Taken With You: A Fractured Connections Novella

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  And I really shouldn’t have fucking kissed her.

  But I hadn’t been able to hold myself back. And even though she’d returned the kiss, she ran.

  I was such a fucking asshole for even thinking I could touch her. To believe that I had any rights where she was concerned.

  I shook my head and did my best to push her out of my thoughts. It would be best if we had even more space from each other. I’d left her alone the past couple of days. She’d run from me that night. And even though I’d felt a connection, she ran. So I wouldn’t push. At least, not much.

  Fuck. No. Not at all. I couldn’t. Not given who she was. Or at least who she was before. Who I was in my past.

  I walked into the bar, nodded at a couple of regulars, and tossed my stuff in my little cubby before lifting my chin at Brendon.

  “Are you seriously behind the bar again?” I asked, the humor in my voice real. I loved needling Brendon. The guy was a good man. He was smart as hell and had more business savvy in his pinky than I had in my whole body. He was caring, funny, and apparently pretty good-looking, at least if you asked his new bride. But he wasn’t the best part-time bartender. Oh, he was good, just not the best Connolly at it. And he damn sure wasn’t as good as I was. Considering that Brendon loved being the best at everything and tried his hardest to do so, I had fun giving him shit.

  Even though I knew it got under the man’s skin. Hey, everybody needed a hobby.

  “Fuck you. You’re late,” he grumbled as he poured two drafts and slid them over to waiting hands.

  “I am. So you decided to take my place and ruin your bar?” I grinned and took the ticket for the next order.

  “You’re an asshole. I should fire you.”

  “No, I’m the best thing you have here.”

  “Excuse me, I’m the best thing we have here.” Aiden puffed out his chest as he came around the corner with two plates in his hands. It looked as if they held some form of tapas, an appetizer thing that usually didn’t fit well in the bar scene. But the Connollys had spruced up the place and changed the food a bit, thanks to Aiden and his gift. Aiden Connolly had worked at a Michelin-starred restaurant. He could be a famous chef anywhere in the world. But, instead, he had come back to his family and seemed to be setting down some roots. Maybe the guy would open up a restaurant of his own someday. Perhaps even with his little brother Dillon, if the kid decided to take that path.

  But until that happened, I knew I would get some really damn good food from the man, and I was thankful that he had decided to slum it in the bar scene.

  “Oh, shut up,” Brendon grumbled.

  “Wow, you sure are acting a bit growly and unsatisfied for a man who recently got married.” Aiden met my gaze over Brendon’s back as the other man bent down to pick something up from the floor. I winked and continued down our current line of conversation. “Yeah. You having a tough time there? Things not up to the standards you’re used to?”

  “Yeah, things hanging low?” Aiden asked.

  “I’m going to kill you both. And, for your information, my wife is over in that corner. And she could probably kick both of your asses. You’re lucky I don’t do it myself.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I looked over to the corner because I knew—just knew—that if Harmony was there, she wasn’t alone. And, yeah, I was right.

  Violet and Sienna were on one side of the booth, laughing with each other as Harmony said something.

  And right next to Harmony, in the position closest to me, where she would face me if she turned her head even a fraction of an inch, was Meadow.

  Fucking hell.

  I should have known that she would be here. The night I was late because I had been too busy trying not to jerk off to dreams about her. After I’d decided that we should stay friends and that I needed to keep away from her in other ways. Thinking maybe we shouldn’t even be that close.

  Of course she was here.

  She liked it here. At least, I thought she did.

  This was her place. Her friends were all over the damn bar. Some of them were my bosses.

  Now I had to figure out what the fuck to do about it.

  “If your wife’s over there, then why are you behind the bar?” Aiden asked, smiling at one of the customers at the counter. Aiden didn’t smile at anyone much, so he must be in a good mood.

  He’d probably gotten laid by his girl before he came to work. Must be nice.

  I’d lost count of the number of months it had been since I’d gotten laid. Probably since before I saw Meadow again for the first time.

