Wanting a Family Man (Raven’s Cove #3)

Chapter Eight

T rystan heard Cloe stir while he was still in his bunk. He wasn’t sure if she rose early because she’d gone to bed early or because he’d told her his shift with Storm started at seven.

He hadn’t slept well at all. He’d been tossing and turning, restless and way too aware that he wasn’t alone on the boat.

He kept replaying their chat, too, disturbed by all the odd angles it had skewed into.

Have you heard the term parasocial relationship ?

Yeah. He was well acquainted with superfans who thought he was in the market for a new best friend. That mindset might explain why she was sharing herself so openly with him and asking him personal questions, but it didn’t account for his intense interest in everything she told him. It didn’t account for his willingness to answer her.

Foster care isn’t always bad , she’d said, and he’d wanted to ask her why she said it with such melancholy.

The kicker had been that final I hadn’t even seen Storm until today, and I’ve felt sick with worry since Tiff died .

That statement still arrested him. Since his return to Raven’s Cove, he’d been putting his shoulder to the wheel, but always with the knowledge that he would soon head into the bush and all of this would fall away again.

That’s why he made a living doing what he did. When his focus narrowed to covering his basic needs, he didn’t have to think about his father or what he might owe him. He didn’t have to think about whether he should reach out to his brothers. If they wanted to hear from him, they knew how to get hold of him, right?

His work was an escape from picking at old scabs. Things that shouldn’t still be tender but were.

What Cloe had made him realize, however, was that once he left Storm, he would feel it. It wouldn’t be like leaving his mother, who had a husband and stepchildren and a community around her, or his father, who had been woven into the fabric of this community, or his brothers, who were grown adults and capable of looking after themselves. Even Sophie, who had always carried a lot, was someone who could find her way forward without him.

But even though Reid and Emma were shifting into place as Storm’s primary caregivers, and Logan would remain in Storm’s life in whatever capacity he chose, Trystan was absorbing that Storm was inside him now. Leaving her would hurt .

Suddenly, the idea of being in the arctic or the rainforest wasn’t as appealing. What if something happened and he couldn’t get back to her?

His phone pinged with the depth-sounder that was his alarm.

He silenced it and rose to pull on shorts over his briefs, not bothering with the rest of his clothes yet.

In the galley, Cloe was dressed in a fresh blue T-shirt and knee-length jeans. She looked well rested and eager for the day.

“Good morning. Do you want this one?” She nodded at the espresso maker as it poured two streams of dark honey into a cup.

“Sure. Thanks.”

Stick around for breakfast , he’d been fantasizing before he’d known who she was. He ought to be more careful about what he wished for. She looked very fucking appetizing in the morning. She had an objectively pretty profile and an appealing figure. Her movements were graceful as she finished off the cappuccino with practiced flair.

“You’ve worked as a barista?” he guessed.

“Name a low wage job and I’ve probably done it.” She tapped out the used grounds.

“Bouncy castle operator.” It was the most ridiculous thing he could think of.

“Once. Covering for a friend. I got lucky and no one vomited inside but ask me about the ball pit at the Golden Arches. That place was a bouillabaisse of unmentionable.”

“Ew.”

“Yeah. Promise me, I mean swear on your life , that you will never let Storm play in one.”

“I can make that vow because I never go into fast-food places. I suggest you get something notarized from Logan.”

“Ha. Will do. What do you want for breakfast? Should I make eggs?”

“I eat squirrel shit.”

“Excuse me?” She dropped her hand from the refrigerator door and pivoted to face him.

“Nuts and seeds,” he said with amusement. “Basically, trail mix. A little goes a long way and I don’t have to use any gas or wash any pans.”

“I’ll try that if it’s on the menu.”

After they’d each downed a bowl of hemp hearts with almond milk, chia seeds, and chopped nuts. He finished dressing, then locked up the Storm Ridge.

He tried not to watch Cloe as they walked, particularly her unbound breasts, but she was so cute, trying not to skip with excitement like a little kid.

Speaking of kids, as they started up the driveway, they met Logan and Sophie walking down from the house. Biyen was with them, wearing his backpack because he was off to day camp.

“That’s an early-morning visit,” Trystan noted with a pinch of concern. “Anything wrong?”

Soph was biting back a grin, Logan was looking—What? Proud? Embarrassed?

“No!” Biyen grabbed Sophie’s hand and dragged her forward, then jerked to a halt. “Wait. Where’d your ring go?”

