“Three weeks.” I’m fairly certain what this conversation is going to devolve into, and I don’t want Lily to see it when it does. Rhys was always slow to anger, but when he snapped, it was like a thunderstorm. I had seen him whoop Parker too many times about some small prank played on Lily.
“Wasted no time, huh?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure it’s not.” He walks forward, and I force myself to hold my ground. Rhys might have an inch of height on me, but I have nearly twenty pounds of muscle and ten years of training. I’m not going to hurt him, but if he thinks I’ll go down easy, he’s dead wrong.
“Rhys, it’s not like he—”
“No, Lily. I want to hear him say it,” Rhys spits out. “Tell me how you broke my little sister’s heart ten years ago, and then show up out of the blue to do the same thing again.”
He must see the faint widening of my eyes, because he laughs, but it’s not happy. “You think I didn’t know? Oh, of course I did. I’m not clueless like Parker or distant like Henry. But I thought you were good for her. You proved me wrong.”
“I didn’t want to leave her.”
“Of course not. Just like you couldn’t call or text her.”
Rhys’s first swing comes out of nowhere, and I realize belatedly that that was always his talent. He’s unpredictable as hell. Made him impossible to beat in Mario Kart once upon a time.
I duck, just narrowly avoiding the punch. “Hey man, I know it doesn’t look good.”
“That’s because it’s not.”
I avoid another poorly thrown punch, only to be hit squarely in the center of my stomach by his other hand. Shit. I’ve forgotten that Rhys is left-handed.
“Damn it,” I gasp. “Don’t make me fight you.”
“What, because you’d win if you did? Be a man and try.”
I block another punch and grab hold of his arm. It’s easy enough to twist it around, holding him still in an armlock. “You’re right to be angry. So was Lils.”
“I was,” she adds helpfully, standing to the side with a shocked expression on her face. “Rhys, stop. Please.”
“No.” Rhys aims a kick to my knee as I turn away, my hold on his arm loosening. He twists free and attacks me, arms around my torso.
I stagger back and narrowly avoid hitting Lily’s dining-room table. If he keeps going like this, we’ll destroy her house.
So I grab him and tackle him smoothly to the ground. We fall to a heap on Lily’s shaggy rug, far away from any breakables.
“Asshole,” he growls at me, hitting me hard on my shoulder. I grunt in pain and block another one of his punches. It’s hard as hell to fight when you don’t want to hurt your opponent—especially when he doesn’t share the same restraint.
“Rhys! Stop it right now.”
He doesn’t listen to his sister. He struggles to sit up, pushing me down beneath him. I hold my own, but I let him rain down punches over my arms, covering my face. Rhys won’t stop until his anger is burned out—and unfortunately, I think this might be the only way. I’ve seen it many times in the military.
“We took you in,” he growls. “You were like a damn brother to me.”
And that’s when it hits me that he’s not just angry for Lily’s sake, although that’s undoubtedly there too.
“I know, man.”
“Asshole. You’re not even trying to defend yourself. Fight, damn it.”
Fuck this.
I twist around, throwing my leg over his. I’ve never fought in only boxers before, but it does give me a lot of room to maneuver.
I flip him over, hard, and grasp his arms in a lock. He tries to throw me off, but I’m stronger than him.
“I had just crashed a damn car with her in it,” I hiss. “You think I wanted to leave like that? Even your own dad told me to go. I was trying to do the right thing.”
Rhys stills, but his face is still etched in anger. “Fuck you,” he says.
“I know.”
“If you hurt her again…”
“I know,” I repeat. “I won’t.”
He shakes his head in resignation, before he bucks up and hits my head with his. It hurts like hell, my skull ringing with pain.
“Shit.”
Rhys pushes me away and crawls back. He grabs his forehead, doubtlessly hurting too. “What made you brave enough to come back?”
I wipe blood away from the corner of my mouth. “It hurt too much to stay away.”
He nods, like he understands perfectly. For a long moment, we just stare at each other. The hot anger in his gaze lessens to something more like simmering resentment.
When he finally speaks, his voice is full of resignation. “Welcome back, asshole.”
“Thanks.”
Lily approaches us slowly. She has her hands on her hips, her expression dazed. “You’re both idiots,” she says. “Rhys, you should know better.”
“Yes, I should have kicked his ass years ago.”
Lily turns to me. Her hand smooths over my shoulder, eyes scanning me from head to toe. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
She ignores her brother—who is staunchly ignoring us too—and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. “I’m sorry about my family.”
“Don’t be.”
Lily shakes her head at me again and goes to the bathroom. I hear the sound of water running and rummaging in drawers. No doubt she’s looking for things to patch us up with.
Rhys stares at me, and I stare at him.
Finally, he shakes his head. “You should be happy it wasn’t Henry or Parker who came in and saw you half-naked in here. They would have killed you.”
“I’m not easy to kill,” I say. “Plus, I’m a better fighter than all three of you. Always was.”
He shoots me a wry smile. “So we’d have to be three-on-one. Good to know.”
“Think the others will object?”
