Commanding Officer - Emerson Rose

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COMMA NDING OFFICER

EMERSON ROSE

Prism Heart Press

Co nte nts Copyright Dedication Description Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Epilogue Major’s Baby Copyright Dedication Prologue 1. Major

2. Violet 3. Major 4. Violet 5. Major 6. Violet 7. Major 8. Violet 9. Major 10. Violet 11. Major 12. Violet 13. Major 14. Violet 15. Major 16. Violet 17. Major 18. Violet 19. Major

20. Violet 21. Major 22. Violet 23. Major 24. Violet 25. Major 26. Violet 27. Major 28. Violet 29. Major 30. Violet 31. Major 32. Violet 33. Major Epilogue Also by Emerson Rose Like Prism Heart Press on Facebook! Acknowledgments

About the Author

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To all of the men and women in every branch of our military thank you for your tireless service, sacrifice, strength and dedication. If not for you, we would not know freedom.

DESCRIP T ION

Some rules are meant to be broken. Major Drake Valentine is one of those rules. Just when I’m on the verge of having it all—I lose everything. Three years of waitressing and singing my heart out in audition hall after audition hall were flushed down the drain thanks to a wild New York night I can’t remember and one humiliating viral video.

Feeling like a failure and drowning in shame, I leave the city and move back home to Jewel Falls, North Carolina to live with my older brother until I can get back on my feet. Our arrangement is simple—I can stay with him as long as I abide by his one rule at all times. His one rule? Stay away from his best friend and next door neighbor, Drake. Easy enough. Dating’s the last thing on my mind, and I’d rather lay low for a while. But then I meet the dominant and alluring United States Marine. And while I know he’s off-limits, I just can’t help but to wonder how his hands would feel in my hair, how his full lips would taste against mine. Drake is commanding and guarded, but his heart isn’t the only thing he’s trying to protect. Major Drake Valentine has a secret. And there’s only a

matter of time before his secret—and our budding relationship—is exposed. And only then will I know the true reason my brother insisted I stay away from his best friend.

CHA P T ER 1

Tiana

I MAKE one mistake in twenty-five years and it ends up plastered all over the Internet. Well, I’ve probably made more than one mistake, but not one this devastating. It’s Saturday morning and my bedroom is trashed. A multitude of potential clubbing outfits are tossed

here and there, my makeup is strewn all over my vanity table and empty shot glasses pepper the dresser and nightstand next to my bed. This was a bad morning, followed by an even worse night. Being chosen to sing on the worldrenowned TV show Just Sing prompted a night of celebrating with my best friend and roommate, Suki. We didn’t wait until we got to the club. We started drinking while we dressed, styled our hair, and applied our makeup. We were well on our way to being inebriated before we even left the apartment. New York city has been my home for the past three years. I moved here to get away from my overprotective Marine brother, Jayden. I love him to death but he was smothering my dreams of becoming a star. I took off right after college and thought I would land in the Big Apple, have a couple auditions, get a great job, a recording deal, and be on my way to superstardom.

I was naive and dumb, but after all this time, my dreams feel like a possibility. I auditioned for the show a month ago. After seeing the competition, I didn’t think I had a chance in hell of being chosen. Suki auditioned too, she’s an actress but she says she’s willing to take the long way around by singing if necessary. I felt guilty when I opened the letter of acceptance. I shrieked and hugged Suki before even thinking about if she had received one as well. She hadn’t. We auditioned on different days and I made sure to remind her of that, but another week went by and still no letter came for her. She was a good sport about it; she was genuinely happy for me which is more so than I would have been I’m afraid. She’s a good friend. Suki and I met the first week I moved to the city. She was working at a nightclub called The Aquarium across the street from my seventh-floor walk-up apartment. I went for a drink on a

Saturday night and she was my waitress. We got to talking and bam, I had a job as a cocktail waitress the next weekend. I didn’t plan to work there for long, but a couple of weeks turned into months and months turned into years. A million auditions later, I was almost ready to give up when a customer heard me singing to myself while I was cleaning up behind the bar after last call. He was dressed to the nines in an Armani suit that probably cost as much as I make in a year, maybe two. He told me I had a unique voice and pressed a business card into my hand before he left. I was skeptical but I figured, why not? What’s one more audition? I had recently enrolled in beauty school after years of my brother telling me I needed to get a real job. As if being on my feet ten hours a night wasn’t real enough. The idea of standing in one spot with my hands in

someone’s hair all day long was not appealing but the pay was a step up from waitressing and according to him, it’s a profession. Jayden wants me to be able to say I’m anything other than a waitress wannabe singer, even if I’m miserable while doing it. I shelved being a beauty school dropout right away when I opened my acceptance letter from Just Sing. But now lying in bed the morning after watching a video of myself doing things I would never have done under normal, sober circumstances. I’m thinking I might have to dust off that plan and grab my scissors after all. I open my eyes just a slit, enough to see the mess I’m going to have to clean up later with this headpounding hangover. Suki pads across the room and I feel the mattress dip next to me but I don’t move. “Are you okay?” I moan and turn onto my side into the fetal position. I cringe when I think of the video Suki just showed

me from Facebook. I was dancing on the bar of one of the most famous nightclubs in the city nearly naked and sandwiched between two beefy, sweaty men. They were grinding against me and their hands and mouths were everywhere. Bile rises in my throat, but I manage to swallow it back down. A shiver races up my spine at the thought of their hands on my breasts and their mouths on my skin, but it’s more than just that. I don’t remember it, any of it. Watching that video is like watching a stranger. Someone wanted me to remember, though. They made damn good and sure of that with a video documentation of the entire night from the second we stepped out of my building until I disappeared out of the side door of the club into an alley at five in the morning, slumped in the arms of a man I’ve never seen before. “Why are you up watching last night’s bar footage at this time of morning?” I ask.

“It’s three in the afternoon and it popped up on my Facebook news feed, I didn’t go looking for it.” “Facebook?” I groan and pull my pillow over my face. “Why would anyone video me like that? And why don’t I remember any of it? God, Suki, please tell me you never left my side.” “I don’t know. I don’t remember much after one in the morning except drinking and dancing.” “But you woke up in your own bed? Alone?” I removed the pillow and squinted through the bright sunshine at my friend sitting on the edge of my bed. I reached out and felt around on the mattress next to me to make sure I didn’t bring my own nasty beefcake home with me. The other side of my bed is empty, cool, and undisturbed. Thank God. “Yeah. I was up at ten this morning and we were both alone and the door to the apartment was locked.”

I should be grateful for that, but what about the enormous gap between arriving at The Aquarium at eleven last night and… well, now? “Tiana?” “Yeah?” “That’s not the only video.” My heart was already pounding in my chest but now nausea is starting to make its way through my body. More videos? What could be worse than the five minutes of humiliation I just watched? “What do you mean? What else?” “I don’t think you want to see, but I thought I should at least tell you.” “Where are they? Who’s posting them? Why the hell don’t I remember?” I grab my head and squeeze my eyes closed tight trying to pull the nonexistent memories from my fuzzy mind. “We had a lot to drink but I’ve never blacked out and lost time like that. Why did you leave me? You

never leave me, we have rules.” I throw my arm across my eyes and breathe in the smell of stale perfume mixed with cigarette smoke and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m sorry, you know I would never leave you alone. I don’t remember leaving either. The videos are coming from club websites.” “So, nothing private?” I reach down under the comforter as I’m speaking and check for my panties. They’re there. “No, everything I’ve seen happened inside the clubs.” “Do you think we were drugged? I mean do you feel like anything serious happened?” “Serious as in we made fools of ourselves or serious as in assault?” “The latter.” “I don’t feel like anything happened, do you?”

I have no idea how I feel right now. I’ve been awake less than five minutes and I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. “I don’t know, I mean no, I don’t feel different and I’m wearing underwear so that’s good, right?” She gives me a tiny shrug and lifts one side of her lip in a grimace. She doesn’t believe nothing happened, something is making her doubtful. The other videos… “Let me see them, I have to know what’s out there so I can try and fix it before anybody with Just Sing sees them and disqualifies me from the show.” Her grip on her phone tightens and my eyes widen. “What is it? Why are you trying to protect me from this?” “It’s just, I don’t know, I don’t think…” I snatch her phone and roll away from her under the covers shielding the phone with my body in

case she tries to take it back. She already has the link to The Aquarium pulled up and I click on it to watch what she doesn’t want me to see. At first, it’s just more dancing, drinking, being fed drink garnishments and body shots. Then the person videoing becomes distracted by something happening to the left of me but I’m still in the shot. I keep my eye on myself. I’m pressed up against a man with my arms around his neck when my body slumps. He scoops me up and carries me out the side door into the alley, the time stamp says 5:30 a.m. The person taking the video seems to realize I’m gone and moves to focus on someone else. I scour the rest of the footage looking for myself but all I find are drunken partiers who eventually make their way out of the club at closing time. I push my hand out from under the covers and blindly hand the phone back to her. “Tiana… you don’t know, I mean maybe he brought you here and put you to bed like a gentleman.”

I whip the sheet from my head and sit up too fast. The room tilts and spins and my head feels like someone is shoving an ice pick into my ear. “That’s exactly right, Suki, I don’t know, I’ll probably never know. But, to the rest of the world it sure as hell looks like I got trashed off my ass and let some stranger haul me out of the bar, and he was no gentleman. A gentleman doesn’t pour tequila on a woman’s tits in a bar and licks it off while people shout profanities. I need to shower. I need to look myself over and try to figure out if anything happened. And then we must get those videos taken down. If anyone associated with Just Sing sees that, I’m done. They have a strict ‘good reputation’ clause in their audition paperwork and I signed it because I have always had a good fucking reputation.” I risk falling flat on my face when I jump out of bed and head for the bathroom. The room spins again and I grab the wall on my way before shutting the door. Inside I press my back against the cool wood

and brace myself before I look in the mirror. When there is only one of everything around me instead of three, I turn and look at my reflection expecting the worst. Usually, after a hard night, I have black mascara streaks down my face and smeared lipstick. But not today, I look like I do every other morning. I’m wearing my pajama top and panties. My face is free of makeup. My wavy brown hair is in a loose bun on the top of my head. One blue eye and one brown eye stare back at me while I try to remember the events of last night. I touch my cheek and look down at myself running my hands over my torso feeling for bruising or scratches, but there is nothing. I pull my shirt off over my head and toss it on the floor near the hamper and place my damp, nervous hands on the vanity. Leaning and twisting closer to the mirror, I check for any signs that I’ve been physically violated but there’s nothing. I step back

and touch the waistband of my blue cotton panties. I freeze. I wore black lace last night, not blue cotton. I lift my wide eyes to the mirror. Lost in thought, I trace my steps from last night, but my memories stop after my third martini. I’m tired and weak. I need to shower. I slip off my panties and look them over until I’m satisfied they are fresh and clean. I toss them into the hamper next to the shower and see that my clothes from last night are on top of the pile, black lace panties included. Snatching them up I check for rips or tears but they are perfect other than smelling like alcohol and smoke. Somewhat relieved, I turn on the shower. I’m about to wash away any trace of something I’m not even sure happened and I don’t care. I just want to be clean of the musty smell of the bar and the few sporadic memories of last night. I wish I could turn back time. I would have stayed

home and celebrated with an espresso and a good book instead of the black hole that last night turned into.

CHA P T ER 2

Drake

“HEY, old man, you need your glasses?” Jayden says from my driveway. “Watch it, Captain, or I’ll let it slip that you’ve been fraternizing with the general’s daughter.” Jayden approaches with his hands in the pockets of

his jeans. “That’s not cool, man, I don’t even like her. It’s not my fault she follows me around like a lovesick puppy. You know I’m messing with you. Where are your glasses, though?” “Inside.” “They aren’t helping you find the screw you’re looking for in there.” “I’m well aware and I’m looking for zip ties, not a screw.” “Oh really? You got something else inside you want to tell me about, or someone?” I turn and give my best and most annoying friend, Jayden, a look of disgust. “I’m not tying anybody up with zip ties you pervert. I’m bundling all of the electrical cords together so they aren’t lying around for me to trip over.”

“Ah, baby proofing, I get it.” “Fuck off, Jay. If you’re not going to help me, take your ass home.” “I’m messing with you. They’re in here,” he says opening a small drawer on my immaculately organized workbench. He takes out a handful and passes them to me and I take them and mumble a quiet thanks. “You want some help?” he asks. “No, you’ll just insult me, why would I want to listen to that?” “I’m not gonna insult you, man. Come on, I don’t have anything to do; let me help.” I don’t say anything but I leave the door between the garage and my kitchen open so he can follow me inside. “What prompted this project?” he asked. “I almost broke my neck,” I tell him.

“You’re getting clumsy in your old… never mind.” “I hardly think thirty-seven is old.” “It is if you’re ever gonna have a wife and some kids,” Jayden continues. “You sound like my mother. Like I said, it’s not old.” I squat down next to the television to zip tie the cords behind it securely. “Oh, come on, you’re not going to spend the rest of your life alone in this house, are you? You need to stop messing around with all those one-night stands and find some hot young thing, make her your wife and pound a baby into her.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me behind the TV. What a caveman. “So, you think I should pick up some random barfly and impregnate her so I don’t die alone?” I look at him from behind the TV. His expression is one of utter confusion.

“Yeah, why not?” Jay asked. I shake my head and stand up moving to the desk where I tripped over a stray lamp cord earlier today. “There is a multitude of reasons but I’ll start with the most obvious, I’m slowly going blind. You know how strongly I feel about saddling a wife and children with that problem. And you know I don’t date. But if I did, I would date someone with a GPA above 2.0 who doesn’t have any sexually transmitted diseases. There are no such women at the bars you frequent.” Jayden flops down on my couch with a grunt. “You’re always making up excuses, I think you have commitment problems.” I answered, “I’ve got problems all right.” “Is there something you’re not tellin’ me, old man?” “No, just the usual struggle of faking my way

through the sight test at my yearly physical next week, so I fully qualify for a promotion. Nothing big.” “Is it getting worse? You think you’ll be able to do it again this year?” “It’s no worse since last weekend, but I’ve given my entire life to the Marine Corps and I want to be a Lieutenant Colonel before I go blind. If my failing vision fucks this up now, my life will have been for nothing.” Jayden is the only person in the world other than my secret eye doctor and the people helping me get a service dog, who knows that my sight has been slowly deteriorating since I was twenty years old. Macular degeneration of unknown cause is what they call it. A big, fat pain in my ass is what I call it and it couldn’t have chosen a worse time to progress. It’s not a severe setback, but the shadows in the center of my vision are becoming darker and I’m nervous about my upcoming vision test and

physical. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, I always do.” Jayden’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he takes it out to read a text. I hope it’s something interesting that will make him change the subject. “Fuck.” He sits up on the edge of the couch with his phone in both hands. “What’s wrong?” When he doesn’t answer, I cock my head to the side to see him better from my peripheral. He has a death grip on his phone and he’s shaking. I drop my zip-ties and carefully walk across the sparsely furnished room to see what’s got him so upset. He’s watching a video that I can’t make out but it sounds like people in a bar or a club. “That’s my little sister.” His voice is tight and strained. “What’s she doing? You know I can’t see that tiny

screen.” “Practically fucking two guys on a bar in New York.” “What?” I lean down over his shoulder and see a young woman dancing on a bar. “How can you even tell who that is? She’s not facing the camera and it’s blurry.” “It’s her. She doesn’t do shit like this, or at least she didn’t use to.” “Didn’t you say she was going to be on that singing show?” The video ends and he continues to stare at the screen. “Just Sing, yes she was but not if they see this. I need to talk to her.” “Who sent you the video?” “Her roommate Suki.” “Is she trying to get you to fly to New York and commit homicide?”

“Her text says she’s worried about Tiana.” His phone rings in his hand startling him. “Tiana? What the hell is going on there? I just got…” It’s quiet while his sister speaks. I’ve known Jayden for seven years, we live next door to each other here in Jewel Falls, North Carolina, but I’ve only ever seen his sister from afar running in or out of the house. She wasn’t around much. She was living in the dorms at college back then. Jayden insisted she go to school somewhere close to home in hopes that she would continue to live under his roof. She wanted to spread her wings and go to college out of state so they compromised. Seven years her senior, Jayden is powerfully overprotective of his baby sister. He was more her father than her brother growing up after their parents died in a house fire. Losing both of your parents at the same time is tragic, but being moved from England to the US to live with an aunt soon

after compounded the loss. “Of course, alright I’ll see you Saturday then. We’ll figure this out, don’t cry, Tiana, please.” He hangs up and slouches down into the couch. “She’s coming home?” “Yeah, she hasn’t come home since she moved to the city. She says I smother her.” I sit on the edge of an oversized chair next to the couch and prop my elbows on my knees. “Do you?” He doesn’t answer right away, he’s busy staring at the ceiling and thinking. “Yeah, I do I guess, but it’s because I love her and she’s the only blood family I have left.” “Maybe you can try to give her some space when she gets here. Did she explain what happened?” “No, well, yeah sort of. She said they went out to

celebrate her acceptance onto Just Sing and she got carried away but she doesn’t remember a lot of the night.” He jumps up and turns for the door. “I’m going to get her room ready. I’ll call you later.” “Are we still on for drinks?” “Yeah.” He stops in his tracks and turns to me. “Drake.” “What?” “Don’t get any funny ideas about my sister. I know you man and she isn’t your type. Got it?” I don’t take well to being bossed around but I let it go in the light of what’s happening. “Of course not. Wait, how old is she again?” I have to mess with him a little so he knows I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I would take advantage of his sister.”

He narrows his eyes and his hands ball into fists at his sides. “I’m fucking with you, go… make your sister’s bed or whatever.” I wave my arm toward the front door dismissing him. “I mean it, hands off,” he warns as he leaves. I roll my eyes and go back to zip-tying my cords. I would have loved to tell him I’m not interested in dating his sister if she looked anything like him but I think he’s had enough shit for one day.

CHA P T ER 3

Tiana

“WHAT DO you mean you’re leaving?” “I mean I’m going home to Jewel Falls to live with my brother.” “You mean to visit, right? You’re coming home when this is all figured out, aren’t you?”

Suki is standing in the hall watching me pack with her hands on her hips and her mouth hanging open in disbelief. “No, I’m going Saturday. I’ve been here for three years trying to break into the music business and I’m getting nowhere. Just Sing was my big opportunity and I blew it the other night when I got trashed.” “You didn’t blow it. They’ll probably never see those videos. We had them taken down within twenty-four hours.” I reach into my purse and toss her the letter I got in the mail today and go back to packing. “What’s this?” “Proof that I blew it.” The letter is from Just Sing regretfully retracting their offer due to my breach of their moral’s clause. Suki reads it and drops her hands to her sides blowing out a heavy sigh. I can’t look at her. No one is more disappointed

about this than I am but I’m sure Suki’s eyes are full of pity and I hate pity. Especially when this whole thing is my own damn fault. I’m not meant to be a singer. I need to start accepting that. “So, you’re just going to bail on me and leave me without a roommate? And what about your job? Who’s going to cover your shifts at the bar? You can’t just run away from your problems, Tiana.” Oh yes, I can. “I wrote you a check for two months’ rent, that should be enough time to find a new roommate. I called in and quit this morning. Jerry said he understood after what happened.” Jerry is our boss at The Aquarium and I don’t know if he understood since I left a message with his answering service, but Suki doesn’t need to know that. “So, this is it, you’re leaving me?”

I turn and stand up straight abandoning my packing to cross the room and hug my best friend. “I’m sorry, I know this is shitty but it’s something I have to do. I need to reevaluate my life and make a new plan; this one isn’t working.” She squeezes me tight for a long time before holding me out at arm's length by my shoulders. Two big fat tears streak down her cheeks and fall onto the floor between us. I have failed at everything that is important in my life, my career goals, my co-workers, my family, and my best friend. “I’m going to miss you like crazy.” “I’ll miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me soon.” “I will, I promise.” She rubs my arms up and down and leaves me to finish packing. I’m glad she didn’t give me a hard time about this. It’s hard enough to go home with my tail between my legs and admit to my brother that I’m a failure.

At least he’s being decent about it so far. Jayden didn’t hesitate for a second when I asked if I could stay with him while I figure things out. He’s single and lives alone in Aunt Marla’s house that she left to him when she died. He never did anything different with my bedroom. Maybe it will be like the past three years never happened. I’ll go home and pretend I just finished college and I’m deciding what to do with my life. It’s a juvenile way to cope, but for right now it’ll have to do. When I’m done, I sit on the edge of the bed and look around at the suitcases full of Jimmy Choo, Christian Louboutin, Gucci, and Chanel. I love expensive clothes and shoes. Jayden and I grew up with the bare necessities but I made up for it when I moved to New York. Working extra shifts was worth it to afford them but I didn’t buy much else. This is what my life has been reduced to, five boxes and several suitcases. It seems like three years should look like more than this.

I often wonder what our lives would have been like if mum and dad hadn’t died when our house burned down. If we had grown up in the UK, would Jayden have gone into the military? Would I have achieved my dreams of becoming a professional singer? Would have, could have, should have, all things that make no difference now. I sigh and check my bag for my plane ticket before calling an Uber. The sooner I get out of here the better, onward and upward.

CHA P T ER 4

Drake

“DRAKE, darling, are you home?” My mother’s voice floats up the stairs of my twostory house. It’s seven o’clock in the morning. What is she doing here at this hour? And why did she let herself in? It’s not as if she were interrupting my sleep. I’ve been up for hours, eaten

breakfast, run five miles, and showered but she knows I prefer a call before a visit. “Getting out of the shower, Mother. What’s wrong?” The click clack of her heels on the hardwood echoes off the walls as she climbs the stairs. I wrap a towel around my waist and wait. “You haven’t been returning my calls, that’s what’s wrong.” She’s right. I haven’t. I love my mother to the moon and back but she’s perceptive. I don’t want anyone noticing the recent decline in my vision before I get promoted. I should have known she would pop in and check on me. “I’m sorry, I was going to call you today.” “You were not, you’re an awful liar, Dee.” Her voice is right outside the door of my en-suite bathroom. Mother has never been much for

boundaries, that’s probably one of the reasons why I keep people at arm's length. “I’m naked, Mother. Could you give me a few minutes to dress?” “I gave birth to you, Drake Marshal Valentine, I’ve already seen it all. I only wanted to make myself known. I don’t need anything.” She pushes the door open letting the steam escape into the bedroom and leans in to kiss my cheek leaving a perfect red lipstick mark. She is impeccably dressed in a beige pantsuit with a crisp white blouse and heels that not many sixty-fiveyear-old women would dare to sport. Now I feel guilty and I have a strong suspicion that was her intention. I look at her through the mirror out of the corner of my eye. “Thank you, Mother. Again, I apologize. Let me take you to lunch soon to make up for being a neglectful son.” “Oh hush, my sweet boy. You don’t have to feed

me out of guilt. But I would appreciate it if you would call me back when I call four times in one week.” She pats my cheek and gives me a stern look. I smile and try not to cringe when she turns my face to look at her straight on. “You never look me in the eye anymore. I love these gorgeous blue eyes. Why hasn’t a beautiful woman fallen in love with them too?” Here we go again. I’m thirty-seven and she wants grandchildren more than life itself. “You know how I feel about that,” I say turning back to the mirror so I can see her in my peripheral vision. “I do not. I will never understand why you want to dedicate your whole life to a rigid institution and a bunch of sweaty men instead of a lovely woman and a house full of grandchildren for your poor old mother.” I lift one side of my mouth in a smirk. “You’re hardly a poor old mother. You look more like my

sister than my mother and you know it. You don’t really want a bunch of little ones calling you grandma now, do you?” She frowns and her bottom lip comes out in a pout that I’ve been watching her use to get her way my entire life. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Drake.” She stands up straighter and brushes her perfect blonde hair behind her shoulder and smoothes her hands down the front of her suit. “I do look good for my age but I would love nothing more than to be called grandma one day… soon.” “You’d be the hottest grandma to ever walk the earth.” I kiss her and she lets out a harrumph before turning on her spiky heel to leave. “Love you,” I call after her. “Love you, Son,” she calls back. I dread the day she learns the real reason I refuse to commit to a woman and have children. It may

devastate her as much as it does me. The pride she has for me is profound. She may complain that I’ve dedicated my life to the Marine Corps but she never misses a chance to brag about me to anyone who will listen. It’s Saturday, Jayden and I usually hang out but he is meeting his sister at the airport so I’m on my own. I haven’t driven since I woke up with a significant change in my vision a week ago. At first, I thought it was a hangover, but I hadn’t had that much to drink. Soon, I realized the larger spot of fogginess in the center of my vision wasn’t going away. That’s when I began to panic. I’ve known this was coming for years but the sudden reality of it shook my foundation to the core. After a week, I am still learning how to maneuver through my days with less of my central vision. The thought of living alone in total darkness one day is the first thing to terrify me ever in my life.

