by Cari Quinn
“I’ll take a rain check on the coffee,” I managed, registering her frown before I picked up my duffel and aimed for the door.
“Leaving so soon? That was quick, even for you.”
She gasped as I spun around and pinned her against the counter, bracing my hand on the closed cupboard door above her head.
“Don’t. Slater is here.”
“I know. I owe him enough for taking care of you when I didn’t that I won’t dishonor him twice in his own home. But that doesn’t mean I don’t intend to come back here and claim what’s mine.” I rubbed my half-hard cock against her ass, relishing the whimper she couldn’t contain. “I’m not leaving again, sweetness. You may not believe that right now, but know this: I don’t give up. I don’t acknowledge defeat. And I won’t stop fighting for what I want.” I brushed a kiss over her temple. “Not even death will tear me away from you again.”
Chapter Four
Abby
He’d done it to me again.
Two plus years ago when Liam had told me we were through, he’d said it in a borderline poetic way that ensured the words would never leave my head. Not when I was washing the dishes or organizing racks of dresses or even taking a shower. Those final words followed me everywhere, taunting me no matter how hard I tried to vanquish him from my thoughts.
The most loving thing I can do for you is to let you go.
Now he’d come back and directed another kill shot my way. Except this time he was promising to never give up on me, and I was as frightened as I’d been at the prospect of a lifetime without him.
How could I withstand a storm like Liam Walsh twice?
I was still standing there at the counter, futilely digging the scoop through the coffee over and over again like a kid playing with dirt¸ when Slater crossed the living room. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then he let out a long sigh.
“Gone again, huh? I was going to tell him he could crash here for a while if he needed to, but I guess I didn’t move fast enough.”
That had me lifting my head. “Even as furious and hurt as you are, you wanted to give him a place to stay?”
Slater shoved his hands under his arms and gazed off into the distance¸ his jaw working. “He’s my brother.”
“Yeah.” I blew out a breath. “He’s a good man.”
“I know that. You think I don’t know that? If he hadn’t been so fucking good, it wouldn’t have ripped out my guts every time he left and I didn’t know if we’d ever get him back again.”
I gripped the counter and nodded, screwing my eyes shut. I understood that fear so well. We’d had only a few crazy, amazing months together before he’d been dispatched across the country for advanced training. The bulk of our relationship had been based on letters and phone calls and all-too-brief amounts of time together before he’d headed out to Afghanistan. We’d both known how dangerous that could be, but we hadn’t spoken about it. I’d retreated into myself, consumed with the changes I was facing along with my concerns, and he’d eventually stopped trying to reach me.
Right before he left that final time, he told me we were done. For my own good, he’d said. A good that had torn holes in me I was beginning to think would never heal.
“I understand,” I whispered, incapable of saying more.
“I’m sorry, Abalicious.”
The nickname made me smile through the tears I was free to cry now that Liam had left. Slater swore and rushed over to me, turning me into his chest while I clung to the stupid scoop.
“It’s okay, babe. It’s okay.”
I shook my head, not because it wasn’t, but because he was right. If Liam walked away again, it would hurt me like hell, but I would survive. What I didn’t know if I could handle was him staying. There was so much he didn’t know—that slice of our shared past I had never told him about, words I wasn’t sure I could say even now.
Fucking words. They were never enough, though they were all we had.
Slater let me cry it out for a few minutes. Eventually, he gently withdrew the scoop from my hand and stuck it back in the coffee before replacing the lid and stowing the can where it belonged. He didn’t drink the stuff. His idea of a warm beverage was hot cocoa, and that was only on the coldest winter days. Normally, he drank soda and bottled water by the case. He only stocked coffee because I’d insisted I had to have it in the cupboard, even if I rarely could bring myself to drink it.
Neurotic was I.
“Let’s go sit,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into the other room.
I followed, docile as could be. Liam might still have energy to fight, but I was operating at low ebb.
