He wanted to finish that job, too. Today. This afternoon. And she’d just given him the means to do so.
“No,” he said. “Come to the house, after.” He could sense the retreat in Erin, the shying away. So he went in for the kill. “We’ll talk then.”
“Oh.” Erin’s eyes widened, the haunted look back in her gaze. “Okay. Okay, well, great.” She glanced to her right at the next person waiting to greet him. She was holding up the line. She couldn’t just keep standing there, and she knew it.
“Come to the house,” he said again, this time more firmly, loud enough that his mother glanced over from where she was speaking with a crying older woman, clearly comforting her more than she was being comforted herself. Erin saw the glance as well, took in his mother’s relieved smile. And Zander knew she was done for. She wouldn’t want to cause any distress, especially if she still thought his mom knew the whole truth about the mess between them—which from the stricken look on Erin’s face, apparently she did. Worked for him.
“The house,” Erin murmured. “Of course.”
“Good.” Zander gave her hands a last, token squeeze, then—finally—released her. “I’ll see you there.”
Erin walking away from him gave Zander a weird feeling of déjà vu. More demons to beat down, he supposed, but he continued smiling and shaking hands with rote politeness, his mind only half-engaged. Even setting aside the whole clusterfuck of Erin Connelly, being back home felt wrong. Everything’d felt wrong since the moment he’d gotten the official notice about the colonel, but carrying his father’s casket through the middle of that knot of civilians this morning had been like navigating through members of an alien race.
He knew he’d been drawing stares the whole time, of course. Uniforms always drew stares. Guys sizing him up, women checking him out. That didn’t bother him so much.
It was that there were so many people, all in one spot. Packed into a closed-up building—fat, skinny, young, old, babies, grandmas. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen. He’d plotted out seven different ways a target could cause major chaos and destruction before he’d finally abandoned the exercise out of sheer frustration. All those people, open to attack. It left him cold inside. Then again, everything left him cold inside these days.
He nodded at the next person in line, said the expected words. He didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be stateside, away from his unit. Didn’t want to be seeing his family again. He could serve them better by doing his job. Even if his dad had thought his job was shit.
His dad. Zander tightened his jaw, recognizing in some part of his brain that the change in his expression had an effect on the people standing beside him. His sister, covertly eyeing his profile. His mother, shifting nervously. They’d all been watching him, wary and on edge, since he’d touched down at Boston Logan. They shouldn’t have worried. They’d not been the problem. Especially not his mom, who’d done everything she could to make things easier between him and his old man. But full-bird-colonel William Frank James had never had enough time to unkink his ass from the stick he’d driven up it over Zander’s enlistment. He’d hated everything about Zander joining the army, because it hadn’t been perfect, hadn’t been the way he’d wanted it done. The medals, the honors, the missions, even making Ranger. His father hadn’t said a word. And that was fine. The old man had his military, Zander had his. Or “Z,” as his unit called him. He liked that, it suited him. Because if ever there was a soldier to end a mission with a bang, it made sense that that his name would be Z.
For the first time in what’d seemed like weeks, Zander’s mouth kicked up into a smile. The air seemed to get a little looser around him, the constriction in his chest easing up. He was here on a mission, same as any other. He’d continue paying his respects to the man who had made him what he was. He’d make sure his family was okay. He’d even go lust after one of the sweet new Vipers that had rolled onto the lot this year over at the dealership in Danvers. They were just about perfect—so much strength and speed, he couldn’t even imagine what it’d be like to take one out on the open road, never mind that he’d never be able to afford one in this lifetime. Sure as shit not on his E-6 pay grade.
Whatever, though. Because after all of that was done and his leave was finished, he’d be back aboard another bird, officially re-upping for his next tour of duty. Ironic that the timing of his dad’s death had taken him out of the mix just when he had that process to complete, but it didn’t change anything. His CO knew where his head was, had even encouraged him to take the time to reconnect with his family, his old friends. From the way he’d said it, Zander’d gotten the idea that where they were sending him next wouldn’t be anywhere he’d be coming back from soon.
Worked for him.
He certainly didn’t need to see Erin Connelly again after today. She hadn’t been back in his airspace for more than twenty minutes, and already she was making him crazy. Those big eyes always so filled with worry, that full mouth, those perfect, sweet curves made just right for—Zander felt his body shift at the vivid images his memory was serving up. He gritted his teeth and fought to keep other parts of his anatomy from tightening, too. Jesus, now was not the—
Zander’s hand was suddenly gripped hard in a clasp so like his father’s that he snapped to attention, all thoughts of Erin evaporating. His gaze connected with an older man he didn’t recognize. The man was not in uniform but looked like he should be, the rigid, military set to his jaw marking his first profession as clearly as an insignia on his shoulder.
“Glenn Jackson, Zander. Your father and I were great friends. I’m sorry to see him leave the fight. He would have wanted to be here to welcome you home.”
“Thank you, sir,” Zander said, according the man the respect he’d doubtless earned at some point, even if he was no longer an officer. Because, of course, he would have been an officer once. Otherwise, he and Zander’s father wouldn’t have been friends.
