Hot SEAL, Charmed

by Parker Kincade

  Liam’s head started to pound. Their parents were good, hard-working people who didn’t deserve a little shit like Colin. His brother wouldn’t know a good life choice if it got shoved up his ass.

  “I’m praying the next words out of your mouth are that Colin took the fight outside when he left,” Liam said. Please let him be right.

  “You’re the lucky one in this family, unfortunately for Dad, because no. Colin didn’t take the fight outside.” Liam swore as Sasha went on. “More words were exchanged. When the girl tried to intervene, Colin shoved her. Of course, Colin says he was only trying to keep her out of harm’s way, but regardless, she caught her heel on something—no one knows what—and she tripped and fell. Busted her head open on the corner of a table.”

  “Motherfucker. Is the woman okay?” The bar had insurance, but a lawsuit could damage not only their reputation, but could potentially cost their parents everything.

  “She’s a total bitch, but yeah. She’ll be fine.”

  Liam’s stomach turned as the reality of the situation hit him head on. He’d been raised with the knowledge that his dad had started Tavern J to have something to share with his sons. Archaic thinking, perhaps, but that was the Boston Irish for you.

  Colin would never step up. His life was a constant fucking train wreck that meant he wasn’t capable of taking over the family business.

  Liam was going to have to do it.

  “Is she going to sue?” Liam asked, the words turning to chalk in his mouth. How was he going to maintain a relationship with Haven if he moved to fucking Boston? The answer was simple. He wasn’t. And he wouldn’t risk hurting Haven by even suggesting they try.

  “The threat has been made, but tempers were high last night. And I wish I could say that was the end of the story. It’s not. Once first blood was shed, and that blood belonged to a woman…? Well, apparently, Dad was serving a bar full of superheroes, because everyone wanted to avenge the little skank. Including her boyfriend, who was, by the way, the recipient of Colin’s first swing. And this is where the details get fuzzy, because what started as Colin trying to prove that he had the bigger dick turned into an all-out brawl.”

  “Jesus.” Liam shoved his hand through his hair. “How bad was it?”

  “Brawl, Liam. Come on, genius. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

  “Do you want me to fucking come home?”

  “The boyfriend was a cop.”

  Fuck, Colin. Liam was going to strangle that little prick. “I’ll be on the next flight out.”

  Haven had just finished making lunch when Liam came through the door behind her.

  “Oh,” she said, “I wasn’t sure when you’d be back so I made a sandwich. Would you like one?”

  The smile died on her lips as she turned and took him in. He appeared…disheveled. His hair looked as if he’d repeatedly run his fingers through it. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, revealing a T-shirt underneath. His eyes were sad, almost tortured at he stared at her from the doorway.

  “Liam? What’s the mat—” She caught the scent as she stepped in his direction. “What is…is that perfume?”

  He scrunched his nose, his chin dipping in a sharp nod.

  Haven curled her shoulders against the pain that sliced through her chest. Not again. She’d survived Craig because she hadn’t loved him, but she wouldn’t survive this. Not with Liam.

  Her gaze darted over him, connecting the dots. The hair, the shirt, the scent, the remorse on his face indicative of a man who knew he’d fucked up.

  Liam jerked the shirt off, dropping it on the porch as he came inside and closed the door behind him. He brought the neck of the T-shirt to his nose and with a curse, pulled it off and tossed it out the door, too.

  Haven hated the way her body responded to his naked chest. Her fingers twitched, itching to touch him. She longed to press her cheek to his warmth, to feel his heartbeat against her cheek.

  She wanted to deny what was right in front of her, but she’d ignored fewer signs from Craig, and he’d turned her into a fool. “So, the errand you had to run was a…what?” She searched for the right term. “A booty call?”

  “Not funny, Haven.”

  “No, Liam,” she said, trying not to cry. “It’s not funny at all.”

  His sigh filled the room with its weight. “We need to talk.”

  “You think?” Needing to move, to create some distance from him, Haven walked around to the bar side of the counter. She jerked out the stool and climbed on.

  “Hey. What’s with the attitude?” He sounded angry, which was another new experience for her. And that made her angry.

  Some perverted part of her wanted to poke and prod at his displeasure. Try it on for size. “Suppose I fucked you into the wee hours of the mornin’ then slipped out to run an errand only to return hours later smelling of cheap cologne. Wouldn’t you have an attitude about that?”

  He took a step toward her then seemed to think better of it and planted his feet. “What is it you think I’ve done, Haven?”

  “Nothing that’s any of my business.” Haven drew a circle on the countertop with her finger, trying to convince herself that was true. “We haven’t made any promises to each other. I knew what I was getting into when I had sex with you.”

  “And what was that?” he asked, his tone so calm, so suddenly void of emotion it scared her.

  She lifted a shoulder. “You don’t do relationships, Liam. Never have.” That much, she did know. “I guess I just assumed you wouldn’t be with anyone else while we were together.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Liam asked the ceiling. He cursed. “That’s your problem, Haven. You assume too much, even when you fucking know better. You were right about that last thing, though. I would never be with another woman while I was with you. You know me better than that, regardless of what’s going on in that head of yours right now. I’ll expect a full apology once you figure it out.”