“Maybe at first,” he says, but then he shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. There’s no telling.”
“Did you just get back?”
“Yes. Came here first.”
I nod, running a hand through my hair. There’s a lot of stuff to work out with her brothers. I left them too, ten years ago—not just Lily. And even if she claims the opposite, I know Lily could never bear to have her family disapprove of us.
So I take a chance.
“Let me just put on some clothes and let’s head to the marina. I know Parker was going to sail today. Want to hit the waves?”
There’s a flicker of hunger in Rhys’s eyes. It’s something I recognize easily: the call of the sea. It lives in Rhys as surely as it lives in me, drawing all of us back here, like driftwood caught in a current.
“Let’s,” he says.
Rhys accepts a Band-Aid from his sister, kisses her forehead, promises to be back for dinner, and heads to his car. He throws out a dark “I’ll only wait five minutes!” to me before shutting the front door behind him.
I accept some fussing from Lily—she pads my busted front lip—before gently pushing her away.
“I have to get dressed, baby.”
She puts a slim hand on my shoulder to stop me. “What did you mean earlier, about my dad telling you to leave?”
Damn.
I rub my neck. “Well, there was a conversation after the accident. We both agreed that it would be best if I left.”
“You both agreed, huh.” She’s quiet for a beat, and when she speaks again, there’s anger in her voice. “I love my father, but he’s a bastard. I can’t imagine he’d change that, especially not with his kid in the intensive care unit.”
“It was a long time ago.”
She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have ordered you away. Because that’s what he did, right?”
I sigh. The conversation I’d had with Mr. Marchand feels light years away. “He told me to leave, yes,” I say gently. “But I agreed. It was my decision, and it was a terrible one. O
ne I’m sorry for.”
Lily runs a hand through my hair, her touch soft despite the steel in her tone. “I know. But you were eighteen, and you were injured in that car crash too. He had no right.”
“It was a long time ago,” I repeat, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to the palm before releasing it. “I have to get dressed.”
She watches me in silence as I pull on my shorts and a T-shirt, sticking my feet in the pair of boat shoes I’d picked up just the week prior.
An impatient honk sounds outside.
I look back at Lily. She’s pulled on the same dress from yesterday. Her hair is in a high ponytail and her cheeks are flushed with intent. She looks amazing.
“Sorry about my brothers,” she says. “And my father.”
I shake my head at her nonsense and press a goodbye kiss to her lips. Her softness draws me in, and it’s by willpower alone that I break the connection. She’s a hell of a lot more enticing than the prospect of spending hours with two of her big brothers. I’m not sure if Rhys’s beating will be the only one I’ll have to endure today.
“Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”
“I’ll see you tonight,” she says.
“Can’t wait.”
29
Lily
I watch as Rhys and Hayden drive away. There’s sweat beading on my forehead, and I feel a bit shaky from the interaction. The cat is really out of the bag now—and far sooner than Hayden would have preferred.
Just a week ago, he’d asked me to wait to tell the family about our relationship. And here he is, forced to endure it all in one day. All I can is hope that the pressure won’t be too much.
Damn Rhys. He’d been gone without any settled return date, and of course he just had to make a surprise out of his return. I’ll have words with him later, too. I shoot my brother a text. Be nice.
There’s no response, but I know he’ll read it, at least before they set off. And Parker… I have no idea how my youngest brother will react. He’s always seen Hayden as a given member of the family.
I shake my head and reach for the car keys. I can’t deal with that right now—not when I have to go fight the dragon myself. It had been hard to hide my anger in front of Hayden. I didn’t want him to know just how much my dad’s actions had hurt me—not until I got a chance to speak my mind.
Luckily, I know exactly where my father will be on a Sunday morning. He’ll be in his study on the second floor of the family house, going over the latest housing developments and looking at investment opportunities.
My mom greets me with a smile when I arrive home. The smell of nail polish hangs heavy in the air, and she gives me an air hug to avoid ruining her freshly applied coat. I’m still angry at her too—it’s going to take a while—but she seems to have accepted that.
“I didn’t know you were coming today, chérie.”
“I’m here to talk to Dad.”
“All right. You seem stressed.” She leans in closer, peering at my face. “And you look flushed.”
“I just have something to take care of.”
“Here on business?” She nods to the stairs. “He’s upstairs.”
I knock twice on the door to the study before I head inside. This used to be a no-go zone when I was young. No playing hide-and-seek in here, and absolutely no disrupting Dad when he was working.
Now, I hope I disrupt him completely. I’m angry for nineteen-year-old Hayden, who had just been in a car accident, and I’m angry for eighteen-year-old me, who thought her boyfriend left on his own.
Dad looks up when I enter, his brow furrowing. “Sweetheart? I didn’t know you were coming by today.”
“I needed to see you.”
“All right. Can it wait?”
“No.”
Whatever he sees on my face stops him from arguing. He puts his reading glasses down and leans back in his chair. The gray in his hair only makes him look more distinguished, despite my mom fighting a losing battle against her own streaks.
“What’s the matter?”
“What did you tell Hayden after the accident, all those years ago?”
