by J. Kenner
Moreover, the agents we’re working with were impressed enough with the job we did that I expect we’ll be getting some referrals for both on and off-book jobs.
All of which is great.
And which begs the question of why I’ve been in such a pissy mood for the last week. Except, of course, I know why. It’s because Kerrie flew to LA eight days ago to find an apartment, and the cold hard reality of her move is hitting me for the first time.
I don’t want her to go. But I can’t ask her to stay. Not unless I’m going to take our relationship further, and I can’t do that. Nothing has changed. I wanted her before; I want her still. I was older than her before; I’m older still.
I know the downside of that kind of age difference, and not one goddamn thing has changed. Nothing, that is, except this pit of loss and longing that’s growing in my gut. But that’s selfish. And where Kerrie is concerned I can’t be selfish. I have to think about what’s best for her.
“You really think you’re doing this for her?” Cayden asks me when he finally calls me out on being a moribund ass who’s dragging down the mood of everyone around me.
“I know I am. Do you think I’d let her out of my sight if I wasn’t positive?”
“Doing the right thing shouldn’t make you so miserable,” he says. “Maybe you need to take another look at the evidence. Maybe what you think is right is all fucked up.”
“It’s not.” I’m nothing if not firm in my resolve.
“You really think you’re doing this for her?” he asks again. This time, I don’t bother answering.
He sighs. “So, what? That means there’s someone else out there for you, too? Someone who fits you better than Kerrie? Because I’ve seen the two of you together, and you guys click.”
We do. We really do.
“That’s not the point,” I tell him. “You know why we can’t be together. I can’t do that to her even if I love her. We’re star-crossed.”
“That is such bullshit.” We’re in my living room, and he’s pacing in front of the window, a glorious panorama spread out behind him.
“How can you say that? You were there when Grandpa went downhill. You saw how much Gran gave up.”
“You saw that,” Cayden retorts. “You remembered how active Grandpa was and how much fun you two used to have throwing a ball around while I was off doing martial arts.”
It’s true. Cayden loved Grandpa, but I was the one who really spent time with him.
“You missed him and hated seeing him forced into bed after being so vibrant. And so you assumed that Gran was as laid flat by his decline as you were.”
“Of course she was. The man had a heart attack. He was bedridden for years. How could you not see that?”
“I did,” Cayden assures me. “I also saw a woman who loved her husband. Who read to him and laughed with him. Who watched movies and shared her life. I saw love, Connor. Do you think the fact that she couldn’t hop on a plane and pop over to Rome changed that? For that matter, he never stopped her. She could have gone. She chose not to. She chose him. Because she loved him.”
I say nothing.
He exhales, clearly frustrated. For a minute, I think he’s done haranguing me. Then he narrows his eyes, studying me.
“What?”
“If I asked Kerrie if she thought there was someone out in the world better for you than her, what do you think she’d say?”
I scowl, but I also answer honestly. “She’d say no. But she’s not thinking clearly.”
“What gives you the right to decide for her?”
“Because I don’t want her to be miserable.”
He rubs his temples. “I love you, bro. But you know you’re an idiot, right?”
“Dammit, Cay—”
“Should I sell my shares of Microsoft?” he blurts.
“What?” I’m completely baffled.
“How about Facebook? What should I buy this year if I want to grow my savings by 150% in the next nine months?”
“Have you gone completely insane? What the hell are you talking about? How should I know what to do with your portfolio?”
“Oh, sorry.” He flashes me a smug grin. “I thought you could see the future.”
“It’s not the same.”
“Yeah,” he says simply as he heads for my door. “It really is.”
He leaves me alone, and though I know I should get up and do something—anything—all I can manage is to sit in my favorite chair and stare out at my view, watching as the sun sinks lower and lower in the sky.
A thousand thoughts race through my mind, but I can’t wrap my head around any particular one. All I know is that I’m miserable. And that I love Kerrie. And that suddenly my phone is in my hand, and I’m dialing her number even though I have no idea what I’m going to say.
She answers on the first ring, her voice like a balm. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.”
“I like the sound of that. Where are you?”
“I just got back in town.”
“How was Los Angeles? Did you have fun?” I clutch my phone tighter. I really hope she hated it.
“I did. I think I’ll like it out there. And Del and I have always gotten along fabulously, so work should be good.”
I have to clear my throat before I can speak. “That’s great,” I finally manage to say, but my voice is flat. I can’t conjure even an ounce of enthusiasm.
There’s a pause. Then her voice comes across the line, soft and tentative. “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Just tired. The Feds. Work. Lots of stuff going on.”
“Oh.”
“You know what?” I blurt out before I even have time to think about my words. “Fuck that. I’m not tired and it’s not work.” The words flow like water, coming unbidden and unedited. But I don’t want to stop them. They feel right. Like I’ve finally gotten out of my own way.
“Oh,” she says again, but this time the word doesn’t sound flat. It sounds hopeful.
“Don’t go.” I pour my heart and soul into those two words. “I know Del will be disappointed, and I know that LA might be fun, but we need you here. Who else is going to run the office? And keep us all in line?”
