by Larissa Ione
Across the table, Ginny sighed and scooched out of the booth. “I have to go to the ladies’ room,” she said. “Again.”
Brit turned to Marcus. “Pregnancy is kicking her ass.”
“And my bladder.” Ginny headed toward the restrooms, and Marcus caught Logan watching the sway of her rear. When he realized he’d been caught, his flush was obvious even in the pub’s dim light.
Marcus would have given him a good ribbing if Brit hadn’t been there. Instead, he turned to her. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah.” Brit shifted, brushing her knee against his, and warmth spread up his body. Christ, when had she gotten so damned beautiful? He had to force himself not to stare like a lech. “She just has to pee a lot.”
Logan looked at Marcus over the rim of his glass. “What do you know about the situation with Ginny?”
Marcus jammed his hand through his hair. He needed a trim badly. When he left Storm, he’d had a buzz cut and an attitude to go with it. He’d chilled since then, and he had a messy mop to match.
Maybe that wasn’t so bad, though. Maybe he needed a reminder that he was a different person from the angry kid who left skid marks on Storm’s streets in his desperation to get out of town.
“I got an e-mail from Mallory,” he said. “She mentioned that Ginny and Jacob Salt got into a bad accident coming home from college for the summer, and he was killed, and Ginny just found out she’s pregnant with his kid. That’s fu––” He broke off, remembering Brit was there. “That’s messed up. How’s she doing?”
“Good. I mean, she’s healthy, and she’s starting to put her life back together.”
“And,” Brit said with a pointed look, “you’re a big part of that.”
Marcus glanced sharply over at Logan. He was dating Ginny? Jesus, Marcus hadn’t seen that coming. He didn’t know why he was so surprised, but maybe it was because he still thought of Logan as his high school partner in crime. The friend who swore he’d never settle down. Especially not with a “chick with baggage,” as he used to say.
Ginny came back, and this time when she sat down, she took Logan’s hand in hers. Logan started to say something, but the shrill ring of Marcus’s phone interrupted. “Go ahead,” Logan said, gesturing to the device.
Marcus checked his text messages, finding one from Ian, who wanted to make sure Marcus had arrived in Storm safely, and one from his mother.
“Hey,” he said as he tucked the phone into his pocket, “I gotta go. Mom said she’s home alone right now, and I kinda wanted to catch her without my sisters seeing me yet. Can we finish this later?”
“You bet.”
They all stood, and Logan gave him a big bear hug. “I’m glad you’re back. Between the two of us, this town won’t know what hit it.”
Marcus had no doubt about that. The question was whether or not it would be a good thing...or a bad one.
Chapter Two
Brittany Rush hadn’t felt this alive in longer than she could remember.
Marcus was home.
She’d grinned like an idiot on the drive to the Salt’s place to drop off Ginny—who had also been all smiles, thanks to the developing relationship with Logan. Brit was so happy for her. Ginny had been through hell recently, and things were only going to get harder once the baby came. Having a strong shoulder to lean on would be a blessing.
She just hoped Logan was truly up to the task.
Not that Logan wasn’t a great guy. He was. But he probably had his own baggage to deal with after his time in the military, and he’d be taking on a lot more with a pregnant girlfriend and Jacob’s ghost.
She pulled her car into the driveway and parked behind her mother’s vehicle. Inside the house, she was surprised to find her mother and grandmother at the dining room table, chatting over a pile of papers. It was kind of late to be working.
“You two look busy,” she said as she tossed her purse to the sofa. “What are you doing?”
Her mother, Payton, looked up, her blue eyes slightly bloodshot, which was rare, because she usually kept a bottle of eye drops nearby to prevent that. Our family is always in the spotlight, so we must keep up appearances.
Yes, it just wouldn’t do for anyone in a senator’s family to appear disheveled.
“We lost track of time working on Founders’ Day plans,” Payton said, “but we’re almost finished for the night.”
Brittany grabbed a bottle of Perrier from the fridge. “You’re never going to believe who’s back in town.”
Her grandmother, Marylee, sipped from her glass of red wine and didn’t even leave a lipstick mark. “Who would that be, dear?”
“Marcus Alvarez.” Brittany’s stomach fluttered at the mere mention of his name.
“Marcus?” Payton reached for her own wine glass. “He’s been gone for years.”
Marylee’s expression pinched in distaste. “Rumor has it he’s been in prison all this time.”
Prison? That was ridiculous. There was no way Dakota could keep something like that a secret. Could she? “Of course he hasn’t.”
“Are you certain about that?” Marylee asked, hurling the question at Brittany like a challenge. She hated when anyone disagreed with her. “He was little more than a thug.”
A thug? Brittany twisted the cap off her sparkling water with a little more force than was needed. “He didn’t get into trouble more than any other teenager.”
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Marcus had been suspended a couple of times for fighting, picked up by the police for breaking curfew, and once, he and Brendan Gates had been busted for smoking a joint behind the gym.
Brendan had eventually ended up in jail for breaking and entering, DUI, and possession of a controlled substance, and last Brittany heard, he was due for parole next month. But Marcus had eventually made an honest effort to get past the teenage rebel years. At least, until he’d hightailed it out of town with no explanation and no good-byes.
