“I can handle this,” I laugh. The wind blows through my hair, the sunshine warm on my face as I look up at Dom. “I’ve babysat kids before.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I see his attention switch direction and land on my cleavage. I squeeze a little tighter than necessary and watch his pupils widen just a bit.

“Do you want to go to the gym today? Or stay home and play with Ryder?” I ask.

“Gym.”

“Then get your ass out of here,” I say, swatting him on the behind as I step to the side. “Ryder! Don’t go down the slide headfirst, okay?”

“Okay!”

He repositions himself at the top of the slide and scoots down the metal incline and into a pit of sand below. Picking himself up, he goes right back around to do it again with the biggest smile on his face.

The playground behind their apartment complex is minimal at best. A slide, a broken teeter-totter, a little dinosaur that just bobs back and forth, and a couple of swings are it. Ryder knows no difference. This is his favorite place in the world.

“What are you going to do all afternoon?” Dom asks, coming up behind me and folding me into his chest. His chin rests on my shoulder as we watch his nephew.

“This, probably. I, um …” I force a swallow, a little nervous and a little embarrassed about my next sentence. “I brought some designs that Sienna has for the company she’s thinking about launching with a friend in Illinois. She asked me to take a look at them for some reason, but I don’t know why—”

“Because you’re smart.”

My cheeks heat and it has nothing to do with the sun.

“I heard your suggestions for The Gold Room. Have you ever thought of doing something with design? Maybe interior design or something? Your house is beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I blush.

“You should, Cam. I think you’d be great at it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” he laughs, kissing the top of my head.

“Well, I’ve strangely enjoyed it. And, this might sound dumb, but I’ve been thinking about how to use design and combine it with volunteer work and scholarships and stuff to see if I can come up with a way to make a difference somehow.”

“That,” he says, kissing me sweetly, “is an awesome idea. I love it.”

My grin causes my cheeks to ache.

“I want to talk about this more. But right now, I need to go. Bond’s probably already waiting.”

I bite my tongue and don’t say the words that come so naturally—the question about why he’s doing it or why he can’t just stop. While I don’t understand the answers, I know what they are. And I know this is important to him. So instead of going there, I smile. “Have fun. Be safe.”

“Oh,” he teases, backing away slowly. “I like this new Camilla. Where’d she come from?”

“Don’t push it.”

“You sure you don’t want to talk me out of it? Remind me how bad it’s going to hurt later?”

“Nope,” I say. “I’m going to go to the pharmacy and buy adult bubble bath and ice packs and ace bandages. If I have to worry about you getting hurt, you have to deal with me fawning all over you when you get home.”

He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. His smile as wide as his shoulders says it all. With a little wave and a shout of goodbye to Ryder, he’s in his car and pulling out of the parking lot in a minute.

The Camaro rips around the corner and is out of sight. I stand watching where he was parked, reveling in the easiness of things right now. Over the past few days, since the fight with Graham and Dom’s revelation about his teenage years, things have been a little different. Less complicated. A touch closer. More intimate.

We aren’t there, yet, not to the place where I feel like we’ve crossed the hurdles and are on solid ground. There’s still so much to work through. But progress is progress.

I turn to watch Ryder struggle to get in the swing. “Let me help you, buddy,” I say, crossing the curb and padding through the grass. I get him situated and then pull the swing back and let him go free.

“Higher, Camilla!”

His laugh pierces the air, a stark contrast to the rather dismal surroundings. He’s making the best of what he has.

“You’re an inspiration, Ryder. You know that?”

“What’s a spiration?”

“An in-spiration,” I say, slowing the word down, “means that you inspire me.”

“I don’t understand what that means.”

“That’s okay. It’s a good thing.”

He pumps his legs back and forth, the tail of his superhero cape floating behind him. “You know what else is a good thing, Camilla?”

“What’s that?”

“Little brothers!”

“What do you know about little brothers?”

“Well, Chrissy’s sister has two little boys and they get to play together all the time. I told Daddy I need a little brother. Chrissy said I should tell him so I did.”

“I bet she did,” I say, laughing. “But a little brother would need a mommy, Ry, and I don’t think your daddy has picked one yet.”

“You could be my mommy.”

“Oh, well …” I say, realizing what I just walked into. “I’m not your daddy’s girlfriend. I’m your Uncle Dom’s. So I could be your aunt, but not your mommy. Although, any woman that gets to spend time with you is a lucky ducky.”

He grins at me, his eyes sparkling like Dom’s. “You make me happy.”

“You make me happy too, little guy.” I slow him down until his miniature cowboy boots drag the dirt. “I have an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Instead of spending the day here, why don’t we go to my house?”

“Could we?” he asks, jumping off the swing.

“Absolutely. Let me check with your daddy first.”

“I could’ve brought him home,” I tell Nate as he comes through the door. “It would’ve been no big deal.”

“I’d hate for you to have to get out and lug him around, especially if he’s asleep.”

“He passed out a few hours ago.” I tuck my legs under me on the sofa and watch Nate take in my living room. “I think I wore him out. We played at your apartment, then I took him down to Marcone Park and fed the ducks and got an ice cream, then we watched a movie.”

“All in one day? Shit, Priss. He won’t want to leave.”