  No, that couldn’t be right. I’d gone out with that girl, Julie, a few months ago. Right?

  Dear God. It had been a few months. No wonder I was hard up and having dreams about girls I shouldn’t be fantasizing about. I was just horny. Soon as I found someone at the bar, I’d take them home and fix that. I’d make sure the girl had the best night of her life, and then I’d be fine for a while. Just top one off.

  God, I was such a fucking lecher in my head.

  “This asshole was late”—he pointed at me—“so I had to help. It’s nice that we’re busy, though, right?” he asked, and I winced.

  “Sorry, Brendon. You go sit with your wife. I’ll get to work. I won’t be late again.”

  Brendon’s eyes widened a bit, and he met Aiden’s gaze before looking at me. “Hey, I was only messing with you. You were like ten minutes late. You’re usually thirty minutes early all the time. Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

  I nodded, giving him the smile I knew everyone expected of me. It was what I was good at. Being what people needed me to be.

  “I’m good. Go sit with your woman. I’ve got this.”

  Brendon raised a brow. “I’m not that bad of a bartender. I know you like to make fun of me, but I’m not that bad.”

  Aiden snorted, pulling a draft before handing it over to a customer. “You’re not the best.”

  “And you shouldn’t be back here either,” I said to Aiden, laughing. “Go cook. Brendon, go work your magic on the wife. I’m going to get to work. I’ve got this. Trust me with your baby. I know what I’m doing.”

  Brendon smiled. “Yeah. I guess you do. And we do trust you, you know, Beckham? We wouldn’t have let you stay here for as long as you have, especially with your attitude, if we didn’t.”

  He lifted his chin, smiled, and then went off towards the booth where the girls were seated.

  I stood there in stunned silence for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts.

  I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said they trusted me. Could they really at all? Sure, I tried to do the right thing, but it wasn’t the same. Wasn’t actual trustworthiness. And though I planned to do the best I could for the rest of my life to make sure I earned what they gave me, I wasn’t positive I’d ever be worthy of it. Not with the sins that covered my body, the scars that would never go away, and the regret that ran through my veins.

  “Hey, do you have that new IPA on tap?” a guy asked, and I turned around, giving him my best what-the-fuck look. Not that I didn’t like IPAs. I enjoyed all beer. Some more than others. But I loved making the young guy squirm. He looked barely over twenty-one, but I remembered him. He had a real ID. I was pretty good at spotting the fake ones. And I knew the kid was probably twenty-two now. He could drink legally. But it was good to remind them of their place. And this one tipped better for it. He seemed to like being intimidated a bit. I didn’t know why. But he did. So I indulged, and that meant more money for me. More cash for rent. More for food. And more to stockpile in case I had to go away. They would find me eventually. They always did. And when they did, I’d have to run. And…fuck. I didn’t want to. I liked it here. Enjoyed the friends and the makeshift family I had made. I didn’t want to leave. But I’d have to if they showed.

  I looked up and met Meadow’s gaze. I swallowed hard. Yes, I’d have to go. If they came, they would find her, too. And I didn’t think sh
e wanted to be found. I wouldn’t be the person who ruined her peace.

  I got to work, pulling beers and mixing drinks. There was a rush on martinis with twists tonight, and I had to wonder if someone had mentioned it. It wasn’t on sale. But I was damn sure making them extra cold. It made me crave one, even though I didn’t really like vodka. Or gin. I was a whiskey man.

  “Hey, you going to take your break soon?” Cameron asked as he walked towards me. “Dillon’s going to try to stop by a bit later. He’s out with his friends tonight, the ones he’s moving in with.”

  “Oh, yeah? How’s that going?”

  Cameron ran a hand over his face. “I don’t fucking know. It’s like watching my baby leave the house. And he’s not even my kid.”

  “Stop lying to yourself. He’s yours. You raised him. Maybe not from birth, but you raised him. And he’s growing up, going to college, making friends. And now he’s moving out on his own. He’s doing damn well.”