I have several errands to run. I could probably make it around town driving just fine. I know every street and corner like the back of my hand but I couldn’t live with myself if I accidently hurt someone. I could call an Uber, but I know every person in this town and I don’t know how I would explain that. The only person who has ever known about my condition is Jayden and he’s busy saving his baby sister from herself. It’s a beautiful North Carolina summer day. It wouldn’t be strange for me to walk into town and do my errands on foot. When I’m dressed, I make my way down the block and hang a right toward the town square. I need groceries and a few things from the hardware store but first I need a haircut. It’s early and the humidity hasn’t taken hold yet. A week ago, I may not have noticed the warm sun on the back of my neck or that the thick fragrance of

Mirabilis hanging in the air, but I do now. It’s true that when one sense is removed the others compensate but it doesn’t make this shit any easier. I step out of the barbershop twenty minutes later with my hair cut neat and tight Marine Corps style. The sun is bright and for a moment I can’t see. The sensation makes my heart pound in my chest. I have nightmares about losing my sight and even the split second of loss ignites anxiety in my brain. I step back under the canopy over the door and blink several times until my eyes have adjusted to the light and I calm my breathing. The temperature must have gone up ten degrees while I was inside, or maybe I’m sweating from the adrenaline rush I just had but I’m too hot. I need to get to the grocery store and back into the air conditioning. People are milling around the town square doing weekend errands or window-shopping. I catch sight of a man two blocks away holding the door of

our local diner open for a woman. It’s Jayden, I can tell by the way he holds himself like a Marine, tall and proud, but the woman, she’s a mystery. She’s the same height as Jayden but with heels, she towers above him. Her hip-hugging skirt and wraparound blouse is more upscale than anything the good people of Jewel Falls have hanging in their closets. And her hair is piled high on the top of her head in an elegant bun. That fucker made a breakfast date. He must have dumped his sister off at home so he could rush over here and take his latest conquest to breakfast. He told me he was going to be tied up all day getting Tiana settled. Yeah right, he’s going to be tied up all right. I look both ways before crossing the street and walk down the wide sidewalk toward the diner. I plan on giving him some shit for being such an asshole. What kind of friend ditches his sister and his best friend for a hot piece of ass? Well, I guess me for one.

Along the way, several people wave and greet me by name. Living in Jewel Falls reminds me of Mayberry, only the residents are nosier here. Everyone knows your business no matter how good you are at covering it up. Except for my sight, that is the secret only one person knows and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible. “Oh, Drake, just the man I was looking for.” The familiar voice of Miss Cavanaugh, Jewel Falls most attractive first-grade teacher/closet freak, stops me in my tracks. “Good Morning, Miss Cavanaugh. What can I do for you?” “Lexi, please Drake. I think we can be on a first name basis after all this time.” She sidles up next to me and links her arm through mine. Lexi and I ended up in bed together a month ago, after Jayden and I took our poker night of drinking too far. It turned out that she had a strong penchant for kink like me. I assumed everyone in Jewel Falls was pure vanilla but in the case of Miss Lexi

Cavanaugh, I was wrong. As most women do, she took it to mean more than it did and I’ve been trying to backpedal ever since. “Alright, Lexi, then. What can I do for you?” She squeezes my arm and begins to walk tugging me along with her. “I need a big strong Marine to look at my car and tell me what’s wrong with it.” I look at her sideways and frown. “I think what you’re looking for is a mechanic, not a Marine.” She swats at my arm. “I know what I’m looking for.” She looks up at me batting her eyelashes like a true Southern belle and lays her head on my shoulder for emphasis. I don’t know shit about cars and I shouldn’t lead her on but she’s sweet and sexy and kinky all wrapped up in one pretty package that I don’t want to say no to.

“Lead the way.” She all but squeals and pulls me down Main Street toward her little green bungalow where I’m sure I won’t find a single thing wrong with her car.

CHA P T ER 5

Tiana

BEING home in North Carolina is surreal. Growing up I planned my escape from small town life every hour on the hour. I never thought I would come home to the oppressive suffocating people of Jewel Falls. And in fact, I never did until now. Jayden would come to New York for Christmas at

my insistence. I used the hustle and bustle of big city life during the holidays to lure him there so I wouldn’t have to come home. It’s not that Jewel Falls wasn’t a nice place, it was, and from what I can tell it still is. It just wasn’t for me, or so I thought. I wanted to see my name in lights and have paparazzi follow me around until three in the morning after I performed in front of thousands of people in a sold-out concert. I wanted to sing every night for people who appreciated my talent and loved me for sharing it with them. But breaking into the music business is more about luck and being in the right place at the right time than hard work. I know because I worked my ass off for three years and nothing happened until the night a mystery man handed me his card at the end of my shift. Every time I think about it, I get a squishy sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was so close I could taste it. Just Sing was the

opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to show millions of people what I’m made of. Instead, I showed them how hard I can party. I still don’t like the way that it all went down. I would be able to take responsibility for messing up a lot easier if I could remember doing it. I feel like I’ve been cheated or wronged, like I’m doing time for a crime I don’t remember committing. I have no real remorse because it doesn’t feel like any of this is my fault. But it is, it must be. Videos don’t lie and there’s an awful lot of footage of me pounding the last nail into the coffin. Freakishly horrible timing is what it was, and bad, bad luck. My flight was delayed an hour and I’m ready to get out of this tin can which is stuffed to the brim with people. Something about breathing recycled air for a few hours creeps me out, not to mention sitting between a woman with a newborn and a guy who looks like Hurley from Lost.

When I saw him I almost turned around and walked to North Carolina, but the stewardess was blocking the aisle and another was closing the door. I was trapped in a plane doomed to crash like my singing career. The irony was beautiful. I slide my bag from the overhead compartment and teeter down the narrow aisle in my heels toward the front of the plane. I feel the heat and increasing humidity of North Carolina through the opening between the jet bridge and the plane. That’s another thing I never missed about North Carolina, the sweltering heat and the sensation of breathing fluid into your lungs on humid days like today. When I emerge from the tunnel, Jayden grabs me around the waist and hugs me so tightly I can’t breathe. When he releases me, I gasp and take a step back. “Wow, that’s some greeting, big brother.” His face flushes a faint pink and he shrugs his shoulders. “It’s the first time you’ve been home in three years.

I’m glad to have you, that’s all.” I punch him in his gut, his rock-hard gut, causing myself more pain than him. I groan and shake my hand in the air. He rolls his eyes and rubs my throbbing hand between his big calloused ones. Jayden was like a father to me when mum and dad died. He said he felt responsible for me and that they would have wanted him to look after me. That might be so, but I don’t remember much about them other than their looks and that my mother always smelled like lavender and soap and my dad walked with a limp. “Thank you, I didn’t know what else to do.” A frown puckers between his eyes, “You don’t have to thank me. This is your home. You’re always welcome here with me.” “It’s not home for me anymore, Jayden, but I appreciate you letting me stay for a while.” “Home is where your family is, Tiana, and since

I’m all you’ve got, this is home.” I let him have that. He has a point after all. “Okay, take me home then.” “I’m taking you to breakfast first. Is that all you have with you?” he says pointing to my carry on. “No, I have a couple suitcases to claim. I shipped my boxes, don’t worry there’s only a couple.” “I’m not worried, you could ship a whole apartment full of shit to me and I’d find room for it.” I love my brother but I swear he’s trying to make me cry. He almost succeeded with that sweet comment. I’ve been such a selfish snot for refusing to visit. “Luckily, I didn’t accumulate much.” He leads me around the corner to the turnstile, “Why is that?

“What?” “Why don’t you have more stuff? Girls usually collect lots of crap and clothes. And where’s your furniture?” “Judgmental much? This girl doesn’t collect crap, you should know that. Most of what I’m bringing is clothes and shoes. I don’t care about the furniture, it was all second-hand. I left it for Suki. I felt bad enough bailing on her. I couldn’t take the furniture too.” “You look beautiful, by the way, still interested in beauty school?” He looks me up and down slipping in that little bit about beauty school. I’m surprised it took him ten minutes to suggest a new career. It’s not that he doesn’t think I’m talented; Jayden loves my voice. When I was young, he told me I sang like an angel but being a realist he knew it was a dream a million other people chase. “I don’t know, I haven’t thought about anything but singing for a long time. I guess I’ll have to now,

huh?” We stop in front of the luggage belt and watch the dull navy blue and black suitcases creep by. “Listen, sis, you know I think you’re talented but singing isn’t your only talent. Your scholarship to college for fashion design was proof of that. I just want to help; tell me what to do.” I majored in music and minored in fashion design in college. I’m not sure where he got the idea for beauty school and I’m also not sure why I almost went through with it. “You’re doing it.” I smile and jump at the sight of one of my suitcases coming around the corner. “That’s me.” Jayden groans. “I should have known you’d have a hot pink sparkly suitcase. You’re pulling that one.” I wiggle my eyebrows; “You might change your mind when you see the others.” “Worse than that?” He points at my bag when I

drag it off the belt. “Depends on how do you feel about sparkly zebra print or big Hawaiian flowers?” He rolls his eyes and snaps the handle of the pink case up. In the truck, we catch up on what’s been going on with the good citizens of Jewel Falls over the past three years. Other than a couple weddings, funerals, and births, it’s safe to say this town is the same, including this diner that we are having breakfast in. “I remember the morning of my graduation. You brought me here for pancakes to help me relax.” “You were a mess of nerves that morning,” Jayden reminds me. “And you knew exactly what was best for me.” “I’m pretty good at that, you know.” “Yes, I do. Thank you, I love you, Jay.” I slide my

hand across the table and covered his hand with mine. He lowers his eyes to our hands and then meets mine full of confusion. “What?” “I don’t know. You seem different.” I pull my hand away, but he catches it and holds it there. “No, no, in a good way. I’m just, I’m glad you’re home.” “Yeah, so when are you throwing me a party?” “A party, huh? Well, I think I can do that.” “I’m kidding. I just want to take some time to figure out my next move. Besides, I don’t have any friends here anymore. Everyone went off to college and got jobs far away from Jewel Falls.” He sits back in his chair and crosses his muscular arms over his chest. “What do you have against this town anyway?” I inhale a deep breath and blow it out. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing wrong with this town except that it’s small and limited. My dreams were big and

had no boundaries. I always felt like Jewel Falls was holding me back, but I was wrong. I’m the only thing holding me back.” “Honey, dreams change, people grow. Maybe there’s a reason this happened? Maybe you’re meant for something else.” I look out into the buzzing diner and blink back tears. I don’t want him to be, but I think he’s right. My dream of making it big is dead. Being a singer is all I ever wanted to do. It’s in my blood; it’s my passion. When I sing every cell in my body comes alive. I can still sing for pleasure, and I will every chance I get but it will be without the hope of making it my career. “Let’s talk about something else, I’m tired of talking about me. What’s going on with you these days? How’s your love life?” “Oh no, you don’t. We are not talking about my sex life,” Jayden denies emphatically. “I didn’t say sex life, I said love life. It’s

interesting that you heard it that way.” I lean forward putting my elbows on the table and prop my chin on my hands tilting my head to one side. “That would be because there is no love going on, occasional sex, yes, love, no.” “So, what do you do around here for fun?” “Drake and I usually hang out and have a few drinks on the weekends at a bar near the base called Al’s. It’s not New York, but I like it.” “You’re damn right it’s not,” I agree. “Belt up, sis.” “I never understood that term.” “Because you were a little girl when we moved to the US. No one ever told you to shut up.” “I don’t remember.” I fiddle with my fork pushing what’s left of my pancake around on the plate. There is a lot of my childhood I don’t remember. A therapist told me once that I repress my memories

to protect myself from the pain of losing my parents. It makes sense, but I wonder if I’ll ever remember my life before age twelve. “You two get enough to eat?” A curvy waitress with wild blonde curls piled high on her head leans over the table to fill Jayden’s coffee cup but he covers it with his hand. “No thanks, Mel. I’ll take the check.” “Oh, it’s been paid, no worries.” “Paid?” “Yup, your friend Drake called and had me put it on his tab. Said to tell you to have fun.” Jay cocks his head to the side and frowns. “He called you?” “Uh, huh. Must have seen you in here having breakfast. Such a nice man.” Mel swoons with the coffee pot still in her hand. Her eyes glass over for a moment and I consider moving toward the window to make sure I don’t get a lap full of hot

coffee. The cook rings a bell like the ones in old movies and hollers “Order up” snapping her back to life. “That’s me. You two have a nice day. Welcome home, Tiana. It’s so good to see your pretty face around here again.” “Thank you, Mel. It’s good to be back, I say, smiling. Jayden shoves my foot under the table and Mel scurries away. “What?” “Liar.” “It’s a white lie to be nice, those don’t count.” “Whatever, since we don’t have to pay let’s get out of here. I need to call Drake on the way, something’s not right with this. Have fun, sounds sarcastic like he’s jealous.” “Maybe he is” I wink at him. “Drake is the guy

who lives next door, right? He’s a Marine too?” “Yep, he’s lived there for a few years and he’s older and higher in rank.” “I never saw him much I guess.” “Good.” “What do you mean good?” I ask. “He’s not the kind of man I want you around that’s all.” “He’s a Marine, isn’t he? And he’s your best friend. I’m surprised you haven’t booked a church for our wedding.” “Yes, he’s a Marine and my best friend. That’s exactly why I don’t want you messing around with him.” “Jealous much?” “Tiana, stop. Just stay away from him, okay? Promise me.”

“Okay, calm down, Jay. I won’t make you share your friend but I must admit I’m curious now. Why didn’t I ever notice him?” “You were busy with school,” Jay said. “You okay? You seem pissed.” He shifts in his seat and looks around the café. “It’s nothing.” He slides out of the booth and offers me his hand to help me up. We are standing toe to toe and I look him in the eyes. “Liar,” I taunt him “It’s a little white lie, it doesn’t count, remember?” I shake my head. “Take me home, big brother.” “Gladly, lil sister.”

CHA P T ER 6

Drake

MUCH TO MY ASTONISHMENT, Lexi’s car really had a problem. It wasn’t something she couldn’t have figured out on her own. A big rusty nail had lodged itself into the right back tire and it was as flat as a pancake. It took me all of fifteen minutes to change it.

She thanked me and invited me inside for a glass of lemonade, which I thought was covert for sex until she led me into her kitchen. Sitting at a small round table where two small Lexi look-alikes eating peanut butter sandwiches and watching cartoons. That’s when I realized she was a single mom working days as a teacher and evenings as a waitress to support her two children. They must have been with their father the nights we tumbled into her bungalow tearing off each other’s clothes on the way to the bedroom. She lured me here to show me what she was afraid to tell me. She’s interested in more than an occasional kink-filled evening tryst. She knew her tire was flat. Hell, she may have driven over that nail on purpose. But it was all done in vain. I’m not interested in anything long-term and I think she knew that. If she didn’t, she does now. It was an asshole move, but when I saw the kids I nodded at them and politely declined the lemonade before turning to leave.

She didn’t try to stop me or come after me. She knew it was a long shot. I should give her credit for trying, though. My personal life is no secret in this small town. Everyone knows that the only long-term relationship I’ve ever had is with the Marines. In a bar thirty minutes away from Jewel Falls, I sit staring at a pint of beer. I wonder if Jayden is going to stand me up for his new lady friend or maybe to spend time with his sister. It is her first night home after all. I told him yesterday we could skip our regular night out if he wanted, but he insisted on coming. I lift the condensation-covered glass to my mouth and let half of the amber liquid slide down my throat before setting it back on the bar. It’s quiet for Saturday night at nine o’clock in the city. It’s looking like this might be a dud night but anything’s better than sitting around at home waiting to go blind.

“Did you think I stood you up, old man?” Jayden’s voice comes from behind me just before he slaps me on the back. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time today, who was the hot number you took out to breakfast this morning? I figured you might be busy all day and night taking care of that.” Jayden stops pulling out the bar stool next to me. I turn to see why and find him glaring at me with narrow eyes and beat red cheeks. “Jay, you okay?” “That shit’s not funny, man. I’m serious. I told you not to fuck around when it comes to my little sister.” “Really? You’re one to talk.” “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Jayden shoves the bar chair back under the bar and steps back puffing out his chest. Something’s wrong, Jayden’s usually a peaceful

guy. I’ve never seen him pick a fight with anyone, let alone me. “Whoa, Jay, what’s going on? I never said anything about your sister. I just thought it was pretty shitty to pick her up from the airport and dump her off at home so you could have breakfast with some hot piece of ass you’ve never even mentioned. I’m not a dick, I get it that you need to help your sister but I think she and I both got the shaft this morning when you switched up plans to get laid.” The crack of Jayden’s fist making contact with my nose bounces around in my head and searing pain slices through my face making my eyes water. I jump off my seat and back away covering my face with my hand. Bright red blood oozes between my fingers and down my arm onto my crisp white dress shirt. What the hell is wrong with him? The two-hundred-pound brick-house bartender Al rounds the bar and pins Jayden’s arms behind his back while he screams and thrashes. He’s trying to

get in another punch and for what? “Calm the fuck down, boy, or I’m gonna have to call the law!” Al yells into his ear but he’s a man possessed, he can’t hear, his eyes are full of rage and even Al is struggling to keep him at bay. I’m trying to make sense of his attack when the lights go out but it’s not the lights in the bar, it’s the lights in my brain. I can’t see. For the longest moment, I struggle to keep my balance until I wobble and feel the bar against my side. I let go of my nose and let the blood flow freely down my face. I can’t let on to anyone what’s happening, it could be the end of my career. Jayden is the only person who can help me and coincidently, he’s the one currently trying to kill me. I hear scuffling of shoes and chairs and more voices of the people who frequent Al’s bar. They are helping Al keep him off me. “You fucking asshole, you can’t talk about my baby sister like that! I’ll rip your head off and shove it

up your ass if I ever hear you say a word about her again!” Slowly the room comes back into view, the blurry wood of the bar under my hand, the big screen television glowing above hundreds of bottles of liquor and the curious patrons staring at us. His sister? Wait a minute his sister and I are the victim’s here, what the hell is he talking about? “Jay, calm down, I never said shit about your sister, I was talking about the chick you were with at the café this morning.” “That was my sister, you asshole!” Now I’m mentally in the dark. The woman he was with at the diner couldn’t possibly be his sister. Her hair was nothing like I remember it. She had curves that went on for days, an ass so sexy and fuckable it made me hard for her five blocks away. She was taller, sophisticated, modern and put together like… like my mother.

It’s an odd thought, but my mother happens to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and to compare anyone to her is a huge compliment. “What? No, your sister had frizzy black hair, she was short and, and not sexy.” Okay, so not the smartest response but I’m still struggling to make sense of what he saying. Jayden lurches forward and comes within millimeters of hitting me again but this time I’m expecting it and I move back, knocking a chair to the ground with a loud clatter. “I’m gonna kill you, Drake, if you say one more fucking word about my sister. I’m gonna lay you out right here and beat you to death!” “Alright now, I think it’s time you went on home, Jayden. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but nobody’s getting an ass whooping in my bar tonight,” Al says tugging Jay toward the door. He’s still got his arms twisted behind his back and with a bouncer on either side of him, he won’t

have any trouble removing him. “Wait, so you’re telling me that woman in the tight skirt and stilettoes this morning was Tiana?” I still can’t believe it but it’s the only thing that makes any sense. “Yes. Why the hell do you think I told you to stay away from her?” He stops talking and leans forward narrowing his eyes as if he sees something on my face. “Stop thinking about her, you already have that look in your eyes!” “Look? What fucking look, the look of astonishment? Because if that was your sister, I’m floored.” “No, man, the I gotta have that one look. I never knew a woman you didn’t fuck after seeing that look on your face, but you’re not getting your hands on her, you hear me?” “Goddamn, Jayden, the whole East Coast can hear you, man. I’m not trying to fuck your little sister and I don’t know what look you're talking about.

Shit, you just broke my nose for not recognizing your sister, what the hell?” “No, I broke your nose for thinking she’s a hot piece of ass.” Well he’s right on that one, I can’t admit it out loud or he’s going to try to kill me but I can’t deny it for the same reason. I’ve never known anyone so overprotective. Jayden’s borderline psychotic right now, no wonder Tiana ran away to New York and never came back. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before saying another word. “Jay, apparently, your sister has changed a lot since she’s grown up. I won’t deny she’s attractive, even from five blocks away facing the opposite direction that was obvious.” He lurches again but I hold out my bloody hands to signal that I’m not finished. “But, I swear I had no idea that was Tiana. I would

never talk about your sister like that. You have nothing to worry about. A promise is a promise. I’ll keep my distance like I said I would. She’s off limits, totally and completely.” His shoulders relax and the redness in his face begins to fade. His hands that have been balled up into fists open and he takes a deep breath. “I think you can let him go, Al, it was a misunderstanding, he’s fine now, aren’t you, Jayden?” He doesn’t respond right away but after a little jostle from Al he agrees. “Yeah, I’m good, let me go.” “You sure, man? I don’t want any more trouble.” Al asks. “I’m fine, sorry about your nose. I’ll pay to get it fixed.” I laugh, my nose has been broken so many times I don’t think a plastic surgeon would know how to

‘fix’ it. “You got a mad right hook, ya know that? I think you missed your calling, you should have been a boxer, not a Marine.” He reaches out and I flinch. “Relax, I’m done messing you up.” “You sure about that? You were wound pretty tight a second ago.” He takes my chin and turns my face side to side. “Al, can I get a bag of ice? Pretty boy over here is working on two black eyes and a broken nose.” “Thanks to you.” Al hands him an ice pack he had already been making and Jayden puts it in my hand. “Nobody disses my sister, man, now you know.” “Indeed, I do.” I press the ice between my eyes and hiss when the pain intensifies.

