Inked Obsession

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  I snorted. “I can do that.” I didn’t want to talk about work, especially since this was a project my dad had gotten on my case about in the past. He might be better now, but I was still jumpy. I tilted my glass towards Jacob in thanks. He winked. I was starting to like my brother-in-law more and more.

  “Oh, good, they came,” Annabelle said as she looked over my shoulder. I turned around to see her two best friends walking in. They were my friends, too. Brenna and Eliza walked towards us as they smiled and waved. Well, Brenna waved, though it was a little awkward, the one she did when she felt out of sorts. I had known Brenna longer than even Annabelle had. I was the one who’d introduced them. Lee, Brenna, Benjamin, and I were a unit. We just fit together. I wouldn’t call Brenna one of the guys because she wasn’t, but I liked having her around. She wasn’t my sister, but she was a friend that knew nearly everything about me.

  Not everything, I reminded myself.

  And then there was Eliza Wilder-Strong. I had no idea how to feel about Eliza—and it had nothing to do with what she’d been through, and everything to do with what I shouldn’t be feeling or wanting.

  It had been a year since her husband hadn’t come home from his tour overseas, and I knew the anniversary was coming up. And all of us were doing an excellent job of not talking about it when we were in a big group. I knew she talked with Annabelle and Brenna because she had mentioned it, but that wasn’t something we talked about.

  I was friends with Brenna, but not so much Eliza. However, Eliza was always on the periphery. She had been married when I met her, and I hadn’t really known her for long. We were friends, and I did my best not to think of her in any way but as my married friend. Fuck, she was sexy as hell and had the best smile.

  Her eyes were still sad but maybe I was just seeing things. She was so damn strong, and I liked her—I just didn’t know what to do around her. And I knew she hated that, so I tried to be my normal, gruff self. Probably not the best way to go about things, but I couldn’t change that without wanting more, and there was no way I would cross that line.

  Ever.

  “I’m glad you guys made it,” Annabelle said as she tried to scoot off the barstool to hug the girls.

  Brenna waved her hand. “No, you stay right there, pregnant lady.”

  “Oh my God, it’s going to be all of you, isn’t it?” Annabelle asked. “You’re all going to force me to sit and rest and eat well and take care of myself…and why am I even complaining?” She laughed as Brenna leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  Eliza slid between Annabelle and me, and I inhaled her soft scent. That was odd. I’d never noticed the way Eliza smelled before—or at least I tried to hold back so I wouldn’t accidentally want more. What the hell was wrong with me? Maybe it was because I’d been thinking about what I might be doing later with Sally and then that hadn’t panned out. My mind had gone to the only other available woman. Because Brenna was not in that box for me, and I was related to everyone else. Hell, Eliza wasn’t exactly available either. At least, I didn’t think so. Jesus, I needed to stop thinking about her in that way. I was usually better about putting her in the friend box because she needed to be off-limits.

  And she was off-limits, damn it.

  “We made it,” Eliza said with a small smile, her voice soft. “I always find it weird that you guys come on weeknights instead of weekends.” She’d pulled her long, dark hair back from her face in a messy bun that seemed almost chic. She wore tight jeans, and a flowy top with sparkles that made me glance at her chest. I did my best not to look down, but hell, her breasts were fucking amazing.

  And, once again, I was going to hell. Maybe I needed to go home and get some sleep. Not that I liked sleeping these days. The nightmares always came. Once again, I wasn’t going to let my thoughts go down that path.

  I cleared my throat, doing my best to not think about Eliza or her curves. “We like to come on weeknights because we plan a late morning on Fridays. That way, we can meet with clients on the weekend that can’t meet with us during the week because of their schedules. And we’re not here when it’s disturbingly packed. We’re not young anymore.”

  Eliza grinned. “Thank you for calling me old, Beckett. It makes me feel special.”

  I winced. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Ouch, bro,” Lee said as he and Benjamin came over. We were a huge crowd at the end of the bar now, but Riggs kept filling everybody’s drinks, most of us having switched to water or soda at this point.