  An uncomfortable silence—another first for them—filled the space between them.

  She wanted to believe him. She wanted to throw caution and her heart to the wind and not worry about the consequences. But her history with Craig, the perfume on the air, and Liam’s lack of an explanation affected her judgement, her ability to think clearly.

  Liam studied her, his mouth in a tight, mutinous line. Finally, he said, “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I have a plane to catch.”

  “Are you being shipped out?” So deeply ingrained was her concern for him, the question burst from her lips before she could stop it. And then she remembered his secret. Haven let the question stand just to see what he did with it.

  “I have to go to Boston.”

  He still wasn’t going to let her in. “Is everything okay?”

  “Normally, I’d say yes. That everything will be fine. Glass half full and all that.” He laughed without humor. “But right now, things are so far from fine, Haven, I don’t know my head from my ass.”

  Talk to me. “How long will you be gone?”

  “I don’t know. Couple of days, maybe longer.” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry to leave you here alone, but there’s nothing I can do. My family needs me, and I have to go.”

  She nodded, not sure what to say. She knew a wee bit about family obligations. “Is there anything I can do?”

  His expression softened the slightest bit. “No, but thank you. I’ll get it sorted.”

  Haven stayed in place as Liam went up the stairs. Tracing, tracing, tracing the same circle on the countertop. With each rotation, she rearranged the idealized version of their friendship that she’d carried for so long and turned it into something that felt a wee more real. Flawed. Penetrable. Vulnerable. Yet, still precious and worth protecting.

  She just didn’t know how. Not yet. She needed more time to think.

  Liam came back down a few minutes later. He’d changed his clothes and had a packed, oversized duffle bag slung over his shoulder. He dropped the bag by the door and walke
d over to her.

  He turned her stool and cupped her face. Haven closed her eyes as Liam’s lips brushed against hers, too soft. Too fleeting. Too final.

  He pulled away and walked to the door. He re-shouldered the bag and opened the door. He turned back before stepping over the threshold. “I left you a list of phone numbers on the table next to the bed. Reach out to the guys if you need anything, or even if you just want to hang out. They’ll come running.”

  As if she belonged to him.

  The profound gesture left an ache in her chest because she knew it would never be true. Not in the way she’d let herself believe whenever Liam touched her.

  “Make sure to tell the pilot to fly safely,” she said. “Precious cargo, and all that.” They were the words she gave him before every deployment. Every mission. Every time he stepped on a plane.

  “Haven, I…” His lips molded together as his gaze burned into her. “I’ll text you when I get there.” As he always did.

  At least, some things never changed.

  12

  Tavern J had seen better days.

  Liam arrived in Boston in time to do the initial walkthrough with the insurance company, alongside his dad. The extensive damage had forced them to close for at least a week while the cleanup commenced.

  Liam jumped into the task as he would any mission—with focus and stark determination. He worked from sun-up to well past sun-down, sleeping as little as his body would allow. The rigorous pace helped to keep his mind off what he’d left behind in California.

  He hadn’t reached out to Haven since his boots had hit the ground in Boston. Not unusual. He’d gone months without talking to her before. Apparently, those days were gone. After two measly days without contact, Liam felt her absence as though he were missing a limb.

  Her accusation before he’d left had gutted him, though he’d seen the writing on the wall when she’d tossed the scenario back in his face. He’d lose his fucking mind if the shoe were on the other foot and she’d walked in smelling like another man. Telling her that would’ve done more harm than good. Giving her hope where there was none seemed unnecessarily cruel, and he’d tear out his own heart before he hurt her that way.

  The real challenge would come when he returned to California in a few days. Being alone in his condo with her would be sheer torture, sharing his space and the bed he’d demanded she occupy. He didn’t have the strength to lay beside her and not make her his, over and over again. He couldn’t fucking do it.

  Liam heaved the remnants of a broken table over his head and tossed it into the dumpster he’d rented for the cleanup.

  He’d crossed the line with Haven, and he didn’t know how to go back. Didn’t know how to not want her.

  Losing her completely isn’t an option, so you damn well better figure it out.

  Liam opened the alleyway door and entered Tavern J through the back. The door opened into the kitchen. The kitchen had thankfully been spared. The space was pristine and quiet. No need for the kitchen staff with the bar closed. The kitchen manager had done an excellent job prepping the space for the shutdown. The row of fryers along the wall had been emptied and cleaned. The grill and flat tops had been scrubbed, and the stainless-steel worktables gleamed. All of the dishes were clean and stored properly. Liam didn’t think he’d ever seen the kitchen in better order.

  He wished he could say the same for the main bar area.

  Liam pushed through the connecting door from the kitchen to the bar area. Even after working in the mess for two days, the sight still quickened his blood.

  Liam had basically emptied the place out. Only two tables with no chairs between them had survived the fight. The wooden booths were sticky, but undamaged. All of the barstools had to be thrown away, and the mirrored wall behind the bar had been shattered, costing them the shelving and all the premium bottles of alcohol stored there as well.

