After a week together, two things were very clear.

First and foremost, I’d been right. Even though it was only a week, every day that ticked by was further confirmation. It was easy. Connor and I, together, was easy. Honestly, that wasn’t something I’d expected. Not with the tension that had been between us for so long, with the back-and-forth, the arguing and hurt feelings. I suppose, though, I should’ve expected this. The only conflict we’d really had was solved by coming together. Everything else was a nonissue. Even when I started dating Seth, though we’d known each other for years, there was that adjustment of trying to be comfortable in each other’s presence, judging when to let real life seep in, to simply be who we were instead of the idealized version of ourselves. There was none of that with Connor. We already knew each other’s darkness, bad habits, annoying qualities. We fell into step as easily as… well, brothers, I suppose. Or, a couple who had been married for decades.

Secondly, we had to get out of my house. While the thought of living on an island, secluded from everyone else, sounded romantic, the reality was starting to make us a little crazy. After work, we’d be back in my house, make dinner, watch TV, have sex, and sleep. On the one hand, it was great. And, if there’d been another option, staying in probably would be something we would choose for a month or more at a time. But we didn’t have other options, and it was making me feel trapped. To my surprise, Connor wanted to tell the family, to just get it done, let the chips fall, and we would be free.

As happy as I was, as justified as I felt my years of hoping for Connor had become, I wasn’t ready to tell our family. Things were different between Connor and me, even more so than in the months before Moses arrived and plunged us into chaos. Connor was more settled and didn’t seem to have the constant guilt that had never left before.

Maybe Connor finally believed all of this was my choosing, not some damage inflicted on me years ago. But I couldn’t shake the worry that if there was a glitch, whether it be Moses’s return or our family’s reaction, or a billion other things, that if Connor went back to his cut-bait-and-run, there wouldn’t be any coming back this time.

I couldn’t risk that. Not till I was sure. I wasn’t positive what would make me sure. I just knew there was a pit of unease in my gut if I thought about it too much.

Even so, we had to get the fuck out of that house. We opted to go out for pizza. Chances were low we’d run into our family or any of the other founding families there. Especially at dinner. And even if we did, we’d acted like brothers for the majority of our lives. It wasn’t like we’d be holding hands or fucking on the table.

Connor nudged me with his elbow as we walked up to the front door of Lavender Slices, and though he kept his voice low, there was heat in his words. “This is a warning. I didn’t have a chance to stop for lunch today, so I’m planning on eating about sixteen pizzas.”

I glanced up at him, grinning. “Sixteen, huh?”

He nodded.

“And why do I need a warning about that exactly? You know I can keep up with you.”

He patted his flat stomach. “You know, just in case you have any Santa fantasies you need to indulge in. Even if it’s not even July yet, I’m getting my belly on.”

Like sixteen pizzas could find their way out from his abs. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to play the role of Santa’s little elf.”

Connor grimaced. “No. Absolutely not. Elves are little and creepy. Not at all hot.” He considered for a moment. “How about you be Donner? I always thought it was kind of a sexy name.”

I’d been about to reach for the door, but I paused, gaping at him, having to suppress a laugh. “You didn’t even say that to be funny, did you?”

He shrugged, looking puzzled. “No. Why would I? It’s a sexy name.”

“Okay, say it with me… you find the name Donner sexy. Donner. Connor.” I raised my eyebrows, and I repeated the words slower. “Donner. Connor.”

“What? I’m not supposed to like names that rhyme with my own?”

I let out a snort. “It’s basically your same name. You’re just saying your name is sexy. And you want me to role-play as you.” I paused at that thought. The idea of two Connors going at it. Shit. I was never going to get that image out of my head. There was no way to make that fantasy happen either. Damn it. “You know what, never mind. I don’t blame you. That’s about the hottest thing I can imagine.” I reached for the door again, then had another thought, and leaned closer to his ear to whisper, more to be a bitch than anything else. “The other option is, that you just asked me to role-play as a reindeer. I didn’t realize you had a thing for cloven bovine with antlers. I may have to reconsider the type of man I’m in love with. I thought we had all our secrets on the table. Or maybe you just have a thing for shiny red noses.”

His jaw dropped. “That had nothing to do with Donner being a reindeer. I have no attraction to reindeer. Or other animals.”