“I put it in my pocket. I can’t wear it at work.” Sophie patted her hip. She was trying for nonchalant, but she was starting to blush and, being a redhead, that meant she was the color of a fire engine under all those freckles and strawberry-blond curls.

Since Trystan had genuinely thought this day would never come, he wasn’t prepared for the rush of sheer delight he felt on Sophie’s behalf.

“What ring would that be?” he asked, trying to play it cool.

“Auntie Glenda’s!” Biyen blurted excitedly. That kid held nothing back.

Trystan canted his head to side-eye Sophie. “Are you marrying Glenda?”

“Yes.” She was grinning ear to ear while also rolling her eyes at his dumb joke. “I don’t know which one of us is luckier, her or me.”

“She’s marrying Logan .” Biyen groaned at their silliness. “He’s gonna be my stepdad.”

“Is he.”

Logan met Trystan’s gaze with a steady look that said, Yes, I am .

“You’re happy about that?” Trystan asked Biyen.

“Super happy. We get along great. He misses Gramps, too, and he likes building stuff with LEGO. It’s a match made by heaven.”

His words were hilarious and a heart-punch at the same time.

Sophie’s eyes turned to watery, helpless pools.

Trystan stuck his hands on his hips as he looked at his best friend since first grade. Sophie had fallen for Logan that day, but Logan, the dumbass, had never looked twice at her. Not until eight years ago. Then he had broken her heart and Trystan had been hard-pressed to so much as speak to the SOB ever since.

“What about you?” he asked Soph. “You’re happy?”

“Super-duper happy,” she said firmly.

“And you?” He looked to Logan, who was gazing on Sophie with such undisguised love, Trystan almost felt sorry for him. Not really, but almost.

“I know which one of us is the lucky one,” Logan assured him. “I won’t ever forget it, either.”

“Then I’m happy for the bunch of you.” Trystan shook his brother’s hand before he hugged the hell out of Sophie. He picked her up and twirled her and kissed her forehead when he set her on her feet. “You know you’re the little sister I’ve always wanted, right?”

“You have a little sister,” Biyen reminded him.

“But I didn’t know I would get her. Your mom is the one I’ve always wanted.” He set a knee on the gravel and opened his arms to Biyen. “Now I get to call you my nephew for real. Come here.”

Biyen gave him a loose hug, then jerked away. “We have to go or I’m going to miss the sea bus to day camp.”

“All right. Have fun.” Trystan stood.

“Congratulations,” Cloe said, waving and looking wistful as the threesome hurried away. “That’s nice news to start the day.”

“It is.” Trystan was genuinely pleased for them. If he had hand-picked a couple of women to become his sisters-in-law, he couldn’t have found a better pair than Emma and Sophie.

He was no dummy, though. He could already hear the “When do you plan to settle down” inquisition that would be aimed at him.

Thinking about that was like touching a broken tooth. He’d been close to proposing when he had realized his potential bride was using him for his money and his fame.

Have you heard the term parasocial… Yes, he had. He very much had.

He let his gaze track to Cloe, half expecting a calculating glint in her eye, but a dark cloud had settled across her expression.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Thinking about Tiff. She always wanted a huge wedding with the big dress and everything.” A haunted look had come into her eyes. “She didn’t want to get married without me there, though. That’s one of the reasons they were going to Vegas. I told her I couldn’t leave the state, but…”

“You can’t blame yourself for them being in the air that day. People make their own choices.”

“I know,” she murmured, but the shadows stayed in her eyes.

They had arrived at the front door so he didn’t say anything more. He knocked once and entered, letting Cloe go in while he unlaced his boots on the stoop.

“Oh, g’day, Cloe. Come on in,” Emma called. “Is Trystan with you?”

“Right here, yes. Good morning.”

“Did you see Sophie and Logan?” Emma asked him as he came into the kitchen behind Cloe. Em was feeding Storm in her high chair.

“We did.”

While Cloe stood where Storm could see her, smiling and offering a small wave, he bent to kiss the baby’s fuzzy hair.

“What do you think of this news. Hmm?” he asked Storm. “You get a new sister-in-law. You get a sister-in-law.” He pointed at Em. “I get one. Where’s Reid?” He looked around.

“Shower.”

He noticed Cloe was hovering awkwardly, pressing a smile onto her lips.

Trystan heard his own words and wanted to swallow them back.

“Reid and Logan got the boxes down from the attic,” Emma said to Cloe. “They’re in the rumpus room. You don’t have to do anything with them right now. I just wanted you to know they’re there whenever you’re ready.”

