Love Lock (The Love Lock Duet Book 2)

by S. M. West

  “Morning,” she says, taking the cup I hand her.

  I’d come down to an empty house, but while putting the coffee on, I caught movement outside. Staring out the window, I watched her cool down from her run. It reminded me of the countless times I’d witnessed those very same moves before, drinking in her lean, strong body as she’d stretch, walking in circles to slow her heart rate.

  “Hi. You should have woken me. I’d have gone with you.”

  We used to run together, and we did it often when we’d come up here. When it comes to cardio, I prefer variety, doing a little bit of everything, but Pippa loves to run. She says it’s more than a workout, it also helps clear her head. I loved running with her.

  She smiles, bringing the cup to her mouth. “Next time. Do you still run?”

  “Sometimes, but not as much as before.” I shrug. “I still swim often and started parkour this summer.”

  Her eyes widen. “Parkour? Seriously? That’s hardcore.”

  A self-deprecating smile tugs at my lips. “Yeah. I’m not very good at it, but it’s fun.” I watch her roam my body appreciatively, almost as if she’s seeing me in a new light. “One of our summer interns got me into it. Now, he is good.”

  “Hmmm, that explains it.” Her eyes twinkle.

  “Explains what?” I quirk an eyebrow, now straightening to my full height and widening my stance.

  “I thought you looked buffer.” She flashes me a teasing grin and I glimpse a slice of the Pippa I’ve known all my life.

  Before I can give as good as she gives, my phone rings, vibrating across the countertop. I hit a button. “Hayes.”

  I tense at the sound of Gretchen Campton’s voice. She’s a colleague with the Ministry of the Attorney General, and there’s only one reason for her call.

  The longer I’m on the phone, the more my irritation grows, and Pippa listens to my end of the conversation as I shut Gretchen down, politely but definitively.

  “Thanks for calling.” I don’t mean a word and rather wish they’d leave me alone.

  “What was that about?” She rinses her cup.

  “Work.” I drop my phone on the counter.

  “And?” She opens the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water, waving it at me.

  Shaking my head, I fold my arms over my chest. “We’ve been assisting the police with a case to bring it to trial. The evidence wasn’t as strong as we wanted it to be, but that call was to let me know we’ve got what we need. A trial date has been set.”

  “And?” she asks again, knowing all too well there’s more.

  “I’d spent a lot of hours on the dirtbag, figuring out where the police might find more to strengthen our case. I’d made it known I wanted to prosecute. We’re now a go.”

  “Oh.” Her voice is small. “So when are you going back?”

  My gut clenches as she heads out of the room, reminiscent of times when I’d disappointed her in the past. Work and her brother came before her. I never realized it at the time, but she got a raw deal.

  I hadn’t intentionally wanted our love to be imbalanced, and perhaps subconsciously I took her for granted. And that’s a bitter pill to swallow because it hits a little too close to home. It’s the very reason why my parents divorced. My father took my mother for granted and it kills me to think I did the same.

  Pippa had loved me for as long as I could remember. Always there for me, and I got used to it. Fuck, I did take her for granted. If I ever get a second chance with her, she’ll always come first.

  “I’m not,” I say, and she stops. “Told you, I’m off for easily the next month.”

  She whips her head around, peering at me over her shoulder, wide-eyed. “What?”

  “I turned it down. I want to spend time with you. You’re my number one priority, Pip.”

  “Mmm.” Now facing me, her lips press together, and her long blonde ponytail hangs over one shoulder. “You don’t have to stick around because of me. I’ll be fine alone. I love it here.”

  Her words aren’t intended to wound but they do. With a heaviness in my chest and nausea in my stomach, I want a do-over. I wish I could go back in time and start our relationship over. Not all of it was bad, fuck no, some of the time was marvelous. But I fucked up enough to want a fresh start.

  When it comes to Pippa, I did it all wrong.

  I hope she gives me a chance to prove to her how much I love her. How important she is to me and that no matter what, I will put her first, above all else.

