Downpour (The Griffith Brothers, #2)

by Maggie C. Gates

I didn’t need him to fucking check on her. I would fucking check on her.

She mostly posted pictures of flowers and clouds with little captions about them being the prettiest she had ever seen. A few photos were of her. Those were the prettiest I had ever seen.

I reached up, cupped her chin, and wiped away the tear with my thumb as a low growl slipped from my chest. “Who the fuck did this to you?”

Brooke never woke, and I didn’t sleep. Because for once, I wanted to be awake.

On top of the nightstand was a plastic bag of blue and pink Sweet Tarts.

“I like your tattoos.” His hands stalled on my biceps. “I, uh… I got ‘em for the girls.” I peered over my shoulder. “For Bree and Gracie?” Ray nodded. His touch shifted from simply smearing my skin with lotion to a massage. “I had a few when they were real little. After their mom died, I’d watch the girls for Christian and they’d color my tattoos in with markers. So, I kept getting tattoos. It was our thing. When…” He sighed. “When I’d compete in Houston or Dallas, I’d always come out here for a night or two, and they’d color my tattoos in for good luck.” “You really love them, don’t you?”

“Darkness and light exist together in the same moments. We find it in sunrises and sunsets. It’s the clash that people trek across mountains to experience.”

If I had to choose between you and the sun, it’s you. In every lifetime, you are the most brilliant thing in existence. Your love is blinding and sustaining. I crave your warmth. The incandescence of you is what gives me light when my nature is to seek darkness. In every form that you exist, you are my sun. And I’ll be your moon. I’ll be the light that drives the nightmares away. The glow that soothes. And the calm you seek refuge in. Because you can burn eternally without me. But not me without you.

“You have all of it. Every single thing. You want me? You have me. You want my family? They adore you. You want to be part of this ranch? You’re the best thing about it. You want my last name? It’s yours. I didn’t want to come back here, but now I can’t imagine leaving. So, before those doubts consume you, let me fill your mind with something else. I love you. I fucking love you, Brooke. Nothing—absolutely nothing—will change the fact that you belong here.”