“Thanks. I might go have a quick look. Tiff was always too tall for me to wear many of her hand-me-downs, but…” She trailed off and plucked at her shirt. “I’ve been traveling light.”

“Help yourself.” Emma nodded toward the stairs into the basement.

“Thanks.” Cloe slipped away.

“Everything okay?” Emma asked in a whisper, dragging Trystan’s attention back to her.

He lifted his shoulder philosophically. “She’s been through a lot.”

“Like? Has she told you anything?”

“Enough.” He closed one eye, letting her see his reluctance to betray her confidence.

“Hmm.” Emma gave all her attention to scraping the last bits of pablum from the small bowl before tucking the spoon into Storm’s mouth.

Trystan wet a cloth to wipe Storm’s face and hands, making her squawk with protest.

“Are you hiking today?” Emma asked. “I need groceries so I was going to meet Reid at the pub for lunch, unless you want me to come?”

“No, enjoy your date.” He released the tray and Storm forgave him for the wet cloth, lifting her arms to come to him. “Should we take Auntie Cloe hiking?” he asked as he started to growl into her stomach. A whiff of her filled diaper stopped him. “Oof. We know where breakfast has gone, don’t we?”

He took her upstairs to change her.

*

What a nightmare.

Cloe buried her face in a cashmere sweater that smelled of geranium and jasmine, pepper and salty air.

Every piece of clothing was laden with the fragrance of her sister’s perfume and makeup. Every texture Cloe hugged into herself was an embrace of a ghost. Every vivid color belied the reality that Tiffany was gone, gone, gone.

Cloe knew she had to stop crying. Her whole body felt wrung out. Her throat ached and her eyes were on fire, but she couldn’t stem the tears or the urge to reach for the next pair of linen slacks, the next mesh pullover, and the next silk scarf.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Trystan suddenly loomed in front of her, Storm clutched in his arm.

“Oh God.” Mortified, she buried her face in the fringed scarf.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he chided, crouching before her. “But here. It’s really hard to feel sad when you’re holding this little ground squirrel. Take her.”

“I’ll squish her too hard,” she choked out, even as she gathered up her sister’s warm, wiggly daughter and immediately got a wet palm in the face for her trouble.

Storm grabbed her hair and pushed her bare feet into Cloe’s thighs, determined to stretch and reach in all directions.

“Got her? I’ll be right back.” Trystan’s hands dropped from grazing hers, and he left her with this lively ball of energy.

He was right. Cloe’s sobs turned to jagged breaths of half laughter as she folded her arms around Storm and let her bounce and grab at her T-shirt and wobble in her effort to stand.

Storm wore a fresh cotton onesie with a pair of pink leggings that ended at her knees. She scrubbed her mouth against her own wet fist, babbling, “Abbabbba.”

“Here.” Trystan came back with a damp cloth and offered it.

She let him take Storm while she pressed the cool, wet flannel to her eyes, then wiped the salt tracks from her cheeks all the way into her throat. She exhaled the last of her anguish.

“You know what else is a great mood elevator?” Trystan said. “A walk outside. What do you say? Em said you can wear her hiking boots if they fit.”

“Actually, there’s a pair of Tiff’s that are probably close enough.” She dug back into the first box she’d opened, the one with a white puff-pocket jacket and a Raven’s Cove sweatshirt with a matching knitted hat.

The boots were a size too big, but Trystan said, “Sarah’s coming after lunch to train you on the Storm Ridge . We won’t go far.”

That was good, because Cloe hadn’t done any long walks lately.

She held Storm as they stood before the closed lid of the chest freezer. Trystan used it as a table while he emptied a contraption that looked like a cross between a backpack and a baby car seat.

Storm let out a long, demanding noise and leaned toward him, releasing pathetic-sounding, tearless sobs when he didn’t take her.

“I know you want to go for a walk, you little nutburger. We have to get it ready. You know that.”

Storm looked into Cloe’s eyes, her expression saying, See how mean he is to me? Which made her chuckle and hug her closer.

“Have you ever camped overnight with her?” Cloe secured Storm on her hip and tried to entice her with the teething toy Trystan handed her.

“Em and I have talked about it. We’ve been filming hacks for taking babies on day hikes, but at some point, intrepid becomes stupid. We want to stay on this side of the line.”

She chuckled past her moment of envy that Emma filmed with him. “How do you mean? That it would be dangerous?”

