Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
G annon
“Twilight golf is my favorite these days,” Jason says, sliding his putter back into his bag. “It’s cooler. Less busy. No pressure to complete the whole course.”
“Be honest. What you really like about it is a lack of competition.”
He slides into the passenger’s seat of the golf cart. “I have no problem with a little competition. I’m here competing with you, aren’t I?”
“I hardly think you’re my competition. But it’s cute that you think so.”
He chuckles as I hit the gas, and we lurch forward to the next hole.
The sun hangs above the trees like it doesn’t want to call it quits on such a nice day. A gentle breeze blows lazily across the course, and the sky is awash in an array of muted colors. After a chaotic day in the office, spending time out here is the best way to relax.
Well, the second-best way to relax. The first isn’t available.
“I could even come multiple times if that’s what you wanted.”
I withhold a groan and casually adjust my cock, hoping Jason is too preoccupied with his phone to notice.
It’s perplexing, really, that I’m struggling this much with having Carys around. At the end of the day, she’s just another woman, and God knows I’ve had attractive women around me all my life. My friends-with-benefits. My brothers’ girlfriends. Hell, Mom’s friends were even hot—some of them still are nice to look at. But Carys? She’s a problem that exceeds a fuckable body and willing spirit.
I’m having one hell of a time solving this riddle. And I have no one to blame for it but myself.
“Do you remember the summer Dad signed me, you, and Renn up for golf lessons, and Renn wound up wrecking the golf cart in a water hazard?” Jason asks.
“Yeah.”
“How old were we?”
“I was sixteen,” I say. “That would put you fourteen and Renn eleven or twelve, I guess.”
“Wow. You just spat those numbers out.”
A smirk twists my lips.
“What?” Jason asks, his brows wrinkled. “What’s that look about?”
I chuckle as we pull to a stop by the next tee. “The pro working at the club that summer had a daughter in college.” I pause. “Can’t remember her name. But I can tell you what her pussy felt like.”
Jason shakes his head and climbs out of the cart.
“I told her I was eighteen,” I say, getting out, too. “We got a lot of use out of the halfway hut. I’ll leave it at that.”
“Should’ve known.”
“Yes, you should’ve.”
He tosses me a little grin as he slides a driver out of his bag.
“What brought up that memory?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about the past a lot lately.”
He sets himself up and smashes the ball. It arches through the air well, although slightly off target. It’s a typical Jason shot, but I keep that to myself.
“Not bad,” I say as I prepare for my turn.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you ever think about the past?” he asks.
I place my ball on the tee. “I think about how I golfed last week alone, and it was blissfully quiet.”
He laughs. “You’re such an asshole.”
Ball off my front foot. Knees loose. Feet parallel to the target line. I adjust my grip on the club and tilt my shoulders—then drive through the ball.
It sails through the air beautifully toward the hole.
“And that’s how it’s done,” I say, heading back to the cart.
“Mom told me you said I should get her a frequent flier program.”
“You should just give her a jet for Christmas. Then she could be responsible for the maintenance and scheduling.”
“I should.” He chuckles as we climb back into our ride. “I have to admit, though, that I like seeing her so happy. She deserves it.”
“She keeps giving me shit about it.”
“About what?”
I turn the key and press the gas. “About … being happy ,” I say, curling my lip. “She thinks that the only way to live your life is to travel around the world. She seems to forget that some of us have to stay behind and keep the funds coming in.”
“That’s a bullshit excuse.”
I give him a pointed look.
Out of all my siblings, I like Jason best. He’s serious and straightforward. Smart. He doesn’t love mindless chatter … usually. He was also the one I was closest to growing up, and we share the most memories.
“Ever wonder what it’s like at the bottom of a water hazard?” I ask. “Because you might find out if you don’t watch yourself.”
His laugh is quick and loud, and the sound of it makes me grin.
“All I’m saying is that given the utter shit show that our family has endured, I have a different perspective on life,” he says.
“One that I’m sure Ripley would love to hear.”
“You can’t tell me that you haven’t changed over the past couple of years.”
I pull up to our balls and stop. Jason is watching me intently. There’s no getting around this without satisfying him to some degree.
Make sure I hide my tee times on my calendar going forward.
I sit back and sigh. “I don’t think you can watch your father try to kill your mother and sister while destroying everything your family has ever worked for and come out unscathed.”
“Bianca and I were talking about it the other day—about how things are different but in a good way.”
“That’s a great conversation to have with Bianca.”
Our phones buzz at the same time. We glance at each other curiously as we pull our devices from our pockets.
Mom: She’s here! Please meet your beautiful niece, Emery Jane Carmichael.
“Bianca had her baby,” Jason says as a picture loads in the group chat. “What a cutie.”
In the photograph, our sister beams while holding a baby wrapped in a light pink blanket. Emery has a head full of dark hair and a button nose like her mother. She’s also alert as if she’s afraid to miss a thing just like her father.
The picture pulls at a place in my heart that I try to keep unbothered.
Ripley: She’s so pretty.
Jason: Tell B we said congratulations and can’t wait to meet her.
Renn: Welcome to the family, Em!
Tate: Renn, does this mean we don’t have to go meet the rugby guys this weekend? We should really go to see our new niece instead.
Me: Tate, try not to make this about you.
Jason laughs next to me.
Mom: Bianca asks that we hold off on visiting for a couple of weeks. She and Foxx want some time with the baby by themselves.
Renn: Then where are you?
Mom: Oh, I’m not listening to that nonsense. She obviously doesn’t mean me.
Me: She might. With all your traveling, God knows what diseases you might’ve picked up.
