Free The Closer by Rhonda Nelson Page B

very least send some support to Anne-Marie.” She shook her head, her gaze turning inward. “But he wouldn’t do it. You know how your father is.”
    Yes, he did. He was a shitty husband, and an even shittier father.
    Maybe that’s why it was so important for him to get to know Griff, so that he could show his brother that he wasn’t like their father, that he’d been worth saving, that he’d been worthy of the sacrifice he’d made for him.
    That it wasn’t his fault.
    And as far as big brothers went, Griff was definitely the jackpot. He’d been an army ranger, for heaven’s sake. A straight-up badass. He was brilliant, tough and above all else, steady. If he said he would do something, then he did it and, after living with a man who broke promises faster than he made them for the better part of his life, Justin had to admit, he found that quality the most admirable of all.
    Though Griff wasn’t on Facebook, Glory was, and Justin had pored over her page, looked at all the posts and pictures, several of which had included Griff. Glory often talked about him, about how wonderful he was, even called him her “rock.”
    To be fair, his mother had always been his rock, the one person he could count on, so he didn’t necessarily need one of those...but a brother would be nice. And a sister, too, of course, though admittedly he felt closer to Griff. How could he not, given the surgery? Given the fact that Griff had saved his life?
    â€œYou hungry?” his mother asked, snagging his attention with the subject change.
    He was, actually. He lifted a hopeful brow. “Do we have any tuna?”
    She blinked, seemingly astonished, then laughed. “Tuna? Since when do you eat tuna? You’ve never been able to stand the smell, much less eat it.”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “I’ve just got a craving for it.” He’d had a few others as well, like carrot cake when his favorite had always been red velvet. It was odd.
    â€œAll right, then. How about I make you a sandwich?”
    Justin aimed a hopeful smile at her. “How about you make a casserole so there’s enough for both of us?” She needed to eat as well and he intended to make her match him bite for bite.
    She stood, a ghost of a grin on her lips. “Casserole it is, then.” She walked to the door, then paused and turned around to look at him. “Keep checking in on Griff,” she said. “It had to be hard for him, hearing from your father after so many years, but you’re not his father—you’re his brother—and I’m sure he’ll come around.”
    Then she obviously knew more than he did, Justin thought, because he wasn’t nearly as certain.
    One could hope, though, and he did. He really, really did.
    * * *
    T HOUGH SHE ’ D NEVER admit it, Jess was actually mildly relieved that Griff was the one behind the wheel as they drew closer and closer to the city. Traffic was a snarled-up mess, lanes were only used as suggestions and she’d seen more single-finger salutes this morning than she could ever recall. She inwardly shook her head. Insane. She cast a glance at her driver—razor-sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, auburn curls—and felt heat bloom beneath her skin, concentrate in her nipples, as desire slammed into her once again.
    You’d think at this point she’d be used to it, Jess thought, that prolonged exposure would lessen the reaction, but...no. If anything, heaven help her, it was worse.
    How could it not be after last night?
    Hour after hour of listening to him breathe, the faintest rustle of sheets when he’d move, and there’d been something particularly stirring—intimate, even—seeing his long muscular leg slung out from beneath the duvet this morning. Of course, if she hadn’t drooled at the sight of his bare chest last night when he’d walked out of the