“It could be, yeah. I can already picture myself saying to the camera, ‘I didn’t get any sleep last night because this one was up all night, trying to crawl out of the shelter.’ Who watches her while I build it? I can’t wear her and swing an ax. I can forage and go hungry, if necessary, but she can’t. Even when Em helps carry supplies, it’s a lot of weight between us because she’s getting so heavy.”

Storm definitely took up the lion’s share of the baby backpack. Trystan seemed to have a system as he refilled the pockets, tucking away diapers, wipes, a warm change of clothes, a sippy cup, and a zip-locking bag of dry cereal.

“Em makes these up when she has time,” he said as he added a refillable baby food pouch from the freezer, then ran upstairs for a couple of bananas.

Cloe was borrowing Emma’s backpack. Trystan had her empty it and repack it so she would know what was in it and where. She felt like she was doing her first parachute jump as she carefully stowed the shiny survival blanket, the first aid kit, a fire starter kit, and a surprisingly light tool that looked like it was issued by the Swiss Army. Then went a headlamp, a whistle, and a map that was wearing thin at its fold marks.

“Let me show you where we’re going so you can find your way back if something happens to me.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, is it?” she asked with alarm. If he only knew how many times she had imagined going on expedition with him.

“I’m going to try really hard for nothing to happen,” he said, mouth twitching. “But let’s plan for anything that could.”

He showed her the path on the map, which mostly followed the coastline with a small climb into the woods, then down to an oblong-shaped point.

While she did her best to memorize a few landmarks, he filled two water bottles. He handed one to her, along with a bag of homemade trail mix, four pouches of dried soup, and a can of bear spray.

“Don’t get it in your eyes,” he warned when he explained how to use it. “Definitely don’t get it in Storm’s eyes.”

“I see how this works, you know.” She was only half joking. “You’re going to push me in front of the bear because you know you can outrun me.”

“At least I’m giving you a fighting chance,” he said, straight-faced. “Maybe add one of your sister’s sweatshirts, in case the weather changes or we get stuck out there overnight.”

“I always thought it would be so fun to do this,” she mumbled as she packed the sweater.

“It is fun.”

The final step was sunscreen on all of them before he secured Storm into the seat of the backpack. He strapped Storm onto his back, then checked the fit of Cloe’s.

“If it starts to rub anywhere, let me know.” He ran his fingers under the straps and made a few adjustments to the fit.

He left her tingling with the mere brush of his fingers, but she shrugged and nodded, hoping her light blush wasn’t obvious.

“Let’s hit the trail.”

“I have to pee,” she said, waiting for him to turn back before she added, “Kidding!”

He smirked and shook his head at her, then held the door.

They didn’t go toward the village. They followed a thin track through the tall grass behind the house, down the hill to what appeared to be someone’s backyard.

“Sophie’s house,” he said with a nod at what looked like a hundred-year-old farmhouse. It was in good repair, but couldn’t help showing its age with subtle slopes and a patch of moss on the roof. There was a tidy vegetable garden and a large open-fronted shed nearby.

They moved toward the shoreline and followed the edge of the grass where it hung like a bad haircut over the undercut of the beach. The sand was gray and rocky and strewn with bleached driftwood. The sky was more cloud than not, but it was pretty enough to make her pause to appreciate the view.

“Okay?” Trystan noticed she wasn’t behind him and stopped to look back.

“Just thinking how lucky you were to grow up with this as your backyard.” She moved to catch up with him.

“California has some amazing parks and trails. You didn’t get out on them?”

“Not really. I went to the beach with friends sometimes and took a wine tour once. Mostly I was trying to survive the concrete jungle.”

“That struggle is real,” he said without irony. “You said Storm is your only family now? No cousins or…?”

“Not really.” The meadow was wide enough here that they could walk side by side as she spoke. “My mom’s family turned her out when she got pregnant by Tiffany’s dad and married him. She didn’t talk about him much, but he sounded like a rough character. She stayed too long with him because she had a baby to feed, but he’s the reason she developed a drug problem.”

His only response was a concerned frown, no harsh judgment, which encouraged her to continue.

“She met my dad while she was in recovery. Not that he was in rehab with her, I just mean during her first recovery. He was married. Separated, but there was a family emergency so he went back to Florida and only called her the once to say he was getting back with his wife so Mom didn’t tell him she was pregnant. That’s why Mom didn’t stay in touch or why I never reached out. Why mess with his other family, right? So I don’t actually know much about him except that his mother was Cuban and his father was Jamaican, I think? I’ve thought a few times about doing one of those ancestry tests, to see if that opened any doors, but…”

“But?” he prompted.