Dad sighs and reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I only gave him some advice. He hasn’t had a father figure in his life, you know. I tried to guide the boy.”
“He has his uncle,” I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking with anger. “You told him to leave. You sent him away.”
“For his own good, and for yours, sweetheart.”
“The accident wasn’t his fault. The truck driver was driving drunk.”
“Yes,” Dad says calmly. “I know those reports by heart. But you’re always responsible to a certain extent when you’re in the driver’s seat. He took you out for a spin in the middle of the night, and as a consequence, you have a permanent limp. You could have died.”
“Not his fault. He nearly died too, and instead of showing compassion, you told him to get out of town.”
Dad’s eyes flash with irritation. “He was bad news. I let him stay here because the boy had potential, but he was wasting it, spending his days on the fishing vessels and his nights panting around you. I wanted him gone and I would do the same thing again.”
“It broke me.”
“No, it made you stronger, and it made him stronger, too. He’s a decorated vet now, isn’t he? And you went to Yale and got to try your hand in the art world.” My dad shakes his head, reaching for the papers on his desk. “You won’t understand. You never could.”
“No, I understand perfectly,” I say coldly, standing up. “And I refuse to let you play God in my life anymore—and not in Hayden’s either.”
“Have you taken up with him again?”
The way he phrases it… but I won’t let him make me feel less. “We’re together, and I don’t think that’s likely to change.”
Dad stares at me, a thoughtful look on his face. It’s not exactly acceptance, but he doesn’t look angry, either.
“He’s grown,” he says finally. “I suppose you could do worse.”
“Thank you for that ringing endorsement.”
“Always thought you’d end up with the Harris’s boy,” he says, returning his gaze to his papers. “He has a good sailing boat, that kid.”
I shake my head in disgust and head toward the door. Only then does it strike me that I haven’t told him everything. I turn back slowly, a smile on my face, and deliver the coup de grâce.
“I bought a space in town. I’m going to turn it into an art gallery.”
My dad pauses with his hand halfway to his face, about to put his reading glasses back on. I can see the exact moment the realization settles over him. He can say what he wants, but it won’t bother me. Not anymore.
“All right,” he says slowly. “I look forward to the opening.”
I give him a nod and leave his office, closing the door firmly behind me. For a few long moments, all I can do is take deep breaths before a giant smile breaks across my face.
There’s a text waiting for me when I come out of the family house. Actually, there’s several.
I open Hayden’s first. Sorry about this morning. Come join us at the marina this afternoon, when we get back?
I smile and type a quick response. I’ll be there when you get back! And please ignore my family. It’s still just us, Hayden. You and me.
Because that’s all that matters in the end—love, and friendship, and family. And Hayden feels like the perfect combination of all three to me.
I love him. I always have, and I never stopped, not even in the long years spent apart. Years where we both missed each other, all because of misunderstandings and meddling. And perhaps… perhaps it’s time I told him that.
I nearly make it all the way to the marina before history repeats itself.
30
Hayden
Rhys takes command of the boat the second we hit the open water.
Parker looks at me with a rueful grin, but neither of us object as Rhys barks out
orders. He knows Frida just as well as we do, and despite the years he’s spent away, sailing is in his blood.
I understand the need to connect with it—to return to the sea. So Parker, a six-time state champion, doesn’t object to his big brother’s domineering. Neither do I, despite the fact that I’ve been a lieutenant in the Navy for years.
Parker grins at me, nodding to where Rhys is turning the winch to release the spinnaker. “He sure as hell wasted no time.”
“He rarely does.”
“He’s also in one hell of a temper. Nearly bit my head off when I asked him if he’d arrived yesterday or this morning.”
Damn. “Yeah, we had a bit of an argument earlier.”
Parker nods, and there’s sympathy in his eyes—sympathy I don’t deserve. “About you pulling a disappearing act on us? Yeah. Rhys isn’t quick to forgive, you know, but he’ll come around.”
“You weren’t angry at me when I returned,” I say, knowing I’m going to have to tell Parker about Lily. It’s only a matter of time until Rhys says something, and judging by his clenched jaw, it’s not going to be in complimentary terms.
Parker shrugs. “Look, man, I’m sure you had your reasons. Was I angry at you? Yeah. You didn’t even say goodbye, Hay.”
“I know.”
“But look…” he says, and there’s more depth than I’m used to seeing on his face. His eyes are dark with earnestness. “I get it. Your situation was different from ours. It fucking sucks, but it’s the truth. I’m not going to blame you for that.”
“Thanks.”
“You could’ve called every now and then, though.”
“I should’ve, man. I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted,” he says, putting a hand on my shoulder. For a second, it feels like we’re sixteen again, side by side at the back of Frida. It’s easy to imagine Henry and his father at the front of the boat, Lily lounging on deck somewhere, Rhys reading a book next to her.
I take a deep breath. Getting this right might be the most important thing in my life. Michael Marchand’s approval means absolutely nothing to me—but his sons’ approval does. More than that, it means a lot to Lily, despite her insistence to the contrary.
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