by Misti Murphy
“I don’t know.” I move away from her. Sooner or later I’m going to have to work out what I plan to do about me and Claire, and how the hell I’m going to get her brothers to understand without hating us both.
“It’s your turn, Raze,” Claire calls out, and when I turn back I get a glimpse of how worried she is. Not because she doesn’t want them to know, but because she understands what I’m going to have to give up for her.
***
There’s a pile of rubble where the old house used to be. The demolition crew came in over the past week and knocked down the old building. I scrub at the back of my neck. It’s kind of weird how this place is so much a part of my past even though I spent all my time at the Hadley’s. I guess it’s because it’s one of my first memories. The house had seemed bigger, scarier when I was a kid. Now it’s just a pile of bricks and broken plaster. There’s no old man ready to beat my ass every time I take a step out of line. The smell of rotgut whisky though, stays strong, like it leaked into the wood and plaster itself. Or maybe it’s just that I’ll never forget the smell as long as I live.
“How long do they think it will take to clear all this away?” Claire pulls my arm around her shoulder and sinks into my side.
“Another week or so.” I don’t look at her. After this is done, I’m leaving. Or at least that’s what I told her originally. Don’t expect me to stick around. I’m pretty sure were the actual words I might have used. But it was meant to scare her off. Instead she stands beside me like…I don’t fucking know. I don’t know how to put a name to this thing between us. It’s always been family. People who care for you, look after you, fight for you. They’re your real family, not bastards like my grandfather or my pathetic excuse for parents. But what Claire is, it’s more than family. That night I took her virginity, I remember some kid calling her my girlfriend. I’ve had girlfriends before. Never been serious about a single one of them. I twist to slant my mouth across hers. “Let’s get out of here.”
I take her hand as we stroll back to the bike. “We never did get those waffles that night.”
“You want to get waffles?” She smiles, picking up the helmet Tom loaned her and jamming it over her head. “You’re developing a sweet tooth in your old age.”
“If, by sweet, you mean you, then I think I always had it.” I cover her fingers with mine, securing the chinstrap. I know she can do it herself, but there’s something about being able to do little things for her that makes my chest swell.
“Is this a date, Razer? Are you asking me out on some kind of weird after sex date?”
“More of a between sex date.” I grin, swatting her ass before putting on my own helmet. “I fully expect you to put out afterwards.”
***
Watching Claire eat waffles is like watching porn. Sinful, delicious, and not nearly as much fun as sticking something of mine in her mouth. She darts her tongue over her bottom lip to catch a drip of cream as she takes another bite, and I have to shift in my seat. My mind is still mulling over how serious this thing between me and her has gotten and how I’m going to approach telling Mace. He’s going to be pissed, but when she slipped into my arms at the house I started considering exactly what expectations I’d like her to have. “When do you have to go back?”
“I should have gone back weeks ago.” She tucks the blade of her knife into the prongs of her fork and reaches for her hot chocolate. “Olivia’s fantastic at holding down the fort, but it isn’t fair that I dumped everything on her.”
“So soon then?” It’s going to suck when she leaves. But I’m supposed to be leaving, too. Only, I’m more than half-tempted to join Mace in this security gig he’s lining up, or help Tom with the classes he wants to set up. Anything to stay, but only because she’s here.
“Soon.” She nods. “Before the ball. I have to be there for that. What about you? You’re supposed to be in Lanston, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
When she pushes away her empty mug, we slide out of the booth and make our way back to the bike. She’s right. I was supposed to be gone weeks ago. Now I’m not sure I plan to leave. There are things I could do here. I have more than enough collateral, thanks to the old man, to be able to do what I want. “Do you ever think about moving back here?”
“I don’t know.” She glances around, as though she’s never considered it. “I avoided this place for so long. And the charity. That’s really important to me. But these last couple weeks? I could see myself settling here long term.”
I lean against the bike. “What do you do, exactly? I mean what does House to Haven raise money for?”
“Kids.” She beams at me. “It’s all about making sure kids that don’t have anywhere to go have the basic necessities. But we try to make it a family environment, where they get the support they need on other levels as well.”
“Shit, sugar.” My chest swells with pride, and I squeeze her hand and pull her between my legs. Needing to touch her, needing her to understand without words how what she’s done with her life affects me. Does she even know how amazing, compassionate, and perfect she is?
“Every little bit helps, right?” She shrugs it off as though it’s nothing. “But it’s complicated now. Henley’s family’s company has more than doubled their backing for House to Haven since we started dating. I guess they liked the image I presented, because it was an important part of the contract we signed.”
“There’s nothing not to like about you.” I nibble her lip, tasting the sweetness and vanilla of the cream that had me hard as a rock.
“I’m pretty sure there is.” She starts ticking things off her fingers. “Stubborn to a fault, somewhat prone to doing irrational things, and the worst is I’m not as wholesome as the image I’ve been living with. I’m trying to provide these kids with a better life, a better view of the world, but I’m not perfect. I swear far too much, I drink, and…” she leans into me to whisper in my ear, “I have sex. Our donors aren’t going to back someone who doesn’t portray the image they expect.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” How they don’t see her the way I do is beyond me. It doesn’t matter that she’s not this pristine unadulterated image they want, she’s the most dedicated person I’ve ever known. They should be ecstatic to have her as a role model. “That’s bullshit. You’re amazing just as you are, and if your donors can’t see past your image to help the kids, then that’s on them, not on you.”
