by KB Winters
“Fuck yes. You’ve never looked better.” He gathered me into his arms and kissed me like he’d been waiting a hundred years. His fingers worked through my hair. “Now, let’s get you out of these clothes so I can see every inch of you.”
Shivers trembled down my spine as I took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom.
Chapter Eight
Emma
The dress I’d worn to the wake didn’t last long. Dylan stripped it off of me as soon as we were in the bedroom. His eyes raked over me, hungry and urgent. I stepped closer to him and reached up to cup the side of his face. A layer of scruff had grown since the first day I’d seen him. It reminded me of the way he’d looked during the summer before he left, when the military was still an unspoken plan. Instead of feeling sad at the memory, I was filled with excitement and heat. We’d made love so many times that summer. In the back of his dad’s car, parked anywhere we could find a dark corner. The windows would fog up, and I’d make little toe prints on the front windshield. He’d scold me but wear a smile the whole time.
Was that the same man standing in front of me? It was hard to imagine myself being that carefree and reckless again—but was he?
As though picking up on my distracted thoughts, he dipped his head and kissed me softly at first. His kiss was familiar and exhilarating at the same time. It felt wrong and right all at the same time. To feel his hands moving up my tummy to my bra. To feel his fingertips trace the swell where my boobs met.
When I couldn’t tell where his mouth ended and mine began, all the thoughts of being wrong or any guilt flew out the window. This was what I wanted. What I needed. And I didn’t want to let him go. Not again.
“You feel good, Em,” he told me as his hands moved around my back. “I missed you so much.”
He unhooked my bra and tugged it away. His eyes went wild at my bared breasts, and his breathing picked up.
“I missed you, too,” I choked out between breaths. He traced my boob with the back of his fingers, and my body lit up. I dropped my head back and let the feel of his warm fingers wash over me.
When he kissed me again it was hot and intense. Hot slickness slid between my thighs, and it was all I could do to keep myself from begging him to touch my aching pussy. My heart pounded hard and fast in my ears, blocking out every thought or distraction. For the first time in forever, we were the only people in the world.
My fingers scratched up Dylan’s back, dragging his t-shirt with them. He let me pull the shirt from him, and I dropped it to the floor before going for the button on his pants. Dylan stripped off his black pants and wasted no time taking his boxer briefs with them. When he was naked in front of me, I took a step back, overwhelmed by the changed man I saw. The transformation of his body was shocking. The Dylan I’d known was always in shape, with sleek muscles and strong arms. But the man in front of me, stripped naked, was like seeing an action movie star come through my TV and into my bedroom. The eyes and face were the same, but the body was like meeting a stranger. Granted, an incredibly enticing one.
“What’s wrong, Em?” Dylan asked, worry etched in his handsome face.
I shook my head and bit into my lower lip. “Nothing. You look good.”
Dylan gave a strange laugh. “Well then, get back over here.” He tugged my hand and pulled me against him. His hard cock pressed against me, and all coherent thoughts melted away.
He moved us back to the bed, but when my legs hit the side of the mattress, guilt seized me. I looked over my shoulder at the bed Tommy and I had shared. I wanted Dylan. Nothing was going to stop me from making love to him, but the idea of taking him into the bed I’d shared with my dead husband and Dylan’s childhood friend gave me pause.
Dylan noticed my lingering gaze and without a word, took my hand.
“I’m sorry—” I shook my head.
“Don’t be.” He tipped my chin up to meet his eyes. “We don’t have to do this tonight.”
“But I want to.” I kissed him again, pouring myself into every move of my lips.
His cock pushed against me, and a fresh rush of tingling heat surged through me. I grabbed him and smiled as he jolted, surprised by the bold touch. He swept me up and placed me on the edge of the bed. “You go touching me like that and I can’t be held responsible for what happens next. And you know it.”
“I was counting on it.”
Dylan smiled and reached for the waistband of my panties. I lifted up from the bed as he stripped them away and then parted my thighs. He ran his thumb along my slit, and my eyes slid closed. Drinking it in. “Should I suit up?”
I guided him to me and shook my head. “I’m on the pill.”
I wanted to feel every inch of him, his skin on mine.
Dylan thrust into me slowly at first, but we quickly found a frantic rhythm, clinging to one another as we arched and moved and swayed together.
We lay together in the silent aftermath. Tangled emotions swept in to take the place of the overwhelming physical sensations, and I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. I swallowed hard and then rolled over to face Dylan.
“I missed you so much, Dylan.” Emotion thickened my voice, and I buttoned my lips before any other words could rush out.
Dylan didn’t say anything in response but kissed me softer than before, letting his lips linger against mine just long enough to tell me he understood the words I’d left unspoken.
***
A few hours later, Dylan roused from sleep and got dressed. I wanted to object, to tell him to stay with me, but we both knew it was for the best that he left. We didn’t say much to one another as he got ready to leave. A quick goodnight kiss and he slipped out into the night. As soon as the door was locked behind him, I went to the window and watched as he crossed to the building next door and climbed the steps to his family’s apartment. When he faded from sight, I moved away from the curtains and went to take a shower. It wasn’t likely that I’d be able to convince Kate that nothing happened between Dylan and me, but showing up smelling like sex and his aftershave wasn’t going to do me any favors.
