Grabbing for the forgotten water, Sierra downed it in three fast gulps. “Could I push my luck and ask for another favor?”
“This job offer isn’t a favor, trust me.” Delaney beckoned for her to continue with one hand. “But sure, go for it.”
“I still want to teach. Without proof of my degrees, though, it’ll be impossible for me to get a job anywhere.”
“That’s it? You want transcripts?”
“Yes. They don’t exist for Sierra Williams.”
Delaney stood, paced the length of the house. Shook her head when it took less than ten steps, and then returned. “I’ll verify your actual transcripts. Making a set under your current name won’t be any trouble after that.”
It was that simple? After all these months of assuming her dream of teaching was gone for good? Maybe she should’ve gone to the authorities sooner.
Or maybe everything had happened at the right time, for the right reason. That would take some more pondering once her pulse stopped racing with joy. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Acting on impulse, she hugged Delaney. The marshal stiffened initially, but she did come around to a few light pats on Sierra’s back.
“To be clear, you’ll have to testify under your real name. Once we catch Wayne and Rick, the danger to you will be over. Would you like protection until then?”
“No. I’ve already got protection.” Sierra heard the confidence brimming in her words.
It was true that she’d never felt safer than when with Flynn. The problem was that she’d said some harsh things to him. Judged him, in a way he hadn’t judged her at all when she’d shared her story. Flynn was such a good guy, he’d protect her no matter what. Even if their relationship was over.
But she hoped that wasn’t the case.
Chapter Twenty-three
A tap on his shoulder had Flynn spinning around, fists raised. Especially dangerous since one held a hammer.
Rafe leapt backward, banging into the workbench before tripping over a pile of wood scraps. His mouth moved, and from the thunderous expression on his face, Flynn wasn’t at all sad he couldn’t hear the words.
He yanked off his headphones. “I thought we had a rule. No sneaking up on each other. Not so much a safe thing to do with ex-mobsters.”
“That’s why I tapped you on the shoulder. To not sneak up on you. Jesus H, Flynn. There’s no danger here. Overreact much?”
Flynn thought about that as he put the hammer down on the grass. “No. Not an overreaction at all. Just because O’Connor’s gone doesn’t mean there’s no danger.”
“He’s not just gone. More importantly, he didn’t come here for us. Our cover’s still rock solid. No one from McGinty’s crew has any idea we’re in Bandon.”
Yeah. But . . . “We got lazy, depending on the marshals to keep us safe.”
“You got spooked,” Rafe corrected.
“Maybe it was a sign that we should keep our guard up.”
“No way. I’m not living with one eye over my shoulder and one arm cocked again. Not in this new life we’ve got. This thing with O’Connor turned out to be a big fat nothing. So quit with the fists as your first go-to.”
Rafe was right. Flynn hadn’t so much cared before if danger came down the pike and necessitated another move. Now that he did, he’d overreacted. Covering, he said, “You’re scared because you know I can take you.”
“I’m scared you’d embarrass yourself trying.”
Flynn decided to test the normalcy of their brotherly bond. He’d either get an elbow to the face or an answer that would help him sleep at night. “Hey, Rafe? Can I ask you something?”
His older brother tugged at the dark wave of hair atop his head. “Shit. Now what’s wrong?”
“You just said we shouldn’t be living under a Code Red mentality.” He wiped his hands on his shorts to get rid of the wood dust. “Why assume anything’s wrong?”
“Because I know you. Because the last innocent question you asked me was if I wanted sausage on our last pie at Lou Malnati’s.”
Son of a bitch. Like Flynn wasn’t having a shitty enough day without that reminder of one of the things he missed most about his former life. “Why’d you have to go and mention pizza? Every time I get the craving for some deep-dish under control, you go and bring it up.”
“That’s the problem with going cold turkey. Cutting off an addiction like that never works.”
Not as if they’d had a choice.