“I don’t know.” She hooked her thumbs into her shoulder straps. “I thought about it a lot while I was in foster care, after Mom died, but a lot of that was just, you know, grief and feelings of abandonment. Tiffany lived a perfectly good life without knowing her father so I figured I should be able to do the same.”

“It’s okay for you to want different things from your sister. My brothers and I are very different.”

Were they? Because she saw a lot of similarities.

“I wanted to go to school first. I always thought that if I met him, I didn’t want him to think I was looking for more than answers about my heritage.” Like money. “I wanted to be…” She swallowed, choking slightly. “Someone he could be proud of. But the whole thing with Ivan made me pretty ashamed so… Long story short, I’m an orphan.”

“And now you’ve lost your sister. That’s rough.”

“Yeah. Tiff was only six years older, but given Mom’s struggles, Tiff was also kind of my parent. She helped us make rent and made sure I got fed. She was just a kid, though, doing all of that. I couldn’t blame her when she moved to San Francisco with a rich guy who promised her a job. She still sent us money and we talked pretty much every day. It was my turn to look after Mom, was the way I looked at it.”

“But you were also just a kid.”

“I know, but…” She shrugged. “I didn’t actually feel abandoned by her until she got off a sailboat here and decided to stay with Wilf. That might have contributed to why I was such an easy mark for Ivan.” She only realized it as she articulated it and sent a self-conscious glance up to Trystan, hating herself for being so gullible.

He was watching her in a way that made her heart tremble in her chest, so she tried to deflect the conversation away from herself.

“It’s nice to see how close you guys all are.”

“ Who ?” The way he shot the word at her was both accusation and insult. How dare she suggest such an abominable thing?

“Are you not?” She blinked, genuinely surprised and feeling like she was overstepping again. “You’re pretty ruthless with your jokes, but they are jokes, aren’t they?”

“Yes. Mostly. I don’t know.” He pointed at the path so she would lead the way from the shoreline into the woods.

She had a feeling he was doing the deflecting this time.

“Have I touched a nerve?” she asked over her shoulder. “I’m really sorry.” Why couldn’t she keep her foot out of her mouth? They weren’t friends . “Tiffany made it sound like you were all estranged from Wilf so I thought it was nice to see that you actually have fun when you’re with your brothers. But it’s none of my business. I’ll shut up now.” She kept her nose forward and trudged into the lush undergrowth.

“It’s not a secret,” Trystan grumbled after a few minutes of dense silence while they climbed the winding path through the trees. “Everyone here knows our history. I’ve never had to explain it to anyone.”

“You don’t have to now.” Cloe was dying of curiosity, though.

“What did Tiffany tell you?”

“Not much. She said Wilf had three grown sons by three different wives and none of you really talked to him or wanted the resort. She thought that was short-sighted since she saw nothing but potential in it.”

“Dad was never married to my mom so…not a wife,” he said behind her.

“Does that bother you?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“No. I’m just clarifying. Frankly, I’m relieved. He didn’t treat his wives all that well. He bought Raven’s Cove with money that Reid’s mom inherited and brought her here shortly after Reid was born. The isolation can be hard at the best of times, but Miriam had an undiagnosed bipolar disorder.”

“And a newborn?” Cloe looked back again, this time with concern. “Did she develop postpartum depression?”

“Probably? She definitely struggled, but rather than get her help, Dad went to the pub, where Glenda provided a sympathetic ear to his marital issues.”

The Glenda that Emma and Sophie spoke of so highly?

“Glenda freely admits she made a mistake,” Trystan said. “If Dad were here, he would say that mistake’s name is Logan. I’m trying to keep it classy by not repeating that.”

“Clearly.” She couldn’t help smirking.

“Miriam found out about the affair, divorced Dad, and moved to Victoria with Reid. She’s been trying to pry her money out of the resort ever since, but Dad refused to sell it. He paid support, Glenda made sure he did, but Miriam is still fixated on how her inheritance was stolen. I can’t blame her.”

“Then he married Glenda?”

“Because she was pregnant with Logan, yeah. Dad marrying her was the smartest thing he ever did. In a lot of ways, I guess they were happy, but she wound up having some miscarriages so Dad needed comfort again.”

“Really?” Cloe had to stop and turn sideways to look at him, genuinely appalled.

He had said his father had flaws. Emma had said he was a player, but Wilf had also been her sister’s fiancé. He was Storm’s father. If she, Cloe, felt this disappointed in his behavior against people she didn’t even know, how must his sons feel?