“Here, drink this,” Al says pushing a shot of whiskey across the bar. “Thanks, I think I’m going to need a couple more, though.” “No problem.” He lines up a few more shot glasses and fills them in one sweep with what I hope is enough alcohol to numb the pain shooting through my face. He tosses Jayden a wet towel and he wipes the blood from between my fingers. “Maybe we should make it an early night?” “No way, you don’t get to pummel my face and dip out early. I’m going to need a ride home after I drink all of this.” “Fair enough, you don’t happen to have a clean shirt back there do you, Al?” Jay asks. “Will a Drink at Al’s T-shirt do?” “Yep, toss it over and add it to my tab. Time to melt some hearts, Drake, your shirt’s toast.” Jay’s always giving me shit about my chiseled body, he

thinks since I’m an old geezer, as he puts it, that I should take it easy when I work out. Per him, men my age should spend their weekends in a recliner watching football instead of running marathons and pumping iron. He doesn’t really believe that shit, he’s just jealous that I’m five years older than he is and I can kick his ass at anything. I look down at the formerly white button-down that I ironed to perfection an hour ago. Noses bleed a lot, this shirt’s going straight into the trash. I unbutton it with my free hand and shrug it off. With all the attention we have drawn, it’s not a surprise when several women gasp and one or two squirms on their bar stools at the sight of me shirtless. I’m not an exhibitionist, but now I know I can’t make it to the bathroom to change with my vision blurring in and out. “I hate you, man,” he whispers handing me the clean t-shirt. “I thought we had this all cleared up”

“Nah, not the Tiana thing, the way women react to you, it’s sickening.” “If you made it to the gym every day with me you’d get the same reaction, my friend.” “It’s not just the physique and you know it.” He snorts and throws back a shot of whiskey and slams it down pushing the glass toward Al for a refill. “You’re in a pissy mood tonight, maybe we should cut it short after all.” “I’m not mad about it, I just don’t get it. I work out every day, maybe not as hard as you, but I’m five years your junior and you could go home with a different woman every night if you wanted without even tryin’. I’m not a bad lookin’ guy, but damn, Drake, some of us gotta work at it. I have to get my game on and lure women in. You just sit there and they come to you like bees to honey.” “It’s confidence and indifference and the knowledge that none of them will ever mean

anything to me other than what they can give me over the next few hours. You need to play up your old accent. You’ve gotten too Southern. Women love a Brit. They drool all over themselves when they hear that bit of the UK coming through but you’re always hiding it.” “Because it’s my past and the US is my present and future. I’ve never even visited back home and I don’t plan to.” “I didn’t say you had to take a woman back to the homeland, just key up the accent to suck her in. Believe me, it’ll work like a charm I promise. And then you can stop being a jealous baby about my conquests.” “Yeah, alright, I’ll give it a shot I guess, can’t hurt.” “Great, now you can stop whining and find yourself a woman.” “Not tonight, this is strictly guys’ night now. Tiana is at the house, I’m not bringing any strange women

home when she’s there.” “Yeah okay, I understand that, but how long’s she staying? Are you going to let her cramp your style forever?” “She’s not cramping my style. And she can stay as long as she wants. I like havin’ her where I can see her.” “She’s not a baby anymore, you’re going to end up smothering her again and she’ll run. You need to be her brother, not her crazy sucker-punching overprotective dad.” “I’m not talking about my sister anymore with you.” I adjust the ice pack to the left where my nose isn’t numb enough and almost drop it on the bar when I watch a drop-dead gorgeous woman stroll through the door hand in hand with Private First Class Daniels. Jayden follows my gaze to see why my jaw just hit

the bar. “What the hell is she doing here, and with that pig?” I can’t respond, I’m being held in my seat by pure awe and admiration of the female anatomy. Long shapely legs carry the most perfect woman across the bar and lower her into a booth where she is facing Jayden and me. Unfortunately for Daniels, he has his back to us and Jay is up and taking long purposeful strides across the bar on his way to their table. When my brain frees me from my vegetative state I leap from my stool and grab the back of his shirt ignoring the severe dizziness plaguing my head. “Whoa there, little buddy. You can’t just barge in on her night hulk-style and start throwing punches. What are you gonna do? Beat up every man who looks at her?” “Yes, I can and yes, I will.”

Tiana waves from the booth when she sees her brother, clearly not noticing that he’s nearing nuclear detonation. I push up close behind him and whisper into his ear while I smile at his sister, “Look at her, do you see that gorgeous smile, those eyes full of admiration and love for you? Get your shit together, man. Walk over there, shake that peon’s hand and treat her like the lady that she is.” God, that was hard to say. One look into her unique eyes and all I wanted to do was throw her over my shoulder like a caveman and take her home with me. I envisioned my hand smacking her perfect ass for being with a boy instead of a man like myself. Now I understand why Jayden broke my nose and threatened my life. His baby sister is a goddess, a creature worthy of protecting and keeping hidden away from all the dirty evil men of the world. I would have done the same thing if I were him. “But she’s with Daniels, I can’t…”

“You can, and you will. Come on, I’ll go with you.” He walks in front of me stiff as a board with his hands balled into fists. “Hey, big brother,” Tiana says smiling. Her eyes dart in my direction and her smile falters. “What on earth happened to you?” She slides out of the booth and moves right into my bubble to examine my face. Normally I would protest or at least step away, but I’m enamored by her amazing eyes, one chocolate brown and one as blue as a summer sky. “A little misunderstanding, it’s nothing,” I say, my words trailing off into silence when she reaches up to touch my cheek with the tips of her fingers. It hurts but I’ll gladly allow her to probe and poke all she wants if she stays close enough for me to keep breathing in the sweet smell of peaches and vanilla emanating from her warm skin. “You remember Drake, don’t you, Tiana?” Jayden reaches out and removes her hand from my face

and guides her back into the booth. “He lives next door to us, moved in while you were in college.” Her face is crumpled in an adorable frown that makes her look ten years younger and more beautiful if that were possible. Her tawny skin is flawless, her bare shoulders are seductive and her soft peach lips nearly irresistible. She rolls her eyes and sighs as if she’s used to her brother’s annoying overprotectiveness. “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced. I’m Tiana, soon to be Jayden’s long-lost sister if he doesn’t back off.” She thrusts out her hand and I take it holding my breath. I try to keep the contact brief when I see the twisted look on Jayden’s face but she holds onto my hand a beat longer than she should. She’s feisty and not at all fond of being controlled, a combination that fucking turns me on. Staying away from this woman is not going to be easy. “I’ve heard a lot about you, it’s nice to finally meet

you, Tiana.” “Don’t listen to a word of it. Jay’s always putting me on a pedestal that I don’t belong on.” Everything in me wants to keep her hand, lean in and say there’s no pedestal high enough for you, beautiful girl. But that would make my best friend’s head spontaneously combust and as annoying as he is at times I’d like to keep him around. “Well it’s true, he only has good things to say about you.” She glances across the table and her face changes from captivated to surprise as if she had forgotten about her date. “Oh, I’m so sorry, this is Cameron Daniels. Cameron this is my mollycoddling big brother Jayden and his neighbor Drake.” The minute bit of British accent left from her childhood is accentuated when she uses the word

mollycoddling. Fuck, why couldn’t she be a snarlytoothed pudgy troll? That would make it so much easier to keep my distance. Why haven’t I ever seen pictures of her at his house? How could I have been living next door to this rare beauty and not have noticed her? “Nice to meet you, I’ve seen you around the base,” Cameron says offering his hand. I reach out to shake it when Jayden doesn’t. He’s pressing his lips together in a straight line and I know what he’s thinking. How the hell did she end up here with this dweeb? Cameron is tall and thin, too thin with angular facial features, thin hair and an awkward lopsided grin. He’s known on base as the weasel. I can’t imagine what she’s doing here with him. “Nice to meet you. How do you two know each other?” I ask because I want to know, but also for Jay. “We went to high school together. There aren’t

many people from my class left in Jewel Falls so I asked him out to catch me up.” “You have his phone number after three years?” Jayden asks. “Oh no, I bumped into Tiana at Parkers.” Parkers is a small grocery store in the town square. People go there for groceries but it’s also sort of a hangout. If you want to know somebody’s business just drop by Parkers and any one of a dozen gossips will fill you in, no problem. Jay seems to relax a little bit when he believes that this isn’t a date. “Do you two want to have a drink with us?” Tiana asks and I look at Jayden for guidance. I’d prefer to put miles of distance between this woman and myself, but this is Jayden’s game and I’m playing by his rules. “Yes, we would.” He slides into the booth next to his sister and I sit down with the weasel. I knew he

wouldn’t leave her alone with a guy no matter how unlikely it is that these two would end up in bed together. It strikes me as odd that on her first night home, she would go to a bar with a man she doesn’t know very well after her recent debacle in a New York club. At least I don’t think they know each other very well. I shouldn’t assume I guess but damn, if she went out with this guy in high school or college, I’ll eat my hat. A perky blonde waitress who reminds me of a cheerleader I dated years ago, approaches the table. “Hey, y’all, I’m Abigail, what are ya drinkin’ tonight?” She smiles a toothy smile and taps her pencil on a small pad of paper. I didn’t think anyone wrote on paper anymore. Everywhere you look these days, things have gone digital. “I’ll have a beer, whatever’s on tap and two shots of Wild Turkey,” Jayden says.

Tiana raises her eyebrows and does this thing with the corner of her mouth that makes my cock twitch. It’s almost a smirk but sexier, or maybe everything she does is sexy? I don’t know, but I’m starting to think of excuses to go home. “You trying to be worthless tomorrow, brother? I thought we were going to plant flowers and go shopping.” “I’ll be fine.” “How about you, handsome? You drinkin’?” Abigail asks and I turn to Cameron with a look of expectation. I don’t want it to seem like she’s talking to me, although I’m sure she is. I tip my head in Cameron’s direction, “Cam?” “Oh, uh yeah, I’ll have a Blue Moon. Thanks, Abigail.” My brain cringes, Blue Moon? Treehugger. “You got it, how about you?” Now I’m sure she’s talking to me. Her voice has lowered two octaves

and she is shamelessly batting her eyelashes and thrusting out her hip in my direction. “I’ll have a Corona.” “Ah, a party man, I like it. What about you, sweetie?” She asks Tiana still tapping her pencil on the paper, which she is not writing on. “I’ll have a Diet Coke, please.” “Bless your heart. You must be the DD.” She bites her full bottom lip and nods her head up and down once. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, ya hear?” I wonder where she thinks we will go but the thought disappears when Tiana’s foot brushes against my leg. I close my eyes for a moment and rest my back against the cool pleather of the booth. “You’re quite a supporter of this place, aren’t you?”

I frown and pain shoots through my sinuses. I might need to see a doctor tomorrow after all. “Your shirt,” she says nodding her head at my chest. “Ah, it wasn’t my first choice.” “That just happened?” “Yes. The bartender was kind enough to give me a clean shirt.” She narrows her eyes with suspicion and turns to Jayden. “You did that, didn’t you?” “What? Me? No.” “You’re a crappy liar. How could you punch your best friend? If that was about me, so help me, Jayden…” Her voice trails off with her threat and I avert my eyes to the big screen behind the bar. When she gets angry, her Brit accent comes out and when her accent comes out I have dirty thoughts

about my friend’s sister. “It had nothing to do with you, Tia. I got carried away about a bet we had on a game, that’s all.” His voice has softened. I think he’s afraid she will pack up and go back to New York if he pisses her off too much and from what I’ve seen so far, she just might. As conflicted as I am about her I don’t want her leaving either, so I go along with his crap story. “You lost, fair and square, you’re a rotten loser.” “Jay, you need anger management help if you’re punching your friends over a stupid baseball game.” “Yeah, maybe.” Abigail arrives with our drinks. She passes them out, making sure to reach across me to hand Cameron his beer giving me a close-up of her breasts straining against her white Drink at Al’s Tshirt. Normally I’d take that as an invitation and be

sure to gather her up at closing time but tonight her full bust does nothing for me. “I know a good therapist,” Cam perks up taking a drink of his beer. Of course he does, tree huggers are all about therapy. “No, thanks.” I watch a blood vessel in Jayden’s temple bulge to the beat of the music of the live band playing on the other side of the bar. If Cameron keeps making suggestions like that it’s going to burst. “It was an isolated incident. Hell, I’m surprised you have never done it before. We’ve been friends for what, seven years now?” I push a shot of Wild Turkey toward his hand and he tosses it back, hissing when it’s gone. “Yeah, about that long.” “So, you met when I went to college?” Tiana asks. “I was stationed here then and needed a house,

your brother told me about one on his block that was for sale and that was that.” “Where were you stationed before that?” “Hawaii for five years and Virginia for two.” She sighs and rests her back against the booth when I say Hawaii. “I’d love to live in Hawaii surrounded by all that beauty and sun.” “It was one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen, if you like the tropics it’s perfect.” “Don’t get her started. She’s wanted to live on an island since she was two.” “The UK was so depressing, all the dark skies and rain… nope, not for me. I need sun and beaches.” “New York wasn’t the place for you then.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I didn’t mean to drudge up bad feelings.

Her face dims but only for a second. “No, it definitely was not. I loved the hustle and bustle and all the people but I would have traded it all in a heartbeat for island life.” “Have you ever been to Bluebell Island? It’s not exactly tropical but it’s very beautiful –– waterfalls, laid back atmosphere, beaches,” I say. “I think my friend Lacy mentioned it in college, but no, I’ve never been. Maybe you guys can take me sometime soon.” “I’ve been there, Drake’s right, it’s gorgeous,” Cameron says, and the way he says gorgeous leads me to believe he may not be the heterosexual geek I thought he was. Maybe he’s just gay, which would be so much better. I need to think of a way to clear that up for Jayden. “You should take her, I hear it’s supposed to be beautiful weather all week,” I say to Cameron. Jayden’s eyes go wide and if I weren’t going blind I’d say Tiana’s bottom lip pouted ever so slightly

but that can’t be. Even if she were pouting there is nothing I can do about it. I’m not taking her to Bluebell Island. She would be scantily dressed due to the heat and one of the biggest attractions is the beach so there would be bikinis and sunscreen and alcoholic drinks… no. I mentally shake off the vision of this sumptuous woman nearly naked on the beach of one of my favorite places on earth. Jayden kicks me under the table and tosses back his second 100 proof shot of Wild Turkey and chases it with his beer. “I just saw Mason come in, didn’t you want to ask him about that meeting tomorrow?” Mason? Caption Mason Reeves? I’ve never seen him at Al’s. He’s trying to get rid of me and I think it’s a good time to make a break for it. The smell of Tiana’s skin is starting to seep into my brain cells and take over my thoughts. “Yes, I do, couldn’t get him on the phone all day. If

you’ll excuse me I need to talk to someone. It was a pleasure meeting you formally, Tiana.” I nod in her direction avoiding direct eye contact because one -- I can’t see her when I look straight at her and two -- I don’t need to see her anymore. The vision of her face is forever burned on the surface of my mind. “And it was good to meet you too, Cameron.” He touches my shoulder, “You too. Good luck with the promotion.” I scoot out of the booth catching Jayden’s eye as I go. He saw the touch. He gets it. But how does Cameron know about my promotion? “How do you know about that?” I tower over the booth at six-foot-four, casting a shadow over scrawny Cameron. “I’m an administrative clerk. A lot of paperwork comes across my desk.” He smiles wide and I’m surprised by how straight and white his teeth are. “I see.” I turn to Jayden, “Are you going to get home all right?”

Tiana cuts in before he can answer. “I’ll make sure of it, I’m not drinking.” “Very good.” I lean down to look Jayden in the eyes turning my head ever so slightly to look at him from my peripheral. “Try to play nice the rest of the evening.” He grunts and I hear Tiana snicker before I make my way out of Al’s. If I were in a bigger city I’d stop into the closest emergency room and have my nose looked after. But there is only one hospital here and I can’t risk anyone discovering my inevitable blindness. My Uber driver chats incessantly about nothing all the way home. I jump out of the Chevy Malibu and take a deep breath when he comes to a stop in front of my house. “Thanks, man, have a good night. Don’t forget to request me next time,” says the driver. The only request I’ll be making is to not have that annoying driver again. I nod and count my steps in the dark to the porch.

Seeing at night is the worst but I’ve learned over the years to adapt the way totally blind people do. I count steps in familiar places. I don’t rearrange my sparse furniture. I can read Braille and do most daily activities with my eyes closed. The only thing I have left to see about, no pun intended, is a guide dog. I contacted the people at Guide Dogs of America six months ago. My puppy has been at their training camp for a while now and in a few weeks, I will be secretly training alongside him. I have mixed feelings about that. Taking the class is the last step in admitting to myself that this is really going to happen. I can’t avoid it any longer. I can’t pretend it was a misdiagnosis or a temporary condition. I am going to be a blind man but not until I get that promotion.

CHA P T ER 7

Tiana

I CAN’T BELIEVE my stupid pigheaded brother is smashed. Thank God, the bartender Al helped me pour him into the Uber, but now that we’re home I don’t know what to do with him. Six foot of Marine muscle passed out cold. I’m in heels and barely tip the scale at 125 lbs.

The Uber driver isn’t much help. She’s staring straight ahead while I struggle with my brother in the back seat. “Hang on, I’m going to open the door. I’ll be right back.” “Don’t leave him here, I’ll have to call the police if you abandon him and he’ll go to jail.” I open the front passenger door and bend down to look at the pale, slight girl in the driver's seat. “Lady, you call the police you’ll have to deal with a bunch of pissed off Marines and me. I said I would be right back, what part of that don’t you understand?” She shifts in her seat and looks out her window away from me. “I’ll wait, but only for five minutes.” I slam the door shut and leave Jayden’s open. I click up the front steps and unlock the door, kick off my heels and slide my feet into a pair of flip

flops, dump my purse and head back to the car still unsure of how to get him inside. “Need some help?” A voice comes from the front porch of the house next door, Drake’s house. Thank you, God, for sending me help wrapped in such a gorgeous package. “Yes, please, he’s passed out and I can’t move him,” I say in a loud whisper so the neighbors don’t know our business. I don’t know why. They will anyway. It’ll be all over town in a few hours that Captain Williams was too drunk to get out of his Uber. I’m sure I’m the talk of the town as well. It wouldn’t surprise me if the headlines in the Jewel Falls Gazette today read Williams siblings bringing trouble to Jewel Falls. Ugh, stupid small towns. I can hear Drake’s steps as he crosses the wraparound porch of his house but I don’t see him until he emerges out from under the mammoth oak tree in his front yard.

His steps seem careful, planned and a little hesitant at first but when he catches sight of Jay’s right arm and head drooping out of the car he picks up speed. I try to keep my focus on my brother. Really, I do, but Drake is magnetic. It’s impossible to look at anything but him. Thankfully, his first priority is Jayden, as mine should be. He lifts him easily from the car and kicks the door shut. The Uber driver pulls away slowly, ducking down to catch an eyeful of Drake’s physique. I frown at her and jump off the lawn onto the sidewalk blocking her vision of Drake’s backside as if his virtue is mine to defend. I wish it were, but I’m sure he’s been sworn not to touch me with a billion-foot pole for all eternity. I love Jayden but he’s such a wanker. If he had things his way, I’d be locked up in the cellar reading books in bib overalls and pigtails forever. Inside Drake maneuvers around in the dark with ease, heading for the staircase that leads to our

bedrooms. “He is going to need some water and a couple of Ibuprofen when he comes around,” he says clomping up the stairs carrying Jayden. I switch on the light in the kitchen and rummage around for the medicine and a cold bottle of water. Upstairs, Drake has flopped Jay onto his bed and is taking off his boots in the dark. “Just put them on the nightstand over here, he can get it when he wakes up.” “Okay, but I can’t see, I need to turn on a light.” Drake stops unlacing for a moment, stands up and crosses the room taking the water and pills from my hands. “I really appreciate you helping. I’ve never seen him like this before.” “He doesn’t usually drink this way.” He looks at me sideways narrowing his eyes and I feel like he’s accusing me of something.

I wave my hand in the direction of the bed, “What? You think this is my fault?” “I’m not blaming anyone but Jayden for his actions. However, showing up at his favorite weekend hangout with a Marine like Cameron started a storm he couldn’t control. I’m sure you’re aware of his overprotectiveness. He doesn’t need goading. He’s a big enough mess without you helping.” “You’re siding with him? Seriously, this is how it’s been my whole life. I shouldn’t have come back.” I turn to leave but feel a warm strong hand take hold of my upper arm. “I’m not siding with anyone, just take it easy on him, okay. He loves you, and I can see why.” His eyes trail down my shoulder to where his hand is resting. We are so close I could lean in and kiss his perfect ample lips. I feel an irresistible tug between us, but Jayden stirs on the bed snapping the invisible thread pulling us together. He drops his hand and turns away to tend to

Jayden. I follow him through the dark at a slow pace compared to his comfortable stride. I feel around for the end table and sit the bottle of water and pills next to the lamp. I’m tempted to turn it on but something stops me. I can see Drake’s profile, he removes both boots and swings Jay’s legs onto the bed. He leaves him in his clothes and props him on his side with some pillows behind his back. Jayden moans but he stays where Drake positions him. “Don’t roll onto your back. Do you hear me?” Drake says with authority. Jayden moans and Drake accepts it as an agreement. “You should stay with him, or I can if you want me to. If he rolls onto his back, he could vomit and aspirate.” Drake is facing me in the dark. I can see the sharp angle of his jaw and broad shoulders. I recognize the smell of sandalwood on his skin from earlier tonight. His presence jumbles my thought process. I

think I know what I want to say, but nothing comes out. I need to tell him I’ll be fine watching my brother the rest of the night. I need to thank him for helping him inside and tell him goodbye. I should ask how his nose is feeling because I’m almost one hundred percent sure Jayden hit him because of me. But nope, I ask him to stay. “Maybe you should stay. I wouldn’t know what to do with him if he choked in his sleep.” What? Why did I say that? I know perfectly well what to do with a choking victim. I was a lifeguard at the beach all through high school. I’ve taken countless first aid and CPR classes. It’s like an alien is taking over my body, especially my mouth, and making me blurt out pathetic damsel-indistress comments. There’s tension in the air around him when I ask, but he pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed where he can watch Jayden’s face without a

word. “Thank you.” I see him nod in the shadows and I turn to leave. “Have you been drinking?” I stop with my hand on the doorknob, what’s it to him if I have? “No, why?” I ask. “I wanted to know if I should be checking on you too,” Drake answers. “No, I’ll be fine, thanks.” I turn to leave and he says, “Leave the door open.” I leave the door open without asking why and make my way to my old room. I flick on the light switch and squint. Even in the dark, I could find my way around in here, all my furniture is white, the bedspread is white, white carpet, everything. My bedroom almost glows in the dark. I think Jayden has some crazy idea that everything I do is pure and virginal, therefore, I must be surrounded by white.

