“On it,” Rosie says, rising from her chair and grabbing everything we need.

  Luna reaches into the cabinet for the pills, resting her body on the edge of the counter for balance. “You’re all moving too fast.”

  “The world is moving too fast for you today, babe. Have some bacon and toast if you can’t stomach the eggs. The protein and carbs will be good for you.”

  “I need coffee to wash down these pills,” she states.

  Arlo looks over at her, moving the eggs around the pan. “You should use water.”

  All three of us stare at her in silence.

  “What?” she asks, looking at each of us. “That’s what the bottle says.”

  “Ar, no one follows the directions. Liquid is liquid,” Rosie informs her.

  “I follow the directions,” Arlo replies.

  “Shocking,” Rosie teases on a whisper as she heads back to the table with plates, forks, and napkins. “So does my mom, but no one else.”

  “Do you take them with water?” Arlo asks me.

  I shake my head. “I grab whatever is closest.”

  Arlo gawks at me. “For real?”

  “Yeah, babe. I’m a dude, too. We’re not going to stop for some water. We’re going to grab whatever and choke those pills down.”

  She blinks, her mouth hanging open.

  “Arlo, you’re way too grown up for Carmello,” Rosie tells her, setting the table. “He may look old, but he’s not fully grown.”

  “I don’t look old,” I correct her. “I’m not fucking old.”

  Rosie laughs. “Cousin, you’re in your thirties.”

  “I’m thirty-one, not in them.”

  “You are, but not deep. Still makes you middle-aged.”

  It’s my turn to blink, jerking my head back. “What the hell, kid? I give you a place to stay and breakfast, and you have to throw shade my way?”

  “Oh, stop. Thirty isn’t old. I think the guy Luna was flirting with last night was older than you.”

  “Oh boy,” Arlo whispers.

  I turn my gaze to Luna, and my eyes immediately narrow. “What. The. Fuck?”

  Luna shrugs before jamming two pills into her mouth and washing them down with coffee. She mumbles, the words not audible behind the mug.

  I point the butter knife at Rosie and then Luna. “Thirty is way too old for either of you. Stick to your own age group.”

  “Have you been around twenty-year-old men lately?” Rosie asks as she slides back into her chair.

  “Just the ones who come into the shop and the others in our family. Besides them, no,” I tell her honestly.

  “They suck. Like not a little suck, but suck hard. All they care about is gaming, and they’re broke as fuck. I ain’t about to sit on the couch all night, playing video games or watching them play video games. And besides that, I want a man who’s going to treat me like a queen, and so does Luna.”

  “I’m sure you could’ve found your Prince Charming at the caves last night, right?”

  Rosie rolls her eyes at me. “You’re being an asshole again.”

  I touch my chest, pretending to be hurt. “Babe, all guys are assholes. If you think otherwise, you’re mistaken. Who in our family who has a dick isn’t an asshole?”

  She taps her lip, glaring at me as I carry the toast to the table. “No one,” she mutters. “But I’m not giving up on mankind just yet.”

  “You’re in for a big letdown.”

  “Then why do people get married?”

  “Because they find the one asshole they can put up with on a daily basis. You just have to find the right asshole for you, with the knowledge that he, too, is an asshole, no matter how sweet he seems at the beginning.”

  “Arlo, do you know Carmello’s an asshole?”

  Arlo chuckles as she slides the scrambled eggs into a bowl. “I know he is, but he’s super sweet too. I don’t see his asshole side too often.”

  “I’m good at hiding it,” I whisper to Rosie, giving her a wink. “Suck her in with the sweet first.”

  “God, I hate men,” Luna says, coming to sit next to her sister. “You guys really are all assholes who only think with your dicks.”

  “Basically,” I tell her. “The sooner you accept that as fact, the better off you’ll be. Always be leery of the nice ones. They’re wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

  “Does that include you?” Luna asks me.

  “That has been me, but not with Arlo.”

  “Why not with Arlo?” she shoots back.

  “I don’t know, kid.”

  “You’re sweet and patient too,” Arlo adds as she sets the bowl of eggs in the middle of the table. Her arms then come around my shoulders, her cheek pressed to mine. “I wasn’t prepared for you.”

  I turn my face slightly so our lips are almost touching. “Hooked you already, didn’t I?”

  “You did,” she whispers.

  “You two are gross,” Luna says.

  Arlo’s smile touches her eyes as she looks at me. “I like being gross with you.”

  I plant a big sloppy kiss on her, hearing the two girls gag and not giving a fuck. This is my house, and if they don’t like seeing the mushy shit, they shouldn’t get drunk and need a place to hide out from their parents.

  “Eat,” I tell them. “And then showers. We have to be at Gram’s in a few hours.”

  21

  “Where are we going?” Arlo asks, wrapping her arms around my waist as I fire up the bike.

  “Somewhere special.”

  “But I thought we’d hang out with everyone,” she says in my ear, making herself heard over the roar of the engine.

  I turn my head, looking at her over my shoulder. “I don’t want to share you all day, sugar.”

  She smiles, her green eyes lighting up. “Okay.”

  “Okay,” I say back to her, giving her a wink. “Hold on, babe.”

