Lowlander Silverback (Gray Back Bears #5)(41)

“I’m barely tipsy,” he argued.

Jake settled the phone into its sling and said, “Perfect timing because your brother is in the parking lot waiting for you.”

“It’s only eight.”

“It’s ten, and Sammy’s has been booked for a private party.”

Layla frowned at the back of her boss’s head as he led Barney toward the door. “What private party?”

If Jake heard her, he ignored her like a champ. Not once did he turn around as he made his way to the door with a stumbling Barney. A stream of customers flooded in around them, and a grin split her face when she saw Willa and Aviana at the helm.

“Mid-week and the Gray Backs are here? Party animals,” Layla teased as she wiped down the sticky bar top where Barney had spilled half his last drink.

“We need tons of shots,” Willa said as she sat on the barstool.

“What’s the occasion?” she asked.

Willa jerked her head toward the door just as Kong ducked under the frame. “You.”

With an uncertain smile, she shook her head, baffled. “Okay, how many shots is a ton?”

Denison and Brighton were now up on stage plugging in their cables, and the rest of the Ashe Crew were trickling in around Kong.

“Enough shots for all the crews and Damon,” Willa said.

Layla’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Damon is going to be here?” As far as she remembered, the gorilla-chomping dragon had never set foot in Sammy’s Bar.

Aviana leaned over, her eyes bright and excited. “Rumor has it he’s coming down from his mountains to party with us.”

Layla blinked hard and whispered, “Wow,” as she began lining up all the clean shot glasses they had.

Layla laughed and chatted as her friends dropped by the bar to say hello. Maybe this was a version of the Shifter Nights she and Jake had discussed. If so, he could’ve warned her, though. She went from a few customers to slammed in seconds. Jake helped her rush to fill glasses, and every time she looked up, Kong was watching her with such adoration in his gaze. He didn’t have to ignore her anymore. One of many changes that had happened in the two months since Fiona’s barbecue.

Now, Kong’s mother, Josephine, and Kirk helped him run the sawmill. Layla had wiggled out of her apartment lease and had moved into Kong’s cabin with the three of them. It was crowded, but anyone with eyes could see it was good for Kong to live near Kirk and Josephine. Layla smiled as happy warmth flooded her cheeks. Kong had the best of both worlds now, as he deserved. He was a part of the Gray Back Crew, and he’d secured a family group in Saratoga.

And Fiona would never hurt them again.

Layla called out, “Pass ’em around!” and laughed as she watched the most important people in her life hand out shots through the notes of the Beck Brothers’ song. Her eyes landed on Kong as he wove through the crowd and approached the bar.

His eyes were soft brown and locked on hers. Tall, strong, scarred, and with that hesitant smile tugging at his lips, Layla’s breath froze in her chest with how beautiful he was. When he reached the bar, he set a book on top of it.

She read the title. Heart in the Riptide. It was the last book she’d read to Mac before he died. Layla shook her head, confused.

“Shh!” Willa and some of the others hissed. The shifters settled, and the room went silent except for the soft notes Denison and Brighton played on their guitars.

Kong licked his lips, then lifted his voice. “I only got to meet Mac one time. He made me read this book to him, but near the end of Chapter Sixteen, I couldn’t do it anymore. It hit too close to home. And before I left, he told me that someday, I should read the end of the book.”

Layla bit her trembling lip as her eyes filled with tears. She remembered how the book ended.

Kong pushed the book across the bar top and smiled, his eyes full of emotion.

“Read it!” Creed called across the bar.

“Read it,” the others said.

Layla huffed a thick laugh and nodded. “Okay.”

A few cheered and a few whistled as Kong opened it to the last page of Chapter Sixteen. Wiping her damp lashes to clear her vision, Layla cleared her throat and read. “So many decisions in his life that got him to this exact moment in time would haunt him, but he couldn’t regret the journey. The jagged road he’d taken in his life had led him to a few glorious moments with her. He’d lived more in the last two weeks than he had in the entirety of his forgettable life because he’d known love—the bone-deep kind that changed a man from the inside out. And now…he knew sacrifice. The riptide carried her farther and farther, the strokes of his first mate’s oars like a lash against his heart every time they dragged through the choppy water. Was this really what sacrifice meant? He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t take his eyes away from his love as she wept silently, eyes filled with tears that he’d caused. Sacrifice wasn’t supposed to hurt them both this much. He had a responsibility to the ship, to the crew, but none of that seemed to matter when he could see he was ripping her heart out by sending her away. It didn’t matter to his love that he was trying to keep her safe from the dark end that awaited every pirate. It only mattered that they would be separated from here on. For the rest of their lives, they would bear a hole in them that was too deep to ever be filled by another. He’d ripped that into her by allowing her to fall in love with him. He’d ripped it into himself by adoring her like this. As he stepped up to the railing and stared through the sea spray waves that pounded against his ship, he realized he’d had it all wrong. He wasn’t supposed to give her up. He was supposed to give himself up. He turned and looked at his boat—the boat he’d worked his whole life to captain. He looked at his crew, and in their eyes, he could already see it—their silent goodbye. Standing on the bow, he inhaled the salty brine and closed his eyes against the sea mist, savoring it for the last time. Then he lifted his hands above his head and dove into the frigid, unforgiving waters below. Every stroke he swam toward his love changed him. Whoever he’d been yesterday didn’t matter anymore. She required and deserved more. The only version of himself that mattered was the man he would be tomorrow—for her. And when he broke the surface to gulp air, she was there, tears glistening in her eyes and arms outstretched, ready to help him up. Ready to catch him. Ready to push him to be the man she believed he could be.” A tear slipped to Layla’s cheek as she looked up at Kong and uttered the last lines. “She was everything, and he was nothing, and the sacrifice was never his to give. It was hers.”