Well, maybe he used to think that. He’s seen the videos of me in the clubs. I was furious with Suki for sending them, but I know she did it out of concern and Jayden was much more understanding and rational than I expected. Until now, that is. He’s going to kill himself trying to keep track of my whereabouts and every man I speak to. Poor Cameron, he’s just an old schoolmate not to mention that he’s gay and has no interest in me other than being friends. Jayden treated him like a criminal and the drunker he got the more annoying and embarrassing he was. Now thanks to his over-vigilance, I have his offlimits-sexy-ass best friend babysitting him down the hall, with the door open. I close my door and change into boxer shorts and a tank top. After I’ve brushed my teeth and washed my face, I crawl into my fluffy cloud of a bed and lie staring at the ceiling in the dark. I can’t get Drake out of my head. There’s something about him that’s different but I can’t

place it. He’s attractive, older, in perfect physical condition, he dresses well, he has a successful career and he seems to be the perfect blend of kind and authoritative. But, there is something vulnerable about him. I look at the time on my phone and toss it down in the bed next to me, three a.m. Why was Drake still up and outside at this hour? He left the bar at ten thirty last night. I wonder what he’s been doing for the past four and a half hours. I’d like to think he came home and started reading a book and became so engrossed that the next thing he knew it was three in the morning and he heard a car door so he came to see what was happening. More likely he had a date or a hook-up when he left Al’s and just got home and hadn’t gone to sleep yet. He’s too handsome to be spending his weekend nights alone. It doesn’t matter, Jayden won’t let me date while I’m here and especially his best friend… ever. I can’t even hang with a gay friend without him

going off. I like Drake, though, and I’m sure he was into me at least a little bit. I hate being treated like I’m still twelve, but like Drake said, he does it because he loves me and who can fault him for that?

CHA P T ER 8

Drake

I’M no stranger to staying up all night. I’ve had insomnia off and on since I was diagnosed with macular degeneration. The thought of going to sleep and waking up with no sight is terrifying no matter how prepared I am. Then I woke up a couple weeks ago, and the

dreaded gray blob in the center of my vision was darker. I haven’t slept more than two hours at a time since. I could take sleeping pills, no problem, but I don’t want to sleep. If I’m awake I know I have my sight, no surprises, no sudden bombs dropped. Watching my inebriated friend sleep, however, may just be the cure for my insomnia. If it weren’t for the fact that his sex-kitten sister was yards away sleeping in her bed, Jayden’s rhythmic snoring might have put me out. It’s six o’clock, the sun is up, and Jayden is still sleeping on his side softly snoring. I’m hungry and stiff. Usually, I’ve run five miles by this time and am making breakfast. I leave his room and take careful quiet steps down the hall toward the stairs but the closed door on my left, Tiana’s door, calls to me. She said she hadn’t been drinking and I believe her but I still want to check on her. Why? Maybe to make sure she didn’t get a wild hair and take off

last night because her brother lost his damn mind over her being out with a man, a gay man. No, I would have heard her doing that. I know why I want to see her, because she intrigues me. The way my chest tightens when she looks at me and the zing that shot up my arm when she shook my hand last night is like nothing I’ve ever felt. God, that sounds like a fucking heart attack, not intrigue. I must stay away from her, not only because Jayden will kill me but because she’s the closest thing to perfection I’ve ever seen and she deserves so much more than me. At the rate I’m going, I could be blind by the end of the year, and nobody that looks as good as she does should go unseen. I hesitate outside her door, no, yes, no… fuck, yes. Without making a sound, I turn the knob and push the door open a crack. I turn my head to the side to look for her but the bed is made up neat and tidy with throw pillows placed uniformly at angles. She’s gone. Fuck, could she have snuck out last night?

I open the door all the way and look around for something personal. This woman is either a neat freak or she’s packed up and gone like a whisper in the night. “What are you doing in here?” Her sharp accusing voice comes from behind me. She’s standing at the top of the stairs with one hand on her curved hip and the other on the curved railing. She’s dressed in shorts, an athletic tank top and coordinating running shoes. I can’t tell if she’s being fashionable or if she’s ready for a run. Either way, her stance and her clothing accentuate her beautiful breasts, which makes my cock twitch. If she weren’t so off limits, I’d have her underneath me in a heartbeat. “Looking for you,” I reply. Her eyebrows draw together in a frown and she drops her arms to her sides, more alert now. “Why? Is there something wrong with Jayden?”

“No, he’s sleeping like a baby. I was checking on you.” Her eyebrows flow from a frown into two high arches over her distinctive multicolored eyes. “What for? I told you I didn’t drink last night. I’m fine. Breakfast is ready in the kitchen if you’re hungry. I’m going for a run before it gets too hot.” She’s going running, great. I need to run and I’d love nothing more than to run just one stride behind her but I shouldn’t, I can’t. “How far do you run?” Why did I ask her that? I’m not supposed to get involved. “Back home I did five miles on a treadmill, it’s different running outside, though. The humidity slows me down.” “Impressive.” It’s easy to tell she’s not lying, the lean muscles in her legs say it all. I bite my tongue to keep from telling her I run five to ten miles every morning too. Chances are high that I’ll see

her out and about anyway. There aren’t many places to run and the few who do tend to take the same paths. “I’ve got to go. Jayden is going to feel like shit today, tell him not to worry about watching the game later.” She rolls her eyes and steps out of my way when I pass. “Yeah, now I get to do the yard work alone. Way to go, big bro.” With my back to her in the hall, I stop and close my eyes to take a deep breath. I am used to getting what I want. Keeping Tiana at a distance is like punishment for a crime I didn’t commit. Yet. “Come over when you’re ready and I’ll help you.” It’s not my fault he got so drunk he can’t help her plant her flowers. “You don’t have…” She begins and without looking back I raise my hand in the air signaling

that there is no room for argument. When I reach the front door, I open it and glance back up the stairs where she is still standing with her mouth agape holding the railing. I chuckle and saunter home to run on the treadmill. I’m already pushing it by offering to help her with the yard work, no sense in torturing myself further by bumping into her on a trail where no one is around. I’m a good friend but I’m no saint.

CHA P T ER 9

Tiana

THE RHYTHMIC THUMPING of my feet against the pavement usually distracts me from my worries but today it’s accentuating them. Drake is going to help me plant flowers this afternoon and when Jayden finds out he will finish breaking his face. I need to come up with an excuse

to bow out if he will accept one that is. His arrogant exit this morning had me all kinds of turned on and pissed off. Even with a bruised-up face and no sleep, he was the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on and easily the sexiest. I’m slipping. I can almost see myself falling off Jayden’s giant white pillar for him. I can’t do it, though, he’s being gracious enough to let me move back home temporarily and I can’t disrespect him like that, it’s not who I am. But Drake makes me wish I were. A woman with a golden retriever is running along the path ahead of me. Maybe I need a dog? It would give me something to take care of and focus on while I figure out my next move. A shelter dog would be perfect, I’ll save it and maybe it will save me from myself. Ha, not likely. An hour later, I fall into the house and stand in the foyer bent over with my hands on my knees panting. I pushed myself hard and ran much further

than I usually do. Wonder why? Oh, maybe a sexy Marine, named Drake had something to do with it? Sexual frustration is a bitch. I haven’t been with anyone in months. I’m not into sex without feelings. I don’t do hookups. My last boyfriend was a bouncer at The Aquarium named Mason. I liked him a lot, for a while. We dated for six months and when we started spending most of our dates at the gym and I caught him flirting with his hands at work, we went our separate ways. Drake has me considering sex without feelings. I wonder if horny is considered a feeling? If it is then I’ve got a lot of “feelings” for Drake. “How was your run?” Jayden is standing at the top of the curved staircase watching me gasp for breath and fantasize about his best friend. “Great, it’s so damn hot here, though. I’ll have to start earlier from now on.” “See anybody you knew out there?”

I stand up straight and put my hands on my hips. “What do you mean by that?” “I mean did you run into anybody you know?” “No, Jayden. I didn’t run into anyone other than a woman with a golden retriever. I want a dog by the way. Did you find your breakfast?” “A dog?” I knew that would throw him. “Yes, a shelter dog, can we go and look tomorrow?” He sighs and leans hard against the railing. “Yeah, I guess so. Are you sure?” “Absolutely.” I nod my head once and my ponytail bobs up and down. “So, did you eat or not?” “Don’t talk about food. I appreciate the effort but I can’t. I took the Ibuprofen you left me, though, thanks.” “You shouldn’t drink so much.”

“Yep.” “Go back to bed and sleep it off. I’ll clean up the kitchen.” “Thanks, love you.” “I love you, too.” I’m glad he didn’t mention our plans for today because I’m spending the afternoon digging in the dirt with Drake. I hear him pad to his room and close the door. I’m starving, breakfast is long since cold but I heat up some bacon and eggs and wolf it down before I hit the shower. If I were working in the yard with my brother as planned, I’d stay in my sweaty running clothes. I shouldn’t be so pleased about spending time with Drake. Maybe we can be friends. I mean it’s possible for a man and a woman to have a platonic relationship, right? Wrong. Not with someone who looks like him.

I shower and pull my hair into a wet knot on my head. Dressed in a pair of cut-offs and a tank top, I slide my feet into a pair of Gucci flip flops that Mason gave me for my birthday. One good thing about Mason, besides the sex, was that he knew how to give a gift. It’s mid-morning, I have hours before I start working outside so I grab my laptop and sit on a barstool at the island to look for a job, and a dog. Ten minutes later with no job and no dog, I risk checking a few of my social media accounts. I hope enough time has gone by that the videos are buried in the club's archives and new scandals have popped up to titillate the masses. I scroll up and down the feed and smile at some of the goofy posts and videos. It feels good to smile again. I’ve been so stressed out lately and it's been forever since I’ve had anything to smile about. The familiar ding of Messenger draws my attention to the bottom of the screen where someone has sent me a video link. It’s from someone named B. Love.

That doesn’t sound creepy or anything. I should ignore it. I should click the x in the top corner and leave it alone. I should do a lot of things that I don’t. I click on B’s profile and find no pictures, a blank cover photo and a black profile pic with simple white text that says Watch It. I close the laptop and push it across the island like it’s on fire. This isn’t over and it wasn’t just some club footage, somebody is out to hurt me on purpose. I need to talk to Suki. My phone is upstairs. I take them two at a time and close the door to my room to make the call. I sit on the edge of the bed and press dial under the cute picture of her and me at work one night goofing around behind the bar. “Tiana? I’m so glad you called. How’s small town life treating ya? Are you ready to kill your brother yet?” My words catch in my throat. I can’t talk. “T? You there?” Suki asks worriedly.

I clear my throat and try again, “Yeah, sorry.” I hear her shuffling around like she’s sitting up in bed. She’s still working nights, I didn’t even think about waking her up. “I woke you, didn’t I? You can call me back later if you want.” I feel bad disturbing her sleep to hold my hand through this stupid scare. “Tiana, I don’t want to go back to sleep. You called me and clearly something’s wrong, so let me have it. What’s going on?” “You sure?” “Yes, talk.” “I haven’t been online for a few days and I just logged into Facebook to see if things had blown over.” “Yeah, and you saw that they have, right? I haven’t seen a video for over a week.” “Well, sort of. I didn’t see anything in my feeds but someone sent me a video.”

“They sent it? Like personally?” “Yeah.” “Who?” “I don’t know who it is, the screen name says B. Love and there’s virtually no account like it was made just to do this.” “What’s on the video?” “I didn’t watch it.” “You probably should. You know, before this person starts posting it all over the place. It could be the same person who did it the first time.” “I’m scared of what I might see.” She’s quiet for a moment. I can almost hear her thinking. “So, there’s nothing on their page?” “No, just a profile pic that says watch it.” “Watch it? That’s creepy, you want me to do it for you?”

“I want it to go away.” “I know, honey, but you have to know what you’re up against; you can’t hide from it.” “I will, later or maybe Jayden will do it for me. Whoever it is was watching for me to get online to send it. It can’t be anything good, the account looks like it was made with one thing in mind, to torture me. What did I do, Suki? Why would anyone want to do this?” “You didn’t do anything. People are psycho. Maybe it’s a scared jealous contestant from Just Sing making sure you aren’t on the show?” “Well, they’ve already done that. There’s no chance of me competing now, why keep bothering me?” “You have to watch the video and find out.” I flop down on the bed with a huff and close my eyes. “Alright. I’ll let you know what it’s about.”

“Now?” “No, I told you I need some time.” “Well, don’t take too long. Whoever it is knows you were online and they probably think you watched the video. Are you going to respond?” I throw my arm over my eyes and groan, “I don’t know, really I have no idea what I’m doing. That’s why I called you.” “Yes, and I’m telling you I think you should watch it. Maybe it won’t be that bad and you can tell them to shove their damn videos where the sun don’t shine.” “I doubt that. I’m hanging up now. I’ll call you later.” “If you don’t I’ll call you.” “Okay, bye… and Suki?” “Yeah?”

“Thanks.” “I didn’t do much but you’re welcome. That’s what best friends are for.” “I’m glad you’re my friend. I’ll call you soon, bye.” “Bye.” I drop the phone on the bed and roll over into the fetal position. How can someone with no enemies become the target of such harassment? I’ve been nothing but kind and generous to everybody I’ve ever known. I wracked my brain in New York trying to figure out who might hate me enough to do something like this. I couldn’t think of a single person. I wake up to the sound of a lawn mower. I must have been more tired than I thought and dropped off to sleep. Shit, what time is it? I grab my phone and flip it over. It’s three o’clock, great. I had planned on going to Drake’s house around one. I hope Jayden is still asleep.

I sit up and the reason I was up here comes rushing back to me. That damn video and my call to Suki. No time to dwell on that now, I’ll watch it later, if I watch it at all. Downstairs I find no evidence that Jayden’s been up, perfect. When I pass the front window, I see Drake is already outside. He’s who I heard mowing. He’s heart-stopping in just his athletic shorts and tennis shoes, nothing else. He glistens in the sun as he is covered with sweat and I consider pulling up a chair and watching until he’s done. Who needs a job? I could sell tickets and provide refreshments once a week to watch him mow the grass and make a fortune. He mows an intricate diagonal pattern one direction and starts repeating it from the opposite corner making a checkerboard. I’m going out, that looks like it’ll take forever and I’m already behind. I also want a closer look at his sexy rippling back and chest. I step outside and the humidity and heat hit me like

poison gas. I take several breaths to acclimate my body to the smothering moist heat and walk around back to the shed where Jayden keeps the gardening tools. It’s darker in the shed and cooler. When my eyes adjust, I gather what I need and move to the back patio where flats of flowers and plants are waiting to be planted. “Starting without me?” The deep timbre of his voice causes gooseflesh to rise on my skin in the ninety-degree weather. The way my body reacts to him is off the charts crazy. I’ve never felt this before. “I could say the same for you.” I nod my head in the direction of his sweaty abs and turn back to my flowers. No need to look pathetic even though I kind of am. “I’ve been working in my own yard, just a little cleanup.” “Looks more like a human sized checkerboard to

me.” “It’s called lawn striping and it’s on the diagonal. You can’t play checkers on it. You’re quite sassy, aren’t you?” Sassy? I’ve never been accused of being sassy, but yes, something about Drake makes me want to sass him. “Just stating the obvious.” I tip a tray of hydrangeas over in my hand and loosen the roots. “Stand up.” I’m squatting down with a plant in my hands covered in dirt. “No. I’m not ready yet.” “You’re ready and you’re doing that wrong.” He moves behind me and slides his arms under my armpits to lift me out of the way like a child. “I was not. I’ve been planting flowers my whole life, I know what I’m doing.” He moves around the patio gathering the flats into a

wheelbarrow without responding. I want to protest and put my foot down. This is my yard after all and my project. But Drake in motion is mesmerizing. He glances sideways at me and chuckles and I want to kick him in his sexy-ass shins. “Come on, you’re putting these out front.” I am, am I? Now how does he know that? Maybe I want some of those planted back here. I follow him in a huff to the front yard gawking at his tanned back and firm ass. He stops and turns to me with expectant eyes. “So how do you want this to go?” “You’re asking me now how I want my flowers arranged? A second ago you claimed you knew.” “I didn’t mean the layout, I mean this arrangement. Are you going to be cooperative or are you going to be a brat?” My arms come up crossing over my chest in my typical defensive stance and a huff escapes my

lips. “Okay, I see. Would you like me to leave?” Fiery defiance rises in my chest and I want to tell him to go blow himself but a pulsing desire also settles between my legs. I don’t know what to do, I want him but I also want to smack him. My newfound sassy side takes over and I wave my hand toward his house. “You can go, I don’t need you.” He turns his head to the side and his mouth drops open. I cock my head to the side and grin as wide as the Golden Gate Bridge. “Okay, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” He saunters across his lawn striped yard and disappears into his house. The nerve of that man! Now I see why Jayden doesn’t want me to get involved. Are you going to be cooperative or a brat? I say,

repeating his words under my breath with my upper lip curled and the rest of my face twisted in irritation. I got this, screw him. A teeny tiny voice in the back of my mind says, Yes! Please do! I groan and set to work emptying the flowers and plants from their flats and arranging them on the ground where I want them. It takes a lot longer than I anticipated; getting everything perfectly placed. I had to lift big heavy bags of wood chips into the wheelbarrow and bring them around front along with some landscaping brick. I work much harder than I would have if Drake hadn’t suggested I couldn’t do this alone. I’m in great shape but I know I’m going to be hurting tomorrow. I straighten up a couple hours later and wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm. The July sun is scorching hot, but thankfully, I have an enormous oak tree to shade me. That big-ass tree is keeping me from having heat stroke.

I glance up to the second floor of the house and curse my brother for sleeping all day like I was praying he’d do earlier. How could I have been so wrong about Drake? He seemed perfectly polite and well-mannered last night at… Wait, what if he’s being an ass because Jayden wants him to? If he is, that’s really fucked up. I don’t think that’s it, though. Being cocky comes along with being a Marine. God knows, I’ve met a few hundred of them and every single one had a dash of jerkoff in his personality trait book. How am I going to tell? I reach for my bottle of water and it feels like someone’s watching me. I take a long drink, set it down, straighten up and jump when I see Drake ten feet from me hauling a bag of wood chips from the ground. He’s freshly showered and shaven and even from this distance, I smell the familiar scent of sandalwood on his skin. He doesn’t say a word and he doesn’t make eye contact. He just rips the plastic and shakes the

twenty-pound bag’s contents into the wheelbarrow like he’s pouring sugar into a canister. I frown and place my hand on my hip but he keeps on ripping bags open and dumping them out like I’m not here. I bristle with irritation, but unlike earlier I’m worn out. I wouldn’t deny the Devil’s help at this point. I just want to be done. He lifts the handles and steers around to the back of my landscaping and tips it up pouring the chips onto the black weed barrier cloth. I slap my hands on my hips and sigh, heading over to help him spread them around the plants. If ya can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. We work together for a long time never speaking and using hand gestures to communicate when something’s not even enough or a spot needs more chips. We’re almost finished before I notice the time. It’s dusk, at least eight thirty in the evening.

“Oh, my gosh, it’s getting dark,” I say breaking the silence. “You worked hard, I didn’t give you enough credit. Nice job, Firecracker.” Ha, at least he can admit when he’s wrong but what’s with the nickname? “Firecracker?” He leans against a shovel in his hands, cocks his head to the side and devours me with a head to toe perusal. I feel the heat of a blush rising up my neck and spreading across my cheeks. “Hot, feisty, sassy… Firecracker.” He lifts one corner of his lip in a smirk when he sees my blush and I want to turn around and march into the house. “So, you think you’ve got me all figured out, do you?” “Yep, pretty much,” he agrees. “Well, for your information I’m not usually any of

those things. I’m a very sensible, calm, levelheaded woman.” “Really? Why did you move home then?” “What do you mean by that?” “I mean if you’re so level-headed how did you end up in online videos drunk off your ass?” I gasp and my mouth hangs open. I cannot believe he just brought that up and threw it in my face like that. I was right, he’s a cocky asshole and I don’t want anything to do with him. I pull off my garden gloves and throw them on the ground, turn on my heel and stomp up the stairs of the patio and into the house slamming the door as loudly as I can. He calls after me, I think he may have even apologized, but I’m seeing red right now and I need to be alone. I tromp up the stairs, passing Jayden on the way to my room. He asks what’s wrong, but I ignore him and slam door number two

when I get into my bedroom. Hot tears spring into my eyes as I head to the shower. Time to get cleaned up and watch that damn video.

CHA P T ER 10

Drake

I’VE NEVER DENIED that I can be a controlling asshole. I believe it’s one of my strongest assets as a Marine. I do, however, know how to treat a lady so I can’t figure out for the life of me why I brought up Tiana’s situation in New York like that. The nickname came out of nowhere, but it fits what

little I know of her so far. She is fiery and feisty and sassy, three things that I find incredibly attractive. So why won’t she admit it? Is she really the calm cool-headed woman she claims to be? Could it be that I bring out another side of her that she’s not comfortable with? Maybe. I curse under my breath while I gather the empty bags and flats off the lawn. She’s going to own the nickname Firecracker if it’s the last thing I do. “What the hell did you do to my sister, man?” I straighten up and find Jayden standing at the top of the porch steps with his hands on his hips like a mother hen. Fuck, I don’t need this right now, my face still aches from his right hook last night and I’ve been working outside for hours. I’m spent and ready for a beer and some peace and quiet now that little ‘Miss Calm and Collected’ has ditched me with clean-up duty.

“Nothing, she took something I said wrong, that’s all. And before you fly off the handle, I wasn’t propositioning her. I’ve been helping her out here all day in your place because you can’t handle your liquor.” He clomps down the stairs and across the lawn red-faced and breathing hard. He stops directly in front of me -- chest to chest, he asks again, “What did you do to my sister?” He puffs out his chest and I lean forward challenging him to a fight with my posture. If he wants to go rounds over his sister, he can be my guest, but I’m not holding back this time. I can beat his ass into the ground and he knows it. “I told you, it was a misunderstanding. Are we going to end our friendship over this shit, Jayden? Because every time I turn around lately you’re challenging me, threatening to punch me or actually raising your fist to me and I’m starting to take it personally.”

“She just came storming into the house slamming doors and she won’t talk to me. I see you out here in the yard when I told you she was off limits and you say it was a misunderstanding? I’m gonna need more of an explanation than that.” “Well, that’s all your getting so if you want to throw the first punch go ahead because I won’t.” Now he’s perplexed, I can see it in his eyes. This guy needs to get over his obsession with protecting his sister’s virtue. I get that he feels the need to look out for her but he’s taking it too far. She’s twenty-five years old for fuck’s sake. He must know after seeing the videos of her online that she’s not pure as the driven snow. Maybe that’s it? Maybe he’s so overwrought about having his vision of her ruined that he feels the need to valiantly protect her. “Look, Jay, I know you’re upset about what happened with Tiana in New York but…” He raises his fist to hit me but I’m ready for him this time. I block it with one hand pushing him away

with a force that takes him by surprise. “Like I was saying, I know you’re upset but if you want to help her you need to back off and let her live her life. Be her friend, her brother, and stop acting like she’s still twelve years old. It seems to me that she could use a shoulder to lean on instead of fists flying to protect her honor.” He steps back and lowers his fist. He’s still wound up tight but I reached him. “You think she needs to talk?” “I don’t know her very well, Jayden, but it seems like she’s scared and confused.” He’s looking at the ground between us considering what I’ve said. “You weren’t out here earning brownie points so you can get into her pants today?” I raise my eyebrows and shrug. I’m not going to lie to him, the thought has occurred to me even if I swore not to touch her.

