From the Start

by Cheryl Etchison

  She, like him, wanted to see just where this relationship might lead. But there was one thing she needed to make clear: her fellowship, her career, came first. At least for now.

  “You do realize I probably won’t have time to come visit? And you can’t be farther than two hours away from Savannah. How will that work?”

  He shrugged it off. “You’ll be so busy it’s likely we wouldn’t see much of each other even if we lived in the same city.”

  “But that’s basically saying we might not see each other for the entire year. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

  Another shrug. “Absolutely.”

  It would be so easy to say yes. Almost too easy. “You’d really be willing to go without sex for an entire year?” she asked skeptically.

  “For you, yes. Besides, a year isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things.” An arrogant smile spread across his face. “After all, that’s what phone sex is for.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kacie smiled to herself as Michael sang along to the twenty-year-old Black Crowes song that blared from the car speakers. Any nerves she might have felt about having dinner with his brother and sister-in-law eased the moment he arrived on her doorstep. And now, as she watched him bang out the drumbeat on the steering wheel as he navigated his way through Savannah traffic, she found herself completely relaxed.

  In the three weeks since her sister’s wedding, despite the fact they’d been sleeping together for months, she felt she’d finally come to know the real Michael MacGregor. And what she’d learned was that he was the closest thing she’d ever known to a grown-up Boy Scout. Although he’d be quick to deny the suggestion, his actions told the story. He was a man who routinely checked on the elderly woman who lived on the first floor below him and often carried out her trash and fetched her mail. He had a photo of his mother in his wallet and spoke to his father every weekend. He loved southern rock almost as much as he loved sweets and often preferred to drink lemonade over almost anything else.

  Michael was also a man of his word. Despite being busy with work, he found time to haul the things she no longer needed to donation centers and helped her pack the remainder. Then, just as promised, he whisked her away to Sapelo Island, where he rented a house on the marsh for the weekend. That was really when she caught a glimpse of what a future with Michael might be like as they spent the weekend talking, laughing, and making love.

  And then there was the other, decidedly non–Boy Scout side. The side that liked to say the dirtiest things she’d ever heard in her life. The side that liked to tie her hands, so he could tease and torment her just a little bit. The side that didn’t protest when she suggested doing the same to him.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Kacie turned to find him watching her. “Nothing, really. Why do you ask?”

  He flashed that cocky smile, the one that showed off his dimples. “Your cheeks are rosy pink.”

  She brushed her hair back from her face and felt the heat rising off her skin. “I was just thinking about last weekend.”

  “Hmm . . .”

  That was his only response; he kept his eyes on the road, finally turning onto his brother’s street where he parked along the curb in front of a small bungalow. Then he shut off the engine and stared intently at her with those deep blue eyes. “Making plans for dessert already?”

  His words were a low rumble, scraping across her nerves and setting them afire.

  She swallowed hard, then laughed because that’s what she always did when he made her just the slightest bit uncomfortable. He, of course, chuckled because he took great satisfaction in teasing her.

  Then he climbed out of the car and rushed around to help her out. Even held her hand as they made their way up the front walk. But before they reached the porch steps, the front door swung open. And there stood his brother—a slightly shorter, bulkier version of Michael, with dark brown hair and a dimple in his chin.

  “It’s about damn time he’s brought you for dinner,” Danny bellowed as he shoved open the screen door. “How are you doing, Kacie?”

  She was somewhat surprised he remembered her name seeing as they had only met the one time, months ago. Either he had a really great memory or someone had been talking about her.

  “I’m well, thank you,” she replied.

  Within moments of stepping inside, they were joined by his wife, Bree. “Welcome to our happy little construction zone,” she said with a smile. She then gave them a short tour through the two-bedroom, one-bath house they had hopes of transforming into three bedrooms and two baths by knocking down a wall and expanding into the backyard.

  As they made their way into the kitchen, Danny appeared through the back door with a metal tank in his hand. “I gotta run to the store. Just realized I’m outta propane.” Danny grabbed a set of car keys off the counter. “Anything else I need to pick up while I’m out?”

  “Not that I can think of,” Bree replied.

  As the two of them talked, movement on the other side of the kitchen caught her eye. Kacie turned just in time to see Michael swiping cookies from a jar on the far counter. He had no shame though, smiling proudly at her as he replaced the lid. As he made his way back to her, he shoved one into his mouth.

  “I can’t believe you,” Kacie whispered as she brushed away a stray crumb from his chin. “Stealing cookies?”

  “I didn’t steal anything,” he said around a mouthful of cookie. “Those cookies are for me. I bought Bree the cookie jar for Christmas, therefore what gets put inside belongs to me. Do you want one?” he asked, offering her the other.

  “No!” she whispered harshly.

  “Suit yourself.” Michael smiled wide, then shamelessly shoved the second cookie in his mouth as well.

  “In case you didn’t know it already, Michael is a dessert whore.”

