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Stealing Home (Callahan Family Book 2)

Page 18

by Carrie Aarons


  “And what about Walker?” Colleen asks quietly, so quietly I almost miss it.

  My heart sputters to a stop, like an old engine that was working but crapped out suddenly. I might be putting quick fixes on it, tricking myself into believing it’s brand new, but that’s just a lie.

  “What about him?” I try to keep the heartbreak out of my voice.

  She stares down at her bare feet on the carpet. “I know he loves you, Hannah. He’s been in a shit mood for three months. Aside from work and family stuff, he doesn’t leave his house. He’s sullen and moody, which is the total opposite of my cousin. I’m worried, about both of you.”

  “He didn’t want to be with me, Colleen. I don’t know that there is anything I can do about that.”

  Dahlia rejoins us now, with two bottles of wine grasped in each hand.

  “But you love him. And he loves you, I know he does. I think you just had crap timing. What all happened with Shane, and then Sinclair, it’s enough to knock anyone down. You guys can still get back up again, though. Maybe if you just talked to him,” Colleen suggests, and I feel my anger and sadness reaching peak levels.

  “He walked away from me. I know he’s your cousin, but you can’t pin this one on me. I wanted to be with him, despite my trust issues and all of the baggage that came with me. I wanted to make it work. He was the one who ended things. And, might I add, hasn’t called since.”

  My sister pipes up, and I can’t believe what comes out of her mouth.

  “It’s okay to fall in love, to let a man love you. When it’s the right thing, it should feel effortless. Or at least that’s what I hear. And if you can’t see that Walker Callahan is head over heels for you and those girls, you’re even more blind than I thought. He might be a little lost right now, and I haven’t seen him in a while, but I know that man loves you.”

  Dahlia’s little speech rocks me to my core. “Um, what? You’re forgetting the part where he broke up with me. Hasn’t spoken to me for three months, basically made me fall in love with him and then walked out.”

  “So, you’re finally owning up to the fact that you’re in love with him? Good, at least we got somewhere.” My sister rolls her eyes.

  “It might not be my place, and believe me, I’m rooting for both of you, but Walker never gave up on you when you were going through hell. He was patient, didn’t push you, and wanted to do everything in his power to make you comfortable. When Sinclair got in his accident, Walker blamed himself. Solely. He still does. He’s tearing himself apart for not being a good enough brother, or a good enough family member. Believe me, as a Callahan, I understand that all too well. I think he’s just lost, and if you went to him, you could both end up happy.”

  Her words are a mirror held up to my face, but they aren’t exactly every side of the story. It’s hard to explain to her, and now I feel like she’s on his side. I feel like Dahlia is there, too. But how am I supposed to go groveling back to a man who made it clear he wants no part of being the man for me and my daughters?

  “You two are crazy.” I shake my head, reeling from the tail end of the conversation.

  The three of us are silent for a few moments, and then Colleen breaks it. “Well, at least you’re going to get to clear your head. And wouldn’t we all want to be on a flight to Hawaii in a few days?”

  “Damn straight. I wish I was going with you.” Dahlia pours herself another glass.

  At least there is that. With the criminal trial, or plea deal, past us, I can take the girls on a vacation away. Their mental state is much better, having had a few months to recover from the whole Shane ordeal, but I want to give them some carefree moments. Away from their hometown, this condo, and the scenes of the crimes of the past few years.

  So, we’re flying to Hawaii, where my parents will meet us, for a week’s vacation on my uncle’s coffee farm. I think it’s just what the doctor ordered.

  And maybe that serene blue ocean and black sand beach can cure some of the agony still slicing through the organ in my chest.

  32

  Walker

  “What are you doing here?”

  Sinclair asks as I unload some healthy groceries Mom ordered for him. “Stocking your fridge, you could say you’re welcome.”

  I hear my brother’s annoyed huff in the background. “I’m not twelve, Walker. I can get my own food.”

  Could have fooled me. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t feel like arguing.

  “You’ve been a miserable piece of shit the last few months.” My brother’s insult needles at my ribs like a small, sharp knife.

  I throw him a sardonic look. “It’s so nice to hear that from someone whose needs I’ve been putting before my own.”

  “I never asked you to do that. I fucked up, me. You never had to hold my hand or lead me down the right path.” Sin shrugs.

  “Can you just say thank you, for once?” Frustration feels like it’s steaming out of my ears.

  “Can you just be honest, for once? I know you don’t want to be here, helping me. I know you don’t want to be Dad’s errand boy, sitting in on endless boring-ass meetings and smiling for the cameras. What gives, Walker?”

  He’s finally gotten under my skin, which I think was his intention, and I slam a gallon of milk down on the counter.

  “What gives is that you finally pushed me away far enough that you almost fucking died! And in the time when I actually did take my own happiness into account, I found this bright, incredible woman who I thought I would love forever. But how the fuck am I supposed to provide for her, when I can’t even be there to make sure my own family doesn’t go down in flames? My entire life, I’ve been Dad’s errand boy so nothing would come down on you! I did that for you! And you repay me with this fucking attitude when all I’m trying to do is help. You think I want to be doing these things? Hell, no. I want to be with the woman I fell in love with, but I let her go. So fuck me for trying to help you, right?”

