Sins of the Father

by Winter Austin

  “I only came to see if I wanted to cash in on my dual citizenship.”

  “I call bullshit,” Nic snapped. “You joined our Marine Corps for a reason. You knew he was a career man, knew he would still be in, and that was your first place to go looking for him. And if I’m smelling you right, you loved being a marine—like father, like son. The only problem was that IED waylaid your plans.”

  Xavier crossed his arms. She was treading too close to the fire.

  “Look, we get it. The General has done us wrong, me more than Cassy, but we’re getting past it. And the crooked old bastard has mellowed with age. I don’t know what went down with him and your mother or why he never knew about you, but we can’t hold the sins of the past against someone, especially when they were clueless about them.”

  Cassy nodded in agreement.

  Running a hand through his hair, Xavier turned his back on them and moved toward the kitchen—and escape. Was he truly holding his mum’s lies against a man who had never been told about his son? Yes, he’d been pissed when she finally revealed that the man he’d called father was not his father, but as angry as Xavier had been with her, he still loved her. He came to a halt inches from the door and, thus, freedom from the Rivers sisters’ scrutiny.

  William Rivers didn’t deserve Xavier’s judgment. No one did.

  Slowly, he turned back to the women. They waited; for what, he had no clue. Because, honestly, he wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed from here.

  “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

  An odd, sweet smile from Nic gave Xavier’s gut a painful twist.

  Cassy scooted to the edge of her seat and hauled her pregnant body upright. “Baby steps.” She placed her hands on her back and arched it. “Pop wants to meet you at a personal level, but he’s willing to do it at your pace. Having said that, we need to resolve the issue of that black cloud hanging over your head.”

  “I believe Deputy Murdoch is working on trying to clear me.”

  A knowing gleam passed through Cassy’s blue eyes, and a hint of a smile hovered at the corners of her mouth. “Deputy Murdoch, huh?”

  “Stop playing matchmaker,” Nic grumbled and stood. “We need to go. Honor’s going to be screaming for supper soon.” She paused at the door and looked back at Xavier. “Funny. I always wanted a brother. Now I don’t know what to do with the knowledge that I have one.”

  “I can’t say the same,” Xavier replied, “since I’ve got a sister and a brother.”

  “Shit, that hellcat in the kitchen is part of the family, too.”

  Cassy groaned. “Oh, yay, another Nic in the family.” She added a wink.

  “Can it.” Nic disappeared through the door.

  Looking back, Cassy gazed at Xavier. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it’ll get better. I promise. But please reconsider going back to Australia any time soon.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “All I can ask for.” With that, she followed her sister, closing the door with a soft click.

  Behind him, the kitchen door creaked on aged hinges, and Ariel’s presence surrounded him. “Do you think you’ll go through with meeting the bloke?”

  He turned to her. Her bright eyes peered up at him through her curtain of black hair. She was the perfect copy of Mum, and his heart ached. He wanted to see her, his mother. Give her another chance to explain her reasons for leaving William Rivers in the dark about him, and to apologize to her for being such an ass.

  “I don’t know yet,” he said, and entered the kitchen.

  The walking taco he’d eaten at the fair hadn’t lasted long enough. He went straight to the fridge for his go-to snack, Vegemite with crackers.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Ariel asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’ve got to make a fair go of it.”

  • • •

  Out here on the rural side of McIntire County, darkness surrounded him on all sides. No street lights, no town noises, and no neighbors. Just the stars and the serenade of crickets. Comfort. Xavier sat in his truck halfway along the lane leading to Jolie’s house, staring at the lone light coming from a window on the right side of the house and feeling like a stalker.

  It was close to midnight, he couldn’t sleep, and he’d allowed the need to see her once more bring him out here. Yet he couldn’t muster the courage to finish the drive up the lane and knock on her door. If the light in her home was any indication, she wasn’t sleeping either. So why sit here? Why not get out and go up there?

  His questions drove him forward, and Xavier found himself starting the engine and letting the truck roll the rest of the way into the driveway, where he killed the engine. As he exited the cab, he spotted movement in the window. By the time he reached the front door, it popped open, and Jolie stepped onto the porch.

  He swallowed hard.

  She wore a pink tank top with no bra and a pair of pink shorts, her red hair hanging loose around her shoulders. His gaze roved south; her feet were bare, with dark polish on her nails. When his gaze roamed north, she’d crossed her arms over her chest, doing that thing that crowded her breasts and made them swell over her forearm. It turned him on, and it took a considerable amount of control not to yank her into his arms and prove to her how much.

  “Xavier, what are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  She frowned. “So you came here?”

  “Didn’t have anywhere better to go.” He inched closer, willing his hands to remain at his sides. “It looks like you’re having the same problem.”

  She glanced over her shoulder into her home. “I was going over what I learned from Dad and comparing it with what I have already. I need to talk with Sarah’s mom again.” Her breath hitched, and her arms slipped out of their crisscross. “Why can’t you sleep?”

  “Nic and Cassy were waiting for me when I got home.” The orange-and-jasmine scent tickled his nose and kicked up his heart rate. “We had a conversation that went nowhere, which left them asking me to reconsider leaving.”