  Kacie looked back at Bree, who was not at all upset. If anything, she was quite amused.

  “I’ve seen what he can do to a box of pastries,” Kacie replied.

  Bree laughed as she unloaded a variety of fruit onto the counter. “He’ll do just about anything for sweets. As a matter of fact, I’m surprised he hasn’t been kicked out of regiment for his habit since it’s bad enough it could compromise operational security.”

  Michael shook his head. “You all exaggerate.”

  Bree arched one brow. “If you say so.”

  The three of them spent the next few minutes chatting about their work and her upcoming fellowship. They talked about sports and avoided politics. As far as first dinners with the family went, things were going relatively well until they began discussing the planned renovations for the house.

  “When are you going to start on the master suite?” Michael asked. “I’ll need to make sure my calendar is full so I don’t get wrangled into any home improvement projects.”

  “Please.” Bree arched one brow and flashed him a look before going back to chopping up salad ingredients. “Like you’ve helped with anything so far.”

  Kacie sat on the bar stool, completely entertained by the conversation that ping-ponged back and forth between Bree and Michael. Especially since Michael had told her they were far closer than in-laws, more like true siblings. Actually, more than once he’d referred to her as the bratty little sister he never had.

  “I wanted to start on the master suite after the first of the year,” Bree admitted. “But Danny wants to wait until next summer, since he doesn’t want me dealing with construction and renovations while he’s deployed. But with that logic, we might never get all the remodeling done.”

  “Not if he doesn’t re-up.”

  Suddenly, the mood shifted and the once happy and light room grew cold. Bree deliberately placed the large kitchen knife on the cutting board and looked Michael directly in the eyes. “We’re not going to have that discussion again.”

  “We have to. He should be getting his reenlistment papers any day.”

  Bree broke eye contact and snatched
up a kitchen towel to dry her hands. “He already has them.”

  “And what? That’s it?” Michael swore under his breath and pounded his fist on the island. “I can’t believe you’re going to let him re-up.”

  “And I still can’t believe you tried to get your own brother thrown out of the army when you know how much he loves it,” Bree countered.

  Michael looked as if he’d been slapped. “Who told you that?”

  “Please, Michael. Do not play dumb.”

  Kacie held her breath, uncertain of whether or not she should intervene or remain silent. After all, this was a family affair and she wasn’t family.

  Michael took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. From where she sat, Kacie could see his pulse thrumming in his neck, the heavy rise and fall of his chest. When he finally spoke, his words were low and cold.

  “I gave the same recommendation for Danny that I would’ve given anyone else.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Bree challenged. She looked at him for a long moment, before tossing the dish towel over her shoulder and resuming her dinner preparations. “What I say doesn’t matter anyway. Danny’s not going to leave the army, at least not in the next ten years if he can help it. You know this. I know this. Anyone who has ever met him knows this.”

  “You can talk him out of it, Bree. He’ll listen to you. If you tell him not to, he won’t do it, because he’ll do anything for you.”

  Bree shook her head. “I would never ask him to leave the army.”

  “Why the hell not?” Michael yelled.

  Unable to stand by and watch any longer, Kacie rose from her seat and placed her hand on his arm. “Michael, you need to calm down.”

  He jerked his arm from her touch and closed the space between himself and Bree, to the point he was practically hovering over her. “Do you remember how you felt when that chaplain knocked on your door? Do you remember waiting hours on end to get an update on his condition? He might not be so lucky next time. Tell him you want him to quit.”

  “I won’t do it, Michael.”

  “Why not?” he bellowed again.

  Bree refused to look up at him, choosing instead to halve and quarter the cherry tomatoes on the cutting board in front of her. Michael finally backed away and began pacing across the small kitchen, running both hands through his hair in frustration.

  Kacie could see the tears welling in Bree’s eyes. “Because it was the one thing he asked me to not do before we married.”

  “Before your arranged marriage, or whatever you two called it?” Michael folded his arms across his chest and laughed without humor. “That’s a bullshit excuse.”

  “It’s called a marriage of convenience,” Bree answered calmly. “Besides, you know damn well that’s not what we have now.”

  “Exactly!” Michael smacked his open palm against the island counter. “So why are you still adhering to stipulations he made back then? Put your damn foot down.”

  Bree dropped the knife and walked right up to Michael, took hold of his arms and looked him straight in the eyes. “You know he found himself in the army. I will not ask him to give that up. I will not ask him to leave his friends and what he believes in, for me. And I sure as hell won’t make him choose.”

  Michael scoffed and attempted to pull away, but Bree held strong.

  “Don’t think I’m not scared to death every time he’s deployed. Every time he’s out training. I know how easily things can go wrong.” Her voice was shaking. “How do you think I felt when I received the call about so many of the guys getting killed and injured last year?”

  This time he did pull back, yanking himself from her grasp so violently Bree nearly fell down in the process. “How do you think I felt?” he shot back. “I was there, Bree. You don’t need to fucking remind me how many men we lost on our last deployment. Who do you think signs their death certificates?”

