by Nia Arthurs
Guilt flooded her. A part of loving someone was wanting them to be happy, no matter what. Luke turning his back on his parents would be hard and definitely wouldn’t make him happy. “I know, but…”
“Ash,” he leaned closer, “I choose you.”
She sucked her protests back into her mouth and said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He tilted his head. “I mean it. No more crying over what they say.”
“I didn’t cry,” she grumbled.
He smiled, his eyes lighting up from the inside. He took a step back. “You should head inside before your dad wakes up.”
“Mm.” Ashanti held onto his hand and pushed out her bottom lip. “I don’t want you to go.”
He mimicked her expression, pushing out his lip and blinking rapidly. “Me either.”
“I change my mind.” She let his hand go.
“Why?”
“Don’t ever make that face again. It ruins the mood.”
Luke laughed. “I’ll see you later.”
“Bye.” She wiggled her fingers and watched him while he got into his car and drove away.
Ashanti hated that Luke was losing so much because of her. Hated that she couldn’t give him every single thing he wanted. But he had made up his mind to love her, and she knew first hand… when Luke Zhang set his foot down, there was no one strong enough to move him.
Ashanti smiled despite herself. That… that right there made her want to love him more.
A few days later, Luke invited her to hang out with his cousins again, this time at James’s place instead of the bar they’d met last time.
“Here,” Luke said, dangling a grape between his fingers.
Ashanti eased up and snatched the fruit between her teeth, her eyes on him as she did so. The cousins were staring at them with various degrees of disgust, but Luke and Ashanti were completely oblivious.
Something rattled and Ashanti glanced over. It was Weng, slamming his beer back on the table. “Would you two stop it? Some of us are single here.”
“I’m not!” Harold raised his hand.
“I don’t mind.” James shrugged before taking a swig of his drink.
“What?” Weng’s bravado faltered. “It’s just me?”
“Sorry.” Ashanti scooted away from Luke and smiled at the guys. “We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Weng.”
“But it’s not fair,” Weng whined. “Why did you two get together? I thought you were into Michelle!”
Luke shot him a glare. “Really, man?”
“The kid’s out of the loop.” James cuffed Weng in the back of his head.
The teenager glared at his older cousin. “I can sue you for that.”
“Try. I’m a lawyer. I’ll get myself out.”
Ashanti chuckled and raised her own glass. “I heard you two were responsible for getting us together. I know it’s been a while, but I still want to thank you.”
“No problem.” James tipped his beer toward her.
“Enjoy this lovey-dovey season. Soon, the person you thought you could never get enough of won’t go away. Ever. And you’ll wish you were single.”
“I don’t think so.” Luke and Ashanti said together.
“Ugh,” Weng spit.
James laughed.
Ashanti commented on Weng’s strange behavior in the taxi that night as Luke dropped her home. “You don’t think he was being extra weird?”
“Who? Weng?” Luke asked, fiddling on his phone. “He’s a moody teenager. He was just living up to that.”
“You’re right.”
Luke threw his arms around her and brought her closer. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s been a month since we started dating. You tired of me yet?”
“No.”
“You sure.”
“Ask me that question next month or next year or the next ten years and I’ll have the same answer. I love you, Luke. And I’m never, ever letting you go.”
“Good.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, running his thumb up her arm soothingly.
Luke wasn’t the type of guy who declared his love everyday, but Ashanti knew that was a part of his personality and culture. In all the ways that counted, Luke Zhang was hopelessly in love with her and, in the end, that was all that mattered.
Epilogue
“WHERE ARE YOU?”
“I’m driving past Marine Parade, Ash. I can basically see your house from here. Would you calm down?”
“I AM CALM!”
“Of course you are.” Luke yanked the steering wheel as he turned the curb like a racecar driver. “How did you bust your kitchen pipe again?”
“Okay, first of all, I resent that. It’s obviously the plumber’s fault for not fixing it right the first time. Second of all, you can scold me all you want later, but Dad was already a nervous wreck when he left to pick up his girlfriend from the airport and if he comes back to a flooded house, he’ll have a heart attack.”
He spotted the red-trimmed roof of Ashanti’s bungalow and parked the car in her cobbled driveway. “I’m here.”
“Thank God.”
Luke hung up and threw his car door open. He raced up the stairs. The wind chimes hanging on Ashanti’s porch provided the perfect, frantic soundtrack to his urgency.
The front door flew open and Ashanti appeared, chest heaving and black curls wild about her face. She wore a blue dress that hugged her body and showed off her long, brown legs.
Luke’s sharp brown eyes dipped over her as he skidded to a stop. “Whoa.”
“What?”
“You’re,” Luke breathed hard because the sight of Ashanti generally took his breath away, “gorgeous.”
She grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. “That’s nice. Now can you fix the pipe? I already put dad’s toolbox on the table.”
He frowned at the water gushing from the sink. It was already beginning to skid over the sides. “My clothes will get wet!”
“I like seeing you without them so that doesn’t bother me,” Ashanti said glibly. “Now… the faucet? Please?”
Luke scowled and folded the sleeves of his fancy white shirt. He approached the pipe with a wrench, grumbling—“You were the one who told me to dress up in the first place.”
Ten minutes later, he’d whipped up a temporary solution and helped Ashanti dry the bit of water that had fallen to the floor.
When they were done, she pushed her hair up and grinned. “Thanks, Luke. I was freaking out so much when the faucet came off in my hand.”
He grabbed a towel and ran it through his hair. The water had spurted into his face and soaked the front of his shirt earlier. “I don’t want your empty words. Pay up.”
Ashanti stepped closer and kissed him. When she moved away, he thrust her back to him and kissed her deeply. This time, she kept her eyes closed, visibly trying to recover.
“Luke…” She moaned.
He delighted in the sound. “What?”
Ashanti stepped back and ran a hand down her dress. He saw patches of wet stains and realized that he’d transferred the water in his clothes to her. Ashanti’s eyes widened as she came to that very same realization. “Do you know how long it took me to find this dress?”
“Sorry.” He winced.
Ashanti whirled away and rushed to her room. “Honestly, the next time I go shopping I’m dragging you with me.”
“Come on. Don’t be like that.”
“Dad wants to marry some international woman we barely even know and now I’m either going to look like a wet doll when we meet or…”
Her voice filtered in the background as Luke leaned against the doorway to her bedroom and admired her.
Ashanti continued to berate him and Luke’s smile grew wider. Somehow, their romantic connection hadn’t overshadowed their friendship and there were moments when it seemed to Luke that they squabbled more now that they were dating.
But at the end of the day, Luke wouldn’t trade his relationship wit
h Ashanti for anything.
Love was a choice.
And Luke Zhang chose her.
Every. Single. Time.
THE END
A Word From The Author
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Other Books by this Author
The Taming Series
Taming Mr. Jerkface
Taming Mr. Charming
Taming Mr. Know-it-all
Taming Mr. Darcy
The Seven Realms Series
Genesis
Revelations
The Tree of Knowledge (coming soon)
Love & Reggae
Amid the Noise
Count Me In
Buffalo Soldier
Confessions of A Church Girl
Glass Houses
Fitting In
Standing Out
Standalone
Whiter Than Snow
Married By Science
Tsea
Fool Me Never
Audrey’s Choice
Scarlet
From the Stars
River’s Journey
That Was Then
Energy
Becoming Rachel
Desperate for a Date
Something New
Love In Many Shades Series
Cece & David
Cece & David 2
Cece & David 3
Cece & David 4
Boyfriend By Series
Boyfriend By Blackmail
Boyfriend By Midnight
Boyfriend By Design
Lovesick Series
Play
Dance
Trust
Sneak Peek
THE GOOD BROTHER
My brother died tonight.
They say the good ones always go first.
Thing is… Harry didn’t just leave me with sorrow and regret. He left me with his daughter.
Thanks to my old man, the last thing I’ve ever wanted to be is a father. Now that choice isn’t mine to make.
Read on for an excerpt.
Chapter 1
Ben
“I’m sorry. Say that again?” I reach over the nightstand and fumble around until I hit the metal surface of my lamp. Soft golden light bursts into the darkness.
“Mm…” The woman lying next to me rolls over on her side. Her brown eyes fasten on my face. “What’s going on?”
I gesture for her to go back to sleep and swing my legs over the bed. The filmy white sheets fall off and dangle against the mattress. I stride to the other end of the room, my cellphone secure against my ear. The floor is cold. I wrap one hand around my naked chest to warm up.
“Isn’t this Mr. Duncan? Harry’s brother?”
I stiffen. “How do you know my brother?”
“My name is Lydia Stuart.” She takes a long breath. “I’m very sorry to say this.”
My fingers dig into the metal sides of the cellphone. My pulse speeds up, pumping unease into my stomach. “Did something happen?”
“There’s been an accident.” She pauses. Gives me the chance to let that sink in. “Mr. Duncan, how soon can you book a flight to Belize?”
My fingers loosen. The phone clatters to the ground. I slam to my knees and scoop it back up. My hands are trembling. It’s a struggle to keep them steady. One glance at the screen says the call has ended.
I wait for Lydia Stuart to call back.
She doesn’t.
I stumble back to bed and toss my cellphone on the dresser. My gaze scans the expanse of the apartment—the outline of the kitchen filled with stainless steel appliances, the television overlooking the plush sofas. My mind struggles to accept Lydia Stuart’s words.
