“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” she said dully. Because she’d always been alone. Before Bandon. Maybe it was the wine giving her such an emotional flip-flop, but her history proved that any time something good came her way, something bad snatched it away, sooner or later.
“Sierra, listen—”
“No, Flynn. You listen to me.” Sierra kept her eyes on the dark blur of pine trees out the window. Looking at him would make this too hard. “There is nothing you can do to guarantee I’ll get to stay here. You can’t promise that trouble won’t come looking for me. If that happens? If the whole town finds out what I did? They’d never look at me the same. Staying or going, I’d still be alone. Even you might change your mind about me.”
She’d spiraled, fast and deep, into a super dark place. Sharing even a tiny bit of her story with the girls tonight was supposed to have been freeing. Another chunk of mortar and brick in her foundation here in Bandon. It had absolutely felt that way, as the delicious food filled her up every bit as much as the wine and laughter and hugs.
Then Flynn—albeit unwittingly—had reminded her of her true status in the world. An orphan. Alone. A woman on the run, living a secret life. All the good things about being here were an illusion. A house of cards predicated on a lie that could fall apart at any second. When she didn’t have anything in her life, it’d been easier. Having things, having people just gave you something to worry about losing.
Sierra was well aware she’d spend the rest of her life lying to those she cared about. And how deep, how real, how lasting could any relationship be when she couldn’t be truthful about who she was? Where she came from?
And why did it feel like an elephant had just parked his big, hairy behind on her chest? Why was it so darned hard to pull in a full breath?
The car stopped abruptly, tires crunching over gravel onto grass along the side of the road. Then she heard the car door open. It sounded like Flynn jogged around the front of the car. Sierra wasn’t sure because her eyes were squeezed shut as she tried to will her lungs and diaphragm to work normally. What was wrong with her? She was so scared.
That was it.
She was scared.
Her door opened and Sierra felt Flynn grab her ankles, turning her until her feet were hanging out of the car. Then he tugged her thighs forward so that the bottoms of her sneakers rested on the spongy grass.
“You’re safe, Sierra. Feel the ground underneath you? You’re planted here now. Right here. In Bandon. And in my heart.”
“That’s why I’m so scared,” she managed to gasp out. “Now that I have such a great life with so many people in it, I don’t want to lose them. I don’t want to lose you, Flynn.” Then, to her utter mortification, the tears came. Sierra leaned forward, clutched at the bright yellow logo of the Gorse on his tee, and dropped her head onto his shoulder.
Sierra hadn’t cried before. She hadn’t cried over leaving her potential career behind, not finishing her degree, or even the shocking fear that had spasmed through every muscle in her body as Miriam Newberry tumbled down the stairs. As she’d been forced to flee with a man that she was suddenly aware was more than willing to kill to get what he wanted.
So it all came out now. Because she trusted Flynn to hold her, to keep her safe. Sierra trusted everything about him. And trusted that, even though she was embarrassed by the breakdown, Flynn would take it in stride and not think less of her.
The tears stopped as suddenly as they’d begun, just like the semi-daily rainstorms that deluged the afternoons here. After a quick swipe beneath her eyes, Sierra pushed herself up, off of the comforting wall of heat that was his chest.
Flynn took her chin between his thumb and first finger. Looking her right in the eye, he asked, “What the hell was in that wine?”
The laughter that burbled out of her sealed off any further self-pity. “Maybe you should call Rafe to check if Mollie broke into ridiculous tears on their way home, too.”
Tapping his index finger against her lips, Flynn frowned. “Not ridiculous. I’m guessing they were necessary.”
“Yeah. I think they were.” Sierra could acknowledge that much. That it was healthy to unbottle her feelings—especially the ones she’d worked so hard to ignore. “It still feels dumb to indulge like that.”
“Do you feel better?”
Her heart wasn’t racing anymore. The giant invisible elephant had shifted off her chest, so she could breathe normally. And the jumbled knot of fearful thoughts that had ping-ponged around her brain sat quietly, barely noticeable. “I do.”