  She tightens her arms around my middle and places her cheek on my back. I love this. The way she feels against my body, plastered to me like a second skin.

  I move slower, weaving in and out of traffic less than I would if I were alone. I have precious cargo on the back, something I don’t ever want to injure.

  There are still times, a decade later, when Carrie’s death creeps up on me and the guilt of not controlling the car crashes down, having the ability to suck me in. The times are fewer. The episodes shorter. But they still come and go.

  I’ve never much cared about my own personal safety, but I worry about my friends, family, and now Arlo.

  I take no extra chances, checking my surroundings more than usual and driving defensively instead of offensively. Is this what happens when you love someone? You change, even ever so slightly, to keep them safe from harm? If that’s what it means, I am there, and I’m more careful and mindful about her well-being than my own.

  I take pleasure in every red light stop as she relaxes for a moment, kissing the back of my neck. And I fucking love every time the light switches to green, and her arms tighten again, tethering her to me.

  The ride to the beach is entirely too short. Less than thirty minutes later, we arrive at a small patch of deserted sand as the sun hangs low in the sky, preparing for its nightly departure.

  Arlo’s hands flatten on my stomach, her chest still pressed tight against me as she looks over my shoulder. “It’s so beautiful here,” she says after I cut the engine.

  “I come here to think sometimes,” I tell her, looking out over the sand to the Gulf of Mexico with my feet firmly planted on the ground. “It’s the best spot to watch the sunset.”

  She grips my shoulders with her hands as she pushes herself up and off my bike. She runs her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the wildness from the helmet. “It’s been a long time since I’ve come to the beach to watch it.”

  I climb off, taking her hand in mine, and lead her toward the sand. “I thought this would be a good way to spend tonight. I wanted you all to myself where no one could find us.”

  She squeezes my fingers, peering at me over her shoulder. “It’s perfect,” she says softly, her voice nearly drowned out by the crashing of the waves across the sand.

  Halfway between the road and the water, I stop and plant my ass in the sand, pulling Arlo down with me.

  Her back melts against my front with her hair blowing in the wind and her locks licking my face. This is a small slice of heaven in the middle of nowhere, with no one and nothing around us to interrupt.

  “Are you comfortable?” I ask her, sliding my arm over her shoulder, holding her across the top of her chest.

  She looks back, a smile gracing her perfect lips. “Very.”

  “I’m sorry about my cousins last night. It wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go.”

  “It’s okay. It was nice to see your entire family isn’t perfect.”

  I laugh, brushing my lips across her neck. “They’re not perfect, sugar. Far from it. They’re just good at keeping their shit under lock and key.”

  “I guess we all have our family secrets,” she whispers, staring out at the fluffy clouds where they kiss the horizon, the sun peeking out every so often.

  “I know they seem cool, calm, and collected, but when shit goes sideways, they’re all animals.”

  Arlo chuckles in my arms, tipping her head back to rest on my shoulder, giving me complete access to her neck. “I can’t imagine them that way.”

  “Stick around long enough, and you’ll see for yourself.”

  “Mello?” she whispers.

  I freeze, my lips planted firmly against her skin, and my stomach plummets from her tone. “Yeah?”

  “Are you happy?” she repeats my question to her back to me.

  “Completely,” I answer with no hesitation.

  I don’t remember the last time I was this happy, but I know it was before the wreck. Afterward, nothing tasted as sweet or felt as good until Arlo walked into my world, turning everything upside down.

  “You sure?”

  I tighten my arm around her upper body, snaking my other one over her abdomen. “Absolutely, sugar.”

  There’s a comfortable silence between us as I nip at her neck but keep my eyes on the horizon. Arlo is the first woman I’ve ever been with who doesn’t need to fill the silence with words, and my mind is still and peaceful.

  “Are you okay after talking to my dad?”

  I’d given Arlo time alone with my father, letting her confide in him what she wanted to about her past.

  “Your dad is easy to talk to, Mello. He’s a great listener, like you.”

  I smile against her skin. “I haven’t always been.”

  “Shocking,” she teases. “But yes, I felt like a weight had been lifted after talking to him. He said he’d do whatever he could to find my birth parents.”

  “Ar?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Why did your parents name you Arlo? Were they hippies or something?”

  She shrugs. “They loved sixties music. They named me after Arlo Guthrie. It would’ve been nice if they’d named me after a woman, like Janis Joplin or something, but…”

  “It’s unique and fits you perfectly.”

  “I guess so, but I got into a lot of fights as a kid for having a different name.”

  “Has anything in life been easy for you?”

  “This,” she whispers. “This has been easy.”

  “Besides us.”

  She lifts her head and stares at the water. “My face made things easier, but not easy, and besides that, nothing has been even close to easy since my parents died.”

  I hold her a little tighter, wishing I could take away all the bad that’s touched her. “I never realized I took my family for granted until I met you. I mean, I knew I was lucky, but I didn’t understand how lucky I’ve been. I’m so sorry, Arlo.”

  “It’s normal, Mello. I don’t want anyone to know what it feels like to have no home and for the only family you’ve ever known to die or be taken from you. Be thankful you’ve had the life you had. I would give anything to have grown up surrounded by all the goodness of your family.”