“Benjamin.” A hand lands on my back. Soft fingers. A patient touch. She’s Ashley or Tiffany or Britney. Her name didn’t matter when we locked eyes at the club tonight. Didn’t matter when I took her back home.
She was a nice rack and a great time. My checklist is shallow and she ticked every box. But hooking up with someone isn’t an agreement to act as their therapist, and I’m embarrassed that I can’t hide how freaked out I am.
“Benjamin?” she says my name again in that soft, gentle tone that tempts me to share.
I swallow. “My brother…”
She sits up, blonde hair sweeping over her naked chest. Her brown eyes fill with genuine concern. “What?”
“He was in an accident.”
She scoots out of bed and starts to dress. “What hospital is he at?”
“Don’t know.”
She stops and hesitantly offers. “Do you need me to drive you?”
“No.”
“Okay.” She sounds slightly disappointed.
“He’s not here.”
“Not here in the state?”
“The country.”
She tilts her chin, puzzled. “Where is he then?”
My mind whirs. I can barely get the word out. “Belize.”
“Belize? As in the little country in Central America? That Belize?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d he end up there?”
I rake a hand through my hair. There’s the million-dollar question.
“Do you want me to stay with you?”
“No.” The answer is abrupt. Impolite. Hurt parades across her pretty face. She’s being a decent human being, and I feel bad for not at least getting her name.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I grab her purse and hand it to her, avoiding her eyes. “Thanks.”
“For what?” Her eyes narrow.
There’s only one right answer. “For everything.”
She bites on her thin pink lips and studies me, head tilted. She’s back in the tight red dress that caught my eye earlier this evening. A moment passes. Two.
Just when I wonder if she’ll ever leave, my guest offers a small smile. “Good night, Benjamin. I hope your brother’s okay.”
I let out a breath of relief. She’s not assuming we’ll meet again, which has been an unfortunate side effect of my most recent one-night stands. I respect that and, if Harry wasn’t weighing so heavily on my mind, I would have gotten her number.
Instead, I watch her walk out and then scramble for my laptop to book a ticket to Belize. The earliest flight leaves at seven. I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It’s three a.m. now. Those few hours will feel like days.
What if I’m too late?
No, I can’t think like that. There’s nothing I can do except wait. My fingers still above the keyboard after the confirmation message slides into my inbox.
Should I tell Dad?
I chew on a fingernail. Dad’s face will probably stress Harry rather than help him, but it’s not like I can keep our father out of the loop. Even if they’ve got bad blood, we’re still family.
I dial Dad’s number. Listen to it ring. It’s so damn cold, but I’m numb with fear. Lydia Stuart fed me with crumbs of information. The picture I’m painting in my own head is worse than what she offered.
Is Harry dead? Dying?
What kind of accident was it?
Suddenly, there’s a click and then a feminine voice says, “Hello?”
My shoulders straighten. “Lauren?”
“Ben?” Her voice is husky with sleep. “Is that you? Why are you calling so late?”
I open my mouth, but no sound escapes. Lauren’s pretty face pops int
o mind—auburn hair, big green eyes, plump red lips. She was so close to marrying Harry. She broke his heart instead.
This was a bad idea. There’s no way my brother will want Lauren or Dad there while he recovers.
“Nothing.”
“Wait.” Lauren sounds brighter now, as if she’s just realizing what time it is and who I am. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“No.”
“It’s been so long since I heard from you, Ben. Your father—”
“Is he up?”
“No, he’s sleeping. He had a hard day at the hospital.
I wince. “Don’t wake him.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s nothing.”
Lauren pauses a beat. The silence stretching between us is off-putting. Finally she whispers, “Ten years is a long time to avoid someone.”
I have a feeling she’s not talking about me. “Come on, Lauren.”
“Harry… is he okay?”
“I don’t know.”
“I should call him. Make up for what I did—”
“It’s better you didn’t.”
“Have you spoken to him lately, Ben?”
“Why?”
“I… had a weird dream the other day.” She sighs.
“What kind of dream?” I lean forward.
“It doesn’t matter. Just… let me know when you hear from Harry, okay? Tell him we’re worried about him and it’s time we move on.”
“I’ll think about it.” I hang up.
The buzz of the refrigerator is the only sound that dares to dispel the quiet. Troubled, I pull on a hoodie and pack a small duffel bag to take on my trip. My fingers fly past my parkas to the T-shirts hidden at the back of the wardrobe.
Harry and I spoke a few times, and he always applauded Belize’s balmy temperatures. I have no idea how a guy who loved the snow ended up in a tropical country, but Harry seemed satisfied and I was happy for him.
At least he was moving on.