And Then Forever Read Online Free PDF Page B

let me do it.” His sister slipped into the tiny room, her belly taking up half the available space. She held his hand under cool running water, dabbed it dry with a towel, then pressed a bandage into place. “I have to say, the Scooby Doo is most masculine.”
    He grinned. “Thanks. I’m going for the wounded and vulnerable alpha male look.”
    Abby stepped back, put a finger to her lip, and studied him. “I see annoying older brother.”
    “Hey, this annoying older brother is building you that crib from hell. And putting up with your annoying little sister self.”
    Abby gave him a smug grin, then spun on her heel. “You love me and you know it.”
    Kincaid chuckled softly, headed back into the nursery and finished up the crib assembly. When it was done, and set in the place where the sunset would drop over it at the end of the day, Kincaid went to get his sister. She had fallen asleep on the couch, her face peaceful and content, a knitted afghan tucked under her chin. He didn’t have the heart to wake her, so he slipped out the door.
    A crushed shell path curved around the back of the cabin, leading through a long line of trees and ferns, then yielding to sandy soil that spilled out toward the golden shore of the beach. The ocean air whispered over him like a cool, light blanket. Kincaid paused, inhaled deeply. For the first time in forever, he didn’t have to be anywhere but here.
    In New York, there was undoubtedly a crazy flurry of people wondering where the hell he was. If Edgar Foster hadn’t called out the bloodhounds yet, he would soon. At some point, Kincaid needed to deal with all that.
    But this was not that time. Kincaid kicked off his shoes, rolled up his jeans, and strode down the sandy path. His feet sank into the cool white grains, covering his toes, as if the beach was swallowing him an inch at a time.
    Maybe here he could finally find some time to write again. He hadn’t written anything that wasn’t related to the law in a long, long while. The itch to get his hands on the keyboard, to create something, was building in Kincaid. For now, though, he was going to concentrate on his sister, and make sure she was situated.
    In the distance, he saw a lone figure, jogging down the beach in a bright pink top and black shorts. Even from a distance, even after all these years, he’d know Darcy anywhere. His chest tightened, and his pulse quickened. He watched her long legs stride down the sand: firm, muscular, sexy.
    He wanted to grab her, lift her to his waist and sink into her, feel her clasp those endless legs around him, her breasts crushed to his chest, hearing her breathing quicken in his ear, feel her tighten against him. He knew the sounds she would make when his rhythm matched hers, knew the way she would cry out his name and arch into him, knew the glorious feeling of being inside Darcy. Of all the women he had been with, none had been as unguarded in the bedroom as Darcy. And none had been as memorable as her. When he fantasized, it was about the wild woman with the untamed blonde curls who had turned his life upside down all those years ago.
    She slowed her pace when she saw him, and for a second, he thought she was going to run right past him. At the last second, she stopped, tugged an earbud out of her ear, and let it dangle on her shoulder. He could hear AC/DC pouring out of the tiny speakers, the same hard rock she’d listened to years ago. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. Sexy.
    “Why are you here?” she asked.
    Well, so much for a friendly preamble. “I’m spending some time on the island.” Not exactly the truth, but not exactly a lie either.
    Frustration pursed her lips. “How much time?”
    “Nice to see you, too, Darcy. How have you been? How’s life been treating you?”
    She scowled. “You act like we’re friends, Kincaid.”
    “And we aren’t? After everything?”
    She shook her head and scoffed. “Really? You think we should be friends? What, send