I pulled open the door, waving my hand dismissively over my shoulder as I walked in the pizzeria. “Whatever, Connor. You can’t deny they’re well hung.”

“That’s revolting.” Connor sputtered in disgust as he walked inside. “Besides, Rudolph was the one with the red nose. Donner was way too sexy for that shit.”

I started to look back, making an inappropriate joke that would probably haunt me later, when a voice cut across the restaurant. “Micah, Connor! I didn’t know you were joining book club!”

Connor’s gaze met my own, just for a heartbeat. We knew that voice. The entire town knew that voice.

Shit. Book club.

It was Tuesday night. We knew what Tuesday night meant, what it had always meant. Holy fuck, we’d stumbled into book club.

Suddenly the claustrophobic feeling of being trapped in my home sounded like a slice of heaven.

As one, Connor and I turned to see Robert Kelly leaving a long table filled with women and coming toward us. For a second, my brain couldn’t make sense of what my ears had heard and my eyes were seeing.

“Oh my God.” Connor’s voice made it sound like he was about to bolt. Not that I could blame him.

Before I was able to put the pieces together, Robert was hugging me, strands of the long blond wig he was wearing catching at my lips. And as if proving that Connor and I had really stumbled into some fucked-up Alice in Wonderland world, my mother’s voice cried out over Robert’s shoulder, “Boys!”

I saw a new version of my mom. One that I was going to have to pay Donovan Carlisle a fortune in therapy to be able to unsee. Considering I’d grown up with Regina Bryant, that was saying something. She stood shakily from the head of the table, waving, then had to grip the edge to remain upright. With her other hand, she started to wave a glass of wine, spilled some, then stared at the offending object. She took a swig, placed it on the table, and waved again, successfully that time. None of that was overly concerning. The only time Mom drank more than a solitary glass was on her Tuesday night book club. Which was typically in the safety of the Bryant house, or one of the homes of the other book club members. The truly horrible part was the skintight, black leather bustier, which appeared to have been meant for a much smaller woman, complete with a corset cinched up the center with thin black rope. At her knee-high black-booted feet, lay a dominatrix whip.

A quick scan of the rest of the table revealed that every woman was dressed in matching apparel. Though at first glance, none of them quite as successfully—if that was the right word.

At some point in my horror, Robert had quit hugging me and was pulling away from Connor, who seemed to be having a similar reaction and was currently staring at our mother in disbelief. After a second, the edge of his lip that always turned up, cracked into more of a smile. “Mom, what are you all up to?”

“Well, book club of course!” She made a flourish in the air with her hand, lost her balance, and crashed down onto her chair. She looked down, apparently realizing she wasn’t on the floor, and then gave a small nod and smile of achievement.

Robert had a hold of Connor's hand already and reached out and grasped mine. “Come on, join us! We need some beautiful men in the group. I can’t be the only one.”

I looked over at Connor as Robert pulled us toward the table. “I think they’re drunk enough, that if we run, they won’t even remember we were here.”

He shrugged. “I know it probably makes me a sick bastard, even more than the reindeer comment, but I kinda want to see where this goes.” His grin broadened. “I don’t have my cell with me, so it’s up to you to get pictures. Gilbert and Lacy will definitely want to see this.”

Proving I was his equal in evil, I took it a step further. “I’m sure you’re right, which means we should send the pictures to Hayley.”

His hazel eyes widened. “Yes! Brilliant. No wonder I love you!” His eyes widened again, in a completely different expression.

A little jolt of panic shot through me, but I shrugged it away. That comment could easily be said between brothers. And even if it wasn’t, judging from the score of empty wine bottles on the table, nobody would notice or remember. The group of dominatrix women played a game of musical chairs, shuffling around the table and making room for Connor and me to sit down.

Robert grabbed chairs and placed them between him and our mom. Before he sat, he gave a little twirl. “So, what do you think?”

He didn’t match the women at all. Despite the leather pants, which were more buckskin brown and were crisscrossed up the crotch with leather ties. His shirt was made from a billowing white material, huge puff sleeves cinched at his wrists, and a deep V-neck down past his sternum, that too crisscrossed with leather bindings.

