AllFreeNovel
Share Us
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.