“Then it wasn’t dumb.” Flynn rocked off his knees back onto his heels. Then he sort of zoned out, looking over her shoulder with a soft focus that made Sierra think he wasn’t seeing the forest or the road at all. “You know, I, uh, hit a rough patch. About something I’ve been going through with my brothers.”
Now? Oh, no. Had she missed some warning signs? Not taken care of Flynn the way he took care of her? “Are you okay?”
“Getting there.” He slowly stroked the backs of his knuckles down her cheek. “Thanks to you, mostly. But I have a feeling that if I’d let it all out months ago, like you just did, I wouldn’t have been a grouchy, miserable bastard for so long.”
Ohhhh. This was about the dark and moody quietness when he first started at the Gorse. Or maybe even before that. Sierra raked her gaze from his boots, up his jeans to the flare out of the magnificent muscles of his chest and shoulders, ending at the dark stubble and sharp cheekbones that gave him a thoroughly dangerous look. “You don’t seem like the type to get refreshed by a good cry.”
“Ah, no.” His knees cracked as he stood. Flynn gently lifted her feet back in and shut the door. Once he’d slid behind the wheel and belted in, he winked at her. “Whatever the masculine version is—that’s what I should’ve done.”
“Lots of swearing?”
Flynn eased them back onto the road. “Could be a good way to express bad feelings, right?”
He sounded like he was joking. But Sierra genuinely hurt for him that there was any tension with his brothers. To her, family was a sparkling gift to be treasured. Any tarnish on it had to be removed right away. “I’m so sorry if you’re still having a hard time with Kellan and Rafe.”
Hooking his wrist over the top of the steering wheel, Flynn said, “It’s better now. Family stuff gets messy and complicated. Under all that tension, I know I’m damn lucky to have them.”
Good. But better didn’t sound entirely resolved. Which meant she still needed to help him get the rest of the way. Sierra put her hand on his thigh. And even with the serious vibe inside the classic car, a part of her thrilled to the thick muscle, bunched and wider than the span of her fingers. “I’m available to listen. I promise nothing you say would shock me.”
A harsh laugh erupted from Flynn. Then he sucked in a long breath between his teeth that grated like sandpaper. “Don’t bet on it.”
Wait . . . what was that about? His entire demeanor had changed. It was too dark to see much, but Sierra could tell that he’d stiffened from head to toe. She could hear the shift, the rustle of fabric against the leather of the seat. Um, weren’t they sharing? Being open and honest—both of them?
Well, Sierra had experience dealing with Flynn in a snit. He’d been that way—although never directed at her—from the day he started at the Gorse. A little snarl wouldn’t deter her. “I’m just saying—you were patient and kind to me just now. I want to do the same for you.”
“Are you kidding? It was an honor to hold you. To know that you felt safe enough with me to let go. It was a fucking gift, Sierra, to be there to help you again.” He turned onto the gravel drive to her tiny house, then parked right in front of the porch.
Well. That had to be the loveliest thing any man had ever said to her. Sierra literally did not have the level of experience to know how to respond. Because, although fast, this thing with Flynn was definitely the most serious, most deep she’d ever been with a man. Ti
me wasn’t the only measure to a relationship. Quality mattered far, far more, she’d learned.
“Call me if you get scared tonight. By anything.” He rubbed her thigh. “Even if there’s just a branch tapping on the window.”
“I’m fine. Honestly.” One moment of weakness. That was all it was.
Probably.
Deep down, Sierra knew she’d lie awake tonight, dissecting those fears that had surfaced. Would she ever stop having to worry and second-guess and wonder if the past would ruin her future?
“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.” Flynn squeezed her hand, then kissed the back of it. “Of course you’re fine. That doesn’t mean you can’t call me if you get spooked.”
“Spooked? By a branch? Like the boogeyman would try to break into my teensy, tiny house?” she teased.
“You never know.” Flynn got out of the car. Pointedly looked around the yard, then did a fast circuit around the entire house. By the time he finished, Sierra had climbed out and hefted her bag onto her shoulder.
“Are you trying to scare me?”