  Sinclair looks positively stunned. I’ve never lashed out at him quite like this, or let him in on such a personal side of my life.

  “Jesus Christ, if you’re in love with a woman, then what the hell are you doing here? Is she hot? Do I know her?”

  I roll my eyes at my brother’s second and third questions. “That’s all you care about? If she’s hot or not?”

  “It would help me knowing that. I’ve gotten used to my weekly grocery delivery. If I’m giving that up, it better be for a hot chick.” He smirks.

  “You’re such a prick.” I shoo him off like a fly.

  Sin catches my elbow. “Walker, I’m sorry. Seriously, if she is what makes you happy, why aren’t you with her?”

  I sigh. “It’s … she has a lot of baggage. Is going through a divorce, has kids …”

  “Wait a fucking minute.” He eyes me suspiciously. “This isn’t Hannah Giraldi, is it? Is this why Dad has been bitching about her and Shane to me incessantly?”

  “Yes, it’s Hannah. But I broke things off. After your accident, I just … I don’t know how I’m supposed to become this partner and father figure if I can’t even keep your ass in line.” I put my elbows down on his kitchen counter and sink my temples into my hands.

  Sinclair is quiet for a moment, but then I feel him come up next to me. “Dude, I’m a fucking mess. We all know that. There is no way that two little kids and a woman, one who seems pretty damn cool all on her own, are worse to wrangle than I am. And you’re just using that as an excuse. One that allows you to be scared. Is it a lot? Sure. But if you say you love her, then it should all be worth it.”

  I peer up at him through spliced fingers, and he continues.

  “You steal bases, man, that’s what you do. You take the risk, walk the tightrope, and sometimes you get burned. But shit, you’re fun to watch. Thrilling, even. You don’t back down, and you typically always make the best play of the game. Go make your best fucking play. Isn’t this the most epic game of your life? Isn’t this the ending you really want?
Go get her.”

  My brother is looking at me like I’m some kind of dumb, blind moron.

  “It’s not that easy.” I shake my head, telling both him and me, “I’m the one who ended things. She probably hates me, as it is. I told her I’d be there for her, and in her toughest time, I wasn’t.”

  “No time like the present for apologizing. Come on, look at you. With some puppy dog eyes thrown in, she has to forgive you.” He grins.

  “I have the All-Star game, and Colleen says she’s going to Hawaii for a family trip.” Just another excuse to throw out.

  Sinclair shrugs. “Skip it. You’ve been to enough. Opt out.”

  “Dad would love that.” I whistle through my teeth.

  “Aren’t you about done doing Dad’s bidding? I know I’m on the opposite end of the spectrum, being the black sheep and all, but you need to live your own life, brother. For as long as I can remember, you’ve said how high, even if Dad didn’t say jump. You’re a grown-ass man, Walker, and if you want to fly to Hawaii to tell the love of your life that you can’t live without her, well, shit, you know I would have been on a plane a week ago. Take one out of my playbook. Live recklessly. Go get what you want out of life.”

  For as fucked up as my brother is, he’s surprisingly right about this. Something clicks in my head.

  Why the hell am I doing all of these things that make me so unhappy? Why am I punishing myself for mistakes and goals that aren’t my own?

  Why did I let the one woman I’ve ever loved walk out of my life? Why did I push her to leave?

  I’ve spent the last three months being a miserable sack of shit, hating every moment of my waking existence. I’m lonely, tired, and miss Hannah so much that my hair follicles hurt.

  There is nothing else to do but take my brother’s advice; go run for that base and hope I make it there in time.

  The ride to Hannah’s house takes me fifteen minutes when it should normally take twenty. But when I get there, no one is home. I haven’t called her in three months, if I do it now, would she even pick up?

  I call the one person who will know where she is, even if that person is going to make me wade through hell and high water to find out any information.

  And six hours later, I’m flying over the US toward Hawaii.

  33

  Hannah

  The sand crunches beneath my feet, and a breeze seems to pass straight through my bones.

  They’re contented and sated, something about the air on Oahu and the way it seems to heal your soul has completely worked on me during this trip. I arrived at my uncle’s coffee farm two days ago with the girls, and the vacation has been a peaceful balm to my soul.

  I shouldn’t have waited so long to come back. Even though I only lived here for a short time as a girl, there is something that grounds me to the islands. Call it ancestral or some kind of blood magic, but I just feel so blissed out as I walk along the beach.

  My daughters went into town with my mom, who came to spend the week with us here from her home in California. Thank God for my wonderful family who would do anything for my girls, because it gives me a little alone time. I’ve been taking these daily walks in the afternoon, on one of the empty beaches that only locals seem to know about. I wish I could stay here forever, but I know our home is in Pennsylvania for now. It’s not even their father tying us there anymore, but my work now. I don’t want to leave Siesta; I want to see cosmetology school through.

  There have been so many times over the years that I’ve started something and given up, or just didn’t even get it off the ground due to the fear of failure. I won’t do that again. I love the salon I am working in, and I have found an ally in Ginny. I want to prove to myself, and to her, that I am a great caliber hairdresser who can really be an asset to her clients and business.