  “It’s a start.” She looked up at him, exposing the satiny length of her neck. “This ... ” Her throat worked soundlessly, making his mouth salivate with the need to kiss it.

  “This what?” he asked in a husky voice.

  She lifted a trembling hand and pressed it over his heart, giving a little gasp when she could feel how hard it was pounding. The warmth of her hand fueled his desire. He clasped his hand over hers, drawing closer to her.

  “I ... ” Her fingers curled under his, pulling in a fistful of his T-shirt.

  The possessive nature of her hold was doing wild things to him. With his free hand, he cupped the back of her neck, and he lowered his head until his lips brushed the tip of her ear. “You do things to me, love.”

  She turned her head into him, her cheek scraping against his scruff. “Xavier, what are we doing?”

  “I don’t know.” He pressed a kiss to her jaw. “I have no clue.” Another kiss on her cheek. “I just want to be with you.”

  “We shouldn’t,” she said breathlessly.

  With his forehead resting against hers, he gazed into her eyes. “Why shouldn’t we?”

  She blinked. “I … can’t ... ”

  “Neither can I.” He claimed her mouth.

  A sharp intake of breath was her response to the possessiveness of his kiss. She untangled her hand from his and hooked her arms around his neck. With a grunt, and without breaking contact with her lips, he lifted her in his arms, carrying her inside her home. He felt one of her hands lift from his shoulder, and a second later the door clapped shut.

  Jolie withdrew, her chest heaving, pressing her breasts into his chest. “If we do this, there’s no going back.”

  “There was no going back from the first time we kissed.”

  She hooked her legs around his waist and flexed. Another groan escaped his lips at the feel of her body rubbing against him. A sexy smile drew up the corner of her mouth.


  “You’re killing me,” he said.

  Cradling his face in her hands, she studied him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  The fear of showing her what lay hidden beneath his clothing had been part of the reason he’d frozen halfway up the lane. But now that he had passed the point of no return, the fear was gone, and the need to let her see him—all of him—gave him the strength. Setting her down on her feet, he gripped the hem of his shirt and, in one swift motion before he changed his mind, removed it. Lowering his arms, he let the T-shirt dangle from his fingers.

  Jolie didn’t gasp in horror or recoil. She stared at the damage inflicted upon his body then raised her hand. He sucked in a breath as her fingertips danced over his chest, tracing the intricate lines of the tattoo that covered most of the right side of his torso, disguising the shrapnel and surgical scars.

  “It’s not as bad as I thought,” she whispered, letting her hand trail further down his torso.

  “The tat covers a lot.”

  Her gaze flicked up. “Whatever lie you tell yourself about not being whole or good enough is just that, Xavier. A lie. You fought in a war you had no reason to be a part of.” Her arm slipped around his waist, and she stepped in closer, pressing her tiny frame to his. “In my book, that makes you more than a man.”

  “You know all that just by seeing my war wounds?” He combed her hair, relishing the silk slipping between his fingers.

  Reaching up, she gripped his wrist, stilling his movements. “I know that by seeing your character. It’s why I believe you had nothing to do with Clint’s death.”

  “You have too much faith in me, Jolie.”

  “Someone has to, because you’ve given up.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not the same woman who caught me in the park a few days ago. What’s happened to you?”

  Stepping up on the toes of his boots, she raised up on her tiptoes, putting her mouth inches from his. “You happened to me, Xavier. And I like the new me.”

  His mouth curved up. “I like the new you, too.”

  “Kiss me,” she whispered, “and don’t stop.”

  He obliged. For the rest of the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Warmth pressed against her back. The feel of a hard body made her shiver. Jolie awoke in the comfort and safety of Xavier’s arms. Smiling, she lay there, matching the rise and fall of his chest and listening to him snore lightly, as the world pulled itself from slumber. She’d never forget last night, and if Xavier was cleared from any wrongdoing and stayed here in Eider, there could be more like it.

  In the course of a few short days, he’d weaseled his way into her life. And, frankly, if he had killed Clint and went to prison for it, she didn’t know how she’d get on without him.

  His arms flexed and tightened, and Jolie found herself being pulled flush to him. He nuzzled the back of her neck, raising the hairs and sending desire spiraling through her.

  Screw the future. She was going to take in every moment she could.

  “G’mornin’ love,” he rumbled in her ear.

  Hot fudge on a spoon. Oh, how she loved that sound. She wiggled against him, relishing in the low moan that accompanied the thrust of his hips into her rear. Arousal burned hot.

  “Easy,” he whispered, “or we’ll never leave this bed.”

  “Maybe that’s what I want.”

  Rising up on his elbow, he pressed her back into the bed then bent over to claim her lips. He stole her breath, stole her soul, and then branded her with a rumbled “mine,” as he made love to her once more.

  She dozed in his arms, waking to the sound of her alarm going off. With a groan of disgust, Xavier rolled away, taking her pillow with him to cover his head. Jolie crawled over his hulking body to turn off the alarm and lay draped over him as his hand slid up and down her bare thigh.

  “Don’t leave,” he said from under the pillow.

  “I have to. Work calls.”