  “You can stay here anytime you want, with or without me, but for now, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “All right, if you say so,” she says, falsely chipper. “I’m grabbing a shower and then do you want to go for a drive? The fall colors are beautiful.”

  “Sure.” I’m unable to tear my gaze from the way the black spandex molds to the curve of her splendid heart-shaped ass or the long, lean muscles of her legs.

  Our first week together vanishes in a flash, and before we know it, the weekend is upon us. We’ve fallen into an easy routine and it’s reassuring, hopefully reminding her as much as reaffirming how well we fit together. We’ve spent our days running, catching up on books and movies, trying new recipes, and I’ve been slowly tearing down her walls.

  We haven’t talked again about Brock and she hasn’t mentioned if he’s contacted her since we last spoke. I’m antsy for his next move, and also for my next move where she is concerned. We haven’t talked again about my desire to have her back, but it hums low and steady between us, at all times. I won’t pressure her, but I get the sense she hasn’t taken any of my pronouncements of love, of wanting her back, seriously.

  This weekend won’t be the opportunity to push it further because Finn, Cass, Tom, and Claire are joining us. Paige wanted to come but she has to work. We stroll along the gravel, our daily walk coming to an end, and spy Finn’s SUV in the driveway next to mine.

  “It’s cold.” She shivers, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “What? Living in California has made you soft. It isn’t even November.” I hip-check her and wrap my arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “This is nothing.”

  She laughs, gently pushing at my side, wanting to get away, and her rejection stings a bit. Against my better judgement, I say, “I’ve no right to ask this, and my timing sucks.” We stop and I point toward our company. “But I have to ask.”

  “What?” She turns to face me, puzzled.

  “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?”

  I don’t know why I ask, but it’s been niggling at me all week. Since my declaration went unrequited. I’m a results-orientated kind of guy. Even though we can’t get to the bottom of it this weekend, I want to know if I’m making progress or not. If I have a second chance with her.

  She nibbles at her bottom lip, creasing her brow. “What do you mean?”

  “We’re different.” I motion between us. “You’re different.” I pause, swallowing past the lump of uncertainty. “Even with the end of your marriage on the horizon, you’ve moved on from me, haven’t you?”

  She glances down to her runners, toeing a few stones before looking back at me. Her expression is pensive, hesitant. But she doesn’t say a thing. Her blue eyes examine my face, taking in every tic, twitch and blink, but she gives me nothing in return.

  “I had your love for most of my life and I messed that up, didn’t I?” I keep pushing, needing an answer, and the pain in my voice echoes the ache in my chest.

  “Are you asking if I still love you?” she whispers, again worrying her lip.

  I nod, holding my breath. I’m not sure what I’ll do with her response. Right now, hope is all I have, and what happens if she snatches it away?

  “I never stopped. I never could.” Her tone is steady and so is her gaze. “And you can’t lose something I’ve never taken away. Drew, you’ve always had my heart and...” She pauses, holding back tears, voice shaking. “I’ll always love you.”

  We stare at each other and my heart s
wells with hope. My gaze drops to her pretty mouth and I want to kiss her badly. I cup her cheek and gently pull her closer, slanting my head to capture her lips.

  A tiny gasp escapes her open mouth and our tongues touch. She responds to my lips on hers, clinging to my shoulders and melting into me. I want to kiss her, long and deep without end, but male voices call our names, forcing me to let her go.

  17

  Pippa

  “Pippa!” Tom bellows from downstairs. “C’mon. I’m getting old waiting for you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I grab the scarf and gloves where Claire said they would be in the room we’re sharing for the weekend. “I’m coming. It hasn’t even been a minute,” I say, marching down the stairs.

  My brother stands at the landing, rubbing at the scruff on his chiseled jawline. “About fucking time.”

  His black North Face jacket fits perfectly over his broad shoulders and chest, tapering at his trim waist. A black skull cap covers his blond hair, making his sharp blue eyes, so much like mine, even more pronounced. They gleam with naughtiness. He’s all man. When did this happen? Where’d my little brother go?