  “I am blessed.”

  “Your face doesn’t hurt either,” she says with a hint of laughter. “You could’ve been a model.”

  I scrunch my nose. “I would’ve been a shit model, babe. It ain’t in me to smile.”

  “You would’ve nailed the moody, brooding photo shoots. You have that look down pat.”

  I playfully bite down on the tight muscle between her neck and shoulder, and she giggles, squirming against my dick.

  “I don’t have a moody look.”

  Her hands come up to my arms, holding on to me and giving in to the way my mouth moves against her neck. “You are a mood unto yourself,” she tells me, continuing to laugh.

  I was right about what I said not that long ago about Arlo. She isn’t the type of woman you forget or wipe clean from your soul after she works her way inside. She’s unforgettable, leaving an imprint with her sweet laughter, kind smile, and stormy eyes.

  “Five years from now, where do you see yourself?” I ask her, fishing for information.

  We haven’t been dating long…real dating…but I know I can’t picture a future without her somewhere in it. Even if she no longer wanted to be with me, I’d have to find a way to keep her as a friend, even if it means seeing her happy with someone else.

  “Sitting right here like we are now,” she breathes out with a small smile. “You?”

  My heart skips and then picks up the pace, her words finally seeping in deep. “Same,” I whisper against her neck. “Are we fucked up?”

  “Maybe, but if we are, I don’t want to be normal.”

  “Normal has never been my thing,” I tell her.

  “Do you want kids?” she asks, getting into the nitty-gritty of what the future could look like.

  “Do you?” I ask her, wanting to know her answer first.

  “I do. Lots of kids.”

  I swallow. Fuck. Lots? What’s her idea of lots of kids, because I don’t know if I could handle ten little versions of me or her running around the house? Having a daughter who’s half as beautiful as Arlo would be sheer and utter torture. I’d probably spend my golden years behind bars for beating the piss out of some handsy man wanting to get into her pants. “How many?”

  “Three or four.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. I could handle three or four little people, max. But any more and life would be too busy, and I enjoy our time alone. My parents were insane with the three of us, but somehow, they still managed to make time for each other, never losing their connection.

  “I’d be good with that.”

  “But for now, I want to enjoy us,” she says softly into the breeze.

  I lean back, taking her with me as the sun kisses the top of the water and the sky explodes into shades of red, orange, pink, and blue.

  “It’s heavenly, isn’t it?” she asks.

  “There’s only one thing more beautiful.”

  She smacks my arm. “You don’t have to say those things. You already got me, Mello.”

  I dip my head, bringing my lips near her ear. “Sugar, you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever met, and I’m not just talking about your face or your banging body.”

  “My banging body?” She laughs again.

  “Yep. I said what I said.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “Crazy for you,” I whisper.

  She turns in my arms, sliding her legs underneath mine so our middles are practically touching. “I need to tell you something, but I need you to listen to me before you get mad.”

  My stomach drops and knots, because there’s no smile on her face. Whatever she’s about to say is something I won’t like or I’m probably not ready to hear. I can tell by the look in her eyes.

  “Okay,” I say, drawing out the word, bracing myself for maximum devastation.

  A minute ago, we were talking about a future and kids, and now she wants to drop a bombshell on me to rock whatever calm we had going.

  She reaches up and places her hands against my face. “Promise you’ll listen.”

  I swallow, locking my eyes with hers. “I promise.” My entire body is frozen, and I’m barely breathing, too scared to allow myself to relax.

  “I don’t know how to say this…”

  “Just say it, Arlo. Don’t dance around whatever it is.”

  She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a second as she slides her hands to my neck. When her eyes open again, they’re soft but filled with sadness. “I haven’t been completely truthful with you.”

  I inhale sharply, feeling like someone just gave me an elbow to the gut. “What?”

  She looks down, and I stare at her in complete shock. “I couldn’t tell you the truth before. Not because I didn’t trust you, but I thought you’d think differently about me.”

  My hands, which have been at her sides, tighten on her waist. “You couldn’t tell me the truth about what?”

  She shakes her head, lifting it just enough to look at me through her eyelashes. “I’ve never told anyone the truth.” Tears flood her green eyes, hanging on her lids, ready to fall as she stares up at me. “No one knows, Mello. No one. Not even Lily. You need to promise me what I’m about to say doesn’t go beyond us.”

  “I promise, babe. Nothing you say will go beyond us and this place.”

  When she gives me her eyes again, the tears are slowly streaming down her cheeks. “Do you know anything about foster homes?”

  “I know very little and then what you’ve told me.”

  “They’re not all rainbows and sunshine. It’s rare that one is a happy home where a kid is welcomed and made to feel like a member of the family.”

  I grab her hand, comforting her, wishing I could wipe away her hurt.

  “When I was fifteen, I was moved to a new home, and that’s about the time I started getting tits and an ass. And tits and ass get you attention even if you don’t want it.”

  Bile rises in my throat, and my stomach twists. I know what she’s going to say before she says it, and the reality of the massiveness of my earlier dickish behavior slams into me. “Arlo,” I whisper.