It’s been two long years since I’ve been home. Although I can’t return to Lark since that door has closed, Beacon Pointe is calling.

* * *

One suitcase.

My entire life fits in one suitcase, and this stuff has no real value to me. I could have left it behind for the tenant and never thought twice about it.

Finely tailored suits.

Custom Italian shoes.

A laptop and a few souvenirs for my family.

Okay, so there are a few things of value but nothing I can’t live without.

The trip is long, but not so bad when traveling first class. I walk outside the airport to see my brothers standing at the curb with a familiar car behind them. Noah says, “Harbor fucking Westcott is back in action and looking every bit the Italian model.” I chuckle, leaving my suitcase on the sidewalk to give him a hug. “You’re definitely going to be my wingman while you’re in town.” There’s so much wrong, from the back in action to the wingman comment, but it’s good to see him, so I’m not going to get into it at the airport.

We have time for those updates.

I pat him on the back, laughing. “Good to see you, Noah.” I back up and punch his arm. “You got big.”

“I was always big. You just got smaller.” He clicks his tongue.

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, little brother.”

Loch comes over, and we hug it out. He says, “Good to see you, Harbor.”

“You, too. How’s New York treating you?”

“I could use less stress, but someone has to do the heavy lifting for this family.”

He’s not wrong, but what does he want? A gold medal? He’s packing millions in the bank, so I know it’s not a bad payoff. I roll my hand in front of me and lower my head. “From the family, we thank you for your service.”

“You always were a clown.” He tosses the fob high in the air. I grab it and he says, “I assume you want to drive.”

Is that even a question? “Do I want to drive? Fuck yeah, I do.”

The Italian countryside has stunning scenery, but there’s something about returning to your hometown. Maybe it’s nostalgia or maybe the memories. In my case, I’m assuming the former, but nevertheless, it’s good to be back in Beacon.

I’m not fully up the driveway when Marina opens the door and waits on the landing. Shit. She doesn’t look like a kid anymore. “When did our baby sister grow up?”

I glance at Loch as if he’ll have the answers I’m seeking. He says, “I know. Last month, I had a talk with Dad. We were discussing if we need to get a shotgun.”

Noah leans forward and says, “I kicked some guy’s ass a few months back when I took her to a movie. He made some fucking lewd comment . . . Wonder how long it took the nurse to remove the popcorn from his nostrils.”