  Following him outside, I swat at the back of his head. “Language.”

  “Yeah, okay, Mom,” he jests.

  With the front door locked, we jog the path toward Finn, Cass, Drew, and Claire. We’re going for a hike, but it’s chilly so I’m borrowing Claire’s extra set of gear. My phone vibrates in my pocket, causing my steps to falter and my gut to clench.

  Hanging back from the group, I take my phone out, not surprised to see it’s another text from Brock. It’s easily his thirtieth text this past weekend. I haven’t ignored him, but my answers have been short and only what’s necessary. They have a game tonight and then it’s bye week, meaning he has a football-free week to do as he pleases, and I can only imagine what he has in store for me.

  Brock: You need to come home.

  “Everything okay?” Drew slows his pace to step in beside me, eyeing my phone.

  I turn it off and hastily shove it into my pocket. “Yeah.” Giving him a tight smile. “All good.”

  He frowns and his jaw flexes, clenching. “You do know, at some point, you’ll have to let me in.”

  His voice is low, so only I can hear, and his caring frustration jerks at my heart. Don’t get sucked in. His gaze dips to my mouth and instantly, I feel the wet heat of his lips on mine, and I’m back to our conversation on the driveaway at the start of this weekend. He kissed me and it was amazing, it’s Drew so of course it would be. But since then we haven’t been alone and I’m not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse. We’ll always love each other, but I’m no longer convinced we’re good for each other.

  “Do I?” I challenge, needing him to know we—us as a couple—aren’t a forgone conclusion. He’ll always be in my life. Our families are inextricably entwined, but that doesn’t mean we ever will be again.

  “You aren’t alone.” He scratches his head through the dove-grey beanie.

  “I know, but I can handle this on my own.” I force a confident tone.

  He tips his chin to his chest, lightly shaking his head, and his cool eyes hold mine for a beat before he takes my hand and pulls me to join the others.

  My family is here for the next day or two, with Finn and Cass returning to work on Wednesday, their honeymoon now over, and Claire’s shift starts Wednesday night. She’s in her final year of medical school. Tom doesn’t have to be anywhere, as he’s still figuring things out since graduating with a bachelor’s degree in economics.

  This weekend, Finn reminded me of our parents’ upcoming wedding anniversary. Every year, we close the bar or one of Sam’s restaurants to celebrate. I haven’t been around for the past few years and it’s only five weeks until the party. I’m glad I’ll be here to help plan and celebrate.

  These few days with my siblings have been amusing and enlightening, and I’ve had a front row seat to the incessant bickering between Tom and Claire. They don’t wear on my nerves the way they do Finn. For me, it’s almost new and refreshing. They make me laugh at how much they get under each other’s skin and remind me of how Finn and I used to do the same. Causing my older brother grief used to bring me no end of joy, and the same could be said for him.

  After our hike, Drew and Finn make dinner and it’s while we’re cleaning up that the younger two go at it again. Tom hands Claire the last dirty dish and she bends, placing it in the dishwasher. All the while, he yammers on about how he’s planning to take Drew’s kayak out on the lake tomorrow.

  “Bud, it isn’t exactly balmy out there.” Drew points out the window. “Come in the summer and you can take it out daily, if you want.”

  My brother frowns, raking a hand through his hair. “Nah, I’ll be fine.”

  “Tom,” Finn says from his spot at the kitchen table. “You don’t have a wet suit.”

  “Don’t need one.” Turning the dishwasher on, he rests his back against the counter, rubbing his hands together, completely stoked with the idea of kayaking.

  “Tom, the temperature may not be freezing but when in water below twenty-five Celsius, your breathing begins to be affected, even for the healthiest person. Even athletes. Did you know the official water temperature required for Olympic swimming competition is between twenty-five to twenty-eight Celsius? That’s why. It’s too dangerous if you fall in without a wet suit.” Claire already sounds like a doctor, and Tom laughs condescendingly.

