If It's Only Love (Boys of Jackson Harbor 6)

“Please stop.”

“Do you know what I admire most about your father?”

I press my forehead to my knees. I can’t handle this right now—this conversation, this rejection. And if he tries to bring Dad into it, I’m going to fall apart.

“He was there. For all of his kids. For his wife.”

I squeeze my knees tighter, trying to tune him out because his words are bringing the tears back, coaxing them from the pit of my stomach and into my chest where there’s nothing but chaos. I feel myself shaking and pray he can’t see it. Why did I kiss him? Why did I think he’d choose me?

“And when things were falling apart between them, he stayed.”

I whip my head up. My eyes burn and my stomach aches, but those words. “What? What do you mean?”

“You think he and your mom were always happy? You think they didn’t have tough times? They’re human, Shay, and they both made mistakes. And when he thought he was in love with someone else, he didn’t let that keep him from doing the right thing.”

“Dad was never in love with anyone else.”

“Ann, his administrative assistant at the construction company. She was my mom’s best friend and told Mom everything. They were in love, but your dad didn’t want to tear apart your family. He sold the whole company to prove to your mom he wanted to start over.”

“No. You misunderstood.” I shake my head and scoot toward the ladder. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He wanted you all to stay together. Frank knew his kids needed to have both of their parents all the time. That’s what I want for Abi.”

“Shut up.” I don’t bother to wipe away my tears. I have to get away from here—away from his poisonous words—as fast as I can. I race down and slip on the last rung. Pain is a hot spike driving up my leg and radiating out around my ankle.

I fall to the ground, clutching my ankle, and roll to the side.

Easton is next to me in a flash. “Shay, look at me. Tell me what hurts.”

I must have screamed when I landed, because I hear the soft thud of feet coming across grass from the house. “Is she okay?” It’s Carter. “Shay, what’s wrong? Is it your ankle?”

It’s my heart. “I landed wrong,” I say, avoiding Easton’s gaze, even though I feel it on me so intensely it burns.

“Here, let me help you up.” Carter slides a hand under my shoulder and hauls me to my feet. I gasp the second I try to put weight on the bad ankle. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“No. I just need ice. I’m fine.”

Easton goes to the side opposite Carter. I don’t want Carter to ask questions, so I don’t deny his help.

Carter asks anyway. “What were you two doing up there?” Ever the protective big brother.

“Just talking,” Easton says. He reaches forward to open the door, and I hobble inside, letting them half carry me to the couch. “I’ll grab some ice,” he says when I sit, then he disappears in a rush to the kitchen.

Carter reaches around me to pull the lever on the reclining sofa to elevate my feet.

“What happened?” Jake asks.

“She fell out of the treehouse,” Carter says.

I smack my brother’s arm. “I didn’t fall out. I missed a couple of rungs on the ladder and landed wrong.” The sharp pain has subsided to a dull, throbbing ache. “It’s just twisted. I’ll be fine.”

Easton returns with a bag of ice and apology all over his face. His eyes are hazy. He’s drunk. He probably didn’t have any idea what he was talking about before. My dad has never loved anyone but my mom. He wouldn’t—

My stomach lurches. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Jake grabs an empty popcorn bowl off the end table and shoves it in front of me before the three beers I’ve had tonight rise from my throat and splash into the bowl in a nasty cocktail of alcohol and stomach acid.

“I’m so sorry, Shay,” Easton says. I can’t look at him.

Carter tenses beside me and throws an angry glare in his direction. “What did you do? You made a pass at her up there, didn’t you? You fucker. Didn’t you just tell me that you’re trying to work things out with Scarlett?”

“Stop it,” I say, but the words are wrapped in a sob I can’t hold back. He’s working things out with his wife. And dear God, that hurts, but nothing feels right in a world where what he said about Dad is true. “When he fell in love with someone else . . .”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t need to go to the ER?” Carter asks.

I’m not okay. But there’s nothing in the emergency room that can fix me.