Her fingers turned the knob. “Because I’ve managed to fall in love, and that’s despite never having been loved myself, not once.”
He stared at her. What was she talking about? Who did she fall for? That colleague from the food hall? Some other—
“With you, Eli,” Sloane said gently. “I’m in love with you.”
His knees folded and his ass dropped to the bed.
“And I don’t want to pretend it away any longer or enter in any kind of pretend relationship,” she continued. “Not when I know, after my time here with you, what a real, solid romantic partnership could be like.”
It was past his turn to talk, but speech was beyond him.
She smiled a little, as if she knew. “So thank you, Eli King, for showing me that. And for making me sure I want and deserve to be loved.”
And with that, she was gone.
Stunned and dismayed, he remained on the bed a while longer and then stumbled into the shower, standing under the hot spray as he tried to grapple with what she’d said and how he felt about it. The woman’s words had blindsided him and yet…and yet…
And yet his emotions were so damn mixed he couldn’t keep a single thought in his head. Instead, fragments of conversation drifted in—I’m in love with you. You’ve been using your business and your sisters as a reason not to live a full life—then slid out again, to be replaced by a myriad of Sloane-expressions, bliss, bewilderment, hurt. I don’t want anything fake with you, Eli.
That’s what he’d offered a beautiful, resolute woman who took on life still wearing a smile, though it had knocked her down one time, two times, three…he’d proposed a phony relationship to that wonderful woman who’d been sharing his bed.
What a fucking prince.
Angry at himself, at her for pointing up just what a misstep he’d made, he emerged from his bedroom, instantly aware the first floor was empty. So he stalked up the stairs, hoping that upon confronting her the chaos in his head would clear and he’d say…
That was the issue—he didn’t know his next step.
But once on the upper landing, he sensed a vacancy there, too. He strode first to the room Sloane had used, at the far end of the hall. No sign of her or her belongings.
Paige’s room was devoid of her presence as well. The bed was neatly made and the toys in the playroom put away. Bookshelves in order. No Boo.
Not even a stray dog hair or any sign of Baby Sally.
That’s when he realized Sloane must have been prepared to leave him. Surely just yesterday there’d been a jumble of books and doll clothes on the rose-patterned rug. The bed’s coverlet had been rumpled and the pillow askew. Now all was in order…as if Paige and Boo and Sloane had never been there.
Fine. Okay. That made today so much easier, right? That made getting back to his pre-spring break life a much simpler thing.
Turning, he began to leave, then his gaze snagged on the pencil marks on the doorjamb. Nora, Allison, Lynnie, Molly, a graphic sign of the passage of years. His head lowered and he glanced at the spot where he’d measured Paige, his finger on the wood at the level of the crown of her head. Though he’d made no indication with ink or lead, he saw it as if he had, as if words had been written.
Paige was here.
Boo was here.
Sloane was here.
But all three had gone and left him. Like his sisters would go someday, leaving this house eternally empty. His gut clenched and a surge of cold certainty rushed through him, pushing out other emotions. Staring at the doorjamb, he knew what must be done.
It was a matter of minutes to collect the small pry bar from the garage. Then he was in the doorway of the playroom again. The next people to live in this place wouldn’t want the old toys, the old books, the old memories.
They assaulted him then, little girls swirling through his memory like ghosts clamoring for his attention—to check their homework, to braid their hair, to can-you-believe what their friend Amy/Nicole/Jessica/Teagan had said. Always standing between him and the freedom most men of his age experienced.
Little girls who’d brought to his life laughter and order. Who gave it meaning.
Who’d kept him so busy he’d never fully dealt with the loss of his mother and father.
You use them as a defense against more potential grief because you were so hurt when those you loved left you.
Where the fuck were his sisters now when he needed some distraction from this new pain?
As if in answer, he heard the lock of the front door give and the telltale squeal of its hinges. For a second, he wondered if his house guests had returned, but then familiar voices sounded and familiar footsteps clattered up the stairs.
A familiar figure stood in the hallway, finding him with tool in hand. She eyed that, eyed him. “You guys!” Molly yelled without taking her gaze off him. “He’s up here!”
Then Peanut Shell joined Peanut—or was it the other way around?—and it cut to realize the King siblings would never know the real story behind that joke. They’d never know all the stories that belonged to their parents. They only had each other—and the family folklore they’d created on their own.
All four sisters were staring at him now. Then they were looking at the pry bar and then the doorjamb, each one of them so damn clever.
“I wasn’t going to do anything,” he said, feeling guilty, as if he were the naughty child caught red-handed. But it was true, he wouldn’t have harmed that innocent piece of wood.
The next owners would have to take care of it. Paint and brush perhaps, or—
Shit. He looked down at the tool. Could he save that piece of wood with those measurements somehow, detaching it from the rest of the trim without causing damage?
“Put the weapon down,” Nora called out, smirking at him, “and back away slowly.”
Right. A problem for another day.
Walking toward his siblings, he addressed their surprise, early arrival. “What’s this about, girls? Is the car wrecked? Were you run out of town by a jealous girlfriend? Did Allison finally admit she can’t sleep without that boy band night-light she’s had for a decade?”