  “Do you want to know what I hear when Claire speaks?” He scans the table, pausing on each of us before deadpanning, “Blah. Blah. Blah. Kill me.”

  I bite my bottom lip to stifle a laugh and catch Finn’s amused gaze.

  “You’re a jerk!” Claire charges Tom, shoving his side, and he responds with a chuckle, loving that he’s riled our beautiful nerdy sister up.

  Finn stands and hooks his arm around Claire’s shoulders, pulling her into his side and bending to whisper in her ear. The pixie smirks, and her blue eyes spark with mischief. Tom better watch out—Claire may be the academic one, with her nose always in a textbook, but she can hold her own. She has been known to even the score when needed.

  “All right you brats,” says Finn. “Why don’t you set up the poker game? Pippa and I will be out shortly.” His intent stare tells me all I need to know. We’re going to have the conversation, finally acknowledge the elephant in the room.

  I nod, pressing my lips together, and they file out silently. Drew squeezes my shoulder when he passes, and Cass offers a warm, encouraging smile. Finn walks to my side of the table, taking my hands and pulling me to my feet. His eyes shine with the soft gleam of what I swear are unshed tears.

  “Bet you were wondering if I’d ever get to this.” There’s a glimmer of a smile in his tone.

  “I figured you would, just wasn’t sure how long it would take you.”

  “Fuck, Pip, I don’t want to rehash the past, unless you need me to, because we both know what happened.” He holds both my hands in his, facing me.

  “No, I don’t want to go back there. Been there, done that.” I chuckle, trying to keep the tightening in my chest from intensifying.

  “I’m to blame for it all and I’m so sorry.” The low rumble of his voice is choked, heartfelt.

  My crushed heart jolts and my lips wobble at his mea culpa. Not until now did I realize just how much I needed to hear him own his part in what happened. Finn isn’t the only one to blame, I played my part too. We all did.

  “Me too.” A fat tear spills onto my cheek. “I’m sorry. It’s not all on you. I could have helped you more to make peace with what happened to Claire, instead I got so angry and so insensitive. I lost my patience with you.”

  “I didn’t make it easy. I was in some serious fucking denial, and I don’t think anyone could’ve helped me until I was ready. I’m a stubborn bastard.”

  Laughter bubbles forth from both of us. “You sure are,” I snort, pushing onto my toes and wrapping my arms around my brother
.

  “I love you so much, Pip,” he says into my hair, holding me tight.

  “I love you too.” We break apart and stare silently at each other for a beat or two. “You ready to lose some money?”

  “Not a chance I’m losing.” His tone is light, playful, but the hold on my hand is strong and comforting. “About Brock.”

  His gaze holds a ferocity only my older brother has ever possessed, and while I told Drew I can do this on my own, and I will if I have to, in reality, I want my family behind me. I’ve been alone long enough—of my own doing—and I no longer want to be, if I have a choice.

  “I’m getting a divorce. He doesn’t like it and I don’t think he realizes I’m dead serious.”

  “When you go to California, I’m coming with you. I’ll make him understand.”

  I slap at his chest, gently pushing him back. “You don’t need to go all Neanderthal. I appreciate the offer and I will take the company.” Finn’s brows jump, surprised, and I continue, “But I don’t want any violence. There’s been enough of that already.”

  18

  Pippa

  The hard knock at the door causes Claire and me to jump. We’re wrapped in blankets, each on an oversized chair in the reading nook, engrossed in our books. The banging starts again and the paperback slips from my hand, thudding to the wooden floor.

  “Who is it?” Claire asks, her features frantic.

  We’re alone. The guys and Cass drove to the nearest sports store, no longer able to take Tom’s whining about a wet suit. That boy is determined to kayak and the only way Drew and Finn would agree to it is if he got the proper gear.

  “Not sure. Stay here.” I unravel from the blanket and the banging continues. “Coming!” I sprint to the entrance.

  Whoever it is better have a good reason for wanting to bring down the front door. “Yes?” My voice dies, breath lodged in my throat as I swing the door open.