  “You say that, but I’m afraid everything’s going to get fucked up because I didn’t do a good enough job.”

  I raised a brow and looked at the other man even as I pulled another draft. “That kid got into a private college, even after getting into the state one he’s currently at. He’s transferring this fall on a partial scholarship to a place that doesn’t give a lot of them. He worked his ass off.”

  “He did. It’ll be weird not having him at the school right downtown. Where he can simply walk over and see us during the day if we’re here and he wants to.”

  “He’ll still be close, though, right?”

  “Yeah. It’s just weird that he’s growing up.”

  “He’s nineteen, man. He’s already grown up.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “So you and Violet ever going to have kids of your own?” I asked, not even sure where that question had come from.

  Cameron raised his brows. “Have to ask her to marry me first.”

  “You better get on that. I mean, Brendon’s already hitched. And I think Sienna and Aiden are well on their way. You don’t want Aiden to beat you, do you?”

  “You’re a shit-stirrer. And of course I don’t want Aiden to beat me.” He mumbled the last part, probably because he didn’t want his woman to hear. As much as she loved the brothers, I didn’t really think that Violet wanted to know that a proposal might be coming sooner rather than later only so Cameron could do it before Aiden did. Not that she’d say no. At least, I didn’t think she would. All three couples were happy and in pre—and post—wedded bliss.

  It was nice to see, even though I wanted no part of it for myself.

  My gaze strayed to Meadow once again. She smiled at me, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  Oh, good. Fuck this.

  I was losing my damn mind. I really needed to get her out of my head.

  But I didn’t think I would be able to. After all, I hadn’t been able to before, even when she was so off-limits that it probably would’ve meant someone literally slicing my throat if I moved in too close.

  Those barriers weren’t there as much anymore, but the remnants still remained. The shadows. I didn’t want any part of that. Or, at least, I shouldn’t.

  “So, you’re going to take your break?”

  I shook my head. “Maybe another half hour. We’re about to hit that lull, and I’ll let Ben take over for a while. Sound good?”

  Cameron nodded, took the beers I had poured for him, and headed over to the table.

  Brendon and Cameron had already sat down, Aiden moving back and forth between the booth and the kitchen. A big group had just finished getting their food, so I figured Aiden would wrap up for the night. He’d technically been off shift for the past hour, but the man never let his kitchen go without him for too long. He might trust his staff, but he was very anal-retentive when it came to his food. I didn’t mind, though. It was damn good grub.

  Thirty minutes passed, and the lull indeed came. I nodded at Ben, who took control of the bar, and I went back to the storeroom. I’d make sure that we had everything ready for when I got back, and then I would actually take my break.

  As soon as I turned the corner and passed the billiards area where we’d hosted a pool tournament at one point, Meadow walked from the other direction. She’d probably come from the bathroom area.

  I wanted to touch her. Wanted to be close to her.

  She did something to me that made no sense. But I was stronger than these feelings. I had to be. When she looked up, and her eyes widened, I knew I wasn’t resilient enough to resist her.

  I was a fucking bastard, and I didn’t care anymore. I’d tried to be good for so long. Had even succeeded in some respects, but I wasn’t going to be good anymore. I didn’t think I could be.

  “Oh. I didn’t know you were back here,” she said, her voice a little breathy.

  I leaned against the wall, blocking her way. Then I smirked. I knew she hated that. Every time I did it, her eyes narrowed, and a little crease formed on her brow.

  But her eyes always went to my mouth, so maybe she didn’t hate it that much.

  “Just coming back here before I take my break. Why don’t you take it with me?” Jesus Christ, that was the worst line ever. I wasn’t very good at things like that, especially when it came to her. But that was fine. I wasn’t good at many things.

  “I think we’re okay. We had enough of that already, didn’t we?”

  Surprised that she had alluded to the kiss, I raised a single brow.

  “You did kiss me back.”