“Maybe a little. You’re isolated out here. Off the main road. No neighbors within shouting distance. Maybe it’d be good to be a little uneasy, to keep your guard up.”
That’s something she’d never have to do with Flynn. With the man she loved.
Omigosh.
She loved him?
The feeling didn’t hit her like a return of that elephant. It was more like being cocooned in a warm blanket, but from the inside out. Sierra loved this man. It didn’t matter that there were still so many things she didn’t know about him. She loved what she did know. Couldn’t wait to fall in love with more of him every day as he revealed himself.
She loved him.
Guess there was one more reason to lie awake tonight. Because what was she supposed to do with this feeling? Tell him? Wait for Flynn to tell her he felt the same way? What was the appropriate number of days to wait after having a panic attack to tell him that he’s loved by an emotional mess?
Did Cosmo cover that in any of their quizzes?
Flynn took the keys and unlocked the front door. “In you go. I’ve got to head back before Carlos is ready to kill me. So no trying to lure me inside with your kisses.”
That was probably for the best. If he came inside, and if they started making out with this whole love thing all fresh and swirly in her heart, there was a chance she’d blurt it out. Sierra needed this night apart from Flynn to wallow in the sweetness—and immediately lock it down.
“Fine. Be a responsible employee. But expect a whole ton of kisses when I meet you for breakfast.”
“Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck while his head dipped down. “I, uh, can’t. Meet you for breakfast. I have a bunch of things to do, starting early.”
“Okay.” That was disappointing. But entirely reasonable that the man wouldn’t be glommed on to her 24/7 every day of the week.
“I’ll see you at the Gorse tomorrow night for our shift.” Flynn tipped her chin up. “I meant what I said, Sierra. You’re stuck with me now. This alone nonsense is over. No matter what I have to do to make sure of it.” With a swift kiss on her forehead, he was gone.
No matter what? What did that mean? Was it good? Because the words sounded good, but the tone sounded . . . grim.
Now Sierra had three reasons to lie awake all night.
Chapter Eighteen
Traffic was light this early in the morning, even on Bandon’s main drag. Of course, to Flynn, compared to Chicago everything had light traffic. It meant he needed to stop stalling and start talking to his little brother before their walk ended. “Look, I don’t really need you to help me pick out a car.”
“Sure you do.” Kellan’s flip-flops slapped against the sidewalk. “You finally want to cash in on all the money you spent on my law school. Use my mad skillz—with a Z—at negotiating to force Rafe to give you a massive discount.”
He had a point. “Okay, maybe I do need you there. But it’s not why I asked you to come with me to see Rafe. I have to tell you something.”
“Is this where you finally admit I’m smarter than you? More handsome? Better at basketball?”
“We all suck at basketball.” Flynn banged his elbow against Kellan’s. “Remember when we changed HORSE to DEER so we’d get done faster?”
Kellan’s head did a fast left-right-left, as if checking before changing lanes. His voice dropped to a whisper. His shoulders hunched in. “Is this mob stuff?”
Yup, baby bro saw right through his forced teasing. “Yeah. First of all, you’re safe.”
“That’s not as reassuring as you probably intended it to be.”
They turned the corner, away from houses and onto a busier street that led to the harbor. No other pedestrians yet—just random seagulls every so often coming in hot toward the toast in Flynn’s hand—so it was safe to spill. “There’s a guy in town. Patrick O’Connor. Doing all the tourist crap. Obviously just here on vacation. But he’s in McGinty’s crew.”
Kellan’s arms flew out from his sides. “Holy shit!”
Way to attract all the wrong kinds of attention. Good thing none of the shops topped with weathered gray shingles were open yet. “Can you find a middle ground between skulking cartoon spy and overly dramatic and just listen like a normal fucking person?”
“I don’t think so. Does O’Connor know you’re here? Has he seen you guys? Are we leaving town? Will Delaney stash us in a safe house until he’s gone?”
The stream of questions irritated Flynn. Until he remembered that Kellan had zero context, and zero experience. Only the knowledge that if McGinty tracked down his brothers, their lives would be forfeit. And maybe his own, too, out of spite and revenge.