Then the sisters were upon him, hugging, chattering, exclaiming, their voices echoing in his head and off the walls of this house that warmed with their presence. They provided an excellent diversion and he was caught up in the maelstrom of their return. A pile of their luggage appeared in the front entrance and the washer and dryer began a vigorous workout. The four expressed surprise at the foodstuffs in the pantry and were in near-shock over the leftovers in the fridge that didn’t come in take-out boxes.
Not until dinner, when they all sat around the table eating from the lasagna and the chicken broccoli casseroles left by his house guest, did he hear about the blow-by-blow details of their vacation. They tripped all over each other in describing their adventures and he laughed and grimaced and expressed big-brother concern when appropriate. It felt like old times, good times, and he relaxed in his chair, sipping beer and pretending to himself that all was well.
Returned to normal.
Then four pairs of clever King gazes fixed on him and Lynnie asked the first leading question, making clear it was his turn to talk. So he told them about his two weeks—a stripped-down version. Before, he’d mentioned the neighbor’s roof issue and that Sloane and company had moved into the house to Molly, but he explained the necessity again. And then…Christ, and then he was confiding more. Not all, not everything Sloane had admitted to that morning, but Eli told his sisters about his offer of a temporary engagement as a way to put a damper on the scheming grandparents who thought to take Sloane’s daughter from her.
“She refused you?” Allison said, and he didn’t know which part of what he’d spilled had caused her eyebrows to climb halfway to her hairline.
“Yeah.” He pushed his plate aside. “And the way things were left between us… I suppose I’m telling you this because if we meet again, there might be awkwardness.”
&nbs
p; “How’s that?” Molly asked.
“She didn’t appreciate—” He broke off, and looked around the table. “Am I so wrong for wanting to make things easier for her?”
They didn’t have an answer to his demand.
Later, Nora found him in the family room, brooding on the couch, something playing on the TV as background noise. She slid a wrapped present onto the coffee table in front of him.
“I found this in the linen closet.”
“Oh.”
“It bears your distinctive wrapping style.”
She meant the bow was crooked. Over ten years of packaging gifts for birthdays and holidays and he’d still not mastered ribbon. “It’s Paige’s birthday party tomorrow.”
“Lynnie and Molly were invited,” Nora said. “How about you?”
“The birthday girl asked me herself.”
His sister settled onto the couch beside him. “You should go.”
“Sloane called me a white knight,” Eli said, shaking his head. “And not in a good way.”
Nora smiled a little. “Is that right?”
“She claims she doesn’t want to be rescued.”
“I suppose your offer of a temporary…alliance felt patronizing.”
“Is that a crack about being old again?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“No.” She laughed. “But I can see how those white knights seemed annoyingly noble on their high horses.”
“You’re mixing metaphors.”
“Am I?” Nora asked. “Those guys rode above the fray in all that protective armor. Never risking, you know, their hearts.”
Above the fray. Protective armor. Never risking their hearts. Eli stared at her. “I’m afraid of you.”
She laughed again. “You should at least go to Paige’s party. It will clarify things…and probably clear that bad taste from your mouth.”
He opened it to protest, but he could see she was right. One, he couldn’t disappoint the birthday girl who had invited him herself, and two, he didn’t feel like ducking Sloane for the rest of his life. Eli King, as the last years had proven, was no coward.
And clearing the bad taste from his mouth wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“How’d you get to be so smart?” he asked Nora.
“I was raised by the best.”
He smiled. “Mom and Dad would be happy to hear that.”
Nora just looked at him, then kicked him in the leg with a bare foot. “I’m talking about you, idiot. I haven’t forgotten a thing that I learned from you.”
After everyone had gone to bed, what she’d said kept running through his head. He stared at his bedroom ceiling for a long while and sleepless, finally got up to do something he hadn’t in years. Being as quiet as he could, he made his way to the roof. There, he took a seat and stared upward, waiting for the anger to rise. This time he meant to embrace it, to experience it fully, to—he hoped—let it finally burn out.
But instead of finding himself silently shouting at the stars like he used to, he breathed deeply of the cold night air. Instead of heated emotion leaving him, a cool calm entered him, a sense of approval, and a self-knowledge that he’d done well. That in doing the best he could, he’d managed to keep them all solid, centered, together.
At last, he made a promise to his parents—to cherish family and to maintain those connections he’d forged with his sisters even as their lives moved on. And then he vowed, under those same stars that had been silent witnesses to the anger and anguish of his younger years, to always appreciate what was most important in life.
I haven’t forgotten a thing I learned from you.
* * *
The birthday party had gone well, Sloane thought, as she gathered torn wrapping paper and the remnants of the delicious strawberry shortcake cupcakes. The guests continued to enjoy themselves and the satisfied glow from that warmed the coldness in her belly that had settled in when she walked out of Eli’s house the day before.
She’d billed the move to Alice and Joe’s as a pre-birthday treat for Paige and her daughter had accepted it easily enough. Excitement over the party had done the rest. Sloane didn’t even think the little girl understood yet that Eli was missing from their life. When his sisters, Lynnie and Molly, had arrived on scene, Sloane hadn’t witnessed the birthday girl asking about him anyway.