Once we’d curled up together in our usual position, Slater stroked my hair and settled my head on his chest.
“Better now?”
“Yes.” There was no denying it. Slater and I weren’t lovers, but we were good friends, and his arms offered me desperately needed comfort when there wasn’t a lot to be found.
“He worked you over good, huh?”
A sigh rumbled through him, and I shot him a wary glance. He hated drama of any kind, and it had showed up in a big way on his doorstep that morning.
“I never saw you two together the first time, but, damn, girl, I sure saw you now. When you walked out of that bedroom, you were flushed brighter than your hair.”
My cheeks sizzled under the fresh influx of warmth, and I ducked my head, hiding like the coward I was.
“Pretty sure I’m blushing again now,” I muttered.
He laughed, and most of my discomfort eased.
“Hey, honey, you know we’re not like that. Anymore,” he said, tipping up my chin with a twinkle in his green eyes. They were several shades lighter than his older brother’s and almost as lovely. “And he had you first. Lucky bastard.”
“Had me and rejected me, you mean.”
“Wow, no feminist rant about not being able to be had?” he teased. “Jeez, I must be losing my ability to piss you off.”
“Nah, more like Liam did enough peeing on trees this morning for both of you. I’m too tired to keep tilting at windmills.”
“He wouldn’t pee on your tree if he didn’t love the hell out it. You know that. My brother’s a lot of things, but he’s always been able to let women go with little trouble.”
“You’re getting warmer when it comes to pissing me off.”
His chuckle had me settling against his chest again. Warmth flowed through me, buffing away some of the rough spots. It wasn’t anything close to desire and hadn’t been since those first few madcap days after we’d met, but I knew Liam wouldn’t see our snuggling as harmless.
Liam. It was back to being his show, and I was just the latest planet to revolve around his sun. Drawn to his heat and power and magnetism and helpless to turn back toward the dark.
“Hey, talk about pissed off, he didn’t even tell you about me.” He tugged on my hair and sighed. “Though I can’t say I didn’t do something similar.”
“He did tell me about you,” I protested. “Sort of. He mentioned his younger brother and how close you’d been. It was just…well, there’s no delicate way to say it. When we were together for those insane, incredible months in between his leaves, we weren’t spending a lot of time discussing our families and the rest of our lives.” I sighed. “Of course, it made it easier that I didn’t have one. My dad had been gone so long, and my job was just a job. Fun, yes, but it wasn’t a career. I hadn’t touched a piano in years at that point.”
That was my way. When I got hurt, I closed off certain parts of my life. My dad had been so proud of my music, so certain I was going to really make something of myself, that when he’d passed, I couldn’t bear to even touch the keys. Then, after Liam, I’d shut down on anything domestic. I stopped cooking, stopped making those stupid knitted doodads that he’d chuckled over. I’d turned away from that Abby and returned to my roots, holing up with a stubby pencil in my hand in front of the piano I’d bought secondhand.
It hadn’t been hard to shack up with Slater after we’d met that random day on the beach—our beach, as I thought of the space I’d shared with Liam—and move clear across the country because I’d had nothing to tether me to California except memories. Besides, I left there with the boy who didn’t just look remarkably like Liam but had his DNA, though I didn’t know that until we’d spent a few days in hardcore flirtation mode.
“After I found out your last name, I remembered the name Slater,” I said, tracing the faded Surf Shack emblem on Slater’s old T-shirt. “He’d referred to you a couple times. The name just hadn’t stuck because you weren’t part of his life anymore. I remembered Jenna, though.”
Sweet, fun, ebullient Jenna. Nothing ever seemed to knock her down for long. She came over to Slater’s pretty often now that she’d gotten her own apartment a few blocks away, and I could tell how much she missed her older brother. She managed to work his name in so many conversations. It was always “Liam did this” or “Liam used to say….”
