The following morning, Hunter was making slow but steady progress through the slog in his email inbox.

One of his employees wanted next Friday off and could he approve it. Another wanted to work from home next Tuesday to be present when the cable company came by. Cassidy wanted him to send over a proposal for their March Madness microsite. There were expense reports to complete, ass-kissing emails to write, team territory wars to mitigate. . . .

Hunter took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. He liked his job, he did, but he was also a little . . . tired.

Oxford was a huge magazine, and while he was proud to be a part of it, there was also a corporate big business aspect to his job that didn’t particularly excite him.

He much preferred the rare occasions when he could meet with a couple of employees at a time, brainstorming, streamlining processes. Instead, he supervised the people that did all of that.

It paid well, he liked his colleagues, his team, and yet if he was honest, he was sometimes a little bored with all the paper-pushing process crap.

He glanced at the clock, hoping it would be close enough for a lunch break. Preferably with Brit.

Preferably someplace where nobody from work would see them so he could feel her up under the table.

He closed his eyes and slumped in his chair. Not only was it not even ten, but the whole lunch-with-Brit longing was yet another thing on his mind. He may not know how to define what he and Brit were on a personal level, but he did know what they were on a professional level.

He was her boss. And he was sleeping with her. It wasn’t right, and if it continued, there’d have to be some changes. For her sake, for the sake of his other employees . . .

He didn’t know how the hell to resolve it, but . . . Cassidy might. God knew the man had some experience with employees hooking up. Or he could go to Cole and Penelope directly, though that was different. They were peers. They both reported to Cassidy, neither to the other.

Hunter’s cell buzzed and he grabbed for it, grateful for a distraction from his thoughts.

“Hey, Mom.”

There was a too-long pause, and when his mother responded, there was a definite wobble to her voice. “Hi, honey. How are you?”

He immediately sat up straighter. “What’s wrong?

“You sound upset,” he said, keeping his voice gentle when she didn’t immediately reply.

When she did reply, it was with a sob.

Hunter’s stomach dropped. “Is it Dad? Did something fall through with the Malik papers?”

She sucked in a hiccup breath, as though trying to pull herself together. “It’s Blake. Have you spoken with him?”

“Sure,” Hunter said slowly. Blake was his oldest brother. They weren’t quite as close as Hunter and Dustin, who was closer in age, but they checked in every couple of weeks or so.

“Recently?”

Hunter thought back. “Last weekend? Maybe the week before. I called to wish Bridget a happy birthday. Why?”

“He hasn’t been feeling well lately, and Jana made him go to the doctor, just to be on the safe side. They ran some tests. . . .”

Shakily, Hunter set an elbow on the desk, rested his head in his hand as he braced for the worst.

“He has cancer, Hunter. His thyroid . . .”

Hunter felt his ears ringing as he tried to process this. Cancer. His brother was barely forty, for God’s sake. . . .”

“What’s the prognosis?” he asked nervously.

“They caught it early, but it’s . . . well, it’s cancer, sweetie. They want to start treatment as soon as next week.”

Fuck. So not a slow-growing we’ll get to it cancer, but the real deal.

“Jesus,” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face. “How’s he handling it?”

“Oh, you know him. Stubborn, insisting he’ll beat it, but I’m sure he’s terrified. Jana and the girls too. Everyone’s thinking positive, but we’ve got a long journey ahead of us.”

Yes. They did. As a family and . . .

The company. Blake was their father’s right-hand man. He’d been groomed to take over the company someday, and Hunter knew that Blake and their father had been in discussion about transition as Dennis approached retirement.

Hell, for that matter, it was Blake who was always jokingly-but-not-jokingly telling Hunter to get his ass back to Kansas City and fix their website already.

“Blake wanted to tell you himself, and I’m sure he’ll call you soon,” his mom was saying, “but he and Jana took the kids to the lake house for a couple days while they all come to grips with everything. . . .”

“Sure, yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Mom. What can I do?”

“Oh, nothing, honey. It’s up to prayers and medicine.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, and they both knew it. He might not be able to fight his brother’s cancer. But he could do his brother’s job. Parts of it, anyway.

His mom made a frazzled sound, as though she was barely hanging on. “Hunter, honey, I have to go. Your sister’s calling on the other line. Your father and I are going to meet her and Dustin for lunch, so we can tell them in person.”

“Right, sure,” he said, suddenly feeling a million miles away from his family. Hell, he might as well be. He wasn’t there.

“Your dad and I will call you later, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Hunter hung up the phone, feeling numb and yet also . . . clear. Clear on what he needed to do.

No, what he wanted to do. What, on some level, he’d wanted to do for a long time but had been waiting for the right time to do.

Now was that time.

He felt a fierce rush of longing for Brit. For his best friend to hug him and tell him it would be okay, because Brit wouldn’t lie to him. If she said it would be okay, then it would.

But telling her about Blake would also mean he’d have to tell her everything.

He didn’t know if he could bear the goodbye. Not just yet.

Instead, he slowly pushed back his chair and stood. He walked down the hall to Cassidy’s office, relieved to see that his boss was behind his desk.

Hunter knocked on the door. “Hey, boss. You got a minute?”