Rafe of all people should remember that, seeing as how he was the one who made the unilateral decision to uproot them. But Flynn understood why, and wouldn’t be giving his brother grief about it anymore. He’d spent too long already moping about the past.
With a hope in his voice he barely felt, Flynn said, “Think we can split a pie when we go back to testify?”
Rafe shook his head. And had the decency to look damned sad about it. “We can’t go to the restaurant. It’d be one of the first places McGinty would send people to look for us. But maybe we could sweet talk Delaney into bringing us takeout.”
“I dunno. I’m pretty sure the favor I asked her for this week already pushed the limit.” Flynn was, in fact, positive he couldn’t ask her for another favor and needed to do something nice for her. Over-the-top nice. He’d offer to build her something, but he had no idea if the marshal even had a real home, or just followed her protectees around the country 24/7.
Didn’t that just put things into perspective about his six months of bitching about the homes she’d tried to get him to accept?
“You asked for help changing someone’s life,” Rafe said. “This isn’t close to being on the same level. I’ll give her the money. I just want a fucking slice.”
The ferocity in his tone gave Flynn more than a little satisfaction. It was only right that Rafe should crave it as much as he did. “About the whole danger thing . . .”
“Christ. We’re circling back to that? You want to rig up pots and pans hanging from the ceiling like Home Alone in case someone tries to break in?”
“Very funny.” Flynn twisted his upper body to deliver a high side and back kick combo to the air. “You forget that I know seven ways to completely disable, if not kill, an opponent with my bare hands. I don’t need a homemade alarm to keep me safe.”
“Then what’s with the one-track mind?”
Flynn paced a slow circle around the bookcase he’d almost finished. He’d been too busy having fun with Sierra all these weeks to work on it. That excuse was gone now. It looked solid and normal. Just like them.
One kick and it’d shatter, though. One kick to their family and the Maguires might shatter. They were only strong and solid when they were put together right. Like they were getting back to now. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be yanked apart again.
He smoothed a hand over the well-sanded top. “Do you ever feel guilty for getting Mollie involved in all of this? For the danger that might—at some point—come our way? She’d be in the cross fire if that happened.”
“There’s an image I didn’t need in my head.” Rafe scrubbed his palms over his eyes.
“Don’t stand there and pretend it hasn’t occurred to you.”
“Fine.” Rafe toed out a chair from the glass-topped table and sank into it. “Of course I worry about Mollie. You and I, we can take care of ourselves. But Kellan? Mollie? They don’t know our world. They don’t know how vicious it can get.”
“So how do you live with the guilt of dragging her into it?”
“I don’t have any. I still feel guilt for dragging you two into WITSEC, but I’ve got zero on my conscience about Mollie.”
“Why?” Flynn asked as he dropped into the opposite chair.
That was the key question. He’d thought that telling Sierra the truth was the right thing to do. But even though she’d broken up with him, what if she worried every night? Without him around to comfort her? He was fucking racked with guilt for dialing her in to his messed-up life.
>
“Because Mollie’s an adult. I laid out the facts. Staying with me was her decision. I mean, I’m awesome and all that, but she could’ve walked away.”
Flynn knew his brother’s ego was big, but that was off the charts. “You think your alleged awesomeness is bigger than the possibility of being gunned down when we walk past that weird-ass red statue into the Dirksen Courthouse in October?”
“Mollie’s a doctor. She’s more aware than most how quickly a life can end, without any warning. So she focuses on enjoying each day that she gets. Each day that we get together. It took some convincing on my part. I didn’t think I was being fair to her. It’s why I refused to date her when we met.”
“You did date her.” In fact, Rafe, who’d left a trail of women in his wake in Chicago without so much as a backward glance, had dated Mollie from day one like his life depended on it. Flynn had never seen someone fall so hard, so fast—all while trying to deny it. He and Kellan laughed about it all the time.