“My mom was a marine biology major doing summer contract work for the DFO, Department of Fisheries and Oceans.” He paused beside her and made a small adjustment with his backpack that had Storm picking up her drowsy head. “The mistake he made with her is called ‘Trystan.’”

“He didn’t really call you guys mistakes, did he?”

“Not in a mean-spirited way. Dad didn’t think he made mistakes. Only jokes.”

“They still sting.”

“I honestly don’t care what he called me.” He sounded truthful but tired. “Mom was an adult, and she has always said the affair was consensual. She says she doesn’t regret it because she got me, but she was twenty-two. He was ten years older and married. He took advantage of a na?ve young woman and that’s definitely a shitty thing to do.” His brows bunched heavily over a dark brown gaze that looked into the distance.

His father’s behavior was unforgivable, Cloe was realizing. At least where Trystan was concerned.

“Yet, you lived with him here for your whole childhood?” she probed gently.

“Mom took a couple of years off from school to have me. When she decided to go back, Glenda asked if I could live with them. I knew all my relatives on Mom’s side. Anyone would have taken me in to help her, but she and Glenda were on good terms. Glenda was making sure Dad was paying support. They thought it would be good for me to know my brother and father.”

“I can’t believe Glenda stayed with him.” She fell in behind him as he took the lead.

“Eventually she got tired of his wayward ways, but she’d slept with Dad when he was married to Miriam. She knew how affairs happened. Dad was always sorry .” He layered the word with irony, as though that fixed everything. “He wasn’t an outwardly cruel or abusive man, just selfish. He went after what he wanted in the moment and didn’t think about the consequences. He was one of those beg for forgiveness rather than ask for permission kind of guys.”

Yech. “Now I’m wondering why you lived with him for so long,” she admitted.

“Why did you stay with your mom, even though she had issues? You’re a kid and those issues seem normal to you,” he answered for her. “You love them despite their failings.”

It was true. Her mother had always been sorry when she backslid into using. Cloe had got used to believing she just had to get through each rough patch, never thinking it would end with her mom actually dying from it.

“I liked it here,” Trystan continued. “Logan and I were tight when we were young. Not so much after I left. I was really pissed over the way he treated Sophie. She never told me exactly what happened, but he’d better not mess her up again. There will be blood.”

“You’re really close with her.”

“I had to make friends with her. She was the only kid my age until we were twelve. She dogged me everywhere, always asking me about Logan.” He spoke with exasperated affection.

She smiled, liking that image. “And Reid? Where was he? Still with his mom?”

“At first.” His voice turned grave. “She had a crisis when he was eight and couldn’t look after him. The good news is, she finally got diagnosed, but it was a long road. He came to live with us, and it was tough . Logan was seven, I was five. We weren’t really aware we had an older brother until he was here. Logan and I were still close for a while. We shared a room, but he and Reid locked horns. Reid didn’t want to be here, but this was a more stable atmosphere than living with his mom. What does that tell you about how hard it was for him when he visited his mom?” he asked over his shoulder.

“It sounds like it was hard for all of you.”

He winced and looked forward again.

“My childhood wasn’t bad . Dad wasn’t the most affectionate man, but Glenda was great, and I could have gone to live with Mom anytime. Reid and Logan resented that. They both felt trapped here. I actually tried living with Mom in Nanaimo when she finished her doctorate. She had a really good job, bought a house with her sister. I lasted four days in that big school full of strangers, trying to fall asleep with a streetlight glowing in my window. Riding back and forth to school on a bus .” He might as well have been crawling through a sewage pipe, judging by his tone. “I wanted to be here.”

“The grass is always greener, isn’t it?” she murmured.

“The forest is a helluva lot greener than the city, that’s a true fact.”

“That’s why you came back? Not for your brothers?” If not his father?

He jerked his shoulder in a nonanswer. “Reid and Logan had one foot off the island. Both left the minute they graduated. I wasn’t far behind. We barely talked after that, only texted sometimes to say Happy New Year or whatever.”

That made her really sad. She would do anything to have her one sibling back and he had two who he seemed ambivalent about.

“Here we are,” Trystan said as they broke from the trees onto a rugged beach that thrust out as an arc against the choppy blue water. “Are you awake back there, possum?” He reached back to squeeze Storm’s foot.

She picked up her head, blinking.

He loved his sister. It was sweet to see and made Cloe’s heart pinch with longing, not because he had his sister, but because she wanted to know what it was like to be loved so unreservedly by this particular man.

Don’t , she warned herself, but the thought was there and now it wouldn’t go away.