  Bree’s expression crumpled and the tears finally streamed down her face. She closed the distance between them once again, placing her hand on his cheek. “Michael.”

  He pulled away from her touch without ever looking at her. “Maybe we should do this another time.”

  Kacie was still trying to process all that she’d seen and heard when Michael stormed past her, headed for the front door. “I’ll be in the car.”

  Kacie turned to face Bree, her heart racing. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  Bree waved off her apology. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’ve never seen him so upset. I’m kind of surprised.”

  Bree took a settling breath and tried her best to smile. “Michael’s under a lot of pressure and has been for a very long time. Most of it is self-imposed. But he’s one of the best men I’ve ever known. So don’t let what happened here tonight change your opinion of him.” Bree leaned in to give her a quick hug. “We’ll do this another time.”

  By the time Kacie made it outside, Michael already had the car running, clearly impatient to get the hell out of there.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll just drop you off at your place,” he said after she closed the passenger door.

  It definitely wasn’t a side of him she’d ever seen before. Rigid. Uncompromising. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t trouble her more than a bit.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about whatever it was that happened in there?”

  “I’m sure.”

  And with those two words, he effectively ended the conversation.

  As he wove his way through Savannah traffic, she watched him closely. How he held the steering wheel in a death grip. How the muscles in his jaw flexed. There was little denying his anger, and if she had to give him credit for anything, it was keeping it in check for the most part. When they reached her street, he didn’t even pull into the driveway. Instead, he just stopped along the sidewalk.

  “Why don’t you come in for a while?” she asked, reaching for the door handle. “I can make us something to eat.”

  Silently she hoped he would say yes. Then she’d try her damnedest to make things better for him, because clearly he was hurting.

  “I don’t think I’d be very fun company tonight,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She had been, in a word, dismissed.

  He made no movement to kiss her goodbye. As a matter of fact, he never even shifted the car into Park. Just kept his foot on the break long enough for her to climb out and shut the door behind her before he roared off down the street.

  Michael slammed his apartment door closed behind him and threw his keys on the coffee table. When he looked up, his mother’s face stared back at him from the framed picture on his bookshelf. For most of his life she’d been a two-dimensional image rather than a flesh and blood person. His recollections of her were few and far between and were becoming less and less vivid as each year passed. But one thing that remained, her voice as crystal clear as the day she said it: Take care of your brother, Michael.

  The memory of it was like a record skipping in his brain.

  Take care of your brother.

  Take care of your brother.

  Take care of your brother.

  Sometimes he could bump the needle and the song would continue on to another verse instead of hanging up on the chorus that had played in his head since he was ten. It was during those times he was able to go on living normally—well, as normal a life as someone could while bearing that kind of responsibility.

  But ever since that afternoon in Mali, from the moment he heard Danny’s teammates over the command radio alerting the rest of the squad he’d been injured, when he heard them calling for a medic, followed by the eerily calm request for a medevac, he’d been in a heightened state of panic. It didn’t matter that his brother was back home now, not only completely recovered from his injuries but living life with the woman he loved. What mattered was that Michael couldn’t let it happen again. Because in his gut, he knew Danny wouldn’t be so lucky the secon
d time.

  Take care of your brother.

  Take care of your brother.

  Take care of your brother.

  Michael scrubbed his hands over his face, wanting it to stop. He spun on his heel, his fist meeting the wall, then disappearing into the hollow space behind the shattered Sheetrock. Sparks of pain shot up his wrist to his elbow and his hand throbbed in time with his heart as he pulled his fist from the hole.

  Clutching his hand, he turned and slid down the wall until his butt met the floor. As he wiggled each digit and tested the flex of his tendons, he realized just how lucky he was to not have hit a wall stud. Aside from a few minor cuts and bruising, it didn’t appear he’d done any major damage. Otherwise he’d be on the way to an emergency room for at the very least a cast, if not surgery.

  He was an idiot.

  He propped his forearms on his knees and leaned his head back against the wall, trying to calm his mind and racing heart.

  At least the skipping had stopped for the moment.

  It was hard to believe only a few weeks earlier he had thought he was about to have some control over his life, have real options for the first time in years. But all he’d succeeded in doing was kidding himself.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kacie spent the next hour running so many loops around Daffin Park that she actually lost count. When she returned to her packed-up house, she was still in disbelief, trying to figure out how their evening ended so abruptly. There was even a moment where she wondered if she ought to count her blessings and call the whole long-distance thing off. The last thing she needed was to be committed to a man who would completely shut down and push her away when he was upset.

  But then she’d recalled the look on his face when he talked about signing death certificates, his pain so evident. She hadn’t known he was hiding so much hurt.

  After a quick shower, Kacie dressed and slipped on her flip-flops, convinced that he needed someone to talk to. And that person might as well be her.