’m not half the man she believes me to be.

It still makes me panic to think of all the ways I could let her down. But she’s right: having her is worth all the risks. And as long as I have her, I’ll do everything I can to be a better man. I’ve always stood so proud in my own ego, believing everything I do—as disastrous as my actions can be—serves a purpose for my family. But I’m starting to understand I’ve caused a lot of hurt for them over the years, and I don’t want to keep doing that.

Kasey climbs up the front steps before me and raps on the door with firm knuckles. The funeral is in an hour, and everyone else back at the main house is almost ready. Wells and Layla helped get the boys in suits and all of us have talked at length with them about what to expect today so they don’t feel nervous or scared about any of it. Sawyer even flew home from school late last night to be here.

Now we just need to make sure Brooks makes it out this door. His sons haven’t seen him in days, and I know he’s needed space to let the violent waves of grief flow through him, but the boys are starting to worry. They need their father, now more than ever, to help set the tone for what the rest of their lives are going to look like without their mother.

Pain spears through me at the thought.

The door opens and Kasey lets out a surprised breath at what we find on the other side. Brooks stares at us in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair dripping water along his shoulders and chest. His neck and cheeks are flushed from the heat of his recent shower.

“Hey,” he says, his voice strained and cracking over the word, like he’s been yelling. Or sobbing.

“Brooks,” Kasey answers, placing a hand on our oldest brother’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you. Are you okay?”

Of course he’s not. But I look to Brooks anyway, a twinge of hope sprouting that he’s up. We fully expected to find him prone and disheveled, to have to fight him to do this today. But, other than the dark patches beneath them, his eyes look clear and focused. He shrugs like he’s a little kid again, like he’s not sure what to say. “I can’t find a jacket,” he says low.

Kasey squeezes his shoulder. “Don’t worry about that—we’ve got one for you.”

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