“If only it were so easy,” she says as she picks up her helmet. “Right now the idea of giving it all up and coming home, starting something new, is far more tempting than you can imagine.”
She’s wrong. I can see it clearly. I can see her here, with me. I could build her a house out on the land, look after her so she could concentrate on building something that’s so perfectly her, she could be exactly who she’s supposed to be.
By the time we pull into the front yard of Tom’s house, I can’t shake my plans. I walk her to the door, trying to concentrate on one day at a time and failing miserably. Cupping her cheek, I slant my mouth across hers for a beat. Sometime soon, I’m going to tell her brothers exactly how I feel about the girl I used to think of as a sister. “There’s something I need to deal with,” I say, letting her go. “It’s important.”
“What can be more important than me?” She chuckles, leaning up on tiptoe to tickle my throat with her lips. “Have another girl waiting in the wings?”
Taking both her hands in mine, I hold them to my chest while I stare into those beautiful violet eyes I can’t live without. “No one but you, sugar. But I have to go. I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” She smiles and slips inside, leaving me wondering how it could have taken me this long to come back to her.
Tom storms up the driveway as I’m striding over to my bike. He doesn’t acknowledge me, his expression thunderous as he passes. Shit, did he see me and Claire kissing on his front step? After his questions while we were golfing, I’d thought he’d worked it out, but n
othing had come of it. It had been an unsatisfying relief, because I almost want to get caught. Even though I’d rather lose my friends and family on my own terms, I still don’t know how to tell Mace. But if the way Tom’s scowling is anything to go by, I’m fucked if he knows now. Mace will know before the day is through. “What’s got you riled up?”
“Mind your own fucking business.” Tom glares at me and then marches inside, the door slamming behind him.
I have to believe he didn’t see anything, or he would have said something to my face and not brush me off the way he did. But nearly getting caught has me wondering how long we have before it’s no longer a possibility, but a reality.
Not that it changes this one-way collision course I’m on. Even though it should. Going inside and telling Claire we can’t do this anymore would be smarter than what I’m about to do. Because once I cross this line there’s no going back. I know this. Our actions have consequences that will destroy everything that’s important to me. She’s worth it, and I can deal with anything for her, but she might not be able to. Only an asshole would be selfish enough to put his own wants before those of the people he loves.
Apparently, I’m an asshole, because I find what I’m looking for in the directory on my cell. A company called Lance Starr that builds one-off homes. Then I ride out of Tom’s yard on a mission. It doesn’t take me long to find the place. The house that serves as an office is pretty damn impressive as I walk through the wall to ceiling wood and glass door. Bright white walls add to the warmth of honey colored wood floors, punctuated by a massive chandelier type structure. Tom probably had these guys build his house.
I check out the floor plans that hang in plastic holders attached to the wall. There are some pretty impressive looking options, but my ideas might take a little more work.
The man who walks through from the back office smiles and offers his hand. “You’re looking to build in Reverence?”
“Off Old Reverence Road. My grandfather used to own a big chunk of land out that way. I guess it’s mine now.”
“So you’d be a Bennington then?”
“Razer.” I say, not caring a flying fuck what some guy in a suit thinks of my last name.
“Knew you looked familiar,” he says, pumping my hand.
It punches me in the guts, the realization that the guy in the suit used to serve me drinks out at this shack of a pub called Wolf’s when we were both underage. There’d been a couple fights, too, where we’d had each other’s backs. “Mike Starr. Should have made the connection.”
“Why would you?” he asks. “We both grew up. So, building a house? Or are you looking at cabins or something like that?”
Claire’s violet-eyed gaze is burned into my retinas, urging me on. Not that she knows, not that I can even consider telling her just yet. We’ve only been together a couple weeks, but it’s like the past seven years count, too. I still don’t want to put a name to it. Not sure that I could. Not when I’ve loved her in so many different ways all my life. But this is different. The way she makes my chest feel like it’s going to explode is something I haven’t felt before. And it makes me want to build, but not just anything. A house with lots of bedrooms, and a wide wrap-around porch. The kind where I can set a couple of rocking chairs for when we’re old.
“Definitely a house.”
“Planning on settling back in town?” Mike asks, getting up to grab a couple floor plans from the displays. “These are just the basics. We’ll modify them until you’re happy.”
“I haven’t decided.” It feels too soon to say that’s definitely what I want. I’m flying blind, and Claire has no idea how serious I am about her. She’s still six years younger than me. Young enough to change her mind on what she wants at any given moment. She might not be ready to settle here. It’s clear she loves her career, and she has friends waiting for her. But this is home. It always has been. Maybe I forgot that until I came back, but I know I want to stay. Tom’s here, and Mace is thinking about staying. Family means so much to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince her that being closer to her brothers would be a good thing. That staying here with me will make her happy.
The only problem will be convincing her brothers.