Although, in some ways, I doubted she’d even care. Her opinion of Tommy had never been very high. She was young when Tommy and I got married, but through her teen years, she made her thoughts known. She said I deserved better. I couldn’t even count how many times I’d shown up at my mother’s front door in tears, asking for a place to sleep when Tommy got pissed off or too drunk to be around. He’d never been violent with me. At least, not physically. He’d preferred to shout, throw things, and scream obscenities at me. When it was just the two of us, I’d take it, try to calm him down with tenderness and understanding. But when little Tommy got old enough to realize what was being said, I refused to stay. When Tommy showed up drunk and ranting, I’d take little Tommy to my mom’s and take refuge there for the night.
Still, Tommy had just been brutally murdered in cold blood. He might not have been in the running for husband of the year, but surely that didn’t excuse my eagerness to jump into bed with my ex-lover days later. Which was confusing, as being with Dylan felt so right and natural.
After the shower, I pulled on a fresh change of clothes and stashed the clothes I’d worn to the wake in the hamper. I pulled my slick hair back into a ponytail. As my hands moved through my wet hair, I caught sight of my wedding ring in the mirror. I stopped, my hands frozen in place. Was it right to take it off? So soon? What would people think? What would they say?
More importantly—or sadly—did I care?
I inspected the ring under the soft bathroom lighting. The tiny diamond was all Tommy could afford. The ring had always brought up mixed feelings. I’d known Tommy just as long as I’d known Dylan and Jimmy. We all grew up together and were inseparable at school and during summer breaks. Somewhere along the line, during high school, Tommy and Dylan both developed a crush on me. However, from the time I was twelve, I’d only been infatuated with Dylan. When I found out—through Jimmy—that Dylan liked me too, I
was the happiest girl in the world. We started dating when we were sixteen, and everyone thought we’d graduate, get married, and start a family. It wasn’t that unusual in our circles to marry young and start having children by twenty-two or three. A lot of families worked that way. Dylan was poised to take over managing his father’s real estate and his business as a supplier to the building trades. Before long we’d have enough money to buy a little house. When the babies came, I’d stay home with them. Maybe getting a part-time job when they were old enough to go off to school. It was all set. My whole life mapped out by eighteen.
Then, one month before graduation, Dylan came to me and told me he was changing the plans. He’d been speaking to a Navy recruiter in secret for a few weeks and had decided to enlist. He was going to turn nineteen soon. The news devastated me. All of my plans and dreams were twisted up and thrown into the fire right before my eyes. I’d never bothered to make a backup plan or other arrangements. My despair and confusion quickly turned to anger. In my eyes, Dylan had betrayed me. He’d been sneaking around behind everyone’s back, speaking with the recruiter and making plans for a future that made sense to him without consideration for his family—or me. We argued and went round and round. No matter how many tears I cried or how much I yelled, he refused to change his mind. So, I’d be a military wife for a few years, I argued, but he wouldn’t hear of that, either. He refused to consider marriage. I was confused, as well as angry.
We broke up weeks before he shipped out to boot camp. He’d been gone for six months when I heard he had his heart set on joining the SEALs. Where the fuck did that come from? Then I understood. That was a life that cut out everything but his service. No wife. No kids. No house with a picket fence. Just excitement and danger. This was all about him.
I finally gave up the hope that he’d come home, tell me he’d changed his mind, or that he’d made other arrangements for us. Tommy was the one there to pick up the pieces. We started spending more time together, and he was so sweet and kind. He treated me to movies, dinners, and brought me flowers. Looking back, I wasn’t sure when I decided to try it with him. If anything, I was just lonely. We started fooling around, and it wasn’t long before I found out that I was pregnant. We panicked and ran off together. We tried to convince everyone we were in love and couldn’t wait another minute to get married, but it was pretty transparent what had happened when a month later I started to show and we had to announce that I was pregnant. I was all of nineteen going on stupid.
I’ll never forget the moment I sat down to write the letter to Dylan, telling him the news of the marriage and baby on the way. My hands shook so bad I had to start over at least half a dozen times. When I finally got it right, I stuffed the letter in an envelope and shoved it into the mailbox before I could change my mind. I cried all the way home.
My gaze drifted from the ring to the bedroom window where I’d watched him go. When I looked back at the ring, I slipped it from my finger and then dropped it into the basket between the sink and the wall and quickly turned out the bathroom light.
Chapter Nine
Dylan
It was impossible to get Emma off my mind. Peeling myself away from her bed was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. With her, the world faded and everything simplified. It was just us. Lost in a cocoon. As soon as I left her apartment, the real world swooped back in and smacked me across the face. My brother was dead, my parents’ in anguish, the biggest decisions of my life and career were still waiting.
After a few hours crashing in my old bedroom, I woke and found a house full of relatives and family members in town for the funeral that would take place in a couple of days. I came from a big Irish family, and we all pulled together in times of darkness.
