Page 103 of Beat of Love
“She’s notyourBrandy-Lyn. But … yeah.”
There was a pause. The air between them changed — sharpened, like a wire pulled tight.
“She’s been … good for me,” Rafferty said. “So have her kids. They don’t look at me like I’m broken.”
Sullivan stared at him, censure hardening his features. “You’re still crawling out of hell, Raff. This isn’t the time to start something with anyone — let alone with Brandy-Lyn. That’s just … messed up.”
“Nothing’s happened,” Rafferty went on. “I’m not that much of an asshole. I need to get my shit together first. That’s why Istarted therapy. But—” He looked up, eyes raw. “I’ve fallen for her.”
“Don’t,” Sullivan snapped.
“I’m not asking for your blessing.”
Sullivan’s jaw tensed, pulse ticking.
Rafferty exhaled slowly, steadying himself. “It’s been twenty years, Sully. She moved on. Married, had kids. Built a life without you. And you’re engaged now, so I’d hope you’ve left those feelings in the past.”
“Of course, I still have feelings. I loved her once. I hurt her. And now we’re tied together as business partners, even if it’s from a distance. This isn’t just some old flame you’re flirting with. She’s still part of my world.”
“AndIwant to be part of her world,” Rafferty said, voice quiet but firm.
Sullivan stepped forward, a vein jumping in his neck. “Raff, you’re an—”
“An addict?” Rafferty straightened. “No. I am arecoveringaddict. Let’s get that right.”
Sullivan didn’t respond, but the tension between them was a live wire.
“Yes,” Rafferty went on, his voice steady despite the fire behind it. “It’s hard. But I’m going to therapy. Sit in a church basement week after week. I’m doing the work. Because I want something more. Something real.”
He paused, the words settling between them. “And I want that with Brandy-Lyn. And she deserves whole. Not the wreck I still am. Not some half-healed version of me. And there’s still the danger with Kamila about. So yeah, I’m not rushing into anything. But I’m not walking away either. Not unless she tells me to.”
Silence fell again as his twin held his gaze, searching, seeking to discern the truth of his words.
Finally, Sullivan said, “If you hurt her — if you mess this up …”
“I won’t,” Rafferty cut in. “I already know what it feels like to lose everything.”
Sullivan looked at him, long and hard. Then he turned and walked into the house without saying another word.
Rafferty slumped against the pillar, the weight of it all pressing down on him. So much for mending fences. Nowbothhis brothers were aligned against him.
And he never got to tell Sullivan that hemissedhim.
30
A little hollow
Christmas was wrapped in all the right things — good food, crackling fires, laughter echoing off the walls — but for Rafferty, it was still laced with something he couldn’t shake. His siblings were settled and smiling in that easy, effortless way he envied. Jo glowed when she announced her pregnancy, eyes shining as the room erupted in congratulations. Essie had been nervous about bonding with her baby stepdaughter, afraid the connection wouldn’t come naturally. But you wouldn’t know it now — she was settling into married life with Max with surprising ease, chatting about hospital shifts and babysitting schedules like she’d been doing it all her life.
Aidan, true to form, still glowered from across the room. When little Jamie tripped and burst into tears, Rafferty reached him first — only to have Aidan swoop in like a hawk, scooping the toddler out of his arms, and offering Raff nothing but a cold nod.
Even Sully joined, his royal duties keeping him away in person but not in spirit — his face bright on the screen, his voice warm and teasing. He chatted about his wedding, the date confirmed for the last week in May.
His mother beamed through it all, her happiness worn proudly like a holiday brooch. And Rafferty smiled, clapped people on the back, lifted glasses, and laughed when expected.
But it all rang a little hollow.
Eventually, he slipped out the back, trading the noise and warmth for the bite of night air and silence. He found himself on Brandy-Lyn’s dark veranda that night, the chill settling into his bones. The house was empty — quiet in a way that mirrored his mood. He stood there a long time, hands buried in his pockets, staring into the dark. She was away, sunning herself in the Caribbean. And he hoped she was having a good time. God knew, she deserved a time of fun and play.
