Free The Comeback (BWWM Interracial Romance Book 7) by Elena Brown

them. Brenton knew that Amber was in the studio; she was spending more and more time there, and a sneaking, creeping suggestion in the back of his mind pointed out that David Underhill, the producer for her new album in progress, was not a bad-looking man.
    Brenton knew Amber well enough to know that she would never cheat on him; but he couldn’t blame her if she considered him a rebound after Kobe. He remembered just how hurt she had been by the man who had cheated on her—she would never do that to him, but Brenton would not be surprised if she broke up with him to be with the brilliant producer who was helping her to reinvigorate her career.
    Brenton shook the thought and shut off the ignition, taking a deep breath and opening the door of his car. He stepped onto the gravel driveway and looked around him. Chris’ house was always so comfortable—and his friend, who had been in his unit, had left the military a few years ahead of him with the skills and experience needed to live comfortably as a civilian with his wife. At first, Brenton had had more than a little envy; Chris had the happy family life that Brent had wanted from the time his parents had broken up: a wife that loved him, in-laws who thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread, and three well-behaved, healthy kids that he got to spend plenty of time with. But his friendship had outlasted the envy, and Brenton had come to depend on his former brother-in-arms for advice and guidance in more than just adapting to the post-military world.
    “Uncle Brent is here!” Lucy, the eldest of Chris’ children, called into the house from the porch where she was playing with paints. A year and a half older than his own daughter, Lucy was an engaging, bright, beautiful child: she had Chris’ tow-head blonde hair, her mother’s blue eyes, and a combination of their personalities. Brent picked her up happily and gave her a big hug, depositing her back in her spot on the floor of the porch before heading to the door.
    Chris was a few steps away, crossing the living room with two beers in hand—Lone Stars, of course. It was something they had shared a taste for when they were far from home, a taste of Texas. “You should’ve brought Felicity with you,” Chris said, gesturing to the other two of his children: Jaime, his son, who was the same age as Brenton’s daughter, was playing with blocks in front of the TV, and Jackie, the baby—barely a year old, was sitting with the look in her eyes that said she was about to make another unsteady foray into walking to go after something she wanted.
    Brenton cracked his beer and took a long sip. “Her grandparents wanted her,” he said simply. Chris held his gaze for a long moment before nodding his understanding.
    “It’s a real shame your mom doesn’t have her more often,” Brenton’s mother had remarried while he was in the military, and she was more involved with her new step-children and her new husband than she was with Brenton or his daughter. His father lived on the east coast, apparently happier to be away from the family altogether. Brenton got the occasional email from the man, but mostly they gave each other space.
    “I think she wants to pretend like the past didn’t happen, and I’m a bad reminder of it,” Brenton told his friend, as he sat down on the couch to watch the two youngest children playing. He wished he could have brought Felicity as well; but his in-laws had suggested that he was going to be driving drunk, and insisted that if he didn’t bring his daughter to their place, they would call the cops, or have him investigated. It hadn’t been worth calling their bluff, even if Brenton would never even remotely consider driving drunk whether or not Felicity was in the car. A couple of beers, a meal with Chris and his family, and he would head home sober.
    “So what brings you for dinner?” Chris asked. “I mean, I know I make the best barbecue you’ve ever put in your mouth but I