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He moved aside so that she could pass, glaring at Coco when the animal practically jumped into her arms.

“The dog stays here. Last thing Brett needs is to have the little bugger creating havoc in his—”

But she was already out the door with Coco who looked happier than a pig in shit sitting in her arms. His scowl deepened. He’d like nothing more than to carry on with whatever this was, but he decided to take some of his mother’s advice, something that had served him well many times in the political arena.

Pick your battles, and pick ‘em well.

He followed Donovan down the walkway that led to the boathouse and the two of them walked in silence, following the well-worn path through the tall trees that led to Brett’s cottage.

He’d talked to Brett off and on over the last few months, but not once had Brett ever indicated he was this sick. Jack knew that a tumor had been found but he’d assumed it was benign. Brett was like a brother to him, seemed as if he’d know the guy forever, but life had gotten in the way these past few years and he hadn’t seen Brett since Christmas.

Now he wasn’t sure what he was walking into. As they approached the large deck that ran the length of Sabrina and Brett’s cottage, two kids came barreling down the path, screaming and yelling like holy terrors. Harry made a beeline past him, shouting something about juice and the boathouse fridge.

“Uncle Jack! Harry tolded me you were here.” The second child, a little dark haired girl, launched herself at him like a missile and he barely managed to hold onto the wine as she wrapped her little arms around his legs. “Are you gonna drive the boat tomorrow?”

He glanced down at Morgan. Man the little sprite had grown. “Hey princess. What say we talk about that later?”

Her eyes were Brett’s, a deep blue, but the rest of her was all Sabrina. She was as spunky as her brother, but there’d always been a sweetness about her, and Jack felt something tighten inside him as he gazed down at her earnest face.

“But Daddy can’t drive the boat, and Mommy doesn’t know how,” she pleaded. “Pretty please with pink and purple and blue sparkles on top?”

“We’ll get you out on the water,” he said gently, the tension along his shoulders increasing as he heard a door slam above them.

He gazed up at the deck and tried to keep the shock from his face, but he wasn’t sure that he was able to.

Brett Campbell looked sick as hell. His tall body was only a shadow of his former self, the long limbs covered in thick sweats, as if he needed them for comfort and heat. He was bald, though Jack wasn’t sure if it was because he was sick or if he’d just gone ahead and shaved it. He moved slowly, taking his time to cross over to the railing and Sabrina appeared at his side, slipping her arms through his and kissing the side of his face.

Brett smiled down, and it was then that Jack finally saw a glimmer of his old buddy. He cleared his throat and offered a smile of his own, reaching for some kind of normalcy.

The two men stared at each other for several long moments, and then Jack shrugged. “You look like shit.”

Brett laughed. A full-on laugh that lit up his wife’s face. “You look as pretty as ever,” Brett replied before his eyes moved past Jack to Donovan. “And keeping some interesting company. My wife insists we’ve met before, but I don’t think I’d forget that. So nice to meet you Donovan.”

“Likewise,” Donovan answered softly.

Morgan tugged on his leg again. “Is she your girlfriend?” The little eyebrows were drawn together tight. “You tolded me at Christmas that I was your bestest girlfriend.”

Donovan moved past Jack and took a moment to smile down at Morgan. “Don’t worry darlin’, Jack is all yours.” She then marched up the steps with Coco and paused in front of Brett.

“Thanks so much for opening your home to us this evening. I hope you don’t mind that we brought this little critter. He belongs to Jack you know, and Jack just can’t go anywhere without him.”

Brett laughed again. “You’re full of shit.”

“I am,” Donovan answered with a big grin.

Morgan took that moment to tug on Jack’s cargos. “That’s a bad word, isn’t it, Uncle Jack?”

“Sure is,” he replied, eyes on the three adults above him.

“Mommy’s gonna make Daddy put a fiver in the swear jar.”

“Is she now,” Jack said, scooping up his little friend before making his way to the stairs so that he could join everyone else on the deck.

Brett turned and offered his hand and the frailty of him hit Jack like a punch to the gut. He gave his wine to Sabrina, set down his favorite little girl and engulfed his buddy in a hug meant for men. It was quick and hard and jam packed with emotion.

“Glad you’re here,” Brett said, voice gruff.

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “Me too. I would have come sooner if I’d known.”

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