God, he hated putting Kellan through this. Exposing him to it. This was everything he and Rafe had tried to prevent. Guilt churned his stomach, sending acid up his throat. He backed up until the edge of a wooden bench bit into his legs, and he flopped down on it. Dropped his damned toast, too. If this was even one percent of what Sierra felt like during her panic attacks? He didn’t know how she stood them.
Flynn jerked his chin so Kellan would sit, too. “Rafe and I are following O’Connor. Have been since yesterday. That’s how we know what he’s been up to. You gotta believe me when I say everything points to this being a shitty coincidence, nothing more.”
Surprisingly, after a sharp double nod, Kellan calmed way the hell down. “Okay. I trust you. This is your wheelhouse, after all. What’s Delaney’s plan?”
“Not her plan. Ours.”
“You haven’t told her yet?”
“Hell, we hadn’t even told you.” Talk about a golden opportunity to drive a point home. Flynn narrowed his eyes. “Because we didn’t know where you were. We never know where you are anymore.”
That defensive jut to Kellan’s chin said fuck off louder than a neon sign. “Isn’t the whole point of our stay here to get integrated? Make friends, make a life?”
“Yeah. But we’re your brothers. We’re supposed to still be looped in to that life you’re making.”
“Hell, you weren’t this much of a nag when I was in high school.”
“The mob wasn’t hell-bent on finding and killing us back then.” Evasion duly noted. Flynn would file it under what the hell was the kid hiding and tell Rafe later. “Look, we’re following O’Connor for a day to make sure that he isn’t here on reconnaissance for a hit. Then we’ll dial in the marshal. You want her to yank us out of some knee-jerk protective reflex? Pull us out of Bandon when all we have to do is stay off this goon’s radar for a couple of days?”
The sound of his brother’s sigh was even louder than the seagull trio fighting over a shard of waffle cone in the street. “No.”
Kellan stood. Offered a hand to help Flynn to his feet. Flynn gave in to instinct and pulled him into a bear hug. They started walking again.
“Then just stay cool. Don’t go near the waterfront,” Flynn cauti
oned. “And remember that Rafe and I would literally give our lives to keep you safe.”
“See, that’s what I’d like to avoid.”
A deep laugh rolled out of Flynn. “Fuck, K. Me, too.”
The steel door to the service bay at Wick’s Garage was still down and locked up tight at nine in the morning, even though it was normally wide open to catch the breeze as well as new customers. Flynn knew it had to be Rafe taking extra security precautions with O’Connor in town.
“Wonder how he’s justifying the lockdown to Frieda?” he muttered to Kellan. “I swear that woman would bend over to pick up a penny if she was in a full body cast.”
His little brother shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his orange shorts. “Rafe managed to keep his involvement in the Chicago mob a secret from me for more than half his life. I’m guessing that coming up with a cover story for a closed door won’t tax his mental faculties.”
“You don’t get paid by the word, dude.” He bumped Kellan’s shoulder. Just for fun. Just to razz him like he used to all the time. “Would it have killed you to just say Rafe’s a good liar?”
“That’d be a waste of the one hundred and fifty thousand bucks you guys spent on my almost-law degree.” Kellan stopped walking. Jaw slack with . . . surprise? . . . confusion? . . . he asked, “Jesus Christ, was my education financed by the mob?”
A car at the end of the block honked, laying on the horn in one long, unending blast. Because Kellan had stopped dead in the center of the street. The garage wasn’t on the main drag, but there were enough people around to notice. Which was the very last thing the Maguire brothers needed.
Flynn put an arm around Kellan’s shoulders and pushed him the rest of the way to the sidewalk. Then he kept his arm tight while he whispered in Kellan’s ear. “Remember how we can’t risk O’Connor accidentally finding us? You getting run over—how much attention do you think that would attract?”
“A metric shit-ton of attention. Especially if I got taken to the hospital and Mollie saw me in my briefs and decided to leave Rafe for my obviously bigger, ah, attributes.”
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