She’d been wearing a different outfit from the one he’d seen her in before, now a pencil skirt and a sleeveless blouse. Not looking pale and green, not throwing up…Instead, she’d had her hair twisted up on top of her head, with a few long, wispy strands falling out. There was a flush to her cheeks, and her lips were shiny. Her pretty green eyes were behind a set of reading glasses, and the overall look screamed sweet, cautious, reserved librarian.
It was a look he’d never given much thought to, but suddenly it was sexier than hell. Especially when he added in the slight Southern accent he detected every time she got sassy, which around him seemed to be a constant.
He was thinking about that and smiling a little because she’d pretty much yelled at him, and it’d been a damn long time since he’d been called out like that. In his world, people respected him, feared him, avoided him…They most definitely did not put their finger in his face like a schoolteacher and take him to task.
His smile faded quickly enough when he remembered why he was here—to visit his mom. From there he’d figure out how to see Hud.
But then he turned the corner and came face-to-face with him.
Once upon a time they’d been mirror images, exact replicas of each other while also being opposites. Hudson was right-handed, and he was a southpaw. Hud’s cowlick was on the right, Jacob’s on the left. Hud reacted with his emotions, Jacob with his brain.
Except for the one time he hadn’t.
The fight with Hud had been the worst day of his life, and that was saying something, as there’d been a few doozies before and since. But that day they’d each said things, and Jacob had no idea how to make it right again.
They’d grown up hard and fast. Carrie, their mom, had been a sweet but troubled eighteen-year-old whom their father had taken advantage of one night. Later they’d find out that Richard Kincaid was something of a serial sperm donor. And that monogamy wasn’t a word he knew the definition of.
So growing up, it’d been just Hud, Jacob, and Carrie, raising each other. Actually, Hud and Jacob had raised themselves while doing the best they could to raise their mom too. But when they’d turned twelve, Carrie had fallen apart completely, leaving her unable to hold a job.
Jacob and Hud had done everything they could, working when they could get jobs, conning when they couldn’t, but eventually they hadn’t been able to keep a roof over their heads anymore and had landed here in Cedar Ridge, thanks to the generosity of Char Kincaid.
Char had been another of Richard Kincaid’s rejects. She’d had two boys with the guy, Gray and Aidan, both a few years older than Hud and Jacob.
All of that had meant that once they’d landed here in Cedar Ridge, for the first time in their lives, they’d had a support system. Family. Carrie had been nearby in the home, and they’d had a roof over their heads and three squares a day.
And though he and Hud had taken an oath to leave together the moment they turned eighteen, to go off and explore the world and be all the other needed, Hud had taken to Cedar Ridge and their newfound siblings like a fish to water.
Jacob had tried. Or maybe he hadn’t. What he for sure had done was carry his resentment and anger over his father’s abandonment and the frustration of his mom’s health in the form of a huge chip on his shoulder. He’d been a punk-ass kid who’d deserved to get kicked out.
Instead, Char had been sweet and kind and mothering. Aidan and Gray had ignored his dick-ness. They’d treated him and Hud better than they’d ever been treated before. So had Kenna, their baby sister—from yet another woman of their father’s—who’d come to Cedar Ridge shortly after Hud and Jacob.
And yet still, when graduation had come, Jacob had packed as he and Hud had always planned.
Only Hud had steadfastly refused to leave.
When Jacob had insisted, Hud had let loose of his rare temper and said that if Jacob wanted to go, then he should. But if he did, they were no longer brothers.
Jacob’s eighteen-year-old bluster and ego had kicked in hard at that ultimatum, and he’d walked, breaking up the tightest bond he’d ever had with another living soul.
He’d gone into the army. In boot camp, he’d met Brett, who’d lost his family to a drunk driver. Very different from losing a family due to pride and stupidity. But the two of them had been each other’s support system and family through basic training, specialized weapons training, and several tours of duty.
And then Brett had died in a stupid roadside bombing they’d never seen coming. That’s when the “no man left behind” mantra had hit him hard. Really hard. He’d never have walked away from Brett, and yet he’d done just that to Hud.
He hated himself for it.
Which was the biggest reason he was here. He’d been wrong and had to tell Hud that. Had to tell everyone. He had no idea if he’d even be welcomed. But blood or not, family was family—or so he hoped. And he had to do right by his.
When he’d walked away all those years ago, he’d been a self-righteous, selfish prick. He didn’t want to be that guy anymore. He had no idea what kind of a man he’d be instead, but it was past time to find out.