“Yeah, she adored that guy. Still does, despite his not being in contact with her for years. The two of us not talking is one thing. But Jen’s different.” Slater tightened his jaw until it cracked. “A few months after we moved to New York, she started sending letters to him at our parents’ beach house and never got an answer. When I showed up there that week that you and I hooked up, I was ready to kick his ass. Of course, he was out of contact again, playing superhero.”
“And I was wandering around on a private strip of beach because it had been two years and I still couldn’t move on.” Swallowing hard, I tipped back my head to meet his gaze. “Those letters of Jenna’s…I stacked them up on his desk while he was away. Well, at least while we were together.”
“I’m sure you did.” Slater patted my arm. “The decision not to answer was his.”
I frowned. Had he ever even seen the letters? From the way he’d asked about Jen in that hollow voice, he sounded utterly alone. I hadn’t pressed them on him, but maybe I’d assumed too much that he’d gone through his paperwork. That had never been his strong suit. He’d always been the big picture guy.
“Slater, what if he never knew?”
Slater’s eyebrows drew together. “Didn’t know what?”
His question triggered a flood of unexpected emotion, and I cupped my flat stomach, remembering those few frighteningly wonderful days when I’d tried to come to terms with being a mother. It had been too soon. We hadn’t planned to start a family right away, though we’d already been talking about marriage. Hell, we’d been talking about marriage practically from the first day we met. It had been a joke that had rapidly become serious. A tease that had turned into a plan.
We were both focused on the future, and I’d fought to ignore my fears that he wouldn’t come home to me someday. I’d thrown up every morning the first few days after he was deployed that last time and told myself it had to be just nerves.
Except it wasn’t.
“Hey there, honey, what’s the matter?” Slater pressed, his tone heartbreakingly gentle.
That was Slater to a T. He was tender in every way his brother was hard. But I’d learned that Slater had a rougher side and was perfectly capable of boiling over in fury just like Liam. And Liam could definitely be sweet, for stolen, poignant moments that were all the more special because they were rare.
“There are things I haven’t told you,” I said hesitantly, wishing I could unburden myself to Slater, even if I never found the voice to do the same with Liam. But I couldn’t. Liam deserved to know first that he’d been a father, if only for a short time.
“Yeah, well, I figured that much.” Slater tugged on one of my hoop earrings. “Hot chicks always have secrets. They know that a sense of mystery only increases the sexy factor.”
A laugh bubbled out of me, caught by my hand as I struggled to restrain tears. I’d been good for so long, not crying for months on end. Now, after a few hours in Liam’s presence, I’d turned into a weepy mess. “I’m not trying to seem mysterious. Normally, I’m pretty much an open book. You know that.”
“I do.” He tilted his head, peering into my eyes. “Wanna talk about it, or is it for Liam’s ears only?”
“I do want to talk about it. So much.” I squeezed his hand. “But I can’t until I…discuss it with him. It just wouldn’t be fair.” I let out a watery laugh. “I’m not really sure I’ll ever be able to summon the nerve, though, so I might be changing my mind on that score down the road.”
“My shoulder’s always available.”
“I know. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever realize.”
“Other parts of me could’ve been available, too, but you chose to go with the memory of the studly military man.”
“Ha. Is it a choice? It doesn’t feel like I ever had much of one since I met Liam.”
“It’s always a choice. Loving someone is a decision. People always say that you can’t help who you fall in love with. Maybe that’s true, but you can make up your mind what you intend to do about it.”
Sniffling, I poked him in the chest, right above the faded surfboard on his shirt. “If that’s true, how come you haven’t fallen yet?”
Lips curved, he lifted one shoulder. “I haven’t made the choice.” He tapped my chin. “I did come close a time or two, but the timing’s never been right. Guess that’s another part of making the choice that love is worth the risk. It’s a matter of deciding that no obstacle is large enough to warrant missing out on the possible reward.”