“Call me Glenn.” Pause. “I don’t want to take your time now, but perhaps we can talk for a few minutes later today.” Grim smile, but a purposeful one. “I apologize for interrupting your time with your family, but I understand you’ll only be home for a few weeks.”
Zander raised his brows, but didn’t pursue the point. “I’ll be available later this afternoon at the house. I can speak with you then.”
“Excellent.” With a short nod, Glenn Jackson turned and strode off into the bright sun, leaving Zander to receive the next person in line. What could this man want with him that required a discussion at his own father’s funeral? He looked forward to finding out. Nothing like the anticipation of a challenge to get him rolling, after all.
And he was rolling, Zander realized. The familiar surge in his blood, the kick of his pulse—he smiled as his whole body practically hummed with expectation. Not just about Jackson, either. Zander knew himself well enough to know that. He’d talk with the guy, sure, but his mind was already skipping ahead to his conversation with Erin. He didn’t know what he would say—or what she would. But he did know what he wanted. What he was determined to get.
To obliterate Erin Connelly completely and permanently—from his mind, from his heart, and from every single one of his memories. He wasn’t sure what it would take to make that happen, but judging from the reaction she’d had to touching him, and with his own body already revving to go, he was starting to get some pretty interesting ideas.
This was going to be good.
Chapter 3
This was going to suck sideways.
Sitting in front of Zander’s house at the end of a long line of cars, Erin checked her makeup for the last time and tucked her keys in her clutch. She hated carrying a purse, but the dress she’d chosen for the day didn’t have pockets, of course, and she couldn’t just wander around jingling keys in her hand. She tossed the clutch on the seat beside her, then flipped the visor down again.
The face staring back at her was exactly the same as it had been fifteen seconds
earlier.
“This is not a big deal,” she muttered. “He said he’d answer my questions. Then I can go.” She almost had everything ready, too. She’d completed the refi on her brownstone to pull out the max limit—almost a half-million dollars, with plenty left over for expenses. The bank had promised her that all of the money could be withdrawn from the south Texas branch she’d designated in just forty-eight more hours. Then, with just a quick note to Dani Michaels, her only roommate currently in residence, Erin would be on a plane to Laredo International Airport the following morning. Then I’ll rent a car, get the money, go over the border and…you know. Try not to die.
“Pull it together,” Erin ordered her reflection. “And enough with the doe-eyed ex-girlfriend thing while you’re at it.” Because regardless of Zander’s surliness, Erin hadn’t missed her full-body reaction to him. There’d been a Godzilla-size zing when he’d touched her, and while that without a doubt explained why her love life had been AWOL for the past four years right along with Zander, it was completely beside the point. She wasn’t here for a hometown hookup with the friendly neighborhood Army Ranger. She was here for information. Period.
Erin focused on the house up the lane…and made no move to get out of the car.
She clenched her hands on the steering wheel, studying her knuckles instead as her mind drifted back over territory that had been strictly off-limits for four very long years.
It hadn’t been all bad, her relationship with Zander James. Being a part of that swarm of kids who’d been in constant motion at his house. If she was honest with herself, coming out to the cape every day all of those summers had been the best experience of her young life. It certainly had taken her mind off the mess that was her own family. Gran Ginny had loved her work, and Erin had helped her out, not even really thinking about it as a “job,” so much as losing herself in the beautiful gardens of homes that were weathered and comfortable and way pricier than they looked. Then, one day in her second summer out on the cape, she’d found a group of kids her own age and they’d asked her to hang out at the beach instead of weeding their backyards. Ginny hadn’t minded at all—her main concern with Erin had been child care, not the money she’d brought in. And as long as Erin was safe, Ginny could do what she did best—tidying up other people’s houses with the same attention to detail she employed to tidy up her own. While Gran cleaned and gossiped her way from one kitchen to the next, Erin wandered around the cape with her new group of friends, none of them ever realizing how much of a mess her life really was.
The James house had been where they’d usually found themselves. Large and rambling, it was an easy half-mile walk from Light House Beach. If it went up for sale now, it’d probably go for a mil or something. But back when Zander’s grandparents bought it, things just hadn’t been that expensive, she supposed. Either way, it was the most perfect place Erin could imagine, and she fixed her gaze on it now as she finally popped open her car door and slid out into the bright sunshine, wishing she’d remembered her oversized sunglasses. Still, she wouldn’t be squinting in the sunlight long. Just go in, come out, go home.
She talked to herself like this all the way up to the Jameses’ front door, with its well-worn sign reading, “Come in and head to the back.” She eased herself into the cool, serene hallway she remembered so vividly from her teenage years. The interior of the Jameses’ house was done in what would probably be called “relaxed colonial”—rich wood floors, white trim in most of the rooms, smoky-blue walls. Bright bowls of flowers and books for decoration, but nothing fussy, nothing forced. She always felt safe, coming here, always felt like she was part of something. The house seemed exactly the way she remembered it, too, comfortable and sure of itself.