“Drake, swear to me that you won’t touch her. I’ll try to back off and give her some room to breathe but falling into bed with you isn’t going to solve anything.” I want to tell him it might, but I’ve pushed far enough for one day and there’s a chance Tiana won’t want to fall into bed with me for a while after I insulted her today. I don’t really believe that. She feels the electricity in the air between us. She might be angry now, but she will forgive me when I apologize, I’m sure of it. “I won’t make any advances on your sister, Jayden, I promise. Now go inside and see if she wants to talk.” I’m surprised he didn’t notice that I didn’t say I would refuse her if she makes an advance on me. I’ll be sure to bring that up when she does. He turns and trudges back toward the porch stopping for a moment to look at what Tiana and I

accomplished today. “Nice work,” he says more out of obligation than anything. “She did most of it by herself. I only helped spread the wood chips and place the bricks.” “Thanks,” he mumbles. “No problem.” The screen door squeaks and he disappears inside the house. I’m glad he valued our friendship enough to see things my way. In my experience, my way is the best way. Now I must make Tiana believe that too, and she will.

CHA P T ER 11

Tiana

I ONLY ALLOWED myself five minutes to cry. Nothing is worth more than five minutes except maybe the death of a loved one. Those tears never really stop. I’m sitting at my old dressing table pressing on the bags under my eyes with my fingertips, looking in the mirror with my hair wrapped in a towel. A soft

knock on my door pulls my attention away from my stressed-out skin. “Yeah?” “Can I come in?” It’s Jayden, of course it is, who else would it be? It certainly wouldn’t be Drake coming inside to apologize. Not that my brother would allow him past the front door after witnessing my hissy fit a while ago. I heard him go outside and watched them through the window fully prepared to go down and break up a fight if it came to that. I didn’t know how I was going to go about breaking up a fist fight between two Marines but I would have given it my best try. I jumped when Jayden raised his fist to punch Drake again and my blood boiled. Why suddenly did he think violence was the way to solve problems? We have always talked things out and come to a reasonable conclusion together. Not anymore. There’s nothing amicable about the

way he defends me. He’s just angry and out of control. “Come in.” I tip my head forward and shake my hair free of the towel. When I sit up Jayden has entered and is sitting on the edge of the bed behind me. We can see each other in the mirror. “The yard looks great, you did an awesome job.” “Thanks.” We sit in silence staring at one another. Is that all he wants? “Are you okay? You seemed pretty mad earlier.” Okay, that’s different. I was expecting him to come charging in here and ask what Drake had done to piss me off so much. “Sorry, bad day I guess.” “You wanna talk about it?” “Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

He looks out the window and back at me through the mirror. “I’ve been an ass, T, and I’m sorry. This whole thing has me so mad that I’m directing my anger in all the wrong places. I want to be here for you. I promise to give you some space if you promise to tell me if there’s anything I can do.” I turn around on the white padded leather bench and look him in the eyes. “There is something you can do for me. It’s not going to be easy but I’m scared to do it alone.” He leans forward and takes my hands in his. “I said anything, I mean anything. You look terrified, what’s going on?” “You know how I thought the videos were about Just Sing?” “Yeah, and now you don’t?” I lower my gaze to my bare feet and stare at my perfectly manicured toenails.

“T… what aren’t you telling me? Are you starting to remember things?” “No, but…” I stand and pad across the room to get my laptop. When I’m back on the stool I open it and type in my password bringing up the screen with the video. “This morning I got online to look for a job and decided to check a couple social media accounts.” “Aw, Tiana, why’d you do that? That’s just askin’ for trouble.” “I didn’t think so. I mean if someone was trying to get rid of the competition they got what they wanted, I’m out.” “So, you saw something else?” “Not exactly. Someone sent me a message.” “Who?” “I don’t know, the profile didn’t have anything on it but the words watch it.”

“No pictures or information?” I shake my head. “So, someone’s telling you to watch it like a warning?” “No, they sent a video.” He sighs, stands and paces back and forth in front of me. With one arm crossed over his chest and his hand cradling his chin his eyes glaze over and he seems a million miles away. It feels like forever until he snaps back to reality. “Is it more of the same night?” “I don’t know, I haven’t watched it. That’s what I was hoping you’d do.” He stops in front of me and drops his arms. “What if it’s worse that the others?” “That’s what I’m afraid of. Please, Jay, I can’t watch it alone. At least sit with me while I do, you

don’t have to look and I’ll put the sound down.” His eyes get misty and guilt flows through my veins. This whole thing is killing him as much as it is me. But this way, he won’t have to see anything and I’ll have some support. “Alright, I’ll watch it with you. Scoot over.” He places his hand on my shoulder and I move to give him enough room to put half of his ass on the small seat next to me. I take a deep breath and slide the cursor over the play button and click it. It starts like a movie unlike the footage from the bar cameras. The words smart girl pop up on the screen and Jayden and I look at each other. Next are the words whatever you do. The video fades to black and then it starts flashing don’t ignore this. The words pulse to eerie background music that reminds me of an old vampire movie. “What the hell is this?”

I’m frozen, I can’t respond because my eyes are glued to the messages scrolling across the screen. I’m watching you. Behave or there will be consequences. I know what happened. And then a woman on the music track screams and I push the laptop into Jayden’s lap. I’m not frozen anymore. I’m a ball of nervous energy walking around the room aimlessly with my hands over my ears. Warm strong hands on my shoulders stop me in my tracks and I realize it was me that was screaming, not the music track from the video. “Tiana, stop! You’re going to scare the neighbors. It’s going to be okay, it’s just a video.” Wide-eyed I stare at him. “How can you say that? Didn’t you read that?” I point at the abandoned laptop on my bed.

“Yes, of course, I did. It’s just somebody trying to scare you. I don’t know why but we’ll get to the bottom of it. I’ll call the police and take your computer to a computer genius I know and have him go through it with a fine-toothed comb.” “I’ve never done anything to anyone, why would they want to harass me like this? It doesn’t make any sense, Jay, it doesn’t make sense…” My words trail off as I begin to cry and he envelops me into his arms. “Shush, I know. You’re a good person. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just some whacko messing around, must be. You’re shaking like a leaf, I think you need to lie down.” He leads me to my bed where he pulls back the quilt and I slide under it and look up at him. “I’ll admit that’s some off-the-wall shit. I’m just glad there were no pictures or videos of you…” I groan and turn onto my side with my back to him. I know what he’s trying to say. He’s my brother and

he can’t speak the words out loud and neither can I. He’s glad it’s not a video of some stranger raping me. I’m relieved about that, too, but who’s to say that person doesn’t still have something like that? The doorbell rings followed by frantic knocking. I sit up in bed and reach for Jayden’s hand. “Who’s that?” “It’s probably someone who heard you scream. I’ll go see, will you be okay here for a minute?” I don’t think I’ll ever be okay alone again but I nod my head and he drops my hand but I stop him. “Wait, you don’t think it’s the person from the video, do you?” He looks at me like I’m crazy and now I feel crazy. No computer terrorist is going to show up on my doorstep, that’s ridiculous. I think. “No, honey, I’m sure it’s probably Mr. Lang from across the street. He’s the neighborhood gossip; you don’t know him, he moved in two years ago.”

“Okay, come right back, though.” “Of course, lie down I’ll be right back.” The pounding on the door is more insistent, I shoo him from the room so he can calm poor old Mr. Lang. “Hang on, I’m coming!” he yells when he’s in the hallway. Bang, bang, bang. “Keep your hat on!” I sit up and strain to hear him open the door. When he does it’s not an elderly man’s voice I hear, it’s Drake’s and he’s flipping out. “Where is she?” he yells. “What the hell, man?” The sound of the men scuffling in the foyer has me on my feet and scrambling down the stairs. “Stop,” I yell and both men look up.

“See, she’s fine,” Jayden says wiggling under Drake’s arm that is shoved up under his chin pinning him to the wall. “Let him go, what the hell?” “I heard you screaming bloody murder over here. What the fuck’s going on? I almost called the police.” “I saw a big spider crawling across my bed, it scared the piss out of me. Would you please let my brother breathe?” Drake looks at Jayden like he’s forgotten all about him and releases him. His hands fly to his neck and he gasps for air. “A spider?” Drake asks with suspicion in his tone. “Yes, it was as big as a damn mouse.” A shiver runs up my spine at the thought of an actual spider that big, I hate spiders. “Goddammit, man, you were gonna strangle me to death over a fucking spider.”

“It sounded like you were hurt,” Drake says moving up the stairs with a strange tilt of his face looking me over for injuries. “And you thought I was hurting her? What the fuck man?” “No, but you wouldn’t let me see for myself.” “Dude, there’s nothin’ to see. I wasn’t just going to let you go up to my sister’s bedroom to check on her. I told you she’s fine.” “You looked like you were lying.” “Jayden wouldn’t lie about something like that.” I feel the need to defend my brother, but in a way, he was lying because I am most certainly not fine. Physically yes, emotionally I’m a total wreck. Drake reaches me on the stairs and I can feel the anxiety rolling off his body. He was really scared for me. I don’t even remember screaming until the very end, it must have been blood-curdling. A little part of me feels sorry for him but then I remember

how rude he was earlier and poof, no more pity. He reaches up and lightly touches my cheek, “You look pale.” I should pull away but I can’t. He lowers his eyes to my trembling arm holding the banister, “And you’re shaking.” When he looks back up he holds me captive with his eyes. His eyes--something about them ignites worry in my heart. Not just right now, but every time I’ve looked into them, I get a sense that he’s holding something back. There is a distinct suffering combined with pride in his pale blue eyes. He has the palest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, like clear marbles that have a reflective slice of blue in the center. “She’s scared of spiders. What’s so weird about that?” Jayden says, coming up the steps behind Drake and removing his hand from my face. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Now that he’s not touching me I can speak. “I’m fine, just shaken up a bit. You can go now.” I turn and

take one step when Drake grabs my wrist and I whirl around and glare at him. “Let me go.” He does without a moment of hesitation. His brows are knit together tight and his expression is loaded with unnecessary concern. What is with these men and their overprotectiveness? I’m not a damn China doll. Inside my room, I close the door and press my ear against it. I can hear them talking but I can’t make out the words. It’s good that they are talking and not yelling. The door closes and Jayden returns, shaking his head. He points at me, “You need to stay away from that man. He’s not good for you. He has problems, T, big problems. And he’s a complete player, he will never commit to one woman.” “I don’t appreciate you telling me who I can and can’t date but it’s irrelevant. There’s no way I’d date him, he’s an ass.” He looks relieved. Then he cocks his head and

narrows his eyes. “Why do you say that? What did he say to you today?” “Nothing, I can just tell. He has that bad boy aura about him. I recognized it right away. I’ve been watching guys like that take home a different girl every night for years.” “Yeah, that’s Drake all right. Hey, are you hungry? Wanna order some pizza?” He believes my lie. It’s not a total lie, I can spot a player from a mile away and Drake has all the characteristics. But there’s a sort of vulnerability in his eyes that most players don’t have. My stomach growls answering his question and I shrug my shoulders. “I guess I am, yeah, pizza sounds good, where are you ordering from?” “This isn’t New York, nothing’s open twenty-four hours. I’ll make homemade pizza.” I guess I haven’t adjusted to small-town living yet. I loved that there’s nothing you can’t have any time

of day or night in New York. “Okay, need help?” “Nah, I got it. You wanna come downstairs and watch TV or somethin’ while I cook? “Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks for being such a great brother.” His face softens into the one I’ve known all my life. He’s had an angry mask on ever since I arrived. Like he’s pissed at the world for doing me wrong. I wish he could understand it’s not the world that’s gotten me into this mess, it’s me. Maybe I should have listened to him and stayed closer to home after graduation. Maybe I should have gotten a safe average job somewhere in Jewel Falls, settled down with some nice man and had a baby. If I had, I sure wouldn’t be dealing with a psycho online-terrorist and humiliating videos of myself in social media.

I also would have never known if I could make it as a professional singer. If the Big Apple taught me anything, it was that I can’t.

CHA P T ER 12

Drake

A SPIDER as big as a mouse, my ass. Something’s not right, I can feel it. But if those two want to pretend it’s not I’ll play along. I get a ping in my email box when I walk through my front door. The smell of bacon hangs in the air and the cool dry air-conditioned air welcomes me

home. The BLT’s I made this afternoon smell like a good idea again. They wouldn’t taste as good as they did earlier, though. Those I ate on the porch while I watched Tiana sweat in her sexy cut-offs and envied the fringe sticking to her legs. I slip my phone from my pocket and open it. It’s an update from the training school for service dogs. Attached are three pictures of the little shit rolling around in the grass. It says he’s doing great and that they’re ready to see me in two weeks. Am I ready for this? Fuck no. Do I have a choice? Another resounding no. Accepting this dog into my life feels like giving up. I drop my arm to my side and think of something else, something much better than going blind. Tiana. I shouldn’t even be thinking about her the way I have been. I’m going to be a retired blind Marine someday soon. Starting something with her is selfish. Even I know that. The weird thing is I’ve never considered “starting

something” with anyone before. I have a lot of friends with benefits but no one has ever left a lasting impression. We fulfill each other’s needs and go about our lives. There are some who would like it to be more but they know it never will be. I sit on the couch and respond to the email thanking them for the update. I want to add I’m not blind just yet but I don’t. I lean my head back and look up at the vaulted ceiling where a wispy spider’s web dangles unattached from a wide wooden beam. Fucking spider. I wonder if it’s as big as a mouse? Now that I think about it more, that’s the stupidest story I’ve ever heard. I want to storm back over there and demand the truth but I don’t think bullying Tiana into telling me will work. Maybe some reverse psychology? Whenever we’re together she’s defensive and abrasive with her words but her body betrays her. She blushes and fidgets, her pulse pounds on the side of her neck and her eyes dart away from me when I try to look

into them. Tomorrow morning I’m going running like usual but this time I’m going to wait for Tiana and apologize. Whether I’m trying to start something with her or not, I was an ass today. I owe her that much. When she forgives me, and she will, I’ll work on getting her to tell me the truth about her Alfred Hitchcock Psycho moment tonight. Now that I know what she doesn’t like, being called a firecracker and talking about the videos that sent her packing from New York, and spiders, I can focus on finding out what she does like.

MONDAY MORNINGS ARE OFTEN my favorite day of the week because I crave routine, and after a whole 48-hour weekend of free time is almost too much. It’s early and I’m dressed to run watching out the

window for Tiana to exit her house. I don’t have to wait for long, she bounds down the stairs at 5:30 a.m. but she’s not alone. Jayden is five steps behind her. She doesn’t look happy when she stops to stretch by the hundred-year-old oak tree in their yard. He isn’t speaking to her and she seems to be in a world of her own preparing for her run. Jayden hates to run. I know because I’ve asked him to join me a hundred times over the years. He does it at the gym on the treadmill. He considers it work that he must get done and I think of it as therapeutic and enjoyable. Something tells me the fact that he’s running with her today is related to that scream last night. She’s afraid and it’s not of a spider. She finishes her warm-up and starts off jogging down the street without a glance at her brother. He looks up and takes off after her a few seconds later. She’s already halfway down the block and

she hasn’t even hit her stride. She’s quick and graceful like a gazelle dashing across the savannas and the urge to follow her is powerful. I’ll try again tomorrow, there’s no sense trying to apologize in front of Jayden. He’ll only think I’m trying to get her into bed. I give them a fifteenminute head start, I don’t usually leave until six anyway and I’m betting Jayden knows that and that’s why they’re headed out so early. It’s warm out this morning, warmer than usual for this time of day. It’s going to be a scorcher I can tell already. I take off down the sidewalk at a slow jog and feel the stretch of my muscles lengthening with every stride. It’s frustrating to run with a gray dot in the center of my vision. I can tell where I’m going from my peripheral but I’m always concentrating on my steps and surroundings where I used to listen to music, relax and let my mind go blank on a long run.

The people at Guide Dogs of America tell me it will be easier with my dog and I hope they’re right. I don’t want to be stuck inside on a treadmill listening to the TV while I run for the rest of my life. I run through town where small shop owners are arriving to work and exit to a path through some woods that’s beautiful to run on. It’s not the way I usually go but I feel like mixing it up today. Twenty minutes later I see two people running ahead of me. It’s impossible not to recognize Tiana’s lush round ass and Jayden’s battalion tshirt and sloppy running form. They must be taking it slow. I can’t believe I caught up to them however unintentionally. I didn’t think they would choose this route. It’s winding and rough and woodsy, all the things Jayden hates. Unless Tiana did it on purpose to torture her big brother for being so crazy lately. I can see the little firecracker doing that.

I’m closing in on them and I refuse to adjust my speed to hang back. At my pace, I’ll pass them and be out of their sight in a matter of minutes. They hear me coming and Tiana moves in front Jayden to allow me to pass in good running etiquette. And pass them I do. Without giving them a glance I sprint by and hear Tiana’s heavy breathing hitch when she sees me. I wave over my head and continue not saying a word. I’m not interested in disturbing the bear today. I’ll be out of their sight in no time with them going so slow. I can feel their eyes boring a hole in my back as I pull away. Within seconds Tiana is running next to me. “Why are you following us?” “I wasn’t. I run here often and frankly I didn’t think Jayden could hack it.” I glance out of the corner of my eye without moving my head and find her pouting profile. God, I fucking love that bottom lip when she pouts. I can’t

look any longer or I’ll end up with a king-sized woody out here in the woods. “He runs every day.” “Inside, on a machine that is flat and smooth.” Proving my point, I’m forced to jump over a rock on the scarcely visible path to keep from tripping. “Are we friends again?” “No. We never had time to become friends before you shot your mouth off like a jerk.” “About that,” I say slowing down a little but not enough for Jayden to catch up. He’s still far enough behind us not to hear. “I was going to apologize for that this morning but then you went and invited your brother on your run so I changed my mind.” She’s quiet for a moment. I think she’s considering my apology. “He wasn’t invited, he invited himself.” She sounds irritated and I can’t help but smile. “It’s not funny,” she says.

I force the corners of my mouth down. “I’m sorry again, you’re just very cute when you’re mad.” “Speed up.” Did she say speed up or shut up? Could have been either but she begins to move faster and I know she said speed. “He’s going to catch up.” “I don’t think so, running’s not his forte. Which leads us back to why the partner today?” “It’s complicated.” “I’m a pretty intelligent man despite my devastatingly good looks. I’m willing to listen if you want to talk but now isn’t the time. Meet me tonight at the diner.” The corner of her lips curls up ever so briefly and I know I’m forgiven. Good, now we can move on to other things. Things I shouldn’t want but I do--oh how I fucking do.

CHA P T ER 13

Tiana

GETTING AWAY from my brother for a couple hours is proving to be quite the task. He’s not letting me out of his sight after watching that video and as annoying as it is to have a sidekick he makes me feel safe. I finally had to tell him I was meeting a couple of

girls from college for drinks and that he wouldn’t want to tag along. He’s not thrilled, but I managed to get away and I’ll be safe with Drake. I didn’t want to forgive him so easily this morning but when I’m close to him my brain turns to glop and I can’t resist. He was an ass but what he said was true. I fucked up and moved back home at age twenty-five. Embarrassing. And I am a little sassy and fiery, but much more so when I’m with him. I don’t know why it irritates me so much that he thinks he has me all figured out, he doesn’t. I walk into the diner and the smell of grease and the ‘50s decor take me back to when I was thirteen. My Aunt Marla brought six of my closest friends and me here for dinner on my birthday. She was a good woman who loved Jayden and me like we were her own, partially because she couldn’t have children and because she adored her sister. Mum and Aunt Marla grew up in Texas where mum met dad. He was traveling from the UK to the US for work. They fell in love, he took her home to

London and from the looks of Aunt Marla’s photos they were a perfect match. They married and had Jayden two years later and me seven after that. I love those pictures. I have sparse memories of growing up and all our pictures were destroyed in the fire. They were good parents that didn’t deserve to be taken so young. Aunt Marla reminded me of my mother so much that it hurt. They shared the same chestnut hair, delicate nose and almond shaped eyes that could look straight into your soul. After the fire, Aunt Marla vowed to raise her sister’s children the way she knew mum would have wanted. Marla died of a heart attack the year Jayden graduated from college and became an officer. I was sixteen when he was appointed my guardian and we moved here to North Carolina. Drake is in a booth in the back. I wave at Donna, the sixty-year-old waitress who’s been here since the place opened, and maneuver my way through the tables.

He looks up when I’m almost to him and it strikes me that he never looks at me straight on. He always has his head cocked to one side or the other. He slides out and stands like a gentleman when I have closed the distance between us. “Hey, you escaped. You look beautiful.” He just greeted me as if this were a date. I’m not sure how to take that and it must show on my face. “It’s a compliment, friends do that. It’s supposed to make you feel good.” His tone is playful. “I still haven’t forgiven you for being such a dick yesterday so we aren’t really friends.” “Yes, you have and yes, we are. Now sit down and have some dinner with me, my beautiful friend.” I roll my eyes and slide into the booth across the well-worn red leather seat. “You know telling me I’m beautiful all the time isn’t going to work. I’m onto your little game.”

He holds up his hand like a boy scout, “I promise on all things holy that I am not playing games. You are stunning and I like telling you so.” What am I supposed to say to that? I can’t very well tell him to quit saying I’m beautiful and he’s right, he is forgiven. “Alright, alright, you’re forgiven and we can be friends. You win.” He’s beaming when Donna hustles to our table. “Well don’t you look happy there, Drake. What can I get you, kids, tonight?” “How are you, Donna?” I ask. “Oh, arthritis is killin’ me, darling, but you know I’m blessed to be alive.” She’s smiling but her eyes are tired. This is hard work for anyone let alone a woman her age. “You need to cut back on the double shifts, you work too hard,” Drake says touching her forearm. I’ve never seen a woman her age blush but blush

she does, bright pink. “Oh, honey, you know there’s no good help in this town. My last girl up and quit last week so I don’t have much choice, either I work or we close up shop.” “You’re looking for help? I was a waitress for three years in New York. It was at a nightclub but I’m sure I would catch on quick here.” “You offerin’? Because if you need a job you can start tomorrow, I’m worn slap out.” “Yes, I’m looking for a job, temporarily, of course. I’m only home for a few months but I’d be happy to help. I love this place, it has so many good memories.” “Bless you, child, come in tomorrow around ten in the mornin’ and I’ll show you the ropes. It’s a cinch, and you’re so darn sweet and pretty you’ll be rolling in tips.” “Perfect, I’ll be here with bells on.”

“Well, now that that’s all settled I’ll have a beer. Do you want one, Tiana?” “Sure, sounds good.” “Okay, two draws comin’ right up.” She makes her way to the counter, stopping to check on a couple of tables on the way. “That was nice of you.” “I need a job and she’s exhausted. Seems like a win, win to me.” “She’s right you know, you’ll rake in the tips. Do you think your brother’s going to let you work?” “He can’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult and I need a job.” “He wouldn’t let you go for a run this morning alone. What was that all about?” A jolt of anxiety shoots through my chest. Should I tell him what’s really going on or keep lying about

spiders? I hesitate, but the urge to be honest with him is impossible to resist when he slides his hand across the table and places it over mine. “You can tell me, it’s okay.” I look at his hand and feel his warmth spread up my arm and spill my guts. “I received another video yesterday morning. I was afraid to open it alone so I had Jayden sit with me when I did.” He squeezes my hand when I stop. I look up into his eyes that are holding me in his special sideglancing way. I bite my lip and start again. “It wasn’t what I thought, thank God, it could have been worse. I thought someone had posted those videos to get me kicked off Just Sing. Since they got what they wanted I was going to put all of this behind me and move on.” “But that’s not the case?” “No, it appears not.”