Rafe’s whole face sort of . . . melted. Melted into a look of love that said he’d follow Mollie anywhere. Even go shopping with her on Black Friday, if that’s what it took to get another kiss. “Well, that woman’s damned irresistible. The point is that I was worried about the future. She taught me to enjoy the present. Because, yeah, it may be all we get. Might as well live it up.”
“I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
“I’d say you haven’t thought about much of anything besides how pissed off you were for a long time. Now that Sierra got you to pull your head out of your ass, you should live it up, too. Do something awesome for the Fourth.”
“I tried that. My girlfriend broke up with me. And I have to be at work in three hours to help everyone else celebrate the holiday.”
Rafe winced. “Mollie and I’ll swing by the Gorse later. Keep you company after the fireworks. How’s that?”
“Probably the best offer I’ll get. Thanks.”
Female laughter floated down the path along the side of the house. He didn’t need to look up to know that Sierra was one of them. He’d recognize her laughter, her voice, her scent anywhere. When they appeared from the behind the six-foot-tall bush with big red flowers, Flynn white-knuckled the arms of the chair to keep himself from leaping up and running to her.
Karen stopped first, with her hands planted on her hips. “Flynn, where’s your sexy brother?”
“I’m right here,” Rafe said, sounding plenty put out.
“Very funny. You’re not only taken, you’re not my type.”
Even Mollie looked surprised, along with amused. “You don’t go for tall, dark, and muscled?”
“In my fantasies, sure. In real life?” Karen’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Your man’s too much for me. He has a dangerous swagger about him.”
“I know.” Mollie wrapped her arms around Rafe’s neck and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “It’s super hot.”
“I like my men more . . . polished. Suave. Kellan seems like he knows things. Like he’d know how to show me a good time.”
“We don’t know where he is. But you can bet I’ll tell him that you’re interested. If he’s absorbed even half of my charm and talents with women over the years, I guarantee he’ll come through on that good time.”
Flynn couldn’t believe they were standing there talking like everything was normal.
It wasn’t. It wasn’t fucking normal at all. Because Sierra was across the yard, not looking at him, not touching him. And he didn’t have any damn right to go over there.
God, it hurt. Yet he couldn’t stop looking at her, in her plain white tank and denim shorts, with a red, white, and blue striped bow around her ponytail. He couldn’t stop drinking her in like she was the first water he’d been given after a week crawling across the desert. Sierra looked beautiful. She looked like everything he wanted.
Everything he couldn’t have.
Mollie tugged Rafe out of his chair. “Hey, Karen and I were hoping you could set us up with some cold ginger ales. We’ve been on the boardwalk with the sun beating down for too long.”
Rafe looked at all three women. Then over at Flynn, confusion pulling his brows together. “Suuuure,” he drawled out.
Karen and Mollie hustled him inside. Flynn just kept his grip tight on the arms of the chair. Because he didn’t know what Sierra was doing here. She’d made it clear that he wasn’t supposed to talk to her. Wasn’t supposed to make any move at all in her direction.
So all he could do was sit there, keep his mouth shut, and wait for her to do . . . something.
She set down her sketchpad, the easel from under her arm, and slid her backpack to the ground. “Hi,” she said in a small voice.
It was like gargling with gravel, but he managed to get a return “Hi” out of his bone-dry throat.
“I did sketches on the boardwalk today. For money. It went really well.”
God, he was proud of her. Sitting up a little straighter, Flynn said, “Of course it did. Your talent is amazing.”
A smile bloomed across Sierra’s face, and pink raced across her cheeks. “See? That’s why I wanted to come here. When I finished, all I wanted to do was race over and tell you how well it went. Because I knew you’d be supportive. I knew you’d understand what a huge step it was for me.”
Cautiously, Flynn asked, “What made you change your mind, decide to make money off your art again?”
“A lot of things.” She held up a hand and ticked off points on her fingers. “The girls reminded me that I should make money off of something I love, something I’m good at. The marshal reminded me that pretty soon, they’ll close the door on that horrible chapter of my life, and it shouldn’t haunt me anymore. And you, Flynn, most of all. Your belief in me gave me the strength to do it.”