The deck and yard, with its large gazebo, and trails that snaked off into the trees, also looked exactly the same. And just as at every James family event, there was already a large crowd packed into the space.
“Erin! Excellent. I’m so glad you could make it.” Zander’s sister appeared right in front of her as she stepped out onto the back porch, and Erin tensed, instantly self-conscious.
“Thanks—I appreciate the invitation. I promise I won’t stay long.” She waved around the backyard. “Looks like you guys have quite a lot of people to feed.”
“We’re counting on it,” Karen said. “And please, you have to do your part. Mom had all this food catered in, and if she is stuck with leftovers, I think she may become unglued.” Karen looked at her speculatively. “What have you been up to all these years, anyway? You kind of pulled a vanishing act after Zander left.”
“Well, we broke up,” Erin said, as if that explained everything. Which it should have, but Karen looked unimpressed, so Erin stumbled on. Could she really not know the whole story? Surely Zander had explained everything in minute, excruciating detail. “Like, a lot, Karen. We broke up in spectacular fashion. You’d just learned you were pregnant with Caleb so—you may not remember. But trust me. It was epic.”
“I guess.” Karen shrugged. “Mom said your grandmother passed away, too. I’m sorry to hear that. She always seemed like a really nice person.”
“She was.” Erin smiled at the irony. Usually, any discussion of Gran Ginny was the last thing Erin wanted to endure. Apparently that was not the case today, when the alternative was talking about the destruction of her relationship with Zander. “She went pretty quickly, in the end, just the way she would have wanted it. The doctor said her heart just stopped in her sleep, like it was finally ready to call it a day. I miss her, but I’m glad she passed so easily.”
“So you’re still in the area?”
Erin nodded. “She left me the brownstone, officially making me the happiest homeowner in Boston. I just finished my degree at MassArt, and now I’m working at a gallery in the city.” She smiled as Karen’s eyes widened. “I like it.”
“Well, good for you,” Karen said, and it sounded like she meant it. “Still, you and Zander seemed kind of chummy today, especially after having not seen each other for the past four years.” Her gaze shifted to somewhere deep in the backyard, and her lips thinned. “And I liked you a lot better than his current posse, I’ll give you that.”
“His current—? Oh.” Erin swiveled her head to see where Karen was looking. That was fast. Sure enough, Zander was surrounded by a trio of women—all of them tall and pretty, with boobs to spare. He, himself, looked good enough to eat, having changed into a loose-fitting pair of khakis and a sleek polo shirt. “Well, ah, good for him.” She smiled, determined to keep her emotions in check. Zander could have anyone he wanted—he could have all three of them if he wanted, as far as she was concerned. That’s not why she was here today. “But Karen, really. Zander and I are old news. I just—I just wanted to catch up with him, I guess.”
“Well, I guess he wanted that, too,” Karen said evenly. “He’s only home for a couple of weeks, you know.”
“I figured. He’s re-upping, right? Is that the right term?”
Karen smiled proudly, gazing across the yard at her little brother. “We think so, yeah. Carrying on the family tradition—just like everyone is but me.”
“You’re carrying on the family tradition in another way.” Erin nodded as Karen’s glance shifted instinctively to where her little girl was playing with a few other children. “One I think your mom approves of every bit as much, if you ask me. Probably your dad, too, though he’d never have been so un-PC to say it.”
Karen’s brows lifted as she glanced back at Erin. “You were paying closer attention than I gave you credit for.”
“I had a lot to pay attention to.” Erin shrugged as casually as she knew how. “Your family’s pretty different from mine.”
“Oh?” Karen looked intrigued, but their quiet moment was shattered as her two-year-old started shouting at the top of her lungs, something involving a lot of “Not fair!” Karen scooted off, leaving Erin to get food by herself, feeling like an awkward outsider in a yard full of strangers. Zander h
ad lost his fan club for the moment, but another man was standing with him now, his black hair shot through with silver. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, but he looked like he probably had at one point.
Erin frowned. Maybe this wasn’t so smart, hanging out at Zander’s house waiting for a chance to speak to him like he was some sort of rock star and she was his cast-off groupie. Was this how her housemate Lacey had felt, the first time she’d connected with her idol-turned-client Dante Falcone? Only that had been totally different. Dante actually was a rock god. Zander was still at least somewhat mortal, right? She could talk to him.
Actually…Erin glanced around the assembled people. There were lots of uniforms here. Lots of square jaws. Could any one of them help me? Just as she had the thought, however, Zander looked over and speared her with a look. As if he’d known what she was thinking. As if he’d known what she was about to do.
Okayyy…fine. She’d stick with her plan. But the moment she got what she needed, she was so completely out of here. She raised her glass of lemonade at Zander, and faked a smile.
—
Good. She was staying.
Zander turned his attention back to Glenn Jackson. He’d been acutely aware of Erin showing up on the scene and getting waylaid by his sister. He’d asked Karen to make sure that if she did show up, she’d feel comfortable. There was something about Erin’s actions that made him uneasy. Like she could slip away without notice, a fawn startled into flight. And he wasn’t in the mood to track down Bambi today.
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