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I tilt my head, resting it on his shoulder. “How surreal this feels.”
He presses a kiss to the top of my head and pulls me in closer, like he understands exactly what I mean. I close my eyes, holding him, and let myself feel this beautiful thing we’ve built in the aftermath. It’s not perfect. It’s not polished. But it’s ours.
I no longer feel like I’m dreaming. No, I’ve finally woken up.
34
BRODY
ONE WEEK LATER
The city slides past my window in a blur, and the sun is already sinking low enough to cast everything in shadow. My driver picked me up ten minutes ago and is taking me across town. I tap my thumb against my thigh at the red light, not because I’m impatient, but because my nerves are starting to settle in places I can’t shake loose. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything like this.
I’ve been shot at, thrown into hand-to-hand combat with psychopaths, gone to war—and still, none of it feels as heavy as what I’m about to do. It’s not fear. It’s knowing that Harper deserves every ounce of intention I can give her. That means doing things the right way, not just for her, but for the people who matter to her. The ones who protected her when she didn’t have a voice.
The bar Zane picked is tucked at the end of a narrow street downtown, half hidden behind ivy-covered brick and a matte-black door with no sign. It’s understated and extremely private. It’s the kind of place where real conversations happen.
I walk in and spot her older brother—CEO of Xander Resorts. He’s the kind of man who makes everyone feel like they’re being unraveled when he’s silent. He’s seated at a booth near the back, already sipping a drink, posture casual but eyes sharp the second they lift and find mine.
I slide into the seat across from him. “Zane.”
“Brody.” He gestures to the server. “Would you like a drink?”
“Just water.”
He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push. The server leaves us alone, and for a beat, neither of us speaks. The silence stretching between us is measured and intentional, like he’s giving me room to prove I’m not afraid of it. It makes me a little nervous, but I thrive in the quiet.
He clears his throat. “You already spoke to my father.”
It’s not a question. I have.
“A few days ago. I wanted his blessing. He gave it willingly,” I tell him.
Zane leans back slightly, fingers tapping the side of his glass. “Then why am I here?”
There’s no accusation in his voice—just that razor-sharp curiosity that comes with being the older brother. The protector.
“Because you didn’t agree with her relationship with Micah. I think your finger is on the pulse, and you know what is best for your sister,” I say simply. “And because it matters to me that you’re not just okay with this.”
His gaze narrows, but he doesn’t respond.
“I didn’t come here because I need your permission. I came because I respect you, and so does Harper. And because if someone were going to ask me for my sister’s hand, if she were still alive, I’d expect the same courtesy.”
That lands with him, and his expression shifts, just slightly, but it’s enough to know I’ve hit the right chord.
Zane swirls the liquid in his glass. “You don’t scare easily.”
“No,” I say, a faint smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. “But I don’t take responsibility lightly either.”
He nods once—a silent acknowledgment—and finally says, “Good.”
Zane doesn’t waste time with small talk. Once my water is in front of me and his drink’s been topped off again, he shifts forward slightly with his dress shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. His forearms are braced on the table. There’s nothing hostile in his posture, but nothing open either. He’s watching me. Calculating. The kind of look he’s honed from years of sitting in board meetings full of people who rule the world.
“Why do you think you’re good enough for my sister?” It’s not said with sarcasm. It’s direct and honest. A challenge that requires clarity.
I expected nothing less. Zane’s a known hard-ass. Always has been.
I meet his steady gaze. “Because she deserves someone who understands exactly what she’s been through and still chooses to show up for her anyway. I’m not here to fix her. I’m here to love her. Every day. Without flinching.”