Page 68 of Paging Dr. Summers

“Brooke,” I whispered against her soft lips, aching to taste them. I longed to feel her warm, soft skin against mine. However, I wouldn’t be selfish with her. Not in that moment. Not ever.

She twisted my shirt tighter, resisting the temptation brewing between us. “I know.” She snuggled back against me, her head landing on my chest.

I let out the breath I’d been holding, feeling both relief and the best kind of torture.

“If I promise to keep my hands off you, can I stay the night? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

I chuckled and kissed her head. “Of course, you can.”

She relaxed and settled more into me.

I tightened my hold on her, feeling more unsettled than ever. Brooke was right—this summer was more than I had bargained for. I didn’t regret any of it, but now I wasn’t sure how I wanted it to end.

MY EYES KEPT DARTING BACK and forth in the semi-darkness between the woman in my bed, her hair wild and messy on my pillow, and the one on my nightstand, flawless and always in control.

One begged me not to forget her.

The other made sure she would leave her permanent mark on me, just as Erica had.

Both were so damn beautiful and so damn different.

I rubbed the back of my neck, exhausted but unable to sleep. The confusion about the women in my life consumed me, but what truly kept me awake was Maxwell Harrington’s actions. What kind of man abandoned and ignored his daughter? Did he have any idea how much he’d hurt her? Did he care? Was he even aware that Brooke had the envelope and knew his secret?

These thoughts made my blood boil. I wanted him to know exactly what he had done. All the pain he’d caused. But I knew Brooke wouldn’t tell him. She was right not to give him the time of day, but I hated how much Maxwell had hurt her and her mother. He should have been accountable for some of his actions or at the very least acknowledged them.

Even if Maxwell weren’t raising my blood pressure, I knew there would be no sleeping that night, knowing that Brooke was in my bed, and even more so because she looked like she belongedthere. Erica’s soulful brown eyes seemed to narrow at me from the photo, disappointed by my thoughts.

My fingers brushed over the glass in the frame. “I love you,” I whispered. “I’ll always love you.”

My eyes darted back to Brooke, who was wearing one of my T-shirts and still clutching the manila envelope. The ire building inside me for how much Maxwell had hurt Brooke had me jumping up from the chair I’d placed by the bed. I’d promised Brooke I would stay until she fell asleep. I gazed down at her. My muddied feelings for her felt like someone had taken a wrecking ball to my heart and they didn’t know if they should build an addition for her or a wall to keep her out.

For that night, I would act like a man ready to knock down walls for her.

I marched out of my bedroom to find my parents and Eden still up, all sitting in the great room, quietly chatting among themselves. There was no doubt what—or who—they were talking about. We had all been shocked to learn the truth about Brooke’s parentage. Even if I was relieved that Maxwell Harrington wasn’t a cheating pervert. In some ways, though, he was worse.

“How’s Brooke?” Eden asked.

“She’s finally asleep. But if she wakes up, will you let her know I’ll be back soon?”

“It’s late. Did the hospital call you in?” Mom asked.

“No. I’m headed over to the Harringtons’.”

All the eyes in the room went wide.

“Why?” Eden asked. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“Probably not, but someone needs to hold Maxwell accountable for what he’s done to Brooke,” I replied, grabbing my keys off the counter.

“And you think you should be the one?” Mom asked, worried.

Victor placed a hand on her thigh. “Don’t try to stop him. He’s doing a good thing.” His comment took us all by surprise. Normally, he just went along with whatever my mom wanted. Victor gave me a poignant look. “I’m proud of you. I’m sure your father would be too.”

His words made me stand a little taller. “Thank you.” More than anything, I wanted to be the kind of man my father would be proud of.

Mom wrung her hands together, fretting. “Just be careful. The Harringtons hold power in this town.”

I shrugged, not caring what they could do to me. All I could think about was the beautiful creature in my bed, hurting and feeling like she was less because of that prick, Maxwell. She didn’t deserve that.

---