  We laughed and talked about anything but work. Eventually, I went over to the jukebox to see what to play next. I didn’t feel like going home. Didn’t feel like going to sleep. I caught Lee’s gaze and knew he knew why I was still here, but I ignored the look. I ignored him. I did my best to ignore everything.

  I keyed up the next song and then noticed Eliza frowning at a man I didn’t recognize out of the corner of my eye. The guy loomed over her, one palm on the wall behind her. And while she didn’t back down, didn’t look scared, she had no way to get out, either.

  She met my gaze, and I saw the pleading look there.

  Well, hell. I moved over and tilted my head at her, the movement catching the stranger’s attention. “Hey, babe, I thought we were dancing,” I said.

  She blushed and rolled her eyes, but I didn’t think the other man noticed.

  “Babe?” the guy asked.

  “I’m going to take my girl out on the dance floor. You mind getting out of her space?” The guy frowned, and I took Eliza’s hand. “Ready to dance, babe?”

  She smiled up at me, and my dick went hard. What the fuck? Jesus, I needed to get laid or get some sleep. I didn’t have those kinds of feelings about Eliza. Ever. Or I didn’t let myself. I was only helping her out of a sticky situation because we were friends. That was it. I wouldn’t think about her pressing against me as I touched her. What it would be like to taste her.

  Nope.

  Not going there.

  Damn it.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” I took her out to the dance floor, a slow song starting to play over the speakers.

  The guy looked at us, shrugged, grabbed his beer, and went over to his friends. I didn’t recognize him. He looked to be an out-of-towner. We were in Fort Collins, so it wasn’t like I recognized everybody in the damn city, but on a weeknight in our small bar? I usually knew people.

  “Thanks,” Eliza said, and I squeezed her hip. “You don’t have to save me, Beckett.”

  “I don’t mind dancing with you, Eliza.” And I meant it, even if I was tired, and my back had started to ache something fierce. Or that every time I was near her these days, I wanted to lean down and sniff her. I’d developed an addiction to something I shouldn’t have, and I needed to quell that need damn quick.

  She sighed. “Well, thanks for saving me—like everyone seems to be doing these days.”

  The way she said it made me frown, but then a sliver of memory slammed into me. I pushed it away. “I don’t always save people,” I bit out, my voice cool.

  She stared at me, questions in her gaze, but she didn’t ask them. Good, because I didn’t have answers for her. “Okay, Beckett. Okay.”

  I didn’t save everybody. And I knew that.

  The dance was slow, but I wasn’t paying attention. Didn’t see anything. Didn’t even see him. Didn’t catch that soft scent again. I just swayed as the others gave us odd looks as they danced around us. I ignored it all.

  Because I didn’t save everybody. Not even myself.

  Chapter 2

  Eliza

  * * *

  I let Beckett lead me to the bar where the others stood, then he made his way out of the place saying a gruff goodbye. I didn’t really feel like he was with us completely. And maybe he hadn’t been for a while. Then again, perhaps I hadn’t either.

  I frowned, and the others frowned with me.

  “What was that?” Brenna asked, her voice sharp. I cringed inwardly and did my best to school
my features. Brenna and Beckett were close—very close. At one point, I’d thought she had feelings for him that went beyond friendship, but now I wasn’t so sure. Brenna was so tightly guarded when it came to her feelings and relationships. I wasn’t even sure if they’d ever slept together, and I was usually pretty good at reading people.

  Just not when it came to my friendship with Brenna.

  I didn’t want to get in the middle of it, but there I was, randomly dancing with Beckett in my memory. He had saved me from a man I didn’t really want to dance with but who wouldn’t take no for an answer. I hadn’t felt in danger, but I hadn’t wanted to make a scene either. There was a difference. At least, that’s what I told myself. Beckett had taken me out onto the dance floor so it would no longer be an issue. And now I was supposed to deal with this? This feeling of comfort and need that hadn’t been there before? I’d been married. I wasn’t supposed to think about anyone else that way. Let alone Beckett, my best friend’s brother.