Laughing, I pick up my glass of hot tea. “It was fun. When Dom called and told me he had to go do an emergency HVAC job, I tried to get Ryder to take a bath. But he kind of just used my tub as a swimming pool.”

“Sounds about right.”

The lamps around the room cast a soft light on Nate’s features. It mutes the general sternness he projects and makes me wonder how he would’ve ended up had he not had the upbringing he did.

He’s handsome. Not quite as good-looking as Dom, but almost. They’re both intelligent and hard workers. I can see them both sitting in suits at a business meeting or on the arm of a woman at one of the fancy dinners my parents attend regularly. The thought makes me smile.

“So,” Nate says, clearing his throat, “Dom told me you and one of your brothers had a falling out.”

“Yeah.” My heart tumbles as Graham is brought up. He hasn’t called me and I haven’t called him. I pick up my phone at least twice a day and almost give in and reach out and then I remember—I have nothing to apologize for. I put the phone back down.

I hate this between us. It’s something I can’t shake. Even though I do believe, without a doubt, he means well, I can’t act like this is okay because it’s not. Graham will never respect me if I let him walk all over me.

“If it’s my fault …”

“It’s not your fault,” I insist. “It’s … it’s the joining of a bunch of different things. Family growing pains, I guess. I don’t know.”

“I can tell it bothers you.”

“Yeah,” I rasp. “My family is really close. Like you and Dominic but there are six of us. I’ve gone this long without talking to one of them lots of times, but never because we’re actually mad.”

“Can I help somehow?”

I shake my head, putting my tea back on the table. “No. It’ll work out.”

He looks away and lets out a breath. “Did they not like Dom?”

I know what he’s implying, questioning, and I feel terrible that such a thing would cross his mind. “Ford and Lincoln did like him, actually. You know Sienna loves him. I mean, what’s not to love?”

“Lots of things,” he chuckles. “But he’s a good guy. I know you know that.”

“I do.”

He turns to face me, his eyes pure sincerity. “Dom is the only person in my entire life I can count on. I don’t know how much he’s told you about parts of our childhood…”

“Enough to understand what you’re saying.”

“He told you? About … that?”

It’s like he can’t say the words, and I just want to jump up and hug him tight. But I don’t. “He did,” I whisper.

He heaves another breath. “He bore the brunt of our dad’s problems. He was the one that couldn’t ignore it, couldn’t stand to see the damage the next morning. Dom feels things more than I do, I guess. Or maybe he paid more attention or was around more because he was younger.”

His head hangs. “I should’ve protected him. That night, I—”

“Nate.” I wait for him to look at me. When he does, his eyes about slaughter me. “Nothing that your dad did was your fault. And what happened that night was a terrible accident that neither of you wanted but happened anyway.”

“He’s never been the same, Priss. There’s been a piece of Dominic that’s been a little untouchable since that gun went off. Like … it’s like something happened when that trigger was pulled that made him feel … less. Dirty. He’s carried that shit around ever since.” He makes sure I’m listening before continuing. “Only recently have I caught glimpses of the brother I used to know.”

“Nate …”

“It’s true. As much of a badass as he is, he’s been on this mental island since all that went down. But he’s starting to let you in.”

Tears flood my eyes.

“If you’re going to cry, we’re done here,” he jokes, standing up straight. “Where’s my kid?”

“Follow me.” I wipe my cheeks dry with the back of my hand and lead Nate down the hallway. I prop the guest room door open.

Nate and I stand in the doorway and watch Ryder curled up in a ball in the center of the bed, snoring softly. A juice box that we picked up at the grocery store is on the bedside table.

“I’ve never slept that well in my entire life,” Nate whispers. “Just look at him.”

“He’s a sweet boy.”

“When I was that age, I’d put a chair in front of my door when I went to bed in case it was the night my father would come for me for my ass-whippin’.”

My hand rests on his arm, tears coming back to my eyes again.

“It never happened at night. But I never had a night where I didn’t fear it.”

“I can’t imagine that. I hate you had to go through that.”

“I don’t.” He looks down at me, his eyes a little greener than his brother’s. “It made me who I am. It made Dominic who he is too. Do I wonder what it feels like to be Ryder right now? Sure. But the fact that he’s not living like that is what’s important.”

“You’re kind of philosophical,” I say, trying to break the moment.

He chuckles quietly. “Sure.”

“You know what? Why don’t you let Ryder just sleep here tonight? I’ll feed him some sugary breakfast and bring him home wound for sound in the morning.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. But let’s let him sleep.”

Nate searches my eyes, looking for something he must find because he eventually nods and pulls the door closed. As we make our way back down the hallway, he starts laughing.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. Just thank you.”

“For what?”

He stops in the center of the foyer. “For taking care of Dom. Me. Ryder. Just promise me that even if Dom fucks this whole thing up, you won’t write off me and the kid.”

I laugh and open the front door. “I have a feeling there’s not much your brother can do to fuck it up that bad.”

“Call me if you need anything,” he says, stepping out on the porch. “And thanks again.”

“Any time.”

He does what Dom does—waits for me to lock the door before going to his truck. I head back to the sofa and curl up with my tea and a heart that’s fuller than I ever could’ve imagined.