Chapter Fourteen
Claire
Razer catches me as I’m on my way out to the backyard where the boys are grilling, and playing a competitive game of Frisbee. It’s almost the end of summer, almost time for me to go home, but the idea of not being with Razer is almost all I can think about. If it weren’t for the ball, I’d drag out my stay. But I have to go back. I have responsibilities I can’t keep putting off. But Razer, maybe he could come with me. I wonder if I could convince him to follow me, until I’ve dealt with Henley, and the contracts for House to Haven. I’ve got to be there for the ball, but after that, maybe I could run the charity from a distance, or hand it over to someone. Maybe Olivia would be happy to step up. She certainly deserves it with all that she does. She’d be the logical choice. I could tell Razer I’m scared of Henley, that I need him to be my bodyguard. Or I could tell him the truth. That I need him, and I don’t want time or distance between us again. My heart pounds at the idea of blurting it out like that. But it’s a pleasant sensation compared to the ache that accompanies the thought of leaving him behind. He pulls me away from the door, pressing me up against the wall and seeking out my mouth while his hands tickle my ribcage.
I squirm under his touch, my arms wrapped around his neck. “Someone is going to catch us.”
“They’re preoccupied. I just needed to taste you,” he whispers in my ear before grazing his lips down my neck.
I whimper, savouring the heat of his palms as he grasps my ass and presses up against me. We’ve been doing this sneaking around thing for a couple weeks now. We’ve decided we’re going to tell Mace and Tom, then the rest of our family before I leave. Not that we’re sure how it will work when I go home, and he heads to Lanston. If it’ll work. Maybe it won’t. Maybe these weeks will be all we get, but we’re going to deal with that when we get to it. Although I’m not into thinking about it, not when he’s got his mouth on me, making me come alive under his touch.
“We need a few more beers,” Mace yells as he barges into the kitchen.
We don’t have time to jump apart, to hide the way my leg is wrapped around Razer’s hip, or that his hand is on my ass. Shit.
Heat rises in my face while I watch Mace’s expression turn from shock to confusion to anger. Then he storms toward us, snarling, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Razer steps in front of me, his hands up between them. Calm, even when I know he’s running through all the reasons we shouldn’t do this, all those times he tried to convince me it wasn’t a good idea. “Mace, calm down. Let’s talk about this.”
“You want to talk?” Mace snarls, balling Razer’s shirt in his meaty fist, dragging him outside and toward the wooden steps that lead to the yard. “No fucker touches my sister.”
Razer doesn’t put up a fight, or even try to stand his ground.
“Get your ass over here, Tom!” Mace yells.
"It's none of your business, Mace." I yank on his arm as they hit the wooden steps, but it’s like trying to stop a freight train. Impossible.
"Stay out of it, Little Bit.” He swats me away. “This is between me and him."
"It's okay, sugar." Razer says, continuing to allow Mace to manhandle him, though I’m praying he won’t let him for much longer.
Tom leaves his beer beside Mace’s at the side of the grill, and cups my shoulders to keep me from following my brother and Razer down onto the grass. And all the while Lucky jumps around the two of them, barking incessantly, wanting to get in on the action.
"Don't you wail on him, Mace,” I yell while he rolls up his sleeves. “Don't you dare.”
Mace put his hands up in fists and circles Razer, who stands there for a minute as if he’s going to let Mace beat the shit out of him. My heart bottoms out, a
nd for a moment I don’t think he’s going to protect himself, like he thinks he deserves whatever Mace wants to deal out. Relief floods me when he puts his fists up in front of his face and says, “I don’t want to fight you, Mace. You and I never did fight well against each other.”
“I think we’ll do just fine, now that you’ve slept with my sister.” Mace snarls as he lunges forward, but Razer blocks his fist easily. “She’s too fucking good for you.”
"This isn't happening," I say with a groan, ducking my head and trying to hide the hot flush of my cheeks.
"Of course it is." Tom chuckles, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. "But it's okay. The four of us, me and Mace, Razer, even Rush, made a pact."
"What?" I gasp.
"Do you think we were going to let you fall in love with a man who isn't worthy of our little sister? If he wants you, he has to prove it."
"But we're not, I’m not.... in love with him." Of course I am. Have been for years. Nothing has changed the way he takes up space in my heart. I pretended this was about getting what I wanted for a change. About destroying my good girl persona and the fact that he makes me horny as hell, but that was weeks ago, before I realized I couldn’t get over him by sleeping with him. But the big L word? The one on my checklist? Is that how I feel about Razer?
"Of course you are. Have been since you were sixteen. You’re still sleeping in his old T-shirt.”
“I’m not.” But I don’t tell him that’s because Razer ripped it off my naked body, or that I have one that he gave me more recently. Because he wanted me to remember what we are now when I snuggle into the soft cotton. I can’t have feelings that deep. If the way I feel about him is so strong, how could I have been so selfish to put him in this position? And for what? He said I could have expectations, but we’re no longer talking about sticking around. Not that I can. I have to go home soon. Back to the real world. I have to face Henley, and take my place as the face of House to Haven. And even if people weren’t relying on me, could I have happily ever after type expectations of Razer?
