Page 3

Like he was huddled on the couch now.

He stared at the boy.

I wish the ranch was real.

He grabbed the phone he’d tossed on the chair he’d vacated to take this spot closer to his son. Glanced at the time. Five a.m. here. That would make it seven a.m. for Tris. Which would mean she’d probably been up for at least an hour, probably more. She hadn’t slept well since David’s death.

And you didn’t understand . . . then.

But he did now. And so would Tris.

He stared unseeingly at the phone. He knew what would happen if he did this. He’d be screwing over the crew, which he hated. He’d be aggravating the producers, including Miles, but also Felix, which he hated a little less. The arrogant jerk deserved a bit of aggravation. He’d probably go after him legally, eventually, so there was that. He also might be killing the show altogether, and he didn’t like that either.

But he loved his son.

He made the call.

Chapter Two

“You did what?”

Finished pouring her own glass of wine, Trista offered him one, but he shook his head. “You put the fear of alcohol in me for good with that video.”

“That was the plan,” she said.

“Testing me?”

“Part of my job as the big sister.”

She instead got him a bottle of sweet tea from the fridge and handed it over.

“Now,” she said, “back to my question. You did what?”

He studied the bottle in his hands. “I walked out.”

“Let me be clear on this. You quit the show?”

“That’s up to them. I just told them I was leaving, and I didn’t know when I’d be back.”

“You walked away from the biggest television show in the country and half the world, the show that made you? That won you all those awards that clutter up your bookshelves?”

His head came up. “I thought you hated it.”

“I hate how fake the Texas parts are,” she corrected. “I love your success. You deserve it, bro. You’re really good.” She gave him a crooked grin. “I never really realized before how good you were, until you had me forgetting you were my brother, not this guy who doesn’t exist.”

He gave a half shrug. “He’s a lot tougher than I am.”

“But you make it believable.” She studied him for a long, silent moment before saying, “You know most of the world will think you’re crazy, walking away from a show that big.”

He met her gaze, looked into her familiar, always loving eyes. Eyes so like his own, the deep blue of their father. It had been a standing mock argument in their family when they were growing up, whether the eyes looked better with his dark hair or her auburn. Each of them had always voted for the other.

“I had to leave, Tris. I was losing Jeremy. He’s more important than anything else.”

Her eyes took on a sudden sheen, and she blinked rapidly a couple of times. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

He knew she understood. She and David had not, sadly, had any children, but she understood. “He makes it all both better and worse, doesn’t he?” she asked softly.

He remembered his own earlier thought. Leave it to his brilliant sister to distill it down to the essence. “Yes.”