Pushing His Luck - Rhyannon Byrd Page 0,34

out. She looked so young, it still sometimes blew his mind that she had a seven-year-old son. But then he would see the two of them together, and he would be blown away even more by what an amazing mom she was.

And while he knew that Sean and Natalie suspected it was the fact that Karin had a kid that had scared him off, they were only partially right. It wasn’t that she was a mom that had been the problem—it was knowing that she needed someone worthy in her and her son’s lives, which had made his shortcomings even more obvious. Because while it would have been bad enough to disappoint Karin, disappointing both her and Jase… Christ, the idea of that ever happening still terrified him.

But going through life without them? Fuck no. That wasn’t something he was willing to do.

Which means I have a hell of a lot of shit to figure out, he silently muttered, taking a sip of the cold beer Sean had just handed him. Natalie had a paper to write for one of her business courses, so he and his brother had come out onto their balcony after the two of them had finished cleaning up from dinner, their forearms braced on the wrought-iron railing as they watched the storm move out over the Pacific.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sean nervously peeling at the label on his bottle, and it suddenly occurred to him that his brother had been acting a bit antsy all night. He’d just been too wrapped up in his own head to realize it until that moment.

Turning to face him with his elbow braced on the railing, he said, “Jesus, dude, what’s got you so on edge?”

“Nothing,” Sean muttered, still messing with the label.

“Don’t pull that crap,” Paul drawled with a quiet snort. “I’ve been able to see right through your bullshit since you were five and tried to play it like you weren’t the one who broke my Nintendo. So spill.”

Sean pulled in a deep breath, then slowly let it out as he said, “Yeah, shit, okay.” Another deep breath, and then he looked at Paul, his lips twitching into a nervous smile as he blurted, “I’m, um, going to pop the question to Nat on Friday.”

“No shit?” he croaked, his voice hoarse from surprise. “That’s… It’s fucking awesome, man!”

Sean’s shoulders shook with a husky laugh. “I know. I just… Fuck, Paul, I hope she says yes.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at the idiot. “Christ, man, have you seen the way she looks at you? She’s probably going to say yes before you even get to the end of the proposal.”

Sean grinned like someone who’d just been handed a million dollars. “You think?”

“I don’t think, dude. I know.”

“God, I hope so.” His brother’s blue gaze cut toward the French doors that opened onto his and Natalie’s condo, focusing on the closed door to the home office that he shared with her. “She’s… She’s fucking amazing,” he husked, his low voice rough with emotion.

Reaching over and gripping Sean’s shoulder, he said, “I’m happy for you, little brother. You deserve this.”

“Thanks, man.”

They both took long pulls off their beers, before turning their attention back to the storm. As thunder rumbled out in the distance, Paul was surprised that the smile stayed on his lips, but then, he was genuinely stoked for his brother. And he couldn’t help but be amazed by—and proud of—Sean’s bravery. After the shitshow that was Sean’s first marriage, there’d been a time when Paul had doubted his brother would ever be able to trust a woman enough again to get serious with her, much less marry her. But anyone who saw the guy with Natalie Richards would have to be blind not to see how fucking crazy they were for each other. And they were good for each other, too.

A little boy’s laughter drew his gaze down to the beach, and his breath seized up in his chest when he caught sight of Karin and Jase holding hands as they walked through the sea foam rolling up onto the sand with the crashing waves. They were dressed in jeans that had the cuffs rolled up and white T-shirts, looking like something out of an advertisement for California living. Looking like…like his goddamn future, if he could just figure out how to earn it. How to deserve it. How to deserve them—and as a searing, white-hot burst of emotion scorched its