  Sometimes, it was hard to remember that I was a single woman. That me dancing with others could be construed as something more than just time with a friend or someone who wanted to save me.

  We’d had such an odd conversation on that dance floor. Now it was over, and I wasn’t looking at those dark blue eyes anymore, or his brown hair that I noticed was getting a little too long and brushed his collar. Beckett Montgomery was wide like the rest of the Montgomery men, broad-shouldered with a thick chest that tapered down to a slender waist and thick thighs. They all looked as if they worked out to stay healthy rather than to body build—except Benjamin, Beckett’s twin, was a little bit leaner. They were some of the most attractive men I’d ever met, and they weren’t for me. No one was for me. After all, I had already found forever once. I didn’t plan on doing it again.

  Even if my gaze sometimes strayed to Beckett and stayed far longer than it should.

  “Earth to Eliza,” Brenna said.

  I cleared my throat, blushing. I shouldn’t have been thinking about Beckett or the Montgomerys at all like that. I was exhausted. That had to be it. It was hard to sleep when the calendar kept turning, and you felt as if you couldn’t keep up.

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I think I’m a little tired.”

  Everyone gave me a sad look, and I held back a wince. There it was, the beginning of: Oh, I’m sorry. Poor Eliza. She must be so sad. She lost her husband. And she wasn’t even able to say goodbye. Everybody had placed a giant W like a scarlet letter on my shirt. I would be forever labeled a widow. Even by my best friends. Because none of us knew how to deal with this. I didn’t even spend time with the other military wives these days because we lived so far off base. I hadn’t really jelled with them anyway. My friends were all civilians, and they didn’t truly understand what it meant to be a Gold Star widow.

  Not that I knew what that meant either, as it was different for each person. It seemed that every gaze that landed on me held pity in it, some deeper than others, some with pain that I wasn’t sure was for me. They wondered what to say to the woman who seemed fine, though they figured she had to be lying about her true feelings. Because she couldn’t be fine so soon after losing her husband. She had to still be in deep pain and mourning and wailing over a coffin barely a year out. She couldn’t be finding her place and ready to move on, or having dreams about a sexy, bearded man.

  I gritted my teeth, knowing that wasn’t fair to anyone. They didn’t know what I was feeling or thinking because I didn’t tell them. I put a smile on my face. And if I told them that I was okay, that I was healing, they wouldn’t believe me. Or they would think me callous. Even my best friends would, wouldn’t they? Because I missed my husband with every ounce of my soul, and I loved him, but I was okay. I was breathing, I was healing. And I was okay. I didn’t think the world truly understood that.

  I shook off my melancholic thoughts and smiled, doing my best not to look too happy or sad.

  Brenna had been asking about Beckett. I needed to get back in the moment and stop dwelling on the past. “Some random stranger hit on me, and Beckett did his normal thing and tried to save me.” I rolled my eyes and smiled, and Brenna’s shoulders relaxed. The others seemed to do the same. There was nothing else I could do. Nothing I could say to change the way people thought about me. I just had to be me—whatever that meant, since I wasn’t really sure.

  “That’s Beckett for you. Always saving everybody.”

  I held back a frown at that because he had said he hadn’t saved everyone. What had he meant by that? That he wasn’t pushy and tried not to get involved in everyone’s life? Because I really didn’t think that was the case. It had to be something else. I didn’t know. However, it wasn’t my place. I had only been thinking that I didn’t want people looking at me differently and wondering what I was thinking, or to think too hard about me at all. Yet, here I was, doing the same thing about Beckett Montgomery. I needed to be better.

  I cleared my throat. “Anyway, I am going home if that’s okay with everybody.”

  Annabelle opened her mouth to say something but then yawned. I snorted as Jacob quickly bundled her into his arms, though he did set her feet down on the floor first. I had a feeling if he knew that Annabelle wouldn’t mind, he would probably have carried her out of the building like a prince carrying his princess.