“So, what was the video if it wasn’t footage of the bar incident?” “It was like a warning. First, it said I was a smart girl.” “Here y’all go, two beers. Now, what can I getcha to eat?” Donna asks interrupting, sitting our frosty glasses in front of us. “I hadn’t even thought about it, um… I guess I’ll have the club on rye with extra bacon, please.” “You got it, honey, how about you, Drake?” “Steak, rare, with whatever vegetable you have available so long as it’s not steamed.” “Alright, I’ll get that out to you right away,” she says and tweaks his cheek before heading to the kitchen. “Max, gimme a steak on the hoof with the garden and a club on whiskey!” she yells into the pass-through between the kitchen and the dining room. “Now that’s something that will take some time to

learn.” I nod my head in her direction. “I always wondered why they needed to do that, what’s so hard about saying a club on rye and a steak rare?” “Diner culture I guess. The Marines have a lot of acronyms, too, you know.” “True. Back to your story, so this person is harassing you?” He abandons my hand to take a drink of his beer and I’m not so sure I want to talk about this anymore but he tips his head and raises his eyebrows encouraging me to go on. “More like threatening me. It was eerie, it had music playing in the background and words flashing on the screen.” “What kind of words.” “Things like I know what happened, I’m watching and behave or there will be consequences. It freaked me out.”

“So, that’s what made you scream?” “Yeah, I guess I sort of snapped. I can’t understand any of this, it’s insane.” “What do you think this person has on you?” “I don’t remember most of that night and that’s not like me. I’m scared…” “You’re scared someone did something to you and recorded it without your knowledge.” I nod. “Do you think something like that happened? I mean, was there anything… out of order?” “No, I woke up the next afternoon in my own bed in my shorts and a tank top with my face washed and my hair in a bun like always. There was one thing, though.” “What’s that?” “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Tiana, I’m safe. I’m your brother’s best friend and neighbor. He would kill me if I said anything about this to anyone. Not that I would ever anyway, I’m a very stand-up guy.” I laugh softly and sigh. “You promise not to breathe a word of this to anyone ever? Not even Jayden, I didn’t tell him this part, I knew he’d flip his shit if he knew.” “I promise, cross my heart.” He makes an x over his heart with his finger. “I woke up with different panties on. I mean, I had on my pajamas too but I don’t change into fresh panties to go to bed. I shower in the morning and change them after.” “Were your clothes there?” “Yes, in the hamper.” “All of them?” “Yes. And I didn’t have a scratch or a bruise on me

anywhere.” “Well, that’s a relief. You didn’t call the police?” “No, I showered and changed and went back to bed.” “What about your roommate? Did she see anything?” “No, she doesn’t remember much either but she was awake long before me and didn’t seem to have a hangover. She said the door to our apartment was locked and she hadn’t seen anyone bring me home.” “May I ask why you didn’t call the police?” “Yes, you may. I didn’t because I didn’t remember anything and how would that look? I didn’t really have a crime to report.” “They might have been able to test you to see if you’d been drugged or violated.” “I think I was in shock and I didn’t want to know.”

“What about pregnancy or STD’s?” “Suki made me go to my gynecologist the next day, I took the morning-after pill and I was clean so that made me feel even more confident that nothing happened.” “Suki’s your roommate?” “Yeah” “Did the doctor think you’d been victimized?” “I didn’t tell him what happened. He thought I’d just had unprotected sex with someone I didn’t know very well.” He’s quiet while he mulls over my bad decisions. I know I should have called the police. I’ve watched every episode of Law & Order SVU but it’s different when it’s you; especially when you don’t remember what happened. “So now we wait.” I lower my eyes to the laminate table and trace a

water stain left by a glass with the tip of my finger. “Yeah, I guess so.” He leans forward with his elbows on the table and I look up at him. “We’re going to be ready for them this time. I have a buddy who can work miracles with computers. He can help you find this warped asshole before they do anything serious.” “Jayden said something about having my computer looked at too.” “If you can stop him try. My guy is with the CIA and he has some serious pull.” “Okay, I’m not sure how I’ll do that without telling him why but I can figure something out.” “Good girl, now, I’m going to give you some orders. This is very important and it might be difficult, but you need to do exactly what I say.” He looks very serious, my heart gathers speed and I swallow past a lump forming in my throat. What

now? I’m already juggling a possible rape, the loss of an entire night of my life, public scandal and keeping Drake a secret from Jayden. “You’re going to relax, drink your beer, eat your food and let me worry about this for the rest of the evening.” I slump back against the booth and sigh. That I can handle. “Yes, sir, those are some orders I can follow.” “Good.” As if on cue, Donna appears and places our food on the table in front of us. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until now. I’ve never been one of those girls who picked at her food because she was eating in front of a man and I’m not interested in starting now. Donna hasn’t taken two steps from the table before I pick up half of my sandwich and take a bite so big that it’s hard to manage. I chew forever and

reach for my beer to wash it down when a group of tween girls comes giggling through the front door. Donna, serving as hostess, waitress, and cashier shows them to a table near us and I hear their softspoken comments about the hot guy in the booth in the back. “How old are you?” I blurt out when I’ve swallowed my bite. He cocks his head and narrows his eyes, “Why?” I lean forward and crook my finger for him to do the same. When he does I jerk my head toward the girls, “Those little girls think you’re the shit.” A mischievous smile spreads across his face that makes me think all kinds of dirty thoughts all at once. “That’s because I am the shit. And I’m thirty-seven, eleven years your senior.” Thirty-seven? I thought he was closer to Jayden’s age.

I snort and arch one brow high at his arrogance and take another bite of my sandwich. He may be cocky but not without reason, he doesn’t look a day over thirty and he’s got the body of a twenty-five-yearold athlete. I’m not about to stroke his ego, though, I think the table full of blushing pre-teens next to us has done a pretty good job of that. “What? You don’t think so?” Ah, there is a morsel of insecurity in there after all. Good. “I never said that,” I say between chews. “You didn’t have to, and don’t talk with your mouth full.” He continues cutting his steak. I swallow and ignore his bossy comment not because I don’t have a million sassy comebacks but because it stirred something in me that I’ve never felt before. It stirred the desire to please. It’s not like I’ve never wanted to make somebody

happy. I got good grades in school to please Jay and Aunt Marla and I worked hard at work to please my boss. I’m a people-pleaser, but I’m not a man-pleaser. The men I’ve dated in the past didn’t demand respect. They never had a presence about them like Drake does. I could blame it on him being a Marine but I’ve known a lot of Marines. Not one of them made me tingle from head to toe or send my heart racing out of my chest with a parental comment like chew with your mouth closed. “Sorry.” “Apology accepted.” He slides his fork past his lush full lips and I think I’m jealous of that damn bite of steak but there’s that bit of bristle that makes me stretch my neck a bit at his choice of words. I’m not going to be sassy. I will not take his bait. “I’m glad you trusted me with your problem.” “Don’t make me regret it.” Damn it! Why? Why

does my mouth spit things out at the speed of light when my brain is only going 50 mph? I wasn’t going to be sassy. He smirks as if he knows what he’s done and continues to eat. We make nice and chit chat for the rest of the meal drinking two more beers apiece. Drake’s presence and the alcohol have me feeling more relaxed than I’ve felt in weeks. He puts me at ease and I wish Jayden didn’t have it out for him so I could spend more time feeling this way. “You’re glowing,” he says after telling a borderline dirty joke that has me laughing. “I feel good. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to let my guard down and laugh, thank you.” “The pleasure is all mine, believe me.” “Are you always this charming?” “Yes, unless you’re a Marine, then I’m a different kind of charming.” “Oh yeah? What kind of charming is that?”

“The manipulative, always in control commanding officer kind.” “Maybe I should enlist.” His eyes darken and his expression changes from playful to seductive. I’m playing with fire and I need to stop. “You’d like to be manipulated and controlled? Somehow that surprises me.” “It does? Why is that?” “At the risk of ruining what is the best evening I’ve had with someone in years, I’m going to answer that question. You’ve proven on more than one occasion that you are sassy and independent and stubborn.” “Not always.” We’ve been here a while, he’s sitting cockeyed with his knee up on the seat and his lean tanned arm stretched out along the back of the booth. His T-shirt strains against his chest outlining his

pectoral muscles and I have a flash daydream about peeling it off and exploring every hard ripple hidden under the deep red material. “Not always.” He repeats my words with interest. “Under what circumstances are you not?” “That’s for me to know and you to find out.” “Don’t tempt me, sweet girl. I’d love to but there’s no doubt that would push your brother over the edge.” I roll my eyes but he’s right. We both know it, yet here we sit flirting with each other like he doesn’t exist. He wags his finger at my mouth, “You’re pouting.” “I am not.” I raise my hand and touch my pouting lip proving myself wrong. “You are, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. If you were mine, I’d do things all day long to make you push that lip out and to see that bit of frustration in your eyes.”

If I were his. Those four words ignite a fire that’s been smoldering since the moment I first laid eyes on this man, two short days ago. I want him. I want him to throw me over his shoulder and haul me out of here. I want him to manipulate and control me all night until there’s not a pout left in my lip. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” He slides out of the booth and takes my hand pulling me to my feet. I’m standing in front of him so close I can smell a hint of his earthy cologne and the fabric softener on his shirt. “Where are we going?” “Home.” I deflate faster than tires on stop sticks. He’s taking me home to my brother. It’s probably for the best but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. He takes my chin in his hand and lifts my eyes to his. “My home.”

My heart flops in my chest and my sex aches between my thighs. His home, so we’re really doing this? His gaze is expectant as if he’s asking me instead of telling. I nod and he squeezes my chin. The gesture makes me feel like a child and a sex-kitten simultaneously. I follow him out of the diner and down the street in public holding his hand praying no one sees us and blabs to Jayden. What am I doing? Talk of me having dinner with Drake is probably spreading through the gossip mill as we walk. Like a game of Telephone, every person who talks about it will embellish it a little bit. By the time it gets back to Jay, it’ll sound like my wild night at The Aquarium in New York. They’ll say I was dancing on the diner bar naked grinding on Drake with a martini in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “You okay?” “Yeah, just little towns, ya know? Everybody talks

about everybody and this is front page news.” I hold up our linked hands. “Let them talk.” “But what about…” He stops and places a finger on my lips. “Shush.” I’m about to protest again when he pushes me into a dark alley between a clothing boutique and the barbershop. Tucked out of sight, he presses me up against the brick wall, slides his hands down my arms pinning them at my sides and leans in close. “It’s taking every ounce of restraint I have not to fuck you right here in this alley. I don’t care if people see. I don’t care if people talk. I don’t even care if your brother finds out. He’ll get over it. What I do care about is you. So, let’s stop talking and go to my house and release some of this pentup energy we’ve been trying to suppress for two days, shall we?” I nod, because what is there to say? Everything is

crystal clear now. The magnetism between us is mutual and we’re going to his house to fuck, Jayden and Jewel Falls be damned. “Good girl. Let’s go see if you really like giving up control.” He moves even closer and brushes his lips against mine in the faintest kiss. That one kiss packed more punch than all of Mason’s rolled into one. In fact, Drake has more animal magnetism in his pinky finger than Mason did in his entire body. This is exciting, this is thrilling, this is dangerous.

CHA P T ER 14

Drake

I KNOW it’s wrong but I can’t stop myself. There is a short list of things I can’t live without and she is now one of them. Every breath she takes every word she speaks is mesmerizing. When we are alone together I can hardly focus on anything but her full bee-stung lips and her bicolored eyes. Not

having her is not an option. Jayden will be angry but when he realizes she’s more than a fly-by fuck to me, he might be more accepting. His only valid concern left will be my impending blindness and that is something I can’t blame him for being angry about. No one wants to see their sister get strapped with someone that has more baggage than a twenty-sixfoot U-Haul. Hell, I don’t want that for her either but I simply cannot stop myself. “Around back,” I say to her when we approach my house in the dark. It’s easy to slip inside my house unnoticed from the deck in the back. I feel like a teenager sneaking my girlfriend into the house for a secret make-out session. But this is going to be much more than that. I’m going to do things to this woman that will make her never forget this night. “The lights are still on, Jay’s probably waiting for me.”

“Well, he’s going to have to wait a lot longer. Maybe you should text him and let him know you’re having fun and won’t be home until late.” “Good idea, how late?” “The tomorrow morning kind of late.” I wink at her and even in the dark I know she’s blushing. Her body temperature goes up when she’s excited, I can feel the heat emanating from her body. “I don’t know, Drake…” “It’s okay, you will.” I watch her blush harder in the glow of her phone screen as she types out a message to her brother. I open the back door and we slip inside unnoticed. I lead her through the house and upstairs not turning any lights on along the way. I don’t need them and I don’t want anyone to know I’m home. My bedroom takes up nearly the entire second level of the house. I push open the door and lead her by the hand to the edge of my bed. It feels odd

to have a woman in my room, in my house for that matter. When I have sex it’s purely physical and always at the woman’s house or a hotel. One surefire way to keep a woman from showing up or calling is not to give her your address or phone number. Tiana knows both but I would have brought her here even if she hadn’t. She’s different. She makes me feel something different. I don’t know what it is but I’m willing to risk losing my best friend and exposing my blindness for her so it’s monumental. “I know you’ve been through a lot lately. I’m going to take all of that away for a little while now, okay?” Her eyes are wide in the dark when she nods in agreement. I grasp the back of the collar of my shirt and pull it off in one smooth movement. Her hungry eyes wander along my shoulders down my chest to my well-defined abs. I hook my finger under her chin and bring them back to my face.

“I’m going to undress you now.” She’s trembling when I begin to unbutton her blouse. The soft material quivers under her skin and her chest is rising and falling with her quick short breaths. When her shirt is unbuttoned, I place my hand on her hot skin over her heart. “Breathe in.” I take a deep breath and she copies me. “And out.” We blow out our breaths slowly and repeat the process two more times. “Better?” I ask and she nods. I push her pink shirt off one shoulder and bend down to kiss the dip above her collarbone. I pause and breathe in her peach and vanilla scent trying to fill my lungs with as much of her as possible. Her hands come up to touch my waist but I place them back at her sides and begin kissing a trail from one shoulder to the other and up the creamy soft skin of her neck. God, she’s incredible, a part of me wants to push her down on the bed and take her roughly and hard… a big part. But more than

that, I want to keep listening to her appreciative sighs and feel her body quiver under my touch. I take her face in my hands and cover her mouth with mine. Her lips part and our tongues swirl together making my cock so hard it’s painful. I’m not one for taking my time. I always make sure my partner is satisfied, but it’s never my top priority. Tiana’s pleasure is my only priority. I want to explore every inch of her inside and out. I want to make her come harder than she ever has before. Her hands slide around my waist but I need her to understand that I’m in control of her pleasure journey tonight. I release her face and move her hands back to her sides a second time without breaking our kiss. She whimpers and I pull away until we are nose to nose. “Do you trust me?” Her sultry eyes open a sliver, “Yes.” “Then let me show you how good it feels to give

up control. I’m going to take you to paradise, baby.” I push her blouse off her shoulders and unhook her lace bra. She lets it fall to the floor and I take a moment to appreciate her full lush breasts. I kneel in front of her and slip her pretty feet out of her heels. I unzip her jeans and slide my hands around to cup her ample ass. I moan and lay my head against her flat belly for a moment collecting myself. She’s in excellent physical condition and I know she’s got stamina after running with her this morning. She was never out of breath the entire run. I’ve never slept with a woman who could outlast me. I may have met my match. I lean back and peel her jeans down her legs to her ankles. I take her hand and place it on my shoulder for balance and she pulls her feet the rest of the way out. When she’s free, I remove her hand and put it back at her side. With only her lace panties separating

us, I pull her a step forward and press my face between her legs smoothing my hands up the backs of her calves and breathing her in. She smells like heaven and she feels like a dream but I’m willing to bet she tastes better than both. I slide my hands up her hips and under her panties to cup her ass once more before dragging them down her legs. I press a kiss on her navel and when the black scrap of lace hits the floor I press another an inch lower and another and another. Her hands are balled into tiny fists at her sides and she’s shaking harder than a flag in a hurricane when I rise to my feet. I toe off my shoes and unbuckle my belt when she asks, “May I?” She nods her head toward my jeans. “Yes, you can take them off but don’t touch.” I like that she asked and I want her to be comfortable but I’m in charge of her tonight. She kneels in front of me and lowers my zipper and then my jeans. I kick them aside still wearing my

black boxer briefs and she looks up at me through her dark lashes. Her eyes are powerful and seductive, she could ask me for anything right now and I wouldn’t deny her. Except for control, I keep the control. She is bare but for an elastic band around her wrist. I scoop her hair off her shoulders into a ponytail and take the elastic from her to wrap it around the thick mop of curls. She cocks her head to the side and looks at me thoughtfully. I’m sure she’s going to say something, but then she places her hands on my hips and slides the last barrier separating our bodies down my legs. My cock springs free brushing against her cheek, she moves just in time to obey my command not to touch. Being with her is almost too much. I don’t do this, fucking is fucking. There is no intricate foreplay or feelings involved with other women. No soft kisses or silky touches, just fucking followed by release. Not with Tiana, never with Tiana. I reach out and

take her hand to help her up and surprise her when I lift her up and wrap her legs around my waist. Instinctively, her arms fly to my shoulders and the soft sound of her gasp when she feels my cock pressing against her is a potent aphrodisiac. She looks at me straight on and I lower my eyes avoiding the uncomfortable reminder that someday I will not be able to see her at all. I move toward the bed and sit on the edge with her in my lap. She lowers her arms and the small show of obedience makes me crazy. I cover her mouth and devour her pulling her soft ample breasts against my rock-hard chest. My cock twitches between us when I feel the erect peaks of her nipples against my skin. I slide my hand up her spine and break our kiss. Lowering her, I hold her steady and leave a trail of kisses down her throat to one of her perfect nipples. Her head falls back and she moans as I circle the sensitive nub with my tongue. “Oh God, Drake, … Please…”

“Patience,” I say against her skin as I slide my hand between her legs to her smooth mound. I cup it in my hand, making her wait a few seconds longer for what she’s craving before I slide two fingers into her soaking wet folds. “You’re a very good girl, Tiana, so wet, so ready, so responsive. I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before. I’m going to take you to paradise and back over and over.” I slide my fingers in and out and scrape my teeth against her nipple. She’s mine now. No one else will explore these curves, taste her sweet skin, or feel the hot slick wetness between these legs. “Mine.” I circle her clit and bite her nipple gently to prove a point. She squirms in my arms and raises her head to look at me with a question in her eyes. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but I must have. Time to deflect. I roll her onto the bed onto her stomach.

“Crawl into the center and lie on your stomach.” She does as I ask and I stand and admire the view. A slice of light from the full moon streams across her backside. Her caramel tanned skin from a long day in the sun glows in the light and I have the urge to bite one of her round cheeks. I leave her for a moment to get a few things from my dresser drawer. When I return, I crawl up the bed and hover over her. I dip down to whisper in her ear and my cock rests in the crack of her ass. “Put your arms above your head.” She slides her arms over her head. I reach up and click a pair of handcuffs around her wrists. Her head pops up and she yanks her wrists taut. I feel her tense under me and before she can voice a protest, I proactively speak into her ear again. “Trust me.” “But…”

“Uh, uh, uh. You can do this.” I gently press her head down and watch her blink several times in an attempt to relax. “Breathe in and out, in and out.” My voice is hypnotic and raspy with desire. She believes I’m in control. Little does she know, I’m close to losing it. I close my eyes and breathe with her until her pulse isn’t pounding in the side of her neck. I rise and reach for one of the throw pillows on the bed and tuck it under her belly lifting her ass to a perfect angle and nudge her legs apart. I lean back and rest my ass on my heels between her legs taking her in. I’d like a picture of her like this but given her recent trauma with visual media, I leave the camera for another time. I open a bottle of lotion that was with my cuffs in my dresser and squirt a white line down the back of her legs. Hypersensitive, she jumps at the feel of the cool lotion on her skin. I lay my hands on her calves and smooth the lotion over her flesh massaging her legs until I reach the curves under

her cheeks. Spreading the lotion upward with my fingers and spreading her crack open with my thumbs with every stroke I feel her tense in anticipation. The metal of the handcuffs clinks together when she grabs the comforter and wads it in her hands. “You have no idea how beautiful you are like this. If I didn’t want you so badly, I could massage every inch of you for hours.” She moans and I take advantage of the moment while she’s thinking about my words to lean in and lick her seam from her wet pussy to the tight pucker of her ass. “Ah God, Drake.” I was right. She tastes delicious, sweet like a juicy peach. In fact, everything about her reminds me of a peach, her slick mound, her tempting full ass, the smell of her skin, her breasts. I slide my hands under her and hike up her hips a

little more and bury my face in between her legs massaging her pussy with my thumbs with every long lick of my tongue. She squirms and I swat her on the ass just enough to get her attention. She stills, stunned by the sting. I kiss the red spot my hand left on her skin and watch the small of her back arch with every pant of her breath. As much as I love this, I can’t wait any longer to be inside her. I slide the pillow out from under her belly and flip her over. On my hands and knees hovering over her, we look at one another in the dark. The moonlight has moved off the bed, but it’s still light enough for me to see an outline of her face. Six months ago, I would have turned on the light to penetrate her with a seductive stare while I fucked her. Now, I can’t look anyone straight in the eye. Everything I see is from my peripheral and looking at her sideways during such an intimate moment like this would feel odd.

I raise her cuffed hands over her head lengthening her body and displaying her breasts beautifully. “Stay like this.” She nods and I reach across the mattress for a condom. Her eyes lower, watching me roll it onto my rock-hard length. I bend her knees and kiss the inside of her leg from ankle to her sex. I tease her for a moment with light kisses on her mound. One more moan out of her and I’m on my knees sliding her legs over my shoulders. I thrust my cock into her hot wet pussy like a man possessed, because I am. Possessed with a desire to bring this woman more pleasure than she can stand. Hands pressed to the mattress, I slide in and out deeply and rotate my hips until she’s on the edge and so am I. The greedy dominant man that I am wants to see just how far I can push her. “Don’t come, Tiana. Wait until I say.” “What? I can’t…” she pants opening her eyes wide.

