“Maybe that’s because I’m the only one here in Cottonwood Cove. This bubble is going to pop, and the real world is going to be waiting for you.”
“Do you think I’m that guy? I’ve never cheated at anything in my life. I don’t take shortcuts. If this isn’t working, I’d have enough respect for you to talk to you about it first. I’d expect the same in return. I keep my circle small because I like it that way. But I’m loyal to the people that I love, and I think you know that deep down. Hell, I think you’re drawn to it. We’re similar that way.”
I nodded. He was right. I was the same way. I kept my circle small, and I was fiercely protective of the people that I loved, as well.
“I agree. But temptation will be there. The press will be hounding you again. Our lives won’t be private any longer.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy, but it’ll be worth it. And if you end up in San Francisco, I’ll fly out to see you or fly you out to see me as much as we can. I’ve got access to planes, and we’ll make it work. People do it all the time.”
I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.
That we’d both been completely honest about how we felt.
It was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.
“So, we’re doing this?”
“I’d say we don’t have a choice at this point. There’s no turning back now. I’m too far gone,” he said, and he wrapped his arms tighter around me.
He was right.
We were both too far gone.
“You are such a traitor. You’ve only known him for a few months, and you’re cheering for him over your own sister?”
“Correct,” Cage said dryly, and everyone laughed.
We’d come to Maddox and Georgia’s house because Hugh and Lila had met their wedding planner over here to discuss the final details for their wedding, and we’d stopped by to see everyone. Cage and Gracie were out running errands, so they’d stopped by, as well. Finn was doing the final scenes for Big Sky Ranch, and he’d been working a lot lately.
Of course, once we’d shown up, that led to Georgia insisting we play pickleball. Let’s just say that Lincoln Hendrix may be amazing with a football, but I did play volleyball for a long time. And with my sister being oddly talented at the sport of pickleball, she’d taught me a thing or two.
He and I had gone at it for the last hour, and he’d managed to edge me out, all with the annoying cheering from my oldest brother.
“I cheers for Auntie Brinks and Links!” Gracie shouted.
“He is the best football player out there, so don’t take the loss too hard,” Hugh said, placing an arm around my shoulder.
“It’s fine.” I rolled my eyes and handed my racket to my sister before glaring at Cage. “You best sleep with one eye open.”
“Hey, remember that I played you first, and you gloated about beating me. Linc doesn’t gloat.”
“Please. He gloats so much he does it in his sleep!” I threw my hands in the air.
“Only when I have reason to gloat in my sleep, sweetheart.”
Cage and Hugh high-fived him, and I punched him in the shoulder.
“We’re leaving. I need to go check on the garden.”
My brothers both laughed because they found it hilarious that I was so invested.
“You should see it,” Lincoln said as he reached for my hand. “It’s taken off.”
Maddox and Georgia smirked at one another because they knew he’d been the reason it was currently a garden that could hold its own on any home and garden show. “She’s got a green thumb.”
Normally, I would call him out for covering for me, but I was annoyed with Cage, so I let this one go.
We said our goodbyes and drove to my house. We spent very little time there because, with Lincoln having a place on the water, along with an amazing home gym, it was the obvious choice most days.
But the garden was my thing. And yes, he’d had a watering system put in, so I didn’t need to be out there with the hose every day. But I liked to go choose some items from the garden that we could use for dinner or for breakfast the next day.
There was something very satisfying about growing the food that you ate.
When we pulled in front of my house, we both stared at the tall guy sitting on my front steps.
“Who the fuck is that?” Lincoln grumped.
“I don’t know. But let’s greet him a bit friendlier than that.”
I got out of the car, which earned me an eye roll from my boyfriend, who had hurried around to open my door.
“It’s not a goddamn race,” he said under his breath as he pinned me to the car. “But I do need to get you alone.”
“Did you forget that we have a stranger waiting for us a few feet away?” I said with a laugh.
He pulled back, and I patted my hair into place and walked toward the house. Our unknown visitor was standing up now, and the closer we got, the clearer it was that he was strikingly good-looking. He was tall, close in height to Lincoln, with broad shoulders and wavy brown hair, and he appeared to be in his early twenties, if not younger.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Lincoln.” He studied the man beside me, but not the way someone having a true fan moment would. This was different.
“Do I know you?” Lincoln asked. “Who the fuck were you expecting?”
I turned to look at Lincoln. The man was such a hothead when it came to people he didn’t know. “Turn it down a notch, Captain.”
“Are you Brinkley Reynolds?” the guy asked.
Lincoln stepped in front of me, wrapping his fingers around my wrist to keep me behind him. “Are you a fucking reporter?”
“Do I look like a fucking reporter?” The guy raised a brow with the same bad attitude as my boyfriend.
“I’m going to ask you one last time. Who. The. Fuck. Are. You?”
I stepped out of Lincoln’s grip to stand beside him.
The guy crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m Romeo Knight. I’m fairly certain that you’re my brother.”
Lincoln’s shoulders stiffened, and his jaw strained when I glanced up to look at him.
“Your last name is Knight? Who’s your father?” That was all Lincoln asked.
“Keith Knight.” He continued to stare at Lincoln, and you could cut the tension with a knife.
I stepped forward, desperate to lighten things up. “Hi, Romeo. I’m Brinkley Reynolds. How’d you find my house?”
He went on to explain how he’d recently learned that he had a brother. He’d tried messaging a few times on social media. When my article came out, he’d learned that I was writing a story about Lincoln and interviewing him while he trained. So, he’d researched me and found out where I lived. He assumed he’d have better luck finding a reporter than a football star who lived a very private life.
“Her address is not listed on a public site.” Lincoln was really hung up on the fact that Romeo had found my house, and he had yet to acknowledge that this was potentially his brother.
“I stopped at the Cottonwood Café, and the girl behind the counter told me where I could find your house.” He had an edge to him, very similar to the disposition of the man beside me. Between the attitude, the striking looks, and the height, that was as far as the similarities ran. Romeo was tan, with dark eyes and darker hair.