“You were never in trouble, and neither was Jeffry,” her mother pointed out.
Brittany rolled her eyes. No, she’d never been in trouble, but that was only because she hadn’t been caught. She’d gone to parties, skipped classes, had snuck out of the house to go to concerts like everyone else, and only by sheer luck had she come out of her teenaged years unscathed by scandal.
Thank God. Her parents wouldn’t have hesitated to ship her off to boarding school.
“Just stay away from him, Brittany.” Marylee shook her head sadly, as if she was discussing a great historical tragedy. “That family is nothing but trouble.”
Brittany’s grandmother seemed to think that any family that didn’t come from money was nothing but trouble. “How can you say that? His mother is working for you.”
“She married into the family,” Marylee pointed out. “She doesn’t have Alvarez blood running through her veins. But Marcus is Hector’s son. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s a violent alcoholic just like his father.” She gathered up some of the papers on the table. “Mark my words. It won’t be long before we see his name in the police blotter.”
Brit was definitely going to keep the fact that he’d gotten into a scuffle within minutes of arriving in town to herself.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and then her father, Sebastian, strode into the kitchen, his gym clothes damp and his forehead glistening with perspiration. He often complained about not having time to work out in their home gym, but he seemed to be doing it a lot lately.
He made a beeline for the fridge. “Did I hear something about a police blotter?”
Brittany bit back a groan at the sudden, catty twinkle in her grandmother’s eyes. She loved gossip and speculation. “Brittany was just saying that Marcus Alvarez is back in town.”
Sebastian snorted as he plucked a Gatorade off the shelf. “We finally got rid of one Alvarez, and now we have a replacement. Nothing good can come of that.”
“You’re being unfair,” Brittany said. “Marcus isn’t anything like his father.
”
“Time will tell,” Payton said quietly, the way she always spoke when trying to de-escalate a situation before it turned into an argument. “There’s no point in speculating. But honey, do be careful.”
Brittany sighed. “It’s not like I announced that we’re getting married or anything. All I did was mention that he’s back in town.”
Marylee came to her feet in a graceful surge. “Of course, Brittany. We all know you’re too smart to get involved with someone like that.”
Someone like that? Anger burned in her chest and she wanted so badly to lash out, but then her father pointed out some stupid error on one of the flyer designs for the Founders’ Day event, and Marcus was forgotten by everyone but Brittany.
No, she was not going to forget the tall, dark-haired man with a deep, golden tan that defined every ropey muscle. He might have been a teen crush for her, but seeing him this evening had brought all those feelings back, and this time, age wasn’t an issue, and neither was her shyness.
This time, nothing was going to get in the way of her attraction to Marcus Alvarez.
Not even her family.
Chapter Three
Marcus’s stomach was in knots as he pulled into the driveway of the house he’d grown up in.
The house he’d stormed out of without a backward glance.
He’d thought that chilling out at Murphy’s before seeing his mother and sisters for the first time since that horrible day would calm his nerves a little, but nope. He was as anxious as a young bull at castration time.
Yes, he’d spoken to his mother since leaving, but they’d both skirted the issue of why he’d left. Like Joanne, he was an expert at pretending everything was okay, which had worked while they’d been separated by several states.
But now he was home, and at some point they were going to have to talk.
Steeling himself for whatever was about to happen, he climbed out of the car. He barely got the door closed when his mother darted out of the house in flip-flops and a peach sundress that billowed around her legs as she ran to engulf him in a huge hug.
God, she felt good in his arms. Smaller than he remembered, but then, he’d grown another inch and put on a good forty pounds of muscle since the last time he’d seen her.
She pulled back, all smiles and watery green eyes. “You look amazing,” she said. “The Rocky Mountain air must have agreed with you. Come on. We’ll get your things later. I’ve got coffee and cake. Chocolate truffle, your favorite.”
Fond memories wrapped around him like a warm blanket, easing his nerves far more than the pint of beer had. She’d always made him a chocolate truffle cake for his birthday.
His dad would complain that it was too dry. Or had too much frosting. Or not enough frosting. But he’d been full of shit. Joanne was a hell of a cook, and the cake had always been perfect. Every. Single. Time.
“You didn’t have to go to any trouble,” he murmured as they entered the house. And look at that, the screen door still squeaked. The one Hector swore over and over that he’d fix. The man broke more promises than a politician.
That thought made him think of Senator Rush, which made him think of Brittany Rush and how smoking hot she was. He wondered if she had a boyfriend. A rich, smart, well-bred boyfriend her parents approved of.
“Are you kidding me?” Joanne said, saving him from thoughts he shouldn’t be having. He didn’t need to get involved with anyone right now, especially since he wasn’t staying in Storm for long, and Brittany was way out of his league, anyway. “I haven’t made a chocolate truffle cake since you left. I loved being able to make it again.”
Inhaling the homey aroma of coffee, cake, and the orange cleaner she used around the house, he kicked off his boots in the entryway. “You didn’t make it at all?”
