Page 9 of One Night

I wasn’t currently living much of a life at all. Grueling days of prepping the fields, managing the migrant workers, and filling orders and contracts ate up every spare minute of my time.

My phone buzzed, and I glanced down just briefly enough to see the nameDaryl Hallflash across the screen.

My mouth twitched at the corner. “Okay. Fine.”

The only other reason I ever took a few minutes out of my day every morning was the quickgood morningtext and chat with Sylvie. It still boggled my mind how we had somehow slipped into such an easy friendship. She was thoughtful and funny and kind—not at all the aloof ice princess I had thought her to be.

Hell, I think most people saw her that way, and a sick part of me loved that there was a piece of her reserved only for me.

I quickly flipped my phone upside down, but Wyatt caught the guilty flicker in my eyes before I could suppress it.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

I scoffed in dismissal. “No one.”

“Bullshit.” Wyatt smirked. “We all know you’re a terrible liar.”

Which is exactly why I can never tell a soul about my friendship with Sylvie King.

Wyatt crossed his arms and looked down at me. I worked to keep my expression calm despite my heart hammering behind my ribs.

“She a tourist?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

I only glared at him.

“Oh shit, she’s a townie!” Wyatt laughed and clapped his hands.

Annoyed, I stood, swiping my coffee mug off the side table hard enough for it to splash over the rim. I had him beat in height, but only by a half inch or so. Still, I was just petty enough to use it to my advantage. “It’s nothing.”

He narrowed his eyes, and his mouth hooked into a smirk. “If you say so, man.”

When I turned to walk back into my house and dump my cold coffee, mood soured, Wyatt stopped me. “Hey, I’m serious about going out tonight.”

With my back to him, I sighed, and my shoulder slumped.

“We miss you.” His words brought a fresh ache to my chest. “You’re getting out of this house, and we’re going out tonight. One beer. That’s all I’m asking for.”

He wasn’t asking for much. Just two brothers spending time together. Years ago I had wished for that exact thing, but I’d convinced myself that our family was too broken to ever have that. Now he was offering it to me on a silver fucking platter, and I was being a dick about it.

Over my shoulder I nodded.

“Yeah? All right.” Laughter laced through his words as he bounded down the stairs back toward his car. “I’ll pick you up—that way you can’t Houdini on us. Be ready at eight.”

I offered my brother a halfhearted salute, knowing I would have to spend the better part of the day thinking of an excuse tobring my own truck so that I could fulfill my one-beer obligation and make my silent exit, like I normally did.

Inside, I dumped the cold coffee and glanced at the clock. Wyatt’s impromptu visit had interrupted my morning routine, and I wasn’t happy about it.

Hurrying, I picked up my phone and unlocked it.

Daryl Hall

Morning.

Along with hergood morningtext was a picture of Sylvie dressed in tight running gear. With sunglasses perched on her nose, her face scrunched up, and her flashing a peace sign. A riot of oranges, pinks, and deep plum swirled over her shoulder as the summer sun rose behind her.

She was so stunning it stole my breath.

Sylvie didn’t often send pictures, but when she did, I saved every single one. I would venture a guess she would stop sending them if she knew they had become my only spank bank material in the last eight months.

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