Mom: Gannon Reid Brewer …
Tate:
Mom: Foxx’s mom and dad, Damaris and Kixx, and I have been approved to visit.
Jason: Have you ever met Foxx’s brother Banks? Have fun telling him no.
“What’s the story with him?” I ask.
Jason shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know where to start.”
Renn: We understand. Tell Bianca to let us know when we can visit.
Ripley: But we expect lots of pictures.
Mom: I’ll tell her. Love you boys.
Tate: Love you, Mommy.
Ripley: Love ya.
Jason: Love you.
Renn:
Me: Love you, Mother.
“I bet Mom is eating that up,” Jason says, getting out of the cart. “Another grandkid and a little girl at that? Bianca won’t be able to keep her away.”
“At least we’ll know where she’s at.”
Jason laughs and pulls out his phone. “I need to send that pic to Chloe, or she’ll kill me.”
“We can’t have that.”
I go ahead and find my ball and take a few practice swings. I don’t have all day to wait on him.
“Fucking hell, Chloe,” Jason says.
I line up my shot and hit the ball with an iron.
“We’re gonna need to cut this game short,” my brother says.
“Why?”
We pass each other—him going to his ball and me returning to the cart.
“Because my wife just sent me a very private picture with a request to have the next Brewer baby,” he says, biting his lip. “There’s something so fucking sexy about that.”
I shove my club into my bag and ignore him.
“What about you, old man?” he asks, refusing to let it go. “Are you ever going to settle down and start a family?”
“I’m too old for that shit.”
“It’s never too late to?—”
“ Jason .” I glare at him. “Don’t.”
He holds my gaze for a moment before turning to his ball.
My thoughts float back to a time when I wasn’t so jaded. The world felt full of possibilities. My life felt like it was in front of me. I even bought a fucking house.
It was the first time I remembered being happy. I smiled a lot back then. I got up in the morning, excited for what the day would hold and even more excited to come home, knowing someone was waiting for me.
Until they weren’t.
I press my teeth together in frustration.
“Tatum said there was no way you’d show up, and we figure she knows you better than any of us.”
It shouldn’t fucking bother me. But before I know what I’m doing, I’m whipping out my phone. I find my inbox, and then the email Thomas Crenshaw sent me this morning to see if I’d made up my mind. I tap REPLY.
Thomas,
I accept your invitation. See you then.
“I think you got me on this one,” Jason says, surveying our balls on the green. “Again.”
I’m not sure whether Jason was joking about winding up this game early or not, but the thought of staying out here for another hour is akin to torture. I want to go home, grab a drink, and then a shower. Let my mind switch out of this gear and onto something more pleasant. Alone. Where it’s silent.
“Grab our balls, and let’s call it a night,” I say.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Unless you want to stick it out.”
He grins. “Hell, no. I’m ready to go.”
Once our balls are retrieved and clubs are secured, we make our way back to the clubhouse. Jason types furiously on his phone as I drive us in silence. Thankfully .
The silence continues as we return our cart and make our way back to the parking lot.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot back there,” Jason says, stopping next to his truck.
I set my bag in the back of my SUV. “It’s fine. But you can do me one favor.”
“What’s that?”
“I got the email from Landry Security about our security assignments for the next month.” I lift a brow. “Get Callum off my detail.”
He tries so hard not to laugh.
“Fine. Leave him.” I shrug. “You can take it up with Landry when I kill the motherfucker.”
“You don’t even have to interact with him.” Jason laughs. “He just sits at the gate outside your house or patrols the grounds. What does it matter?”
“It matters when I look at his face, see that cocky little grin, and want to put my fist through his skull.”
Jason drops his bag into the bed of his truck. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” I open my door and get inside my vehicle. “See ya later.”
“Later, Gan.”
I close the door, start my engine, and sit until Jason pulls out.
I give myself a moment to let the events of the past hour settle in my mind. Bianca’s baby. Jason’s comments. My agreeing to give the speech at Waltham … and seeing Tatum.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself think about her. She’s apparently married and has kids that go to our alma mater. It seems like she’s on the alumni committee or PTA or something. And she still has my name in her mouth.
The idea of seeing her doesn’t bother me. But the thought of seeing her with all the things she said I would never— could never—have despite knowing they’re all I wanted pisses me the fuck off.
I check behind me and then throw the SUV in reverse.
There’s nothing I can do about it now. What is it with my fucking impulsive decisions lately?
Miss Matcha being the first.
As soon as Carys pops in my mind, I smile. Thank God Jason has already gone and won’t see this shit. He’d call me out on a smile for sure, and there would be no easy explanation on my end. There’s no way in hell I’d tell him I’m smiling over a woman.
My brothers would never let me live that down.
But why does the thought of her elicit this reaction? Why does her giggle echo through my head—and I like it? Why does her grin relieve some of the tension in my shoulders, and the memory of her perfume settle a wild part of my soul?
The answers are on the tip of my tongue, but I avoid them. I leave the questions open-ended because it’s safer that way. Thinking about that shit too often will ruin a man.
“It’s too bad I can’t take Carys with me to the Waltham event,” I say as I shift into drive.
The idea makes my body ache because let’s be honest here—there’s no fucking way I could take her to something like that and not want to end the night with her in my bed.
And that’s why I won’t further entertain that thought either.
“What about you, old man? Are you ever going to settle down and start a family?”
I hit the road with the radio blaring nineties rock, hoping it will drown out my thoughts. Because there will never be a future when I settle down and have the life I once dreamed would become my reality.
Because sometimes dreams become nightmares that you can’t escape. Those are the ones you never recover from.