  “Go in late then.” His hand stopped, fingertips grazing her rear. “There’s no rush.”

  Fighting the returning pleasure, Jolie lifted the pillow and met his heated gaze. “Tonight. I promise.”

  “Not soon enough.” His fingers found a new spot to drive her wild. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  “Xavier,” she moaned.

  Apparently that was incentive enough for him to press the matter. He dragged her up on top of him and drove her out of her mind, again.

  Moments later, she lay tucked against his side, her face buried in the crook of his neck. “I hope you’re satisfied now.” She nipped his neck.

  He chuckled, kissing her forehead. “Can’t help myself. Lots of time to make up for.”

  Propping herself up on an elbow, she said, “I find it hard to believe, good lookin’ as you are, that you’ve been holding back this long.”

  “Believe me, after this happened”—he tapped his right thigh—“there was no desire to be with a woman.” He caressed her cheek. “Then again, maybe I was waiting for the right one.”

  Warmth crept into her face. As aggressive and studly as he was, Xavier had a gentle streak that gave her the fuzzies. Please don’t be setting me up for a fall. I won’t be able to handle watching you leave me.

  She glanced at her alarm clock and groaned at the time. “I’ve got to go. Hamilton will probably rip me a new one for being late.” She wiggled out of Xavier’s hold.

  “I doubt that. Just tell him you were on a stakeout, making sure I was being a good boy.”

  She threw her shorts at him. “You were far, far from being a good boy.”

  Giving her a wink, Xavier rolled onto his stomach, baring his ass. That drool-worthy ass she’d only imagined seeing before now.

  “Would you stop it?” Jolie spun on her heel. “I’m going to work.” And no amount of enticement from him was going to stop her. His laughter followed her into the bathroom. Jolie basked in the sound of it. It was like a light bulb had been turned on, and he became a different man. Would it be enough to have him stand up and fight for his innocence or make him stay with her?

  She showered quickly and then slipped back into her room, finding it empty. As she pulled on a fresh uniform, the aroma of bacon reached her, calling her toward the kitchen. There she found Xavier, fully clothed and prosthetic on, turning crisping slices of bacon. On the counter next to him sat a pile of eggs waiting to be cooked.

  “Holy snikes, how many eggs do you eat?”

  He didn’t startle or whip around on her in a defensive stance, which meant he’d heard her coming.

  “I tend to eat a high-protein breakfast. I’ll get you another carton. In fact, you should probably reconsider store-bought eggs. There’s an Amish family that sells farm fresh—best eggs you can get.”

  “Oh.”

  He didn’t bother to hide his grin, only continued to cook.

  Jolie sidled up next to him and leaned against the counter between the stove and refrigerator. “You know, it’s sort of weird for me seeing a man cook.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “If you haven’t noticed, around here it’s the woman’s duty. If you do see a guy wielding a cooking utensil, it’s usually at the grill. My dad can’t even boil an egg, but he grills the best steaks.”

  “Some parts of Australia are the same, but my parents were pretty forward thinking and taught me early. Both Ariel and I did all the meals while we were at home. Ariel almost became a chef.”

  “Why didn’t she?”

  Xavier looked at her, sorrow dulling his hazel-gray eyes. “Because of me.” He sighed, refocusing on his task. “She’s a mental health counselor now.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

  “She did something for me, when ethically and legally she’s bound not to counsel me. She tries her damnedest to juggle it as a sister and a professional, but that line gets crossed and things get ugly.” Xavier moved the bacon to a plate covered with paper towels then cracked the eggs into the pan of ba
con grease. “Ariel likes her job, but I don’t know that she actually loves it, like she did cooking.”

  His description of Ariel’s situation mimicked Jolie’s. “She might surprise you.”

  He gave her a nonchalant shrug and kept on cooking. This peek into his life was a bit of a surprise but compelling. For a guy who’d kept his real identity a secret from his birth father and family as long as he had, it begged the question: what had Jolie done to crack him open? Yet, as much as she wanted to continue this line of conversation, she really needed to get going.

  “Could you make my eggs to go, like a breakfast sandwich?”

  “One short-order breakfast to go.”

  If he kept this up, she might not let him leave her home, much less the country. Her stomach quivered with that thought. Had she made a monumental mistake sleeping with him?

  Or had she just handed over her heart?

  • • •

  Munching on her breakfast, Jolie was doing her best not to dwell on her night with Xavier—whom she’d followed out of her drive a mere five minutes ago as he headed home—and instead refocus on what she’d learned from her father. No way had there been more to the case file on Grace, and it was equally unlikely someone had lifted those reports he claimed were in it. Who would’ve had access to the basement storage and known what Dad had put in the box? Very damned few, that’s who. Hamilton wasn’t around at the time, so he had no idea about it. Con wasn’t aware of those reports, as he told her last night while trying to calm his fussing daughter during Jolie’s call. As for the rest of the deputies, she and Jennings were teens when it happened, Nash was living in Des Moines, and the Rivers sisters weren’t even a blip on the McIntire County radar.

  The only person who knew about those reports and interviews was Dad. And as of late, Jolie was fairly certain her father hadn’t been as honest and straightforward as he led everyone to believe.