“Connor, please.” Her voice is heavy. The sweet lilt fading.
I barrel on. “But that’s only part of it. I need you. Hell, Kerrie, I love you.”
Silence.
“Kerrie?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’ve been an idiot. I’m saying I don’t want to live without you.” The words rush out of my heart and past my lips. “I’m saying that if you don’t care about the years between us, then neither do I. What the hell is a number anyway? I was never good at math.”
She laughs, the sound strangled, as if she’s holding back tears.
“Kerrie? I know my timing sucks and Del will probably hate me. But please stay.”
Again, there’s silence. Except for a soft sound that might be crying.
“Kerrie? Baby, say something please.”
“I love you, too,” she whispers, her words melting my heart. “Now get your ass over here and kiss me.”
Chapter Fifteen
I’m out the door in minutes, hauling ass toward her place. Now that I’ve made my decision—now that I’ve gotten my head out of my ass—I’m all in. Kerrie is mine, dammit, and we’re moving forward together.
And as far as I’m concerned, together needs to start as soon as humanly possible.
It’s not that far mileage-wise to her South Austin house from downtown, but traffic is a bitch in this town, and on top of that, I seem to hit every red light along the way.
I’m cursing Austin, city planners, and cars in general when my phone rings. I hit the button on my in-dash display to take it on speaker, assuming it’s Kerrie.
It’s not.
“Where are you?” Cayden asks, his voice tight.
“Heading to Kerrie’s,” I tell him. “I owe you a thanks. You were right
. I’ve been an idiot. I’m—”
“Shut up and listen,” he says. “I just sent you a text. Have you seen this?”
“I’m driving, remember?”
“It’s important.”
“Fuck.” Since I’m at one of the damn red lights, I glance down at my phone, see that he’s texted me an image, and push the button to transfer the picture to my console screen.
“Kerrie and Del,” I say, glancing at the image of my girlfriend and her sister-in-law. “Not a bad picture.” They’re by the ocean, but traffic is moving again, so I take my eyes off the screen and continue down South First Street.
“Del sent it out over her Instagram feed,” he says. “Some entertainment news agencies picked it up.”
“This is all fascinating. Why do I care?”
“Because this is what she wrote.” He starts to read. “So excited that my sister-in-law, Kerrie Blackwell, will be joining Team Delilah soon as my executive assistant, which pretty much means she’ll be the boss of me. I’m so excited and can’t wait for her to finish packing up her Austin house and move out here. And in case she looks familiar, Kerrie has been working for Blackwell-Lyon for years. That’s the security company that helped me out a few years ago in Austin. So she’s a tough cookie. Plus, her brother is the best. He’d have to be to be married to my sister. I’m so thrilled. Love you, K, and see you soon.”
He stops reading and for a second there’s silence. Honestly, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.
And then it hits me.
“The story was picked up?”
“Afraid so,” my brother says.
“Where’s Rollins?”
“The FBI went to pick him up, but he’s bolted.”
“Amy?”
“She’s safe,” Cayden says. “And when she poked around on his computer, she saw the picture. He’s on his way to Austin. I’m certain of it.”
“Fuck. Where are you? Where’s Pierce? Leo?”
“Same as you. We’re all heading to Kerrie’s.”
“You warned her?”
“Her phone’s going straight to voicemail.”
I bite back another curse. Hopefully she’s just in the shower, and Rollins is still miles away. But I have a bad feeling.
“See you there.”
I run the next three lights, pissing off the other drivers but not causing an accident, and when I screech to a halt in front of Kerrie’s house, I’m relieved to see that there’s no other car around. Pierce arrives only moments after me, looking as scared as I feel. I get it. She’s my girlfriend, but she’s his little sister. “She’ll be fine,” I say. Any other outcome is unacceptable.
“Any sign of Rollins?”
I shake my head. “I’m going in.”
“I’m going around back,” Pierce says. “Just in case.”
I nod, then head to the front door. It’s unlocked, which isn’t a good sign, but when I step inside, my gun at the ready, Kerrie is alone.
“Thank God,” I say, hurrying to her side as her eyes go wide. “Rollins—”
“—is very happy you’re here.” The voice is familiar, and I turn in time to see him emerge from the kitchen, his own weapon aimed at Kerrie. “You’re just in time to watch her die.”
I react without thinking, launching myself at her and knocking her to the ground just a split second before he fires. I hear the sharp report of the gun, then feel the burning impact in my leg. I smell gunpowder and blood, and I hear Kerrie’s scream.
But I’m alive. For the moment. And so is Kerrie.
“Nobody screws me,” Rollins growls, his voice seeming to come from underwater. I try to move, but it’s not possible. But in my periphery, I can see him coming toward us, gun outstretched. I try to cover Kerrie, but I can’t manage it. And then he raises his gun, and all I can think is that I can’t let her die. But there’s not a goddamn thing I can do except pray.
And then there’s a loud crack and he flinches. Red blooms on his chest and he falls backward.
I hear Kerrie scream Pierce’s name at the same time I see my friend burst in through the back door.
