Page 56 of Shades of You

He sighed another long breath, but this time it sounded more at ease. “You’re so perfect. You’re the light to my darkness, Brenna.”

I moved my hands to his face, the soft hair of his beard silky beneath my fingers. My thumbs brushed gently over his eyelids, urging them to close. I kissed each one softly,feeling the flutter of his lashes against my lips. “Keep them closed.”

He complied, a willing participant in this quiet exchange of care. Then I pressed another kiss to his mouth. It was slower, deeper, a mingling of breath and warmth that said everything I couldn’t voice aloud. Hunter’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me against him with a strength that belied the fragility I had sensed only moments before. As if he were drawing courage from our connection and finding solace in our shared silence.

I relaxed in his embrace. My head found its place on his shoulder, and I stared up at the stars. They were our own private display of light against the darkness, a mirror of the intricate patterns on his skin. And in the quiet of Hunter’s rooftop sanctuary, under the watchful eyes of the constellations, I let the unspoken words hang between us.

Sometimes love was loudest when it was silent.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Hunter

A senseof surreal happiness filled me as I swept my gaze around the table, where my siblings and I were celebrating in a corner booth of Conch Republic. All five of us. The air was electric with pride and excitement after our semifinal win against the Marathon Manatees.

“To the Stingrays!” Maia’s face was lit with victory as she raised her glass. “One more win and we’re taking home that championship trophy.”

Evan tried not to laugh as he elbowed Stella. “And here’s to our dear sister’s sliding catch in the seventh. Thought for sure you were going to face-plant and cost us the game.”

“Hey now,” Stella protested good-naturedly. “It’s called style.”

As laughter erupted among us, Luke, the bartender, ambled over with his sandy hair falling into friendly hazel eyes. He set down a frosty pitcher of beer and four glasses. “Heard the good news, so this round’s on the house. And some victory chips and salsa to keep you going.” With a practiced flourish, he added a large bowl of tortilla chips.

“Thanks, Luke!” Stella called as he headed back to the bar. The tangy scent of salsa mixed with hoppy beer as she poured everyone a glass.

My gaze flicked from face to face around the table—Maia’s eyes sparkling with mirth, Evan’s easy smile, Gabe enjoying a rare laugh, Stella’s wide grin. Something unspoken passed between us, an acknowledgment of the significance of this reunion.

The last time only us siblings were gathered around a table, I was a gangly teenager and more focused on immersing myself inside a book or under the water than appreciating family. And then I became a ghost, haunting overseas locations for years at a time. Now I understood just how precious this was. Maia caught my eye and tilted her head slightly, a silent question in the quirk of her brow. I shook my head almost imperceptibly.

Don’t say it out loud. Don’t break the spell.

It felt like we were all holding our breaths, afraid that by pointing out the extraordinary nature of this gathering, we’d somehow shatter the fragile magic that had brought us here. Like naming a fear could make it real.

So we sipped our beers and munched on chips, the conversation flowing around safer topics—the game we’d just won, the best dive spots, Stella’s latest culinary adventures. But an undercurrent of something deeper hummed beneath the easy banter. Our shared history.

A bond bent and twisted, yet now being repaired.

I leaned back in my chair, and warmth bloomed inside me. I wanted to bottle this feeling, to tuck it away somewhere safe and pull it out when needed. Because despitethe laughter and camaraderie, I knew it was tenuous. And so did everyone else around this table.

Gabe’s face sobered as he raised his glass. “To family and baseball.”

As five frosty glasses clinked in the middle of the table, we all echoed his sentiment, a ripple of tentative acknowledgment going around. And in true oldest brother fashion, Gabe deflected the heavy moment by bringing the conversation back to baseball. “So, championship game coming up. And against those damn Barracudas.”

Maia’s brow furrowed as she snagged a tortilla chip. “We’ll need to get a handle on their ace pitcher and that big slugger of theirs next time.”

Stella grinned, her eyes dancing. “Oh, I think we match up rather well with them now,” she drawled, her gaze flickering between Evan and me. Pride flared in my chest. Stella had always been our biggest cheerleader, even when we stumbled.

Evan ducked his head, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “I don’t know. I feel like I chickened out by only pitching the first few innings. Manuel really stepped up and secured the win for us.”

“Hey, none of that,” I said firmly, but I wasn’t ready to give his shoulder a supportive squeeze. One step at a time.

Maia’s smile faded as she stared at him. “Ev, what you did out there was a massive step, and you were your usual lethal self. You were the one who dug their grave. Manuel just hammered in the nails.”

“The Enforcer in action,” I added quietly, bringing up Evan’s nickname when he’d been a holy terror on the mound. The pitches he’d thrown today might not have been in the same league, but he’d gotten the job done.

Gabe’s eyes met mine, a moment of perfectunderstanding passing between us. We knew the enormity of what Evan had achieved today, the inner battles he’d fought to get here. I’d had my own share of problems, but I wasn’t the one who ended up in a wheelchair.

As Evan’s posture straightened, tentative confidence settled over him. I leaned back against the worn booth, and the peeling vinyl crackled under my shoulder blades. I inhaled the camaraderie and support swirling around our little corner of Conch Republic, hardly able to believe it.

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