  “Well, it seems I’m tired, too,” Annabelle said on a laugh, and I just shook my head. I couldn’t believe that my best friend was pregnant. It seemed like just yesterday she had been fighting with Jacob over every single little thing. Of course, that fighting had been a clue to something else, something far hotter, and now they were married and living in Annabelle’s house. I was currently renting Jacob’s old place from them and living right next door. Even if some people might think it a little too much like charity, it was an ideal situation. I paid the average rent for the neighborhood. I had a decent job, and I was fine. I didn’t know what else to be. It wasn’t like I had anywhere else to go. Colorado had become my home. I was going to make it mine. Somehow.

  “I guess that’s it for the night,” Lee said, and I looked up at the man. Like Brenna and me, Lee wasn’t a Montgomery. He was one of Beckett’s best friends—also Benjamin’s. He fit in with everybody, though, even though he worked long hours and we rarely got to see him. It was nice to see him out and about tonight. Of course, that’s what people would likely say about me.

  It’s so nice to see you out and about, living but not too much. You shouldn’t have too much fun, because that will shade his memory.

  I winced inwardly again because that wasn’t what my friends were thinking. I knew that. No, that was the other people in my life. Not my family, but the others at the base, and those who knew me casually from work. They didn’t know me, not really, and I didn’t want them to. I didn’t know what I wanted.

  And that was enough of that.

  I waved everybody off and headed to my car. Brenna sidled up next to me as she had parked one spot over. “Are you doing okay tonight?” she asked, her voice soft.

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and gave her a side-hug. “I am. It’s good to get out. I don’t do it enough.”

  “Are you doing okay?” I asked after a moment.

  She shrugged and smiled up at me. “I guess. Long days.”

  I nodded and hugged her tightly. Brenna was a cake decorator, and though she didn’t own a shop per se, she worked long hours and was in high demand. To the point that if I even wanted a cake, I was pretty sure I’d have a six-month wait.

  “We’ll do this again. Maybe next week?” Brenna asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. I’m going to do better about getting out.”

  “You’re already doing great, Eliza.” She hugged me tightly, and I leaned into her, knowing that I was safe in her arms. Just like I was safe in many of my friends’ arms. I could be the self-conscious one, trying to cope, attempting to figure out who I was and who I needed to be as a widow. Even though I might be afraid of what my friend
s thought of me, I shouldn’t be. I knew they loved me, and I had to remember that.

  After saying goodbye, I made my way home, slowly pulling into my driveway. Annabelle and Jacob had made it home before me, and their garage door was just closing. Annabelle must be tired—or even asleep in the passenger seat—for them to have pulled in without waving goodnight. I didn’t mind. Everyone’s family was changing, and it was nice. Soon, there would be a little baby next door, one I’d be able to hold and cherish even if it gave me a slight twinge.

  I didn’t need to think about that. Ever, I reminded myself.

  I checked around the house, got myself some water, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and then slid into bed.

  It was a different mattress than the one I’d had in my home with Marshall. It was a different everything. This wasn’t the home I had shared with my husband. Most people told me not to make big moves and changes within the first year of losing him, but the rent had come up, and my lease had ended in our old home. I knew that place wasn’t for me anymore. It had been Marshall’s, the place he had liked. He was rarely home. He was always on tour. So, when I lost him, I had chosen a place for myself. Even though, in reality, I had picked somewhere that was available and happened to be owned by a friend. I was saving up, and I’d soon be able to buy a place of my own. My work was going well, actually, I had health insurance through the military, and I had a savings thanks to life insurance and SGLI, the Servicemembers' Group Life Insurance. It was weird that I even got a death gratuity because of losing Marshall. A gratuity for death.

  As if they planned on having their people die overseas and had a checklist for what happened to those left behind.

  I shook my head and lay down, trying to close my eyes. There were all sorts of checklists for widows. I had even printed one out from the internet so I knew what I needed to do. Paperwork-wise, house-wise, and everything else-wise.

  Of course, most of the things regarding health and personal stuff I was already doing by myself. Marshall had rarely been home. It was like having two different lives. One where my husband lived with me, and one where I was a woman waiting for her husband to return home. Now, I knew he would never be coming home.