She smiled sadly. “The cake was your thing.” Her smile grew bright again so fast he could have imagined the dismal cast to her lips a moment ago. His mother had always had a way of letting negativity roll off her back. Which was probably why she’d remained with Hector for as long as she had. “But you’re home now, so I’ll make it as much as you want.”
He followed her into the tiny kitchen, where, sure enough, she’d set out a generous slice of cake and a steaming mug of coffee.
“It looks amazing,” he said as he took a seat at the table.
She beamed at him. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can make for you. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”
An awkward pause filled the space between them as the reason they needed to make up for lost time became an elephant in the room.
He hastily shoveled a bite of cake into his mouth. The moment the richly decadent dessert hit his tongue, the elephant was forgotten and he moaned with pleasure. “Mom, this is your best cake yet.”
Her delighted laugh was like music. How long had it been since he’d seen her so happy? Granted, he’d been away for years, but even before that, she’d rarely offered up more than a smile. Laughter had truly been scarce.
He washed down the cake with a sip of coffee. “Last time I talked to you on the road, Mal and Dakota didn’t know I was coming.”
“They still don’t know. Mal is working late tonight at the bed and breakfast, but she should be home any minute. I just wanted to have you all to myself for a little while. You left so...suddenly.”
He blinked, wondering how in the world she could say that. Sure, he’d left without warning, but his leaving was an inevitability that she should have seen coming a mile away. But inevitable or not, guilt still centered in his chest as if that damned elephant was standing on it.
“It wasn’t really that sudden,” he muttered, feeling like a chastised teen again. When Joanne merely gave him a noncommittal shrug, some small part of him was relieved that they didn’t have to hash this out yet. “So, how have things been?”
“Great.” She blew steam off the surface of her coffee and watched him from over the rim of her cup. “Business at the florist has been booming, and I’ve also been working for Marylee Rush, so that’s kept me busy.”
Marcus forced a neutral expression, but the thought of his mother working for the Rushes made his head throb. Of course, the mention of the Rushes put yet another image of Brittany in his brain, and the throb moved south.
Idiot.
He glanced around the kitchen, noting that nothing had changed. The counters were still the same ugly brown they’d always been, the fridge was still making god-awful sounds of suffering, and the faded picture of Hector in his glory days as a high school football player still hung on the wall next to the wooden spoon he’d used to blister Marcus’s ass.
“Have you heard from Dad?” he asked quietly, and his mom stiffened.
“No.” She looked into her coffee as if seeking advice from Juan Valdez. “But yesterday I got a letter from the bank needing my signature on the title to his Buick. Apparently, he’s selling it, so I at least know he’s not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”
That was too bad. He wondered if he should be ashamed of that thought, but then he realized he really didn’t care.
He heard the screen door squeak, followed by Mallory’s high-pitched, happy squeal. “Marcus? Oh, my God, is it really you?”
She flew into the kitchen, a bundle of teenage energy dressed in khaki shorts and a red T-shirt and matching red sneakers. He’d only just gotten to his feet when she launched into his arms with such enthusiasm that he bumped into the cheap, rickety table and damned near knocked it over.
“Hey, sis.” He laughed as she squeezed him. “Look at you, all grown up.” Well, as grown up as a sixteen-year-old could be, anyway.
She peeled herself off him, but she was all grins and bouncy-toes as she took him in. “When did you get here? Are you home for good? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
He reached out to ruffle her hair the way he used to when they were young. “I just got here, we’ll see, and I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise.”<
br />
“It’s the best surprise ever.” Mallory gave him another hug before taking a slice of cake Joanne offered. “Dakota will be so excited. I texted her the second I saw your car.”
“It’ll be good to see her happy.” Joanne rinsed something in the sink. “She’s been so angry and lost since your father took off.”
Marcus wasn’t sure if the thread of sadness in his mother’s voice was because Hector was gone or because Dakota was wallowing in anger, but either way, his own temper flared.
“Maybe it’s time she realized that life isn’t about being indulged,” he said. “People you love disappoint you, and sometimes they leave.”
“She learned that lesson when you left,” Joanne murmured, her back still turned as she hovered over the sink.
“Mom!” Mallory gasped.
“It’s okay, Mal.” Marcus dug into his cake again, even though he was no longer hungry. “My leaving is something we’ll have to hash out eventually.”
“But not right now, okay?” Mallory’s big brown eyes glistened, and he felt like a dick for letting the conversation slide into uncomfortable territory. “Please?”
“Of course.” Their mother turned away from the sink, looking suddenly very tired, which only added to Marcus’s guilt. “I’m sorry I said that. I’m just so worried that Dakota is never going to stop hating me.”
“You worry too much, Mom,” Mallory said. “It’s her problem, not yours.” The sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway rumbled through the house, and Mallory let out a long-suffering sigh. “Sounds like the problem just got here.”
A moment later, Dakota blew into the house like a storm. Marcus swore he felt the air pressure spike and the temperature drop as she burst into the kitchen and nearly knocked him down with the force of her embrace.
“You’re home,” she said against his chest. “Oh, thank God, you’re home.”
“Let me get you a piece of cake, and then we can all celebrate,” Joanne said, but Dakota huffed with annoyance.
“You know I’m watching my diet.”
