Page 66 of Beautiful Exile

Arden laughed, the sound wrapping around me and digging in. “It’s a comfort to know I’m right about some things.”

She reached over and took the glass. Lifting it to her lips, she tipped it back. The sip wasn’t small, but she wasn’t shooting it either. She wanted to experience everything the bourbon had to offer. I could admire that approach.

I watched as she swallowed, her throat working on the action. A hint of wetness remained on her lips as she pulled the glass away. I’d never been jealous of an inanimate object before, but damn, I was jealous of the bourbon in that moment.

She set the glass back on the arm of my chair. “So, you want to tell me why you’re glaring into the dark?”

I didn’t look away from her, couldn’t if I tried. “Only if you tell me why you went looking for me there.”

Arden stared back at me for a long moment as if she could read every thought in my head. “Saw shadows in your eyes tonight. Ones I recognized. Didn’t want you to be alone with those demons—at least not if you didn’t want to be.”

God, she was a kick to the solar plexus. Her brash honesty. Her authenticity. Her kindness. “You were right earlier. I’m worried Ellie will end up like my mom.”

Just saying the words out loud was both freeing and agonizing. Because once they were out there, it was as if there was more of a chance of them coming true.

Arden shifted, her whole body turning to face mine. “Does she know what your mom went through? What your dad put her through?”

Right to the heart of the matter. Always picking up on the most important details.

My fingers curled around the rocks glass. “No.”

Arden’s mouth thinned. “Why not?”

I’d thought about it more times than I could count. It might fix some things, but it would break far more. “She was so young when it happened. Too young to really remember a lot of the bad times.”

“Are you sure about that?” Arden asked.

I braced, my fingers tightening around the glass. “What do you mean?”

She shifted slightly and glanced up at the main house as if looking for Ellie, checking if it was okay for her to share. But there was nothing but moonlight. “We talked a little tonight. She seemed to know that her family life growing up—and now—were lacking.”

An invisible fist ground into my sternum. I’d worked so hard to protect Ellie and give her a safe place to run to whenever she needed. “It wasn’t enough.”

Arden’s brow furrowed. “What wasn’t?”

“Me.” The pain of that one word was almost too much to take.

Pain swept through Arden’s eyes, but quick on its heels was heat. “That’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. That’s bullshit. It takes two seconds of seeing you two together to know you’re her safe place to land. She feels safe with you.”

“Then why the hell won’t she stay? She’s going back to New York tomorrow. Back to that dick weasel, Bradley, and our dad.”

Arden’s lips twitched. “I’m sorry, did you just saydick weasel?”

“Maybe I should ask Lolli forthatpainting,” I muttered.

Arden choked on a laugh. “That would be a sight.”

We were quiet for a moment, but neither of us looked away. And there was comfort in the simple connection, the contact of it.

“I’ve looked after her my whole life. It kills me that I can’t protect her now. Shield her,” I said, the words quiet in the night air.

Arden’s face softened. “You’ve been more father than brother.”

“Maybe.”

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