Page 181 of Capturing You
Brooklynn straightened and leaned back. “Listen, we’re done with that. If we’re together…” She paused to give him the opportunity to explain that they weren’t together. That this was a short-term thing. That he was leaving and wouldn’t be coming back,but gosh, it’s been fun.
She half-expected that. Maybe three-quarters expected it.
“Which we are,” Forbes said. “Together,” he added, in case she hadn’t understood his meaning. “Aren’t we?”
“Yes. And that means whatever we face, we face together. So there’s noI dragged you into it.I wasn’t dragged. I walked into it because…because that’s what people who care about each other do.”
He held her eye contact, then nodded. “You’re right. That’s what we do.” Lifting his good arm, he said, “I need a little closertogetherwith you.”
She climbed onto the bed and snuggled beside him, settling exactly where she was meant to be.
CHAPTERFORTY-ONE
Forbes slept soundly with Brooklynn by his side, and not because of painkillers and sleep aids.
A nurse wrecked it when she ordered Brooklynn out of his bed so she could check his vitals.
His vitals were a lot better with Brooklynn cuddled beside him, but he figured the nurse didn’t need to hear that.
He wanted nothing more than to drift off again after she left, but then the doctor came to tell him he’d be released later that day. He gave all sorts of instructions about antibiotics and treating the wound, followed by a long dissertation on the importance of rest.
As if he was about to run a marathon. All he wanted was to sleep.
Brooklynn made notes on her phone like there might be a test. He loved how seriously she took his health. He loved that concerned expression on her face as she asked questions he hadn’t thought to ask.
As soon as the doctor left, the door opened again.
Why even bother to have a door with so many intrusions?
But he didn’t complain when Rosie stepped in, Grandmother on her heels.
He pressed the button to sit up, staring at his sister. It’d been dark the night before, and he hadn’t gotten a good look at her. Now, he drank her in, this sister he’d adored throughout his childhood.
She’d been eighteen the last time he saw her. Tall and skinny and mostly shapeless. She’d had shoulder-length, layered brown hair—a style fromFriendsthat was so popular at the time—and apple cheekbones and a wide, inviting smile.
She looked different, of course. She was no longer skinny, though certainly not fat. She’d grown her hair longer and added reddish-blond highlights. She wore jeans and a T-shirt, a little makeup on those apple cheeks.
Her smile wasn’t as wide or as inviting—as if something had dimmed it permanently—but it was there, aimed at him.
They’d been staring at each other for so long that it started to feel awkward.
He grinned. “Speaking of shooting bad guys, way to make an entrance.”
“You know how I love the drama.” She closed the distance and hugged him, holding on even tighter than he did.
His shoulder ached, but he didn’t complain. How could he with his beloved sister back from the grave?
When she released him, she searched his face. “You’re so handsome.”
He laughed. “You have to say that. I’m your little brother.” He felt his wide smile but couldn’t seem to tame it. And didn't want to.
“Uh-uh. If you looked like an ogre, I’d tell you.”
He tugged a lock of her strawberry-blonde hair. “It’s different. I like it.”
“Had to hide the gray.”
How could she be old enough to have gray hair? How could she be here?
