Page 107 of No More Secrets
“Ranks right up there with the night I talked Moon Beam Parker into the backseat of Mom’s SUV.”
“Or the Christmas we all got paintball guns,” Jax remembered.
“Do you still have that scar?” Carter grinned.
“It’s my badge of honor,” he said, rubbing a hand absently over his temple. “I can’t believe Mom didn’t kill us. Christmas night in the ER.”
“Head wounds tend to bleed a lot. I told you not to move,” Beckett smirked.
“I didn’t move! Your aim just fucking sucks.”
“I still maintain that the sights were off. Besides, the fruitcake hit the ground. That’s all that matters.”
Carter put down his empty glass and stood up. Bracing himself against the porch railing he yanked the t-shirt over his head and tossed it in Beckett’s face.
“Last one to the pond has to start the eggplant tomorrow.”
He vaulted over the railing and sprinted for the pond. Behind him, his brothers pounded down the porch steps after him.
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When Phoebe let herself into Carter’s house the next morning, she discovered all three of her sons in various states of undress, sound asleep in the great room. Carter was on his stomach on the long L of the couch, a blanket pulled over his head and upper body.
Beckett was sleeping open-mouthed in the chair, his legs propped up on the ottoman.
Jax was snoring on the floor, his legs under the coffee table, an empty beer bottle clutched in his right hand.
As quietly as possible, she pulled a barstool over to stand on and opened the camera on her phone. If nothing else, this could be the family Christmas card, she thought, snapping the photo of her unconscious boys.
Her boys.
She loved them fiercely.
Their loyalty to each other was unshakable. Neither time, nor distance, or even disappointment could dim it. And though her heart ached for Carter, she knew he would stand strong. She only hoped that Summer would find the strength to embrace the love that had been offered to her. Whatever her secret, family and a life full of love was the answer.
Phoebe tiptoed back to the kitchen and slid the hashbrown casserole into the oven.
––––––––
The scent of coffee drifted into the great room and teased Carter awake. His head pounded and his heart hurt. But he was here. He glanced at his phone, not daring to hope, but still felt the pang when there were no new messages.
He shuffled out to the kitchen.
“Good morning,” he murmured to his mom, thankful when the words didn’t split his head in two.
She kissed him on the cheek and pushed a coffee mug at him. “Rough night?”
“Jax was the one who puked.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes. “A mother only has so much pride to go around.”
She pushed him toward a barstool and started pulling plates out of the cabinet. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I assume you don’t mean Jax vomiting scotch in a flowerbed?”
She raised her eyes heavenward. “I hope it wasn’t the zinnias. They’re so unforgiving.”
Carter got up and retrieved a container of coconut water from the fridge. “I told her I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.” He took a deep swig to wash down the tightness in his throat, remembering her face. “She wasn’t of the same mind.”