Everything blurs as a fresh wave of pain envelops me, but in the rising gray, I see Pierce take off his belt and tighten it around my leg. I hear the word thigh. I hear a siren.
Most of all, I hear Kerrie’s voice telling me to stay with her.
“I love you,” I whisper.
And as the world starts to turn gray, I see the fear on her face. I try to tell her it will be fine. No way am I leaving her now that we’re together again. But somehow I can’t make the words come.
That’s okay, though. I know this isn’t the end. On the contrary, it’s just the beginning.
Because I’m not going anywhere. Not even if I end up an old man with only one leg. No way am I pushing her away.
Not ever again.
Epilogue
Two months later
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Kerrie … Happy birthday to you!”
The horribly out of tune birthday serenade ends as I stand behind Kerrie, leaning on my cane as she makes a wish and blows out the candles. The cake is still in the nine-by-thirteen inch pan. A Betty Crocker yellow cake with Betty Crocker chocolate frosting. I made it myself, although according to Del I can’t really say that I made it since it wasn’t from scratch.
“You combined it,” she’d insisted this morning when she stepped in as my much-needed kitchen assistant. Only slightly younger than Kerrie, Delilah has the bearing and sophistication of someone who’s grown up in the public eye. “And you baked it,” she added. “But you didn’t make it.”
She’d shrugged philosophically. “But you still get credit for effort.”
After the drama with Rollins—who died in the hospital after falling into a coma—Kerrie had given Del her regrets, electing to stay in Austin as our office manager. And my girlfriend. As of today, we’ve been living together for seven weeks and five days.
Today, I’m hoping to lock her in for a bit longer. Like, say, a lifetime.
And I’m as nervous as a cat at a dog show.
As soon as the candles wink out, Kerrie beams first at me, and then at the family and friends gathered around us. Del, Cayden, Gracie, Jez, Pierce, and Leo. Not to mention Amy, Noah Carter and his wife Kiki, and at least a dozen more friends that Pierce and I knew she’d want to celebrate this day with.
At least, I hope that’s the case.
“Can I cut the cake now?” She directs the question at me, and I nod. Then immediately hold up my hand and tell her to wait.
“Champagne,” I say, then lean my cane against the table as I limp toward the refrigerator. I should only need it for another month or two—the bullet did a number on my leg, but it’s healing nicely—but in the meantime, Kerrie amuses herself by remarking what an old man I am every time I pass by.
I retaliate by threatening to withhold sex. At which point she has nothing but good things to say about my youth and prowess.
I return from the fridge with the champagne, which I open with a loud pop, followed by universal applause. Gracie passes around plastic flutes, and I pour for everyone.
“Fancy,” Kerrie says with a grin. “Usually chocolate cake calls for cold milk.”
“My girl deserves champagne,” I say, moving beside her and kissing her head. I meet Del’s eyes and find her grinning.
As for me, my stomach is in knots.
Kerrie seems entirely oblivious.
“Shall I just slice anywhere?” she asks. The cake is decorated with the words Happy Birthday over the number 26. Beneath the number is a little candy heart.
“That’s your birthday girl slice,” I say, pointing to the heart. “Cut a slice around that.”
I hold my breath as she does, then slides it neatly out and puts it on her plate.
She starts to cut another slice, but I stop her. “Go ahead and see if you like it.”
She frowns, looking around at the
group. “I thought you were supposed to pass it around first.”
I shake my head, looking at Del and Pierce for confirmation.
“He’s right,” Del says. “The birthday girl takes her wish-bite, then serves everyone else.”
I watch as Kerrie looks at her brother, obviously confused. Pierce just shrugs. “I don’t know the rules, and they sound pretty convinced.”
“Family tradition,” I say.
“Whatever.” She takes her fork and starts to dig in, only to be stymied by something hard. “What the—”
I watch her face, seeing the exact moment when she realizes something is hidden in the cake. And then I see it go completely blank as she excavates the small metal box.
My stomach twists, suddenly fearful, because why isn’t she smiling?
Then she opens the box, and I watch as joy floods her face, the emotion so palpable it makes me weak at the knees.
She looks at me, her lips moving, but she can’t seem to form words.
I take the ring from her hand, then hold it out. A silent request for her ring finger.
When she extends her hand, I slip it on. The room is hushed, the silence rich with anticipation. “Yesterday we were fifteen years apart,” I say. “But now it’s only fourteen. So I had to pick today to ask you, Kerrie Blackwell, if you’ll be my wife.”
Tears trail down her cheeks as she nods. “Yes.” Her voice is thick, and she tries again. “Oh, yes.”
“I love you, Kay,” I say as she launches herself into my arms.
“Love you, too, Old Man,” she replies, then kisses me hard as our friends and family laugh and cheer, and I hold her tight, knowing that we’re going to face our future together.
Want more?
Keep reading for a peek at Leo in Tempting Little Tease!
If you enjoyed the men of Blackwell-Lyon Security, be sure to check out my Man of the Month series, starting with Down On Me ! (Keep flipping pages for an excerpt!)