  The warm air caresses my skin as I walk back onto my uncle’s property. Dozens and dozens of acres of farmland, all used to grow coffee beans, lay before my eyes. Some of the workers they employ are in the fields, tending them, and I raise a hand in greeting. The smell is divine, and I know that a week won’t do me any justice. I wish I could hole up and hide here from the world for a few months.

  I pull open the creaky, love worn door of the old ranch house my aunt and uncle have lived in for nearly thirty years.

  And almost promptly keel over.

  “Wha … how … what are you doing here?” My voice sounds foreign in my ears.

  Walker Callahan stands to his full height, dwarfing my stout, round Hawaiian relatives who have gathered to welcome him, and in his blue eyes I see hope, apologies and full-on love that nearly bowls me over.

  “Hannah.” He says my name like a prayer.

  “You didn’t tell us you were expecting someone.” My Aunt Kileen sends me a suggestive grin, because clearly she thinks Walker is a catch.

  And my lord, he is. In blue khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt with yellow flowers printed on it, and a multi-day old scruff, he looks like an island fantasy come alive. He even looks tanner as he sits in front of me, and I don’t know how that’s remotely possible.

  “Because I didn’t know he was coming,” I tell her, then shoot a scowl at Walker. “How did you know I was here?”

  His shrug is sheepish. “I may have bribed Dahlia into telling me where you were. I went to your house, but no one was there.”

  I’m going to kill my sister. “I was there for three months. You never showed up.”

  That was petty, but it’s true. Those first few weeks after he ended things, I thought he’d show up. I thought he’d come around and make excuses, and I’d act strong and make him work for it, but we’d fall right back into the intensity we shared.

  It never happened, though. And now here he is, right when I thought I was doing okay. I’m on my own two feet, I made it to the place I can breathe some peaceful air. So, of course, Walker has to barge right in like some devastatingly handsome white knight who is breaking my heart all over again just standing in front of me.

  “We’re just going to give you two a little time alone.” Aunt Kileen’s brows shoot up as she shoos everyone out of the room.

  I go too, walking right back out the rickety door and onto the palm-tree dotted lawn.

  “I’m sorry, I should have called first, but I didn’t think you’d want to see me.” He’s following me, and I head right back out to the path down to the beach.

  “You’re right, I don’t want to see you. I don’t even know why you came here. It’s been months, Walker. Months that were very hard, and stressful, and I went through that. Alone. You don’t get to show up when it’s all bright and shiny, and expect me to … what? Why are you even here?”

  “Because I love you, Hannah. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been miserable the past few months trying to deny that to myself.”

  Those three little words sew up all the cracks in my heart, and I hate that they do. I hate that it’s the first time he’s saying them, and we’re not even together. I hate that they’re a bargaining chip.

  My head is reeling, and the bliss I just felt out by the sea has evaporated. I stomp down the path, throwing angry looks over my shoulder.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Walker. I haven’t seen you in three and a half months. You broke up with me, ended this, and my heart … it sank. To the bottom of the freaking ocean. I had nothing more to lose, and yet, I lost even more.”

  He reaches out, his fingers grazing my elbow. “I’m sorry, I know, I’m so sorry. Please, just talk to me. I hate how I acted, how messed up I was that night. I just … I couldn’t think straight. I kept thinking everything I touched would rot, and that eventually, I’d let you down just like I let Sinclair down.”

  “So instead of working it out together, instead of hearing what I thought, you just dumped me? That night was pure hell, Walker. All I wanted was for you to wrap me up in your arms, and instead, you walked out on me.”

  My voice is one giant sob, and the pai
n I felt so many months ago is fresh and pungent. It rips at me, revealing just how many cuts I still have that aren’t healed even though I swore they were.

  We finally break free of the path, the ocean crashing down onto the shore in front of us. I want to scream into its void, because as much fury as I feel, there is also love behind it. God, the majority of my body and heart wants to throw itself into his arms and never let go. Dignity be damned.

  Love, so potent and right, that is what’s between us. But I’ve had that before, and it soured. I can’t risk losing myself in another man, because Walker has proven he can break my heart exactly the way Shane did.

  “Hannah, I swear, give me one more chance and I will never hurt you again. I know what I did was wrong, I fucked up. But you? You. Are. It. For. Me.” Every word drips with sincerity, and I almost see tears in his sapphire eyes when I turn to face him. “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I’ll beg, I’ll plead. I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to trust me again. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. Just … please. Don’t shut me out. Don’t close the door. Make me work for it, I’ll do anything. But I can’t live without you. And I’m pretty sure you feel the same about me.”

  I’m left speechless, floundering with tears stuck hot and heavy in the back of my throat. Of course I can’t live without him. I’ve cried myself to sleep for months whenever I think about him in my bed.

  Now he’s here, in the most perfect place, saying everything I want to hear. Something is holding me back, though.

  So I don’t say anything. I don’t say no, but I don’t say yes either. I just walk off down the beach, knowing I have a million more thoughts to resolve than what I ventured up to the farm with just minutes ago.

 

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