  In the last two days, Liam had managed to get all the broken glass off the floor, and furniture removed. He’d hosed the bar down from floor to ceiling to remove the sticky traces of alcohol. He’d gone with his dad to pick out new light fixtures to replace the broken ones on the walls. Next up, spackle the holes.

  Liam reached for his tools as the front door swung open.

  “Bro!” Colin yelled. “What’s up, man? When did you get home?” Colin’s face bore the telltale signs of the fight. Split lip, black eye, swollen bruised jaw.

  Liam tossed the tub of spackle onto the bar. “Around the same time you were being released from jail.”

  Colin opened his arms as if to hug him.

  Liam shoved his palm against Colin’s chest, strong-arming him.

  “What the hell, bro?”

  Liam’s jaw tightened. “What are you doing here, Colin?”

  His brother’s gaze narrowed as he licked the cut on his lip. “I came to check things out.” Colin glanced around. “Damn, dude. It’s intense in here. Where’d all the furniture go?”

  “In the dumpster out back,” he bit out. “What the fuck were you thinking, Colin? Drinking behind the bar? Starting a fight in here?”

  “I see you’ve been talkin’ to Sasha. She needs to keep her nose in her own goddamned business and out of mine.”

  “When your dumbassery effects Tavern J, it becomes all our business. Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost to repair?”

  “When did you get so cranky?”

  Around the time he’d realized he couldn’t keep Haven. “Answer the fucking question.”

  “Are you trying to pin this on me? I didn’t do all of this. That’s on the people who jumped in the fight, not me. And besides, Dad has insurance. He’ll get a big, fat check, and everything will be fine.”

  Liam fisted his hands at his sides. Beating the shit out of Colin, while satisfying, wouldn’t send the right message. “Everything will not be fine,” Liam growled. “If you’d use that head of yours for anything other than a battering ram, you’d realize we have deductibles to pay. Premiums will go up, costing the bar more money each quarter. And what if that woman you hurt decides to sue the bar? Did you think about that?”

  “She got her free drinks and the thrill of having men fight over her. That little bitch ain’t gonna do nothin’ else.”

  Liam closed his eyes and counted to ten. “And her boyfriend? The cop you hit? What about that?”

  Colin shrugged. “Gotta get a lawyer before the court date. Which reminds me. Did Dad mention how long we’re gonna be closed? I have expenses to cover.”

  Un-fucking-believable. “You should’ve thought about that before you trashed the place. As for your expenses, you’ll have to figure something else out. You’re fired.”

  “You can’t fire me.”

  “Can and did. Now I have to finish cleaning up your fucking mess while you go do God knows what. Close the door on your way out.” Liam had just turned to grab the spackle when Colin shoved him.

  “Fuck you, Liam.”

  Liam spun, grabbing Colin’s wrist in a punishing grip. He twisted just enough to set Colin off balance then he leaned in. “You don’t want to put your hands on me again, you spoiled fucking punk. I’ll make what that cop gave you look like a walk in the park, you hear me?”

  Liam shoved Colin away.

  “Look at you, Mister High and Mighty,” Colin taunted. “You think just because you show up once in a while that gives you the right to tell the rest of us what to do? This place is just as much mine as it is yours.”

  Liam laughed. “If only that were true. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to be here to pick up your fucking slack. Maybe—”

  “What the ever-loving fuck is going on in here?”

  Liam and Colin both froze at their father’s booming voice. William Jamison stepped into the bar from the kitchen area. At six-feet-two, he wasn’t as tall as Liam, but the man took care of himself and cut an imposing figure.

  Colin’s expression turned instantly contrite. “Dad, I—”

  Their dad held
up a hand. “I’m not ready to deal with you, Colin. We’ll talk later. Right now, I want to have a word with your brother.”

  Suddenly feeling like a five-year-old about to be scolded, Liam took a deep breath and ignored the look of smug satisfaction on Colin’s face as he turned and stormed out the door without another word.

  Once Colin was gone, his dad turned to him. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

  Liam scrubbed a hand over his face. “Just typical Colin stuff.” He swiped the tub off the bar and prepared to start patching the drywall.

  “Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but what are you doing here, Liam?”

  “What do you mean? Sasha called and—”

  “Your brother was right about Sasha learning to mind her own business.”

  Liam narrowed his eyes. “How long were you standing there before you interrupted us?”

  “Long enough. And your sister needs to stick to mothering her own kids and let me worry about mine. And that goes for you, too.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Colin is not your responsibility, Liam. Whatever choices he makes are his own, and he will be the one to suffer the consequences.”

  Liam opened his arms. “Does it look like he’s the only one suffering the consequences here, Dad? What about you and mom? What about the employees who are off work right now?”

  His dad drew in a breath. “This is Boston. You think this is the first time we’ve had trouble?”

  “It’s the first time trouble has come from the inside.” Liam smeared mud over a smaller hole in the wall then smoothed it out.

  “Yes. And your mother and I will deal with Colin in a way that we see fit. That’s not your job.” His dad grabbed an extra set of tools and joined him at the damaged wall. “And while we’re on the subject, you don’t work here, so you can’t go around firing people.”