What Was Meant To Be (Lake Lenora Book 2) by Heather Guerre

Author:Heather Guerre [Guerre, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-08-24T04:00:00+00:00

Rain was sprawled on the couch, watching a documentary about Ching Shih on her phone, mentally constructing a wardrobe for a Qing dynasty pirate queen, when headlights lit up the front window. They cast a bright rectangle of light against the opposite wall that slid slowly across the room as the vehicle turned into the driveway.

Wes was back.

She got up and went to the window, squinting in the darkness at a truck she didn’t recognize. Who was pulling into Wes’s driveway at this time of night? The truck rolled down the driveway, out of view. She scurried over to the kitchen so she could peer out the window there. The truck had stopped in front of the garage, headlights still on. The passenger door swung open, and out came… Wes.

He stumbled slightly, hanging onto the door to steady himself. He waved to whoever was in the driver’s seat, and swung the door shut. Rain watched with a furrowed brow as he came to the kitchen door. Something about him was off. She couldn’t put her finger on it.

He fumbled with his key for a few seconds before he finally got the door unlocked. Inside, he toed his shoes off and started up the short stairway to the kitchen. At the sight of Rain, he startled, nearly toppling backwards down the stairs.

“Jesus Christ!” he wheezed, clutching the railing. “What’re you doing, creeping in the dark like that?”

“I wasn’t creeping,” she said defensively. “I didn’t recognize the truck, so I wasn’t sure who was here.”

“My brother. Noah.” His words weren’t slurred, exactly, but there was a definite fuzziness to his speech.

“Are you alright?” she asked, searching his features for the tense grimace of a migraine.

His gaze snapped to hers, his eyes seeming to glow in the dark like eerie blue flames. His face was rigid, but it didn’t seem like an expression of pain. At least, not physical pain. “Am I alright?” He laughed hollowly. “No, Rainstorm Thuraya. I am not alright.”

He climbed the last step, coming into the kitchen. Rain found herself backing away as Wes crowded closer and closer.

“I haven’t had a solid night’s sleep in over a year. I’m working two full-time jobs—one of which hasn’t paid out a single fucking penny, but owes more money than my life is worth,” he growled. “My family doesn’t give a shit about it, even though it’s our literal goddamn legacy—a legacy that was stolen from us. And to cap it off, I had to sell myself like a blue-ribbon bull in order to secure that fucking legacy!”

Rain put her hand out, grabbing the front of his shirt before he backed her all the way into the cabinets. “Stop,” she said, aware that her tone was clipped and impatient, but too irritated to care.

To her surprise, Wes halted immediately. She felt the heat of his skin through his shirt, felt how rigidly he held himself. She should let go, but she didn’t want to. The side of herself that she always suppressed—the

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