Page 158 of Duke
“Colt Wallace?” I look at Ryder. “Did you—”
“Invite him?” A pink flush works its way up Ryder’s neck. “I didn’t. No clue why he’s here.”
I follow Ryder out to the front porch, where Colt is waiting. He has one hand on his hip. In the other, he holds up a small, rectangular object.
My stomach plummets. I’d recognize that pocketknife anywhere. The slight arc of the handle, the dark grain of the wood. Why does Colt have Dad’s—Ryder’s—knife? And why does he look like he wants to kill someone?
I turn to look at Ryder, hoping for answers, but he’s staring straight ahead, his face a mask of…
I don’t know what. Fear? Defiance? For the first time ever, I can’t read my brother’s expression.
“What are you doing here?” Ryder asks.
Squinting against the morning sun, Colt spits out, “Care to tell me why I found your pocketknife on my sister’s nightstand this mornin’?”
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Bonus Epilogue
Sun & Sand
Wheeler
Five Years Later
“Mommy! Mommy mommymommy!”
Tucking my feet into my flip-flops, I grin at my daughter’s high-pitched call. “Yes, lovie?”
“Come see!” That’s Robbie. I can hear the smile in his voice. “We lookcuuuuute.”
“As a button!” Maggie cries.
“Two cute little buttons,” Robbie singsongs. “Ready for the beach!”
Maggie giggles. “I love the beach. There’s dolphins there.”
“And sharks!” Robbie isobsessedwith great whites thanks toFinding Nemo, his current favorite movie.
“Maybe I like the pool better.” Maggie sounds slightly less enthused than her twin brother about the prospect of encountering wildlife at the beach. “We can play in the pool too, Robbie, right?”
“Of course we can! We’re on vacation!”
I turn my head and meet eyes with Duke, who’s brushing his teeth in the sleek hotel bathroom. He grins, his eyes crinkling at the edges.
“We’ve created two little monsters,” he half-whispers around a mouthful of toothpaste.
My grin broadens into a smile. “That’s kind of inevitable when you get a passport at three weeks old.”
“Don’t regret it for a minute.” He turns on the sink and ducks down to cup his hand underneath the faucet. My pulse skips abeat at the way his shirt draws taut against his shoulder blades. The back of his hair sticks up every which way. We may have snuck in a little quickie this morning before the kids were up, and it ended up being a bit more, er, enthusiastic than I think either of us anticipated.
Not to brag, but we’ve kind of mastered the art of hotel sex. We’ve hadlotsof practice since the kids were born five years ago. We traveled a ton when the twins were really little—Duke wasn’t joking about the kids getting passports as soon as they were earthside—right up until they hit the terrible twos, when we hit pause for a minute. But for the first year or so of their lives, we put them in their carriers and made a point to take them on the road with us as much as possible. We hit up Montreal in the summer, Florida in the winter, with stops in Mexico and Grand Teton National Park in between, where Duke and I got married when the twins were just shy of six months old.
Once they turned three and got a little better about sitting still in a car or on a plane, we really went for it. Over the past two years, we’ve been across the world: Paris, Prague, Japan.
Has it been easy? Not by a long shot. But it’s always (well, usually!) worth it. The kids know the gig by now, and they love experiencing new places with us.
Gathering my hair in a clip, I reply to my husband, “I have no regrets either.”