  “And then I ran away.” Her voice was a little sharp, and I blinked.

  “I figured you had to be home by midnight or something.”

  “I’m not Cinderella. I didn’t go home in a pumpkin. I took a Lyft.” She raised a brow in response. “Honestly, I’m surprised your ego can fit in this hallway. Just saying.”

  “Well, it’s a heavy burden to bear, but I manage. You should go out with me.”

  Fuck, why did I say that?

  “No. Never.” Her voice shook a bit, and she lowered her gaze. “I can’t.”

  Jesus Christ. I knew she couldn’t. Why we shouldn’t. I didn’t think she knew all of it, though. “Meadow.” I reached out and lifted her chin as I gently caressed her skin. “You don’t have to be wary of me.”

  Or should she be?

  “I’m not afraid of you.” I didn’t know if I could taste the lie, but it definitely didn’t sound entirely truthful.

  “We could be friends, though. Right?”

  “That kiss wasn’t about friendship.”

  “No, it wasn’t. But we have a lot of mutual friends. You’re going to be coming into this bar often with them. That means you’ll have to deal with me. Maybe we should make sure that we stay friends.”

  “Only friends?”

  “Jesus. I don’t know. I like you. I want you. And you want me. I can tell. Let’s do something about it.” I paused. “If you only want to be friends? Then I’ll do my best to keep things that way."

  She snorted and shook her head. But she didn’t pull back. My fingers were still on her skin. Still gently caressing. Damn it, she was such a temptation. I needed to step away.

  “Like I said. Ego much?”

  “I like my big…ego.” I didn’t look down at my crotch when I said it, but she did.

  A pretty blush stained her cheeks, and I grinned.

  “Come out with me.”

  “I shouldn’t. I can’t.”

  “Shouldn’t and can’t are two very different things. Which one is it, baby?”

  And then I lowered my head and fell into the abyss and my bad decisions. I kissed her again, a brush of lips, a sweet caress of sin.

  My tongue snaked out, parting her lips, and she moaned. But she didn’t pull away. Instead, she put her hands on my chest, her fingernails digging into my flesh through my shirt.

  And when I stepped back, her pupils were large, dark. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard.

>   “I shouldn’t.”

  “Maybe not. But let’s try it out anyway.”

  I really should not be doing this. Just like she shouldn’t. There was only one way this ended. Actually, there were two possibilities. Heartache or death. Or both.

  But I didn’t care. So when she nodded, just a little movement, a way to say yes, something twisted inside me.

  I didn’t want to hurt her, but I craved her. But I craved her.

  I only hoped that with that “yes,” that one little nod, I hadn’t sealed our fates.

  It had happened once already. At least once. For both of us.

  I didn’t know if we could survive it again.

  Chapter 4

  I’m not perfectly imperfect. Just imperfect.

  ~Meadow, journal entry

  Meadow

  Women got asked out all the time. Men, too. Everybody did.

  I was no different than anyone else. I’d succumbed and nodded yes to Beckham.

  And that meant that tomorrow, on his day off, we were going on a date. I didn’t know what kind. It wasn’t like I had much experience with them. I sucked at the whole dating thing, actually. My dating usually included putting on tight jeans, high-heeled boots, a bra that pushed my boobs up to my chin, and then involved me sitting on the back of a bike before doing things I shouldn’t.

  At least, old Meadow’s dates had been like that.

  The new Meadow didn’t do that. She didn’t go out at all.

  I hadn’t been on a date since Coby.

  I shuddered at the name, wondering why I’d even thought it. I’d done my best not to think about him for over a year. It wouldn’t do to start now. Simply because I thought of my past for some reason every time I thought of Beckham didn’t mean that was the right trajectory.

  Sure, he was big and bearded and tattooed like Coby, but that didn’t mean he was the same type of man Coby was.

  Though it surprised me a little that I’d said yes to Beckham, or that I wanted to kiss or be near him at all. Even the similarities in the way the two of them moved worried me—or at least it should.