Page 115 of Filthy Twisted Devil

Brinley’s talking to the Locke brothers, not Eden. If Eden was there, I know she’d be defending my honor, telling her brothers to go to hell.

“Maybe it was fake at the beginning, but it’s not anymore. It hasn’t been for a long damn time.” Brinley’s voice is steady and fierce in a way I’ve only heard from her once before, in the hospital room when Maura almost died.

“But—” someone starts, but Brinley’s not hearing it.

“Listen. I know what it costs to hide a relationship. I know what it costs to choose love when everyone around you is telling you it’s the wrong call. I know because I did it—with Beau, for years, in secret, because we were scared of how Luke would take it. And it nearly destroyed me.”

She makes them all sit with that. Nobody speaks until Brinley continues.

“Living a lie when you’re in love—it hurts. It fucking hurts. The only reason I survived it was because the people who loved me eventually chose to believe me. I’m asking you three to do the same for Eden.”

Except she’s not asking. She’s telling, in that righteous, furious way she does when she really believes something. My throat burns with unspoken words. I’m knocked back with gratitude for my little sister.

“You sure do know how to talk, Brinley,” Reed says after a moment. “You’ve given us a lot to think about.”

“That’s all I ask,” Brinley says. Maybe they don’t hear the subtext under those words, but I do: You better come out of thinking on my side, or else.

The world tilts under me. I actually have to put a hand on the porch railing to steady myself, and for a disoriented second, I wonder if I got heatstroke from hauling logs in the sun. But it’s not that, I realize. It’s relief. It’s joy. It’s the simple, staggering fact that my sister just handed me the thing I’ve wanted for eight months and was too afraid to take.

If Brinley approves, then I can have Eden. I can love her, and she can love me.

The door opens and Brinley walks out onto the porch. When she sees me there, pathetic and sweaty and grinning, she shakes her head.

“Eavesdropper. You’re shameless.”

“Thank you,” I say. I’ve never meant two words more in my life.

She tilts her head, considering me a moment. Then she nods. “You’re welcome. What’s family for?”

I stride forward, arms open for a hug. Brinley holds her arms up in an X over her chest, stepping back.

“No hugging!” she squeals. “Look at your shirt. You’re disgusting.”

I look down at what was once a white T-shirt. Now, it’s brown with dirt, sweat, and bits of bark. I probably don’t smell amazing, either. I laugh—my first real laugh in days. “Right. I should probably shower.”

Brinley wrinkles her nose. “You should probably shower twice. You’re going to scare away your girlfriend.”

She walks away across the yard. I just stand by the porch grinning like an idiot, smelling like a junkyard, and feeling like the luckiest man alive.

50

EDEN

Day of The Wedding

Istride quickly from the barn over to the catering trucks, holding my maid of honor skirt up as I walk. It was hemmed to go with the heels I’ll wear later, during the ceremony. Now, with the wedding ceremony starting in three hours, I need to be in flats.

“Hey, Miranda!” I shout to the chef as I reach the door. “You got everything you need?”

“We’re good with the food, but I hear one of the servers was a no-show,” she says as she moves a tray of chicken into the portable oven.

I swear under my breath. “Okay. I’ll check with the head of service, but I’m hoping that you’re wrong.”

“Hate to tell you, but I’m never wrong.”

That sends me rushing back to the shed behind the barn, where the servers have been gathering. The lead, Johnny, whistles at me.

“Eden, you look like a million bucks!” he says. “What can I do for you?”