I’d already told my parents’ I’d pay for everything, they didn’t need the additional burden, but they turned away the money. Pops was a proud man. I explained to him as a SEAL, I made decent money and didn’t have much in the way of expenses. I didn’t own a house or even a car. I also invested the good majority of my salary and played the stock market off and on with a small slice of it. I wasn’t rich, but I’d hit on a few good stocks, and I had more than I needed. It took a while, but they finally accepted.
Uncle Paddy was among the faces around the breakfast table, though everyone gave deference to my dad, the head of the family, the grieving father. When no one seemed to know what to say to him, I took over, talked about sports to lighten things up. I could see the relief in his eyes.
My aunts and uncles and cousins asked me questions as we all ate together, mostly in regard to my military service and the places I’d been able to travel. I had to leave out a lot of details, but I answered what I could and kept the conversation light. It was much needed in the shadow of the heavy night before and the dark days that no doubt lay ahead.
After the meal, my mother shooed me from the kitchen, and Uncle Paddy asked me to join him outside on the back porch while he had a smoke. I’d smoked as a teen and occasionally partook. When we got outside, he offered one to me and I took it. “These damn things will kill you, ya know?”
Uncle Paddy shrugged. “Yeah, well, something’s gonna.”
I leaned in to the flame he offered from his silver lighter. One of the fat, old school ones, with the Malloy crest. If I remembered right, my father had given it to him on the day he married my mother. Paddy’d served as his best man. I watched him pocket it and briefly wondered if I’d ever have to worry about a gift for my best man. Back before joining the Navy, I’d imagined what it would be like to stand at the altar, waiting for Emma to appear in a white gown. She’d no doubt look like an angel.
An angel I didn’t deserve. Especially not now.
“You holding up?” Paddy asked around his own cigarette.
I nodded.
“You left early last night.”
“I needed some air.”
Uncle Paddy watched me out of the corner of his eye. “You sure that’s all you found?”
I shifted my gaze to him.
He shrugged. “Emma Flannigan left right after you. People were talking . . .”
I scoffed and knocked some of the ashes into the coffee can my mom kept on the back porch for such purposes. “That’s all it is, Paddy. Talk.”
He considered me a moment longer but then relented with a quick nod. “I figured.”
“Any word on those suppliers?”
To my surprise, he nodded. He fished a slip of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s the address.”
I took the paper and unfolded it. I didn’t know the address, but was familiar with the general area. “Where’d you get it?”
“Asked around. Apparently, they’ve been moving into this side of town. From what I could gather, it’s a liquor distributor but maybe there’s more to it. They’re Irish, but nobody seems to know where they came from.”
“You think they’re running something else? Guns? Drugs?”
“I don’t know. It could be. Or it could be legit.”
I pocketed the slip. “Thanks, Paddy.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful, lad. I can’t bear to see your parents’ go through another tragedy.”
I gave a solemn nod.
We stared out at the postage stamp backyard. A thin layer of frost covered everything, but in the spring and summer it was transformed into a little oasis in the middle of the dull neighborhood. A hedge of roses lined the back wall of the fence with smaller plants in front. The small patio would have the wooden yard furniture and a big umbrella. Often times it was a gathering place in the neighborhood. People would come over for lemonade or a beer and talk for hours until long after the sun went down. My dad would fire up the grill and feed half the neighborhood. It’d been too long since the last time I’d been present at one.
Paddy cleared his throat and put out his cigarette. “Any thought on what your next move is?”
“I figure I’ll go poke around, see if I can find someone who will
talk to me.”
Paddy frowned. “I mean about the future. You got a few weeks here. Then what? You shipping off again?”
The cigarette dangling between my lips lost all appeal. I put it out and then leaned back against the railing of the small porch. “That’s the plan.”
Paddy leveled me with a firm stare. “It’s been eight years, son. When are you coming home for good?”
I sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “Paddy—”
“Your parents’ worry sick with you so far away.”
“I know.”
“It’s time, son. You need to come home, take over the family business. Your dad is killing himself trying to hold them all together. Not to speak ill of Jimmy, but he wasn’t pulling his weight. When you entered the military, you told your ma eight years. Well son, it’s been just about eight years now, and it’s time you come home. You’ve done your service to your country. Now come home and take care of your family.”
I bristled but kept myself in check.
Paddy, sensing my resistance, held up a hand. “Think about it. That’s all I’m asking ya.”
I held his stare for a moment and then nodded. “I will.”
He clapped me on the back before turning to go inside. “Good man.”
***
I waited until nightfall to go down to the docks. The address Paddy’d given me was a little tricky to find, tucked away in a series of gray buildings that all looked the same. A chain link fence surrounded the place, so I parked across the street and waited. About an hour after arriving, a white delivery truck pulled up to the gate. A man jumped out of the passenger seat, unlatched the gate, and waited for the truck to pull through. They disappeared around a warehouse for about fifteen minutes, then turned the corner and stopped. The same guy got out, unlocked the gate, and the truck came on through. He locked the place back up tight and hopped back in the idling truck. What the fuck, I wondered. Did they make a delivery or a pickup? I threw my car into action and pulled out after they were half a mile away, following them through town. We ended up parked under a flashing sign I recognized—O’Doul’s.