“You’ve never looked better, Robert.” Connor kept the laughter out of his voice, which was impressive. “You’re the most handsome pirate I’ve ever seen. It turns out blond really is your color.”

Robert smile faded, and he scowled at Connor, then looked at me. “I’m not a pirate. Surely, Micah, you can outsmart your brother. Here’s a hint, remember this is book club and these ladies don’t read Treasure Island.” He flicked the blond hair off his shoulder in emphasis.

It was the hair flip that did it, looking for an instant like it was caught in the breeze. “Connor’s not necessarily wrong. Surely Fabio has been a pirate a couple of times.”

Robert cheered, then sat down with a flourish. “Nicely done, boy. Nicely done!” He looked down at his body. “Granted, I don’t fill out this shirt as well as Fabio, but I daresay there’re no complaints about the pants.”

I leaned into Connor, as Robert gave his impression of Fabio’s voice. “New plan. We’re videoing this shit and sending it to Lamont. We’ll tell him he’s got a new cover model for one of his books.”

Connor chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Mom jumped in, grasping my hand and motioning across Connor to where Robert took his seat. “Of course, Robert’s not normally in book club, but when he heard what we were reading, he had to join in. We finished the trilogy tonight”—she leaned even closer but increased her volume instead of whispering—“for the fourth time. So we decided to have a theme party. Obviously.”

Several of the other ladies joined in, a few of them lifting glasses of wine, others shaking little whips or long feathers.

Robert also attempted to whisper, but failed. “I have to say, I was disappointed. It was a little tame for my liking. Definitely doesn’t measure up to some of the experiences I’ve had. If you’re going to go for it, I say really go for it.”

I didn’t have to ask, the outfits finally making sense. It seemed Connor caught on at the exact same moment. “Really, Mom? Again? How many times can you all read the Fifty Shades books?”

She leaned over once more, this time her strapped up breasts grazing my arm as she patted Connor’s cheek. “Don’t knock it till you tried it, baby. You should read them. You might learn a few things.”

We both shuddered.

The confining walls of my home were sounding better every moment. “Well, we don’t want to bother you all. We were just going to grab a pizza and watch a movie.”

I made to stand, but Mom grabbed my arm, holding me in place. “Don’t you dare. You’re not intruding on book club at all.”

Connor nudged me again and smiled at Mom, noticeably keeping his gaze fixed on her face. “This is better than any movie we could watch. Don’t worry, Mom, we’re staying.” He snagged a slice of pizza from the center of the table and turned to Robert. “So, why Fabio? Doesn’t the guy in the books wear a suit or something?”

Robert rolled his eyes. “Exactly. Talk about boring. Plus, I already had all of this in my closet, and I only wear my suit if someone is getting married or insisted on dying.” His eyes widened happily and he reached over, stroking Connor’s muscled arms. “Speaking of, there is this sheer shirt in the International Male catalog. It’s got tattoos printed on it that run up and down the arms, so it looks like you’re not wearing anything and are just tattooed. I think it would look phenomenal on you.”

Connor chuckled again. “Robert, you do remember that I have actual tattoos. These are real, you know.”

Before Robert could reply, Miss Brighton, who had always looked like she dyed her thick black hair with shoe polish, and was eighty years old if a day, leaned across the table and grabbed Connor’s hand. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to come into your little shop. I’ve been thinking about getting a butterfly tattoo on my lower back. I think the kids call that a tramp stamp. Do you give a senior citizen discount?”

Mom pulled me in closer, drawing my attention away as Connor and the rest of the table began talking tattoo choices. “Don’t let Marian Brighton fool you. She doesn’t need a tattoo for the town to know she’s a tramp.”

“Mom!” I shot a glance at Miss Brighton, making sure she hadn’t heard.

“Oh, please!” Mom waved me off. “She is. But I don’t mean anything bad by it. Lord knows your brother was a tramp forever.”

I glanced back at the table again, making sure Connor hadn’t heard. That really would’ve hurt his feelings to hear our mother talk like that. Nor was it a comment I expected from her, no matter how drunk she was. “Mom, lower your voice.”

