Chapter 27
SYDNEY
All four Darby brothers clearly hit every branch in their extremely attractive family tree on their way down. While only one of them is referred to as a heartthrob by the media, all four look the part.
Cy’s brothers are loud, flirtatious, and just as attractive as he is.
It made for a very warm welcome to a part of the country I’d never seen.
We arrived just as Cy’s three brothers and Dad showed up, a chaotic mass of people, equipment, and suitcases that Rachel, the Darby matriarch, took charge of right away.
The twins—Rio and Brooks—look so much like Cy that if they’d told me they were triplets, I would have believed them.
Their dark hair and eyes are the exact shade of Cy’s.
They look like their Dad. Rio is charismatic like Cy, while Brooks is quieter.
From what I can tell, he seems content to have his twin take the lead while he sits back, watching, studying.
Having eyes so much like Cy’s watch me so intently is disconcerting. What does Brooks see when he looks at me?
Rio has no filter. Just like Cy—and like me as well, I guess—I don’t have to guess what he’s thinking. He says it exactly like it is.
“Tell me what exactly attracts you to my older brother. Were you a Boys Next Door fan?” he asks.
I choke on my lemonade.
“God, Rio, are you trying to kill the poor girl?” Cash pats me on the back, then drapes an arm around my shoulder and shoots a finger gun at the camera across from us.
“That would be your cologne, baby brother. You do realize that Axe is for middle schoolers and should be used sparingly, right?” Rio jabs back, holding out a hand for a high five from his twin.
Cash pouts for a second but moves on quickly. The “baby” of the family is the most audacious of the bunch. He’s like a younger Cy. The Cy I crushed on until that fateful day.
“You know, Syd, I’ve always had a thing for redheads,” he says.
I huff a laugh. Little does he know how red my hair used to be.
“I’m not really a redhead anymore,” I tease, poking him in the ribs.
He doesn’t move his arm but gives as good as he gets.
“I won’t hold that against you,” he promises.
“What are you? Twelve? You’re so cute.” I push his arm off.
An instant later, a flannel-covered arm is wrapped around his neck and he’s yanked away from me.
“Bruh. You hitting on my girl?” The delicious way Cy’s lips wrap around the phrase my girl sends awareness directly to my core.
As does the banked fire in his eyes when they lock on me. The heat there is enough to incinerate my panties. Ones I’m actually wearing because it felt weird to meet Cy’s family in my normal commando state.
“Cy.” Cash turns in his brother’s arms, wrapping him in a bear hug.
One by one, he embraces his brothers. When he stands next to Brooks and Rio, my observation about their likeness is confirmed. The resemblance is uncanny. Cash is the only one who looks like their mom, with lighter hair and blue eyes.
And a twinkle there that bodes nothing but trouble.
“Ladies.” Cy nods to Jade, Josie, and me. “I see you’ve met my brothers. Rio and Brooks are twins, if it wasn’t obvious enough, and Cash is the baby.”
“I’m twenty-one,” he adds.
Cy ruffles his hair. “Like I said—the baby.”
“Boys, quit bugging your brother and his…friends.” Cy’s mom Rachel steps into the room, an apron tied around her waist. She winces, like she’s not sure how to address the three women dating her oldest son.
“Why don’t you head to your place and get washed up for dinner?
Cyrus, show your guests to their rooms, please.
I’m sure they’d like the chance to freshen up. ”
Cash, Rio, and Brooks grumble, but all three leave the room quickly, and a few beats later, a thud from the entryway echoes through the living room.
“Ladies. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you upstairs.” Cy turns from us to one of the sound guys. “John, can you grab that last suitcase?”
The four of us follow him up the solid wood staircase. John drops off Josie’s suitcase in the room at the top of the stairs and Jade takes the room across from hers.
I follow Cy down the hallway to the next set of doors and follow him into one.
“Oh.” The word comes out as a breath as I step over the threshold. The room is a warm wash of yellows and creams with splashes of a blue that match the color of the sky outside.
It’s peaceful. Like walking into a hug.
“You like it?” Cy asks, leaning against the doorjamb.
I pad farther into the space, brushing my fingers over the soft cover on the bed, then stepping up to the window that overlooks the rolling green hills and a white barn.
“Mmm. Your brothers don’t live here?” I ask, turning away from the window but keeping my distance from the attractive man who’s watching me so intently.
Closing the distance would only amplify the need to kiss him. Something I’d rather not be caught doing.
“They live in a small cabin on the other side of the barn.” He nods at the large white structure outside the window. “My great-great-grandpa built it when he purchased the land. When he got married, he built this place for my great-great-grandma Mary and all the kids they talked about having.”
“Did they have all those kids?”
His lips twitch, his eyes warming. He seems so much more relaxed today than he has in the last several weeks.
Is it this place?
“They did. Three girls and two boys who filled the rest of the rooms.” He straightens from the doorjamb and takes two steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my heart rate speeding up.
“Did you have a nice flight?” he asks, taking another step closer.
My breathing goes shallow. “Is that really what you want to ask me?” I tease.
An actual smirk kicks up one corner of his lips. “What do you think of my state?”