Her words shocked him. Sierra was acting normal, too. Like they hadn’t fought. Like she hadn’t dumped him. Like he hadn’t broken her heart and trust—even if accidentally. “I’m glad I could help.” It was all Flynn let himself say. He didn’t dare push at all for more. He didn’t deserve it.
As if noticing it for the first time, she did a double take at the bookcase. Walked around it, stepping over the can of whitewash and the paintbrush at its corner. “Is this for me?”
“Yes.” God, they were being so careful with each other. Was this what it was going to be like from now on?
“Given how our fight ended on Sunday, I’m shocked that you kept working on it.”
Aaaand her surprise shocked him right back. In fact, it propelled Flynn right out of his seat. “Why?”
Still not looking at him, Sierra stood on tiptoe to run her fingertips across the whisper-soft grain of the wood he’d sanded this morning. “What if I don’t forgive you?”
As if that made any difference whatsoever. Aside from how it hurt worse than a kick to the balls. She was imprinted on his heart now. Hell, she was his whole heart. Even if it made her mad again, Flynn had to speak the truth. “That won’t stop me from loving you.”
At that, Sierra turned. A fat tear wobbled in the corner of each eye. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“It is?” Flynn hadn’t let himself hope she’d change her mind.
He’d given up on hope of getting what he wanted out of life years ago, when McGinty laid down the law on every aspect of it. Until WITSEC, weirdly enough. Until moving here, to a town where the people refused to let you sulk in silence. Where everyone did their own thing and was accepted for it. Where he’d discovered how much he liked doing a job he’d sure as hell never planned for.
Where the gift of Sierra’s love made him believe in the future again.
This time, he knew he’d ultimately be okay, with his brothers and his job and his friends.
But the thing was, he wanted more than okay. He wanted Sierra. He wanted, as much as it made him sound like a Disney fucking princess, a happily ever after with her.
Sierra knelt on the grass. Then she lifted the cover
on her sketchpad, flipped to the back, and tore out a piece of paper. “I brought you something. A peace offering. An I’m so sorry I was judgmental gift.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It is,” she insisted. “It took me a little time to come around to it, but the fact is that you didn’t do anything that I didn’t do first. I lied about my name. So did you. I lied about my past. So did you.”
“The past you lied about was a god-awful scam you got bamboozled into. A crime you witnessed, but didn’t commit. My past involved being a sworn member of an organization that committed crimes and hurt people. What we did wasn’t the same at all.”
“It was. You never committed a crime, Flynn. And—what matters the most—you didn’t want to be bad. You just stood by and watched, like me. I kept my secrets to keep myself safe. You did it to keep your brothers safe. Most importantly, we finally shared them because we cared enough to be honest with each other.”
It all sounded too good to be true. It sounded like Sierra wasn’t mad at him anymore. But he knew, deep down, that he didn’t deserve it. “That sounds a lot like you giving me an out.”
“I’m not. Because what you did, lying to me, was wrong. Just like what I did, lying to you, was wrong.” Those big blue eyes looked up at him, shining with tears, but also shining with all the care and tenderness he was used to seeing in her gaze. “But I’m forgiving you, Flynn.”
“Are you sure that’s smart?” He had to be certain she meant it. Certain that Sierra had considered all the facts. Because he couldn’t take it if she changed her mind in two days. Or by Labor Day. Or ever.
“I thought I was being smart by breaking up with you. To protect myself from the potential of repeating a mistake. To protect my heart. But there’s nothing to protect without you. Everything is better when I share it with you. I don’t want to be with someone with a clean record, an upstanding citizen. I want to be with you, Flynn. I need you in my life, by my side. So I forgive you. And I hope that you forgive me, too. For lying to you, and for what I put you through these past couple of days while I worked everything out in my head.”
Never Been Good Page 29
