Free The Other Brother by Lucy Felthouse Page B

risks of, course, when they’d gotten together—he’d already been serving by that point—but knowledge didn’t make it any easier. Losing him had been unfair, so disgustingly unfair. They’d had their whole lives ahead of them. It had been a needless death, too—even more needless than the usual casualties of war. Friendly fire.
    Friendly. Fucking. Fire.
    The only saving grace was that there’d been hardly any time for him to feel pain, his death happened so quickly.
    “Melodie? Are you all right? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Setting his mug down, he perched on the arm of her chair and slipped a hand around her shoulders.
    As she glanced up at him, sudden, violent tears blurred her vision. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Not at all. I still think about him all the time. Miss him all the time.” She sniffed and swiped the back of her hand across her eyes. “I do my best to keep busy, stay occupied, but it’s only a temporary respite. I go to sleep thinking of him, dream about him, wake up thinking of him. I’m like a woman obsessed, except I’m obsessed with a dead man.”
    “Christ, Melodie.” Patrick squeezed tighter and rested his chin on her head. “I don’t know what the fuck to say, because I know for a fact nothing will help.”
    In lieu of a reply, she leaned into his chest, not caring that she smeared tears over his beautiful suit. She was grateful for his presence. A familiar face, he knew what she'd gone through, what she struggled with. After emerging from the initial shock of Sean’s death and coming to the conclusion she still couldn’t handle it, not even close, she’d been desperate to get away.
    She bunched her hands around the lapels of his suit and figured perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to run after all. Yes, permanent reminders of Sean no longer surrounded her, but she’d also torn away from the people who loved her, would support her and do their best to care for her. People who understood.
    Perhaps, then, Patrick’s relocation to New York would benefit her. He might be a reminder—a flesh and blood reminder—but also a friend, and a good man. They’d both lost someone they loved deeply. Without a doubt, he’d support her, and she’d do her best to help him, too.

 
     
     
Chapter Two
     
     
    Melodie awoke with a start. Dreaming again. But, for the first time in two years, her unconscious hadn’t tormented her with images of Sean. This time, her sleeping thoughts featured Patrick.
    Brushing a hand over her face, she hoped to wipe the images away. Although they hadn’t been  of a sexual nature. Thank God because she hadn’t expected Patrick to appear in them at all. The dream hadn’t been all that shocking, not really. She’d seen him the previous day for the first time in ages. Of course, that’s why she’d dreamt about him.
    He’d been shirtless .
    Her jaw dropped before her brain supplied the obvious reason for that. He could be the model for the calendar!   She’d given up on the idea of contributing any photographs for it because she didn’t know an eligible male—but now she did. Even a nun could appreciate his striking looks. Dark hair, piercing eyes, devilish smile…he surely turned female heads everywhere he went. Probably some male ones, too. But straight-as-an-arrow Patrick with a man? Ludicrous. Coming home from college for the holidays, he’d brought a different girl with him each time, until his poor parents had trouble keeping up with all the names. So had she and Sean, for that matter.
    Sean had unintentionally gotten Patrick into trouble after calling his latest squeeze by the wrong name. It’d been hairy for awhile, but Patrick, with all his charms, talked her around.
    Yes, he would be ideal for the calendar. And when she told him which charity it would benefit, she had no doubt he’d be eager to get involved. She’d give him a call in the morning. Checking the clock beside her bed, she saw it was