“That’s the key word. Possible. Between a sure thing and possible, there’s a hell of a lot of room for heartbreak.”
“You gotta weigh the odds. Is it better to sleep alone every night, clinging to what’s safe?”
“This is starting to sound an awful lot like a pitch session for one Liam Michael Walsh,” I said, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.
He grinned and tossed back his long, sun-streaked hair. As the summer wore on, the light brown gave up the ghost entirely to the blond.
“Now, sugar, why would I do that? You know I don’t even get along with the guy. You saw that for yourself.” He rubbed a thumb over my bare shoulder. “Plus he thought he was nailing my woman, something I’m pretty sure he did with zest.”
“Lots of zest,” I muttered, earning his laugh.
“But he had you first, and you’re not mine anyway. So.”
“So.”
He gripped my hand, still clutching my belly. “Whatever your secrets are, whatever you’re afraid of happening with Liam, don’t keep yourself from taking a chance you’ll regret later. Getting a broken heart isn’t the worst thing that can happen. The worst is looking back and wishing you’d tried one more time.”
“Says the guy who hasn’t been in love.”
“I didn’t say that, now did I? I said I hadn’t made the choice.”
Shaking my head, I shut my eyes. “You’re giving me a headache.”
“Let me make it really simple for you. Do you still love the guy?”
“Yes.”
I wish I’d had to debate that answer, at least with myself, but it was so frigging crystal clear. Liam had grabbed hold of me years ago with his sexy smirk and protective streak and sense of humor, and I still hadn’t managed to break free.
Truth be told, I didn’t want to. Letting go seemed so final if it meant I’d never know a love like the one I had with Liam again. And how could I be sure? Maybe we all got only one opportunity. I’d had an unbelievable one.
“Not even death will tear me away from you again.”
I shuddered. He was right about that. Not even death could make me forget what we’d created. The shortness of the time we’d had together only made it seem more special. Perhaps if we tried to make a go of it again, we’d fail. It was easier to focus on the best parts of someone when they were only around sporadically.
But he was still a SEAL. Still out there risking his life. Could I deal with that unrelenting fear of lo
sing him again every day of my life?
“That didn’t take long,” Slater said quietly.
“No.”
He stroked my hair as I settled on his shoulder.
“If it is a choice, does it make me a coward for being too afraid to make it?”
“No, it makes you smart and sensible.”
“And alone,” I added with a sigh.
“Not totally alone. You have me. We’ll be platonic pals until the end of time.”
“I appreciate that, really.”
“Uh huh. You appreciate it. But I can’t give you hot sex.” His laughter made me grin up at him in spite of my tears. “Well, I could….”
I elbowed him and laughed, too, before I sobered. “What about you? Are you going to give him another chance?”
Slater’s cocky grin faded around the edges. “I made the choice to love him a long time ago. Now I’m just following through.” He exhaled. “And, maybe, making up for some lost time while I’m at it.”
That made me smile. I wanted Liam and Slater to become close again. Everything that happened would’ve been worth it if they found their way back to each other.
If only the little voice at the back of my mind would just shut up for five damn minutes.
“This is all well and good, but he might not come back. He might decide this was all too much work and he’s not willing to deal with combat on two fronts.”
“That’s true. But I know my brother, babe, and the guy I saw here today looked like he was ready to do battle.” Slater tucked my hair behind my ear, waiting until I faced him squarely. “You just need to decide if he’s worth fighting for.”
Chapter Five
Liam
By the time I walked out of Underground Ink, I had a new addition to my partial sleeve, tucked away in the ornate scrollwork I’d gotten in Virginia. I hadn’t hidden the new ink intentionally, but I definitely didn’t mind where José, my tattoo artist, had decided it worked best. I wanted to carry Abby on my body, and the two-circle symbol for a two-note chord had seemed too perfect to ignore. Luckily, José knew more about music than I did and had made the suggestion based on a brief—very brief—history of our relationship.