For herself, she’d been using her hostess duties as a reason to keep her distance from the pair, other than a smile and a wave. She’d exchanged friendly conversation with Rona and her husband, and the subject of Paige’s grandparents had been avoided on both sides.
The grassy park bordered the beach and ocean and Sloane had reserved a collection of picnic tables under an open-sided, metal-roofed shelter. Parents of the little ones invited had showed up late morning with scooters and trikes to take advantage of the cement pathways and some of their group had even walked their kids to the surf to ankle-wade in the chilly Pacific.
She leaned down to pick up a paper-wrapped candy that had escaped the piñata, then jerked sharply upright at an exuberant shriek. Her gaze found Paige, who was running full-tilt toward the tall figure of a man strolling over the grass in their direction.
As she watched, her daughter shouted, “E!” and launched herself into Eli’s arms.
For a moment, Sloane froze, then she forced herself to move, knowing she needed to intervene, if only to save her child from strengthening an ill-fated attachment. Moving forward felt like walking through a sea of the icing that had tasted so delicious on the birthday treats. It slowed her footsteps and weighed her entire body down, but she slogged on all the same, even as her eyes met Eli’s.
In that instant, a change transformed his face.
A moment before he’d been focused on Paige, smiling, those gold flecks she’d noticed in his eyes sparkling. But now, his expression sobered, his lips no longer turned upward, but set in a serious line. His intense stare sent a shiver over her skin.
As she approached speaking distance, she found her pulse racing even as her pace slowed. Finally, she came to a halt in front of him and drank in the sight of the man—boots, jeans, T-shirt, flannel. Handsome features, and that hair she suspected he’d never admit he’d started wearing long expressly because his household of girls enjoying playing beauty salon. Lynnie and Molly had told her that ages ago, when Sloane was still mooning at him through her windows whenever she got the chance, her crush in the seedling stage.
What a shallow emotion it was compared to that deep well he’d carved in her heart now.
“Eli—”
“Sloane—”
They both spoke at once.
Not trusting her suddenly rusty voice, she gestured him to go ahead.
He stared at her another long minute. “Sloane, you look…” He laughed a little, the sound rough. Then he shook his head, the gesture rueful. “Right. You look right.”
“Oh.” Without knowing what to make of that, she took a small step forward. “Let me take Paige.”
“No.” He drew the little girl closer to his chest. “She feels exactly right too—just where she is.”
“Oh,” Sloane said again, nonplused.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get it before,” Eli said. “I didn’t get it until just now, as you were walking to me while I had Paige in my arms.”
She swallowed. “Get what?”
His gaze didn’t leave hers. “I’m in love with you, Sloane.”
Suddenly unbalanced, she stumbled back, trying to find stability in a world suddenly rocking.
“I think it happened that night during the storm, when you knocked on the front door and I opened it to find all of you drenched and shivering. You walked into my house and you walked into my heart.” With Paige hitched on his hip, one arm providing a sturdy seat for her behind, he had a free hand that he scrubbed over his face. “I’ve fallen in love,” he said, a note of wonder in his voice.
Then he laughed again. “Much better than an excellent turf builder.”
“What?
”
He laughed some more. “Can I explain later? After I say or do whatever it will take to get you over here next to me?”
Sloane was having a hard time breathing. And believing. “Why would you fall in love with the last person you should want?”
“Because I need rescuing,” he said without hesitation. “You and Paige are going to rescue me from something that’s all wrong for me.”
Those sounded like magic words, but she’d not gotten this far in a life that too often presented obstacles to throw caution to the wind now. “What’s that mean exactly?”
“I thought I wanted simplicity. A stress-free life.” Eli shrugged. “But it turns out I’m a family man…to the bone. It took only a few hours in a silent house for me to realize I’m happiest smack-dab in the middle of chaos and laughter and, most of all, love.”
Oh, wow.
In the distance, someone shouted Paige’s name and the little girl wiggled in Eli’s grasp. He set her down and she ran off. Over her shoulder, Sloane saw the man’s twin sisters each take one of her daughter’s hands. They were smiling, bright as the sun beaming down like a benediction.
Like a blessing she’d only felt once before, on the day that Paige was born.
“Eli,” she said. He loved her? “Can…can this be true?”
He held out his arms. “Come here and find out.”
Sloane did, taking a chance that suddenly didn’t feel like a chance at all. As Eli had said, it just felt…right.
His embrace was warm, his kiss deep, the unspoken words traded between them filled her soul. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “Anything else concerning you?”
Her lips twitched. “What about Baby Sally? She comes with the package.”
“I told you, I’m over my fear.”
“Liar.”
He smiled, and touched his forehead to hers. “No. And maybe there’ll be other babies someday.”
The final gate of her heart opened, and the very last vestiges of caution and fear poured out. Closing her eyes, she buried her face in his chest. Eli allowed that for a few moments, then he slipped a finger under her chin to bring her gaze back to his.
NO LIMIT (7-Stud Club Book 2) Page 20