Her brows knitted, and she looked at Connor, then back at me, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, good Lord! Not Connor. Gilbert. Don’t be silly. I’ve heard stories from people about all the men you and Connor have seen from time to time, but we all know it can’t compare to the hordes Gilbert’s made his way through. Thank the Lord for Walden. Lavender Shores might be sexually liberated, but I’m pretty sure Gilbert was pressing the limits.”

I laughed hard at that. It was going to be like offering Gilbert a Christmas present to relay this conversation. Before I could think of what to say next, Mom finally found her actual whispering level, and despite the overwhelming smell of wine on her breath, there was no slur to her words. “I’m glad you’re here, Micah. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

She sounded so serious that a tingle of worry bit at me.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Seth. He really is a dear, dear love. But he’s not for you. I think you always knew that.”

Relief arrived. I wasn’t sure what horrible thing I’d been expecting… accusations about Connor, telling me she was sick, but the Seth breakup was manageable. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m fine. Really.”

“Well, of course you’re fine. I wasn’t worried about that. Like I said, you two weren’t meant to be.” She leveled her gaze, though it looked like it took some effort to truly focus. “You’re free again, baby. Go to New York, reclaim your life, your dreams. It’s silly for you to stay here wasting all that talent on farming.”

I adored my mother, and I had to remind myself of that fact before I spoke. I knew she’d loved her parents, had a great childhood, but I also knew she’d worked her ass off to leave Texas, risked everything to have a different life. To her, Lavender Shores and her real estate business was the stuff of New York City symphonies and Broadway. Me falling in love with the occupation of her father was like turning my back on everything she’d sacrificed and fought for. “Mom, I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I’m not going back to New York.” She opened her mouth to argue, but I pressed onward, clarifying. “I’ll still go when they need me at the recording studio, I might play a concert here and there, every once in a while when there are special engagements at the Symphony, but I’m staying in Lavender Shores. I love working on the farm with Adrian. I love owning the Green Violin.”

There was a squeeze on my knee under the table, and I glanced over. Connor met my gaze, gave a quick smile, then refocused on the rest of the table—obviously he was eavesdropping. I took a second to marvel at the feel of his hand on my leg there in public. Even if it was hidden by the table, even if there was low risk, considering how distracted and drunk the rest of the book club was. It was the first time he’d ever touched me, ever claimed me, in public. Feeling almost giddy, despite the conversation I was having with Mom, I slipped my own hand under the table, over Connor’s, and linked my fingers with his.

The distraction had given Mom a chance to regroup and offer a different argument. “Even if all that’s true, and I’m not sure it is. And while I know you miss your grandparents, we all do, and I know farming makes you feel close to them, there’s no young man for you here. Seth is just one more proof of that. Not only do I want you to reach your career goals and dreams, but I want you to have love, baby. I know you’re fine on your own, that you’re strong, but I want to know you have someone to walk through this life with.”

I almost told her. Almost pulled Connor’s and my hands out from under the table for her to see, for the restaurant to see, for all of Lavender Shores to see.

That wasn’t my choice to make. And I wasn’t truly sure how she would respond, especially considering she was drunk.

So I got as close to the truth as I could. “I’ve already found the man I’m going to walk through life with, Mom. I’m not worried about being alone.”

She blinked a couple of times, obviously confused. “But Seth….”

“Not Seth.” Maybe saying this much was a mistake. I was sure it was. But it felt so good to say it. Like a relief, even if I couldn’t say Connor’s name yet.

“Then who? Do I know him?”

I hesitated, knowing I couldn’t tell her, but not wanting to lie either. “We’re figuring some things out, Mom. We need a little time. But I promise to tell you soon. And I promise that I’m not alone. And I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

She studied me, suddenly looking almost sober. “Really? You’re really happy?”

“Yeah. Just as happy as I always dreamed I could be.”

Mom smiled and took my free hand. “That’s all I want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. For my baby to be happy.”

I hoped that was still true when I told her. When we told her. In truth, she wasn’t the one I was worried about. I was much more concerned about what Dad would think, with his greater sense of propriety and notions of what Lavender Shores founding families should and shouldn’t do. But I wasn’t truly certain how Mom would react either. But with my right hand in Connor’s, and my left in our mother’s, I chose to hope for the best. I’d held on to that dream for years, never truly knowing if I could have it all. Well, having our family’s acceptance was part of having it all. So, I wasn’t done hoping quite yet.