Page 8 of The Anchor Holds

“Yeah, you’ve been in shades of trouble your entire life,” he agreed, tapping his finger on the island counter. “But this is different. I may not know the specifics, may not know anything, but I know this is different. Right now, I’m gonna let you shut me out. But the second I sense it’s getting too big and too fucking dangerous, I’m stepping in.”

I closed my laptop with a little more force than necessary. “Rowan, I get you. You came out of the womb with alpha basically stamped on your forehead. And it only got worse when you deployed. It’s in you to dothis.” I waved my hand between us. “Protect, take care of, take control.” I paused, staring at my brother, the one I loved with all my heart. One of the few men I’d die to protect. “But I promise you, you step in to my business, I’ll fucking ruin you.”

My voice was ice cold, words sharper than they needed to be. I hated myself a little for speaking to my brother like that. Not enough to follow up with an apology, though. This was about protection. Protection for myself, yes, but most importantly, protection for my well-meaning brother and his entire family.

Yes, I understood he was a badass former soldier who had done things, hurt people, killed people. He wasn’t exactly some naïve, small-town boy who couldn’t handle himself. He was capable of defending himself pretty fucking well. He was noble. A hero of sorts.

But the problem was that the people I was tangled up with weren’t just villains, there was no nobility, no rules. They possessed a kind of ruthlessness that even Rowan wouldn’t be able to match up against.

Heroes didn’t fare well against the real villains of this world.

Rowan was eyeing me without the coldness I deserved. Without resentment. Still, worry lingered on his face. And I saw defeat too.

He nodded once. Defeat.

I didn’t let it show, but I was immensely relieved. Though I considered myself unbreakable—many, many men had tried to break me without so much as a crack to serve as evidence—this conversation was showing me how close to exploding and divulging it all I was. Had he pushed just a little harder, it might’ve all come out.

And he’d have never let me handle it alone; he would’ve put his life in danger, trying to fix it. Trying to save me.

Even if he did the unthinkable—the unbearable—and defeated all my enemies for me, I was beyond saving.

My eyes found my laptop again, fingers opening it because I needed something to look at, something to do. I focused on the screen, clicking on the accounts I’d flagged.

“Who are Shaw and Sons?” I asked, glancing at the invoice. “I’m about to sell their outstanding account to some debt collectors.”

The change in subject was deliberate, but this account was pressing since I’d managed to collect all the other outstanding balances from the clients who seemed to be allergic to invoices. Before me, my brother and Kip had been working on an honor system of sorts and had been far too lax about when final payments were to be collected.

It was a wonder they had even turned a profit. Which they had. A healthy one too. But with my help, they’d be putting their daughters through the Ivy League school of their choice without worry or effort.

“Leave that debt,” was all Rowan replied after a long pause, when he was most likely debating trying to hold on to our previous conversation.

I narrowed my eyes at him over my laptop. “I am your accountant, CFO, and now … debt collector, it seems. We do not leave debts, Rowan. That’s not how money is made.”

“I’m aware of how money is made, Cal,” he replied in a clipped tone. “We were making enough of it before you came along.”

I rolled my eyes. “Enough to fund the bachelor life of beers, bicep-hugging Henleys and the mortgage on this place.” I waved my hand at the cottage Rowan owned that I was squatting in. It had never really been a ‘bachelor pad’ in the traditional sense.It was a nice piece of property, on the ocean with a value that was always climbing higher. A smart investment property if you weren’t honor bound to refuse to take your sister’s money for rent.

“Now you have a wife, a daughter and another one on the way,” I continued, pointing out the obvious. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but women are expensive.”

Rowan crossed his arms, pointedly looking me up and down. I was still in PJs, but they were Italian silk. Rowan likely could deduce that they were worth almost $1,000; he had a well-trained eye for such things. “I’m well aware of how expensive certain women are. Your pajamas probably cost as much as a modest mortgage payment.”

I swallowed a smile at how perceptive my brother was.

“But…” he widened his eyes. “My wife happens to have a very successful business of her own and doesn’t need me to take care of her.”

“But you do.” I crossed my own arms, letting my lips stretch into a wide smile. “You bought her house—all cash—and you don’t let that bitch pay a single bill.”

He pursed his lips, unable to argue with me because I knew my brother and talked to my sister-in-law. She’d complained about it plenty.Rantedwas a better term for it. She ranted about my brother’s dominating behavior on a regular basis. But she did it with a blush to her cheeks and an upturn to her lips that communicated that she didn’t hate Rowan’s behavior. Not even a little.

I enjoyed it, seeing Rowan’s gruff, possessive exterior come up against Nora’s soft, passive nature. She might not have won on the mortgage or the bills, but Nora called the shots otherwise. Rowan was little more than a lovesick puppy, and I fucking loved that for the both of them.

I wasn’t what you’d call a romantic, but I had a decent amount of faith that they wouldn’t end in divorce. I’d kill my brother if he even hinted at hurting her.

“I want my nieces and sister-in-law to have a nice life,” I continued. “This,” I tapped the unpaid invoice in front of me, “will pay for their college, a backpacking trip around Europe or a bougie wedding.” I was maybe exaggerating for my point, though it was by far their largest unpaid invoice, and if these were my nieces we were talking about, it would maybe pay forhalfof one wedding. I’d be paying for them anyway. What’s the point of being the fun, rich aunt if I couldn’t spend it on those I loved? Even if it was blood money.

I sipped my coffee to chase away the ache caused by that thought.

“No way infuckeither of my daughters are backpacking around Europe,” Rowan barked, his brow heavy with a glower.

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