“Do your best; do it for me.” She looks frazzled and confused, but she relaxes under me and I know she’s doing it, holding off, waiting. “You feel so good, I don’t want this to ever end. I could fuck your perfect pussy forever.” She looks up at me nearly horrified at the thought of being fucked forever with no release. I smile and pick up the pace. The sound of our bodies slapping together bounces off the walls and our moans and heavy breathing become more and more frantic. “Okay, baby, come for me, let go.” Her body tenses and arches taking me deeper, bringing us closer. I feel her sex pulsing around my cock when I let go with a roar clawing at the comforter. My heart is pounding against my ribs and I’m gasping for breath, not from physical exertion. I’m

blissed out, sated, and astonished at how this woman has me twisted up inside. I lower her legs off my shoulders and bring her arms down between us and unlock them with the key on the bed next to us. I rub her wrists and lay her limp arms over her flat belly. “How do you feel?” “No words,” she replies. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m not done with you, you know? I have plans for you for the next few hours.” She lifts her eyebrows and inhales a deep breath. “I’ll try to keep up,” she says with a shrug and I sit back and pull her into my lap. “We can rest in between. I may have to feed you again, too, but I think you’ll survive.” I reach up and trace her face with the tip of my finger ending with a tap on her bottom lip. She

glances out the window next to the bed and I sense I’ve lost her undivided attention. “Jayden can’t see us, or hear us, and he has no idea you’re over here.” She closes her eyes and her lush lashes fan her cheeks like the costume of a Vegas showgirl. I cup her cheek and pull her to my chest. “I know, I’m sorry. I just feel guilty blatantly going against his wishes when he made it so clear he would rather we not see each other.” She’s so much more submissive than I gave her credit for. She has a sassy independent side but she also has a strong desire to follow orders and please. This knowledge makes me fall a little bit more for her. “Tiana, you’re an adult, and Jayden forbade you from seeing me for no reason other than he thinks I’ll hurt you and I will not.” A pang of guilt pierces my chest when I lie. If we

keep this up, she’s in for a world of hurt and so am I. When she finds out I’m going blind, she’ll be gone. I can’t imagine not ever having this woman in my bed again, but she deserves so much more than what I am going to become. Tiana states, “I know. He has my best interest at heart, though, he’s trying to protect me in any way he can. I think he feels guilty about not being there for me in New York, but that’s absurd. That was all my fault, nobody could have saved me from that mess.” “You’re right, he’s a good man and he loves you, and he’s also my best friend. If it makes you feel better, we can keep this under wraps. We don’t know where this is going, you might hate me again tomorrow anyway.” She laughs softly and her hand drifts over my abdominal muscles. “I don’t think so, you’re sort of growing on me.” “Growing indeed.” I push my hips forward making

her aware of my returning erection. “I’m almost ready for round two.” “So, what’s next? Whips, chains, blindfolds, rope?” she says and I feel her smile against my chest. “No whips,” I answer unsure if she’s joking around or if she’s actually had a relationship like this before. I stroke her arm up and down and wait for her to respond and she doesn’t. “What are you thinking?” “I’m thinking about ropes, blindfolds, and chains.” “How do you feel about ropes, blindfolds, and chains?” “I think I feel good about them.” “I thought you would.”

CHA P T ER 15

Tiana

IT’S three in the morning. Jayden has texted me every hour checking on me. I answer him every time and assure him that I am fine and hanging with my friend Katie at her house. Every time I feel guiltier, but Drake’s touch and the promise of yet another new experience with him draw me back

into his bed. He isn’t pressuring me to stay, he’s asked me more than once if I want to go but I can’t bring myself to leave him. Sex with Drake is like being a freshman in high school. You leave junior high thinking you’re the shit and that you know everything. But on your first day of high school, you realize you’re clueless. I mean, I’m not inexperienced. I’ve had a few boyfriends and a couple of hookups in college before I made my no-hookup rule. Technically, Drake could be considered a hookup since we aren’t dating per se and we’re having sex, but I feel something for him. It’s not just the sex, he’s complicated and kind and dominant and I like being in his company, even when he’s driving me crazy. I understand him a little better now. His bossy ways and his authoritative aura are Marine qualities, but they’re also qualities of a dominant man who knows what he wants. I don’t like being

told what to do outside the bedroom, but here within these four walls I think I’d do anything he asked me to do, and more. It’s like a switch is flipped and all my aggression and defiance toward him are gone. I happily hand him the reins and let him lead me into paradise as he says. And I do it repeatedly. My muscles feel like jelly and I don’t think there is another orgasm in my body to be had. Although, I’m sure Drake would try to conjure one up. I need to go and put Jayden’s mind at ease, but we’ve just finished a bath and shower. I have no makeup left on my face and my hair is wet. There’s no way I can walk into the house like this without him suspecting something. “I can dry your hair for you if you want.” He knows I’m worried. “No offense, but I don’t think you have the tools here to put me back the way I was when I left the house tonight.”

“Hmm, why don’t you just tell him you’re staying with your friend and in the morning when you go home tell him you showered at her house?” That’s an option and I’ve thought of it but it wouldn’t relieve Jayden’s mind. He won’t sleep until I’m safe in my bed and I know it. “I could but…” “But your brother won’t sleep until he lays eyes on you,” Drake says, perceptively. “Right.” Wrapped in his arms under the comforter, I am so content. I should be diagnosed clinically insane for even considering leaving his bed. I’m not at all sure I can walk across the lawn on my wobbly legs anyway. “Can you hand me my phone? I’m going to see how he reacts.” Drake passes me my phone from the night table. I’ve had it on his charger so it doesn’t die. That’s all I need is for Jayden to call the

police because he can’t get ahold of me. I can just see it now; Drake and I are lying in his bed and suddenly red and blue lights start flashing through the window. When we look out cop cars are filling my driveway to form a search party with their giant flashlights cutting wide swaths through the night. I text him that I’m tired and Katie has invited me to stay with her rather than drive home at this hour. He texts me back immediately that he will come and get me if I want. I groan, “He wants to come and get me. He’s probably going nuts.” “You could say, no thank you, I’m already comfortable and that you’ll call him in the morning. It’s not a lie.” Why not? I type out Drake’s suggestion and Jayden reluctantly accepts my plan. There isn’t much he can do anyway other than to demand to pick me up or threaten to come looking for me. I wouldn’t put

it past him to do either. “He says he doesn’t like it, but okay.” Drake flops his head against the padded headboard and blows out a long breath. “Good, great, perfect. I get to keep you all night.” I look over at the clock on his bedside table, “It’s almost morning already. I’m usually getting up two hours from now.” “I can do a lot in two hours.” “You’ve already proven that.” “And I’m going to prove it some more, come here.” I shriek when he pulls me on top of him and presses his long hard cock against my sex. He is insatiable. I didn’t even know men could keep getting hard as often as he does. I didn’t know a lot of things before tonight, including that I like it when Drake is in charge. The last time I glanced at the clock it was six a.m.

Drake is usually up at five and I have a new job to start at ten. It’s going to be a rough day. I roll onto my back and wait for my foggy sleepdeprived mind to remember where I am. I toss my arm over my eyes to block out the sun that’s streaming in through the window. I turn my head both ways looking for Drake but the tangled sheets are empty. I look at the time, it’s nine a.m. Shit, I need to go to work. I should call Jayden. God, please let him be at the base so I can slip in and get ready in peace. I scramble off the bed but when my feet hit the floor I hesitate before standing. I’m light headed and weak. I need to hurry but I feel like I just completed a triathlon. My phone is propped up against the lamp on Drake’s bedside table and there is a protein bar and a bottle of water next to it. He’s left me a breakfast of sorts. I pick up my phone and tap the screen to bring it to

life. It opens directly into the photo app and a picture of me sleeping peacefully in Drake’s bed fills the screen. I smile at the thought of him watching me sleep. No time to sit around being sappy. I have some lies to tell my big brother and a diner to get to. I exit the photo app and open the text app. I’m not surprised to find two messages from Jayden. --Are you running today? --Call me when you wake up. Run? I may never run again. Walking very slowly sounds about right for now. I eat the protein bar and gag a little, I hate the things but they serve a purpose and I really need the energy. An alarm goes off on my phone. It’s 9:15 a.m., I don’t have an alarm set for this time. I shut it off. Drake must have set it for me so I wouldn’t be late to work. My clothes have been folded and set on a chair and

my shoes are on the floor directly under it. A place for everything and everything in its place, that’s a Marine for you. I dress and peek out the window looking for Jayden’s car. It’s gone, thank you, Lord. My phone vibrates in my hand and I jump. This sneaking around has only just started and I’m a bumbling mess. It’s a text from Drake. --Good morning, beautiful girl. I had to go for a run and leave for work. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you woke up. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Leave the bed like it is. I want to smell you on my sheets tonight. Jayden left for the base at seven, you should be fine to go home and get ready for work. Have a great first day. –D This man is damn near perfect, how on earth is he still single at his age? I look around to make sure I have everything and eye the bed. It’s begging to be

made but he said to leave it, so I’ll leave it. My hand is on the doorknob when I hear a door open downstairs. Shit, who would be coming into Drake’s house when he’s not home? My heart starts to pound and panic floods my veins. Is it Jayden? Did he figure out what’s going on and decide to confront me and drag me home? I tip-toe across the floor and look out the window. Jayden’s car isn’t in our driveway and I can’t see Drake’s from here. What if it’s the wacko who’s threatening me? Oh my God, I need to get out of here. I hear someone coming up the stairs and consider jumping out the window until I look at the twentyfive-foot drop. “Yoo-hoo, Drake. I told you I’m not a woman to be ignored. If you don’t start calling me back, I’m going to…” The door opens and a beautiful, immaculately dressed middle-aged woman gasps when she sees me.

“Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my Drake had company, he never has anyone…” Her voice trails off and her eyes drift to the torn-up bed and then back to me. Her face brightens like a kid about to blow the candles out on their birthday cake. She clasps her hands together and clicks across the floor on stilettos that even I can’t imagine walking in. “You’re seeing my son? Oh, thank you, baby Jesus!” When she reaches me, she places her hands on my shoulders and then my cheeks. “And you’re so beautiful!” She pulls me into a bear hug and I lift my hands to return the gesture with much less enthusiasm. “Um, thank you.” This is rather uncomfortable for me but she seems to have no problem hugging a strange woman in the middle of her son’s bedroom where it’s obvious that we’ve recently had sex.

“What is your name, darling? I’m Drake’s mother, Giselle. You have no idea how happy I am to meet you.” I’m stunned by her forward energy but she gives off a wonderful vibe, I like her already. “Tiana, it’s nice to meet you,” I respond, stunned. She smiles even wider if that’s possible and glances around the room. “Is my son here, sugar?” “No, ma’am, he’s gone to the base. I was just leaving for work.” “Well go on now then, bless your heart. Don’t let me hold you up. Tell that son of mine to call his mama or I’ll keep stopping by unexpectedly willynilly whenever I please.” “Yes, ma’am, will do.” She looks me straight in the eyes just long enough to make me shift my weight from one foot to

another. I need to go and she’s holding me up but I can’t be rude. “Two souls,” she says tilting her head to the side. “Pardon me?” “Your eyes, sweetheart. When you have different colored eyes, it means you have two souls.” I’ve heard that before, but the way she says it with such reverence and deep thought makes me wonder about it. What does it really mean? No time to ask now, I’ve got to go. “You go on now, scoot off to work. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” She gestures toward the bedroom door and I lead us out. At the bottom of the stairs, I hesitate. I don’t want to exit through the front door where the neighbors might see me, but taking the back door is going to look weird to Giselle. I also feel the urge to apologize for something,

what I’m not sure. Sleeping with her son out of wedlock, ha, doubtful. Messing up his bed, no. Being in his house when he isn’t home? No, that’s not it either. Maybe it’s because she was looking for Drake and found me instead? Possibly. “Don’t worry about us meeting the way we did. I’m just thrilled to know my baby is with such a gorgeous creature,” she says as if she were reading my worried mind. “It was a little awkward I’ll admit, but I’m glad you weren’t upset.” “Oh no, sugar, never.” She leans over and surprises me with a kiss on my cheek. Then she whirls on her heel and leaves through the front door with a whoosh. I hear the hum of her car start a second later and when I’m sure she’s gone, I lock the front door. I feel like a criminal looking both ways off Drake’s deck to be sure no neighbors are out doing any

watering or lawn work. The coast is clear, so I walk as casually as I can across our yards and skip up the stairs to my room. I run a flat iron through my hair at lightning speed and toss it up in a bun. I apply minimal makeup and put on a pair of khaki shorts and a pink peasant top with a pair of comfy tennis shoes. It’s 9:45 a.m., perfect. I’ll make it on time if I leave right now. I rush out the door and run straight into my six foot two brick house of a brother. “Oh! Gosh, Jay, you scared the shit out of me!” “Where are ya goin’ in such a hurry?” He looks irritated. No, he looks downright angry. “What’s the matter?” “What’s the matter? Seriously, T? You have video threats sent to you one day and the next you’re staying out all night with your girlfriends. And now I come home and find you flying out of the house like you’re late for something!” He tosses his arms

up in the air. He’s frustrated and I feel bad because it’s my fault but he’s right, I’m late for something and I must go. “I’m really sorry, Jayden, I didn’t mean to worry you and I am late for something. I got a job yesterday at the diner waitressing. I’m supposed to be there at ten. Why are you home right now, anyway?” “I hadn’t heard from you so I came home to see if you were okay. Damn, Tiana, you need to keep me in the loop if you want me to help you.” “I’m sorry, really I am, but can we talk about this later. I need to go.” “Yeah, sure, the diner?” “Yes, Donna is running the place all by herself.” “Alright, I mean, that’s great. Have a good day, what time are you off? I can come and pick you up or walk you home. Wait, do you want a ride right now?” He looks at his watch, “Because you’re

going to be late, it’s 9:55.” “Yes, please, that would be great thank you, Jayden.” He smiles and I realize that giving him physical ways to help me seems to ease his worrying. I’ll have to remember that in the future. Inside his truck, he waits for me to put my seatbelt on before pulling into the street. “So, you missed your run this morning.” “Yeah, guess so.” “That’s not like you.” “I’ll run tomorrow morning, it’s one day, no big deal. I was having fun. I haven’t had actual fun, that I remember, in forever. I won’t make a habit of it, promise.” Most of that’s true, I was having fun, lots of it, and I haven’t had fun in a while. The not making a habit of it part is going to be a problem, however. He’s making way too big a deal out of this.

At the diner, he drops me at the door right on time. I turn and kiss his cheek. “I’ll text you when I’m off so you can come get me.” “Okay, I’ll keep an eye on my phone. Have a good day, I love you, sis.” “Love you too, later.” “Bye.” I watch his big silver GMC Sierra glide down Main Street and breathe a sigh of relief that everything turned out okay this morning. The whole meeting Drake’s mama thing was a little stressful and unexpected and hopefully, she won’t mention it to the wrong person today and blow our cover, but other than that things went smoothly. I open the door and breathe in the smell of eggs, toast, and grease along with a fine hint of Pine Sol in the air. Someone’s been cleaning. Surely, Donna doesn’t have to do that on top of everything else. She answers my question when she exits the

restroom with a mop and a bucket full of water. “Oh, good mornin’, sweetheart! I’m so glad you were serious. It’s gonna be a busy day around here.” I put on my best suck-it-up-smile and cringe inside. That’s just what I don’t need after a night full of intense sex with Drake. A busy day.

CHA P T ER 16

Drake

I FEEL OLD AS FUCK. I have never wanted a woman more than I did Tiana last night. Want doesn’t come close to how I felt. It was more like an urgent devotion, a need, a craving. I couldn’t get enough of her. I don’t think I will ever get enough of her. The only reason we stopped was out of pure

exhaustion and the impending day of work we both had ahead of us. And now I’m paying for it. But I’d take the aches, pains, and fatigue a million times over to have her in my bed all night. I’ve run five miles, done an hour of physical training with my men and now I’m in a meeting that will take every ounce of discipline I need to stay alert for. I’m better on my feet. Now that I’m sitting down, the past twenty-four hours is hitting me like a ton of bricks. Two more meetings and a stack of paperwork are on the agenda today. I won’t get home until after seven o’clock tonight and I have no idea how long Tiana’s shift will last at the diner. Today is a special kind of hell reserved for people who choose not to balance work and play. I know better but I don’t regret a second of last night. What I do regret, is that what we’re doing puts Tiana in a difficult position. I know she’s

uncomfortable lying to her brother and sneaking around. I should do the honorable thing and end this before Jayden goes nuts and Tiana gets hurt because both are inevitable. Even if I devoted my life to Tiana and gave up all other women forever, nothing is going to stop me from going blind. I know it, Jayden knows it, but I never want Tiana to know it. If I pull away now we will have one incredible hot night to remember forever and she will never have to know about my problem. I want her to think of me the way I was last night, powerful, dominant, in control, and complete. Disabilities like blindness, breed pity and weakness and I cannot stand the thought of being either. I pride myself on my strength and independence, without them I am dead weight. When I’m blind I won’t be able to serve my country and that’s all I’ve ever known. I should push her away and put a stop to this thing

that’s happening between us. She won’t understand, but it’s for her own good. I can’t be the man I need to be for a woman like her. She deserves a whole man, one who can give her a future full of security and family, a man she can be proud to stand next to. Not a man she has to lead around. Not a man in the dark. It’s long past dinner when I’m wrapping up my paperwork and Jayden knocks on my open office door. “Captain Williams, come in.” “Yes, sir,” he says entering my office and closing the door behind him. “What are you doing here so late?” I ask him. “I wanted to talk to you about Tiana.” I’ve been squinting at the giant font on my computer screen, but when he mentions Tiana I

look up giving him my full attention. This could be bad if he knows what happened last night but I don’t get that kind of vibe from him. He seems more worried than angry. “What’s on your mind?” I lean back in my chair and he sits down across from me on the other side of my desk. We abandoned all military formalities as soon as the door closed as we have done for years, so he speaks freely. “She didn’t come home last night.” “As in ever?” Panic fills me when I realize she never texted me back this morning. I assumed she had gotten up and gone to work after I set her alarm. Oh God, she could still be sleeping in my bed or worse the whack job who’s been sending her video threats could have gotten to her. Fuck, I should have called her. “Yeah, eventually. I don’t know when but I went by the house this morning and she was leaving again.” Thank fucking God. I hope he can’t see the pure

relief that I’m feeling on my face. “So, what’s the problem?” “You weren’t home last night, were you?” Shit, here it comes. “No, I ate dinner at the diner.” I may as well tell the truth as much as possible. “Did you see her there?” Now I have no choice but to lie. “Yeah, she was coming in when I was leaving.” “Who was she with?” Jayden is sly. I know this because he’s been my friend for a long time. I can’t tell if he’s pumping me for information or trying to lay a trap for me to fall into. I’m sure she told him she was hanging out with girlfriends, though, so I go with that. “A couple of women. They looked like they were having a good time.” He’s quiet and I pray he doesn’t ask me to describe

them. When he doesn’t say anything for a while I break the silence. “What’s going on with you, Jayden? Everything okay? You haven’t been yourself since your sister got here.” He looks at me long and hard before speaking. “She’s in trouble man. Somebody is sending her disturbing video messages.” Okay, now I’m sure he isn’t trying to trick me into admitting I was with her last night. He’s worried and he’s coming to me as a friend for advice. “What do you mean?” “Whoever was messing with her in New York is still doing it. She thought whoever posted those videos was trying to get her kicked off the show and when it worked she figured it was over.” “But it’s not?” “Nope. She got this cryptic video yesterday, no footage, just text telling her that they know what

happened and she needs to watch her back or some shit. She was scared at first but after last night I don’t think she’s taking it seriously enough. This person could be a total psycho or something and she’s running around drinking with her friends making herself vulnerable.” “How do you know she was drinking?” He screws up his face and looks at me like I’m an idiot. “She was out with her friends. All night. Couldn’t drive home, come on, man, you know how it goes.” “Have you spoken to her about it? Maybe you should tell her to stick close to home for a few weeks until you know what this person’s going to do.” I don’t think that’s a bad idea really. If she hadn’t been with me I think I’d be just as shaken up as he is. “Yeah, she’s pig-headed, though, she does what she wants.”

“She’s an adult, she’s going to do what she wants, wouldn’t you?” “If I thought somebody was out to get me I’d accept my brother’s advice.” “Even if it meant giving up your life and sitting around at home all the time waiting for something to happen?” “Well, no, I don’t want that. I just want her to be more careful and I think she should sleep at home.” “Sounds like you two have some talking to do.” “She still pissed at you? I saw you guys talking on the trail. What was she saying?” “No, I think she’s forgiven me for the most part. But at first, she wanted to bitch me out and tell me to find my own trail to run on in the future.” He snorts and one side of his mouth lifts in a knowing smile. “Yeah, that sounds like her.” “She’s got a temper.”

“But y’all are on speaking terms now?” “I believe so.” “You think you could encourage her to listen to me about being more careful? Or tell her some shit about a kidnapper in the area or something so she will come home at night.” This is rich. He’s asking me to talk to his sister, who is off limits, about not staying out all night. Essentially, I’d be warning her to stay away from me. Not such a bad idea. “I’m not going to make up lies, but I’d be happy to slip some safety tips into conversation with her. If I ever speak to her again, that is.” This is almost like getting permission to talk to her. It’s bizarre. “Thanks, man. You’re a good friend. Keep your hands off her, though. Don’t go charming her or anything. Just warn her that just because this isn’t the big city doesn’t mean it’s safe.” Way to shove a knife into my heart and twist it with

the good friend comment. “Of course.” He leans forward to look at me closer, “How’s your vision?” I hate talking about my sight, especially here on base in my office where someone could be listening and he knows it. A weird sensation that there is an underlying reason for his question nags at me. “Fine.” “No more changes?” “No, I’m about to finish up. You want to grab a beer?” I say changing the direction of the conversation abruptly. “Yeah, sure. Meet you at Al’s?” “I’ll be there in fifteen,” I tell him. When he’s gone, I slide my hand over my phone

lying on the desk next to me. I turn it over and search Tiana’s phone number. When it’s on the screen, I hover my finger over the call button and debate if I should call her and tell her about the conversation I just had with her brother. If I’m going to keep my distance, calling is a bad idea, but I haven’t made up my mind on what to do yet. I flip the phone over and lay it face down on the desk. No, leave it alone I repeat to myself. However, the images of her pressed up against the wall of my shower coming apart in my arms, handcuffed underneath me panting, and writhing in ecstasy, blindfolded and bound by her wrists with rope yelling my name over and over… Fuck. I flip the phone over again and press the green call button. I lean back in my chair and glance down at my rock-hard cock straining inside my uniform pants. Just thinking of all the things I still want to do to her makes me crazy. “Hello?” she answers on the fourth ring.

“How was your first day at the new job?” “Drake?” “Yes.” She blows out a relieved breath. “Were you expecting someone else?” “No, it’s just, I don’t get a lot of phone calls so I didn’t turn off the ringer and I’m still at work.” “At this hour? Why? You need to go home and rest.” “You’re telling me, I’m dying. I don’t see how Donna does this by herself.” “Didn’t they close an hour ago?” “Yes, but there’s side work to do, I’m almost done. I can’t wait to go home and pass out for the next ten hours.” “Do you work again tomorrow?” “Yeah, but I think Donna feels sorry for me, she told me to come in at noon for the lunch rush. It’s

embarrassing, she’s in her sixties and she can run circles around me.” “Yes, but I’m willing to bet she wasn’t handcuffed to a bed until five o’clock this morning either.” I can sense her smile on the other end of the line. “True, although, she’s pretty frisky, you never know.” She’s got me there, I would have never thought sweet little Miss Cavanaugh was into the same kind of sex that I am. I chuckle when I envision Donna strung up on a suspension frame. “I wanted to let you know your brother just stopped by.” “Oh my God, he doesn’t suspect…” “No, no, but he’s concerned about you. Concerned enough that he asked me to encourage you to stay home at night. He doesn’t think you’re taking the videos seriously since you went out all night last night.”