The words are casual, but the way he studies me is anything but. He’s close enough that I can smell his cologne, the warm scent teasing my nostrils, the air between us charging.
Words escape me. I want to tell him how much I like being here. How I wasn’t sure I would. I’m a city girl at heart, but since we arrived, I feel like I can breathe for the first time since Katie died. The pain I carry is no longer sharp enough to rip me apart constantly.
“Cy.” I press my palm to his heart, relishing the way it thunders under his chest.
“Again, BB,” he tells me, tugging me flush against him.
“What?” Any rational thought in my head flees as his warmth soaks into me.
“My name. Say it again.” He clutches my hair, wrapping it around his fist at my nape.
“How about that magic word?” I can’t help it. I like pushing his buttons too much to just give in. No matter how badly I want to.
He tightens his hold on my hair, adding a slight pressure to my head that sends electricity shooting directly to my pussy.
How does he do that?
“Fuck. Your mouth is something else,” he groans, his lips inches from mine.
“You could always find a way to occupy it.”
He lowers his head, but not all the way. Instead, he pauses, lips an inch from mine, waiting.
“What are you waiting for?” I murmur.
“You’re still talking.”
I can’t help myself. This banter is the most delicious form of foreplay I’ve ever experienced.
“Maybe you should do something about that.” I lay the challenge at his feet.
That fire in his eyes flares. “How about I kiss you so hard and so long that you forget your own name?”
My breath stalls in my lungs. I’m officially out of quips.
He closes the distance, capturing my exhale and the whimper that accompanies it as the spark reignites between us.
“Dinner.”
We jump apart at the sound of Cy’s mom’s voice echoing up the stairs.
“I should go.” Despite the declaration, he doesn’t move.
“You should.”
“What is it about you that makes me forget everything else?” he asks, finally shifting toward the door.
“I don’t know.”
But he’s right. The rest of the world ceases to exist when I’m with him.
He turns, and with his hand on the knob, he looks back at me. The desire still written on his face echoes that which is overwhelming me right now.
He slips out the door, closing it behind him quietly.
“But I feel it too,” I tell the empty room.
I’m in love.
He may be old enough to be my grandpa, but Cliff Darby is the perfect man. He has a contagious laugh and he uses it often as he relays stories about the shenanigans his oldest grandson used to get up to while he flips through pictures in an album.
Cliff didn’t show up until dinner, and he remained a quiet presence during a loud, boisterous meal around the large farmhouse table in the Darbys’ dining room.
After dinner, he invited Jade and me to the living room to look at pictures.
Jade declined, heading upstairs, claiming she was tired from traveling.
Is she? Or is she Scarlett, and she’s looking for privacy to plan her next appearance?
I’m not one hundred percent convinced that Kendall is Scarlett. While she seems to be the most hot-headed of the subjects we’re looking into, I won’t stop digging into Jade until I know her real story.
That’s what I should be doing right now, in fact. But when Cy’s grandpa invited me to look at family pictures, I couldn’t say no.
It has nothing to do with keeping an eye on the door, waiting for Cy and Josie to return.
He took her on a walk to show her the barn after dinner.
“When was this taken?” I ask, pointing to a picture of a little Cy in a pair of dark jeans, a cowboy hat, and shiny boots.
At his side is an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair wearing an old-fashioned denim skirt and floral peasant blouse.
“Cy was four, I think. We were at the county fair. My wife, Sara.” He smooths one gnarled finger over the protective plastic covering the photo, tracing her image.
The love in that simple gesture creates an ache in my chest.
“They look very happy,” I tell him.
He nods “Cy and Sara were close. He was constantly taking care of her. Wouldn’t let the rest of us do anything for her.
If a door needed to be opened or a chair needed to be pulled out for her, that was his job.
And she thought he hung the moon. Even when we’d catch him out on his pony in nothing but his cowboy boots and underwear.
Drove his dad crazy. Grandparents’ curse,” he says with a laugh.
I giggle.
“Someday I hope you have a handful of kids, and I hope they’re just like you. I’m sure your parents have told you the same thing,” he says, mustache twitching in amusement.
I shake my head. “No.”
How would I have responded if Dad had said something like that? God, I miss him. Once this is over, I owe him a long visit and an apology.
“You were an angel, darlin’, weren’t you?”
I laugh. “My dad would beg to differ.”
He smiles, the lines on his face creasing deeply. “I’m sure you’re giving my grandson a run for his money.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment. And I’d like to think so.” Warmth fills me, overshadowing the prick of guilt. I’m not in a relationship with his grandson. Not really.
I wish I was.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where did that come from?
I shift on the couch as I process the flurry of emotions—the feelings I’m developing for Cy, as well as the joy overwhelming me in this moment. Every piece of the puzzle I’m putting together leads to the realization that I really do wish this was real.
If I was smart, I’d get up and head for my room and make a call to Sawyer, insisting he replace me on this case.
I am smart. It’s what logic is screaming at me to do.
But I’m also stubborn.
If I’m removed from this case, my dream of the cyber security arm for SAFE Haven will die.
So I stay on the couch, falling a little more for the man I should hate.
And the octogenarian telling me all the stories of his youth.