She laughs, “Really? You? He asked his smokinghot neighbor that he doesn’t want me to get involved with to tell me I’m not being safe?” “Smoking-hot, huh?” “I shouldn’t have said that. You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” “Who me?” “Hush. Oh, shoot, I have to go, Donna is calling me but I have something to tell you too.” “Do you want to call me later?” “Yeah, I’ll be out of here in about thirty minutes, will that be okay?” “I’ll be at Al’s having a beer with your brother.” She hollers to Donna with her hand over the phone, “Just a second, Donna, I’m coming. Sorry, well I’m going to pass out as soon as my head hits the pillow so I’ll tell you now. Your mom came by this morning when I was getting ready to leave. She

came upstairs to your room. We met and she saw the bed, I’m pretty sure she knows what’s going on.” Damn it, Mother! What the hell is she doing? I’m going to have to change the locks. When will I learn? I should have called her. “Was everything okay?” I ask. “Aside from being caught in her son's bedroom that smelled like sex, yes, it went rather well,” Tiana replies. “I’m sure she loved you and I’m sorry if she scared you. She’s been on my case lately about calling her back.” “Well, she is your mother, you should call her back. I’d give my right hand to talk to my mum again.” If I weren’t feeling guilty before, I am now. Here I am acting like I’m too busy to call my mother back while Tiana will never see hers again. I’m not a

complete asshole, I don’t call her because the less interaction I have with her the less likely it is that she finds out about my vision… for now. “You’re right, believe me, I’ll make a point of it from now on.” “I’ve got to go, Donna needs me.” She’s not the only one. “How are you getting home if your brother is here?” “I’ll walk.” “You will not. Maybe Jayden is right. You’re not taking this seriously enough, get an Uber.” I swear to God if she refuses, I’ll stand Jayden up and go get her. “Okay, I have to go.” “Tiana, promise me. Uber.” “I promise. My God, you’re as bad as Jayden.”

“Oh honey, you have no idea. Don’t try my patience.” Click. The phone line disconnects. She did not fucking hang up on me. I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the screen that says call ended. She did hang up. That little fucking firecracker hung up. I open a text box and press the audio message option and send her a text while I make my way out of my office. Big mistake. I don’t take well to rudeness, not to mention disobedience. That woman just pressed my biggest button and now she’s going to see what happens when she refuses me. So much for breaking things off today, I’ll have to do it tomorrow.

CHA P T ER 17

Tiana

DON’T TRY MY PATIENCE? Is he kidding? I’m a grown ass woman, if I want to walk home and risk my life, I damn sure will. I mean, I don’t, but I need some peace and quiet when I get home tonight. That’s why I told Jayden I had a ride. I should have lied to Mr. Pushy, too.

When I exit the kitchen, I find Donna filling salt and pepper containers at the counter. I’m seething mad. I don’t say anything, I just start helping her. The mindless work is good for my hot head and she seems to sense that I need quiet. Donna likes to chatter on and on but she holds her tongue and watches me intently. After about ten minutes she breaks the silence yanking me from my thoughts. “That Drake sure got you all cattywampus.” “What?” “Drake. You know that boy is handsome as hell, but he’s one of the only honest ta God players I’ve ever met. Don’t get attached, he’s a heartbreaker.” “Oh, I’m not interested. We met a couple days ago. He’s our next-door neighbor. We ran into each other here last night and he bought me dinner, it’s nothing.” She tips her head down and looks at me over her glasses with her brows lifted.

“I’m serious, we’re just friends.” “It didn’t look like that when y’all were holdin’ hands and givin’ each other googly-eyes.” I huff and pick up the tray of shakers. “We did not have googly-eyes.” “Okay, honey, but be careful. I’ve seen a lot of women cryin’ in their soup in here because that boy won’t commit to anything other than sex. You’re a real nice girl, I don’t wanna see ya get hurt.” Is that all he wants from me? A few nights of kinky sex and then onto the next women who’s blind to his game? I want to quiz her about the other women he’s slept with and how she knows he’s a player, but that would make me look interested. How do I keep getting myself into these situations? So, this is why Jay didn’t want me hanging around with his best friend. He’s a man-whore. Great. “There’s nothing to worry about, Donna. He’s too old for me anyway.”

“Mmhmm, when a man looks as good as he does it don’t matter much how old he is. How old are you, sweetheart? Bout twenty-seven or so?” “Twenty-five.” “That’s right, you graduated with Suzanne and Kimber, didn’t you?” “Yes, do you know what happened to them? I didn’t keep up with anyone when I moved away.” “Well, poor Suzanne married Willie Donovan and he died in a fishing accident. Kimber married a Marine named Caleb but they got divorced and now I think she’s engaged to another Marine out in Cali.” “Wow, that’s terrible about Willie, I remember him, he was a nice enough guy.” “He musta changed a lot then cuz he was a drunk when he died. Fell overboard in the swamps and drowned.” Donna is a true Southern gossip, God, love her. I

finish putting the shakers on the tables when a set of headlights flashes through the front window. “That your ride, honey?” “No, I’m walking home. Maybe it’s a customer?” “Well, they better go on home and make a sandwich cuz we’re closed.” “I’ll tell them…” The bell on the diner door rings hard when Drake flings it open. His face is set in a ferocious frown when he speaks through gritted teeth, “Hello, Donna. Tiana, it’s time to go home.” Donna doesn’t respond, she’s too busy looking back and forth between Drake and I trying to figure out what’s going on. “Drake, what are you doing here?” “We’ll talk about it in the car.” “We most certainly will not. I’m not going anywhere with you, I told you I’m walking home.” My words come out the way I want them to, stern

and forceful but my body is drawn to him. I take a step toward him. I take hold of a chair when I realize what I’ve done but it’s too late. He recognizes my conflict. “In the car, now.” “No.” I cross my arms over my chest with defiance, but when he starts toward me my eyes widen and I step back. He looks at Donna behind the counter while still walking toward me, “I’m sorry, Donna, but she’s done for today, she’ll be back at noon tomorrow.” Before I can think, he’s wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me off my feet. “Put me down! You can’t do this, I’m working!” I yell and look back at a stunned Donna. “Not anymore.” He hauls me out the door kicking and yelling to a black SUV where he opens the back door where he tosses me in and slides in next to me. There’s a

driver behind the wheel who doesn’t seem to notice that one of his passengers is kidnapping the other. “Let me out! This is kidnapping you know. I could call the police and have you arrested.” “To my house,” he tells the driver and turns to me, “You will do no such thing. You’re going to sit quietly and listen to me. Tiana, I took your computer and had a friend look at it today, that video you received came from an IP address somewhere close to Jewel Falls. You can’t be walking around alone at night and I could have told you this if you hadn’t hung up on me!” His words crescendo until his voice is booming and I’ve scooted as far away from him as I can. This guy is crazy. Why didn’t I listen to Jayden?” “How did you get my computer? That’s theft. You’re a thief. I’m probably safer out there walking around with some stalker than in here with you. You’re insane you know that? Certifiable. And

you’re a man-whore. I don’t know how I could have been so idiotic.” His nostrils flare when he inhales and closes his eyes as he tries to calm himself. When he opens them, I’m surprised at the pain I see there. “Do you honestly feel unsafe with me?” “Honestly? Yes, I do. You just fucking kidnapped me from my where I work.” “I’m angry with you for hanging up on me,” he says. “Well, I was angry with you for bossing me around.” “I was looking out for you not bossing, there’s a difference.” “Well, you need to learn some people skills because yours suck!” I exclaim. I glance over at him to see his reaction. I’ve been looking straight ahead while we argue because honestly seeing him in his uniform is too much. No

matter how pissed I am, he’s a gorgeous man in the most respected military uniform on earth and he makes me weak. “Tiana, look at me. Please,” he pleads. I do and he reaches out and places his hand on my bare knee. His touch is like a lightning bolt deactivating my anger and waking my desire for him. “Come here.” I scoot across the soft leather like a zombie under his spell. His arm slides behind my back and he pulls me against his chest and strokes my hair. “I care about you. If anything had happened to you walking home, I’d never forgive myself for not coming to take you home.” “You don’t care about me, you’re only interested in one thing.” “Oh really, and what’s that?”

“Getting into my pants.” “What’s wrong with that?” “People like you don’t associate feelings with sex. You just wanted another notch on your belt and you got it. You don’t have to bullshit me with the feelings stuff.” He holds me at arm's length and ducks down so he’s at my level looking me straight in the eyes. This is the first time he’s ever looked at me straight on. A shiver runs up my spine and I have the strangest sensation of disconnect. It feels like an electrical current has been interrupted and there is no longer communication happening between us. “Where did you get an idea that? If I say I care about you, I care about you, Goddammit. Who are you to tell me I don’t?” He’s right. Who am I to tell him anything? “Let’s just say you have a reputation.” “Oh yeah? Well, how about we talk about your

reputation, I’ve seen some pretty racy videos of you with men in a bar but you don’t see me judging you now, do you?” I lower my eyes to stare at the colorful bars and pins on the breast of his uniform. All the anger that’s been boiling in my blood since he dragged me out of the diner fizzles out. He’s right, again. I have no right to judge him. Maybe he is a playboy; that’s his prerogative but I don’t have to be a part of it. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to keep bringing that up, but somebody has been filling your head with shit about me that has nothing to do with us. People may think I’m an asshole for not committing to the women I sleep with but they don’t know me. They don’t know why I do what I do, and they don’t know how I feel about you.” I cock my head and gaze at his perfect scowling face. “And how is that? How do you feel about me, Drake?”

“I have very strong feelings for you and honestly I don’t know how to deal with them. Your brother doesn’t want us being involved and I don’t want you sneaking around behind his back and lying to him about seeing me. He has his reasons and they are valid. I won’t lie. We should stay away from each other. I just don’t know if I can.” “What are his reasons?” “You’re better off not knowing. Trust me, please.” “Sir, we’re almost there, would you like me to circle the block or do you want to go to the house?” Sir? Who is this guy? I’ve never heard an Uber driver be so formal. And what the hell is going on with Drake? He cares for me, so he storms into the diner like a raving lunatic to escort me home, but there is something he doesn’t want me to know about him that is bad enough to keep us apart? This can’t just be about Jayden, they’re friends. They could work it out; there’s got to be something

else. He’s admitted to not committing to the women he sleeps with, so it’s not that either. I felt something different with him last night and I know he felt it too. Maybe he’s scared? Maybe he thinks he’s too old for me? Jayden said he’s thirtyseven, that’s an eleven-year age gap, substantial for some people but not for me. I don’t have age hang-ups, I mean I’m not looking to date my grandpa or anything but eleven years isn’t a big deal. So, what could it be? “Go to the house.” “Yes, sir.” “Do you have one of your men driving us around?” I meet the driver’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “No, Max is a retired Marine. I don’t drive at night.” “Why not?” “I don’t see well in the dark.”

“Like night blindness? You can wear special glasses for that. It might save you some money paying a driver.” I catch the driver’s eyes again, “No offense.” “None taken, ma’am.” “I do wear glasses and contacts, it doesn’t correct it.” We pull into the driveway and Drake opens the door ending the conversation and offers me his hand. “You’re incorrigible,” I tell him. He cocks one eyebrow, “And your point is?” I huff and let him help me out. My feet ache and I’m weary, I don’t think I can deal with much more today. I need my bed and I need it now. Drake scoops me up into his arms. My feet never touch the ground. “Put it in the garage. I’m taking her next door,” he

says to Max. “Aren’t you worried the neighbors are going to see you lugging me across the lawn?” “Fuck the neighbors.” “Have you forgotten we live in Gossipville?” “No, I have not.” Hmm, well okay then, fuck the neighbors. I hope he’s ready for the entire town of Jewel Falls to weave some crazy stories and spread them far and wide. “You don’t have to carry me. I stink, and I know how to walk.” He glances down at me in the dark with a will you just shut up look and I roll my eyes. “Just sayin’.” “You smell fine and you’re tired.” “What if Jayden’s home?”

Drake says, “He’s not.” “How do you know?” I persevere. “Because he’s at Al’s drinking.” “Weren’t you supposed to meet him there?” I ask. “Yes,” he answers curtly. “He might have been worried when you didn’t show up and come home.” “His car isn’t here.” “He could have put it in the garage,” I suggest. “He washes the dust off his car before he puts it in the garage every night. The driveway is dry. What is your problem?” “My problem? What’s yours?” “Right now, you are my problem and I’m trying to put your question-asking ass to bed.” “Nobody asked you to make me your problem,” I

tell him, somewhat peeved. “Nobody had to, that’s the nature of problems.” He carries me up the steps onto the porch like I weigh nothing. He’s not even out of breath. “Do you have your key?” “As a matter of fact, I don’t. Someone ambushed me tonight and I didn’t have time to get my things.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Reach up there and grab the key.” He nods toward the top of the doorframe. My brother must be a moron, how could he leave a key out here for anyone to use? And he thinks I’m not taking this seriously enough. I slide my hand along the wood until I find the key. “Has this always been here?” I question. For as long as I’ve known your brother, it has. I thought maybe he would have taken it in, though, with someone threatening you.” “Exactly. How can he say I’m not being cautious

when he’s practically inviting the stalker into his house?” “He must have forgotten. I’ll talk to him about it.” He opens the screen door and unlocks the heavy oak door all while holding onto me. When we’re inside, he marches straight up to my bedroom and flicks on the light switch. He pauses so our eyes can adjust to the bright light of the room and then he carries me into the bathroom where he sits me on the vanity. “What are you doing?” “Drawing you a bath.” “I’ll probably fall asleep and drown,” I warn. Drake informs me, “I’m not leaving you alone.” “Oh,” I say, nonplussed. I watch him turn on the water and test the temperature. When he’s satisfied, he stands and opens a cupboard next to the tub for a towel as if he knows exactly where everything is. I consider

mentioning it, but suddenly I’m too tired to talk. When he turns to help me out of my clothes, my eyelids are drooping, the bathroom is warm and cozy and I’m exhausted. I wasn’t kidding about drowning. “Arms up.” I raise my arms over my head and he slips my greasy smelly blouse over my head and tosses it into the hamper. Half dressed, I’m slouched forward gripping the granite countertop feeling about as unattractive as I ever have. He leans in and places his hands on either side of my face to press a soft kiss on my pouty lips. “You’re so beautiful, I wish I could look at you forever.” He looks at me for such a long time I feel like maybe he was being literal about looking at me forever. When the tub is full. he shakes himself from his eye-feast and turns to shut it off. “Ready?”

I drop my chin to my chest and look at him through my lashes. “Like this?” I say referring to the fact that I’m still half dressed. He smiles a sympathetic smile and squats down to unlace my shoes and remove my socks. To my horror, he rubs my sweaty tired feet but after a few seconds of that, I’m melting all over the vanity. “Okay, up with you, beautiful girl.” He stands and pulls me to my feet. I start to unbutton my shorts but he moves my hands to do it himself. He pushes them over my hips along with my panties until they fall to the floor at my feet. He scoops me up again and gently lowers me into the water. It feels like heaven. I’ll admit I wanted to go straight to bed but this is a much better idea. He kneels next to the bath and pours body wash on his hands. “Close your eyes.” I do as I’m told and I’m rewarded with his roaming hands on my skin. He washes me, sliding his hands

over my tired muscles and massaging wherever he can reach. I’m about to slip under the water when his hand finds my sex. He slides the pad of his middle finger around my clit and cups my mound. My spent libido wakes up with a jolt and I grab the sides of the tub. “Drake…” I gasp. “Relax, baby, I’m going to make you come, dry you off and put you to bed.” I’m in no position to argue, so I do my best to relax and let him take care of me. My mind is a mess of desire, worries, and exhaustion. I can’t string two thoughts together and according to Drake, I’m not supposed to. His hands work my body into a frenzy until I’m on the edge of losing control and I hear the front door open. My eyes snap open and Drake stops moving. He raises his eyebrows in an amused expression and reaches over to lock the door. “Close your eyes.”

“But Jayden’s home, he’s going to catch you in here and flip his shit.” “He doesn’t know I’m here and I’m not done with you yet. Eyes. Closed.” My mouth pops open and my body tenses anticipating World War Three that’s sure to happen when Jay finds his best friend bathing me. I can’t relax and come now. “Tiana, open your legs. You’re cutting off circulation to my arm.” “Oh, I’m sorry I just… I can’t do this now.” “Yes, you can and you will.” I growl and sink back down into the water. There’s no sense arguing with him. I’ll just fake it so I can get the hell out of the tub and go to bed. I would never have imagined having to fake it with Drake after last night, but this is stressful. “Don’t you dare try to fake it either, I’ll be able to tell.”

I groan. He’s onto me. “Tiana,” Jayden yells up the stairs. “You home?” “Tell him yes, and that you’re in the bath and then you're going to bed.” “Yes,” I yell, “I’m in the tub.” I can hear his boots on the stairs. “He’s coming up here, shit.” “He won’t try to come into the bathroom. He’s your brother. Just tell him you’ll see him in the morning.” “How was work? Did ya get an Uber to bring ya home?” Jayden says from my bedroom. Drake nudges my legs apart with his arm and presses his thumb on my clit while he slips two long fingers into my pussy and strokes my G-spot. Now I’m even more flustered. My brother wants to talk about my first day of work and this man wants to make me come at the same time. “Answer him,” Drake whispers with a

mischievous smile. He’s loving this and I want to kill him and kiss him at the same time. “It was, uh, it was good and yeah.” “You okay? Nothing weird happened, did it?” Oh no, nothing weird at all. Your best friend is in here with his hand between my legs trying to get me off while I chat with you about my day, but other than that everything’s peachy. Drake picks up the pace and starts sliding his thumb in circles around and around my clit rhythmically. A whimper escapes my lips and I hear Jayden come closer to the bathroom door. “T? What’s going on in there?” “Nothing, I’m just trying to relax in the bath. I worked my ass off today and I’m sore.” Drake nods his head in approval and mouths the words good girl. I want to yell at him and tell him he’s out of his mind, but he has me on the verge of an orgasm again just like that.

His hands are magic and his commanding presence overrides the embarrassment of having my brother mere feet away on the other side of my bathroom door. Somehow Drake knows he has me and there’s no turning back now. We’ve gone too far. I grip the sides of the tub and brace my feet on either side of the faucet and bite my lip so hard it draws blood to keep from calling out Drake’s name. I arch my back and clamp my legs together pulsing around his fingers. The water sloshes up over the edge at the exact moment another whimper slips from my lips, but Jayden says something at the same time so I don’t think he heard me. “Okay, you hungry? I can make us some dinner if you want.” I’m gasping for breath and Drake looks pleased with himself. Bastard. “What?” “I said are you hungry? You sure you’re okay in

there? You sound kinda funny.” Funny, sure right, I wonder if he will ever find out that he knows what I sound like when I climax. Ew. “No, no. I ate at the diner and I’m going straight to bed. Would you mind closing my door on your way out? It’s kind of breezy up here.” “Of course. We runnin’ in the mornin’?” He sounds like he’s hoping I’ll say no, so I grant him his wish. “I think I’ll skip again. I stayed up too late last night. I’m going to sleep in tomorrow.” “Cool. What time you work?” “Noon to close.” “Okay, see you tomorrow night then. Don’t walk anywhere, ya hear? Take an Uber or catch a ride with somebody. I don’t want you running around alone.” I roll my eyes, “Yes, Daddy.”

He doesn’t comment and I hear him walk to the door and close it behind him. I’m about to give Drake a piece of my mind via a hissing whisper but he’s one step ahead of me again covering my mouth with his. His kiss is demanding and urgent making me forget what I was about to say. His hand slinks around the back of my neck. He winds his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back exposing my neck. He abandons my lips and licks a path down my wet neck to my chest and sucks firmly on my stiff nipple. I cry out and his free hand covers my mouth to quiet me while he kisses his way to my other breast, where he pays it the same attention. His mouth finds its way back to mine and I wrap my arms around his neck when he reaches into the water and lifts me out, never breaking our kiss. The small bathroom is steamy and warm but goosebumps spread across my skin as I shiver in his arms. He turns me around to face the mirror and places my hands on the vanity spreading my legs

apart with his foot. He moves my hair over one shoulder and nuzzles into the curve of my neck. My heart is beating so loudly I can hardly hear him when he murmurs in my ear, “I need you before I leave.” His hands slide up my slick wet skin over my hips across my ribs to cup my breasts. He kisses the back of my neck and my goosebumps have their own goosebumps. I feel him move away and his hands leaving my breasts. One slides around to the center of my back and gently pushes me down until I’m bent over with my face pressed against the granite counter of the vanity. I lick my dry lips and pant with want waiting for what’s next. I hear him rustling around, and although I try to see what he’s doing in the mirror, it’s too fogged over. The sound of a condom wrapper being torn open tells me he was getting into his wallet for protection. I’m not sure I like that he carries a condom in his pocket, but right now I’m not going to complain.

He unzips his pants and rolls on the condom. His hot hands take hold of my slick hips and he bends over to kiss a trail down my spine to the beginning of my ass. Crouching down behind me, he spreads my ass cheeks and gives me one long lick from my clit to the pucker of my ass before standing and sliding his thick cock into my aching sex. “Quick and dirty, baby, I need to get you to bed.” He digs his fingers into the flesh of my hips and pumps in and out relentlessly. I hold onto the edges of the counter and lose myself in every single rough thrust until he crashes into me one last time and we come together silently. He lies down covering me with his body, pressing his cold medals against my wet skin still breathing hard and says, “What am I doing?” I’m unsure if he’s talking to himself or me. Sometimes people say things in the heat of the moment and don’t even realize they’ve said anything out loud. I could make a smart-ass

comment about him not knowing what he’s doing, but a twinge in my chest says to keep it to myself. He kisses the back of my neck and slides out of me; discards the condom in the trash and lifts my sated body off the vanity. He turns me to face him and I lean my ass on the counter while he reaches for the towel behind me. I watch him dry my skin with a reverence I’ve never seen before. The way he looks at every inch of me while he works feels like he’s memorizing my body. Kneeling in front of me, he finishes and leans in to press his cheek against my tummy. I run my hands over his freshly cut hair and hold him there. I get a feeling like there is something more going on here than I’m aware of. He stands up and wraps the towel around me and unlocks the door. He’s about to open it when I reach out to stop him. “Wait, let me go first and make sure he’s not in my

room,” I whisper. He narrows his eyes and cocks his head. “Is that something you think he would do?” I pause to think. Normally I would say no, but lately, Jay’s been sort of nuts and I’m not sure of the lengths he would go to keep me safe. But hiding in my room when I’m taking a bath is creepy, even for him. I shake my head and let go of his hand. He turns the knob and lifts me into his arms again like I’m a helpless, weak creature. Without so much as a glance around, he carries me to the bed and stands me up to pull back the quilt. “What do you sleep in?” I point at the bottom of the bed where my boxers and tank top are. He tugs the tank over my head and helps me step into the shorts. “In.” He points at the bed and I crawl in and let him cover me.

“Goodnight, Firecracker.” I stick out my lip and pout. “I like it when you call me ‘beautiful girl’ better.” He taps my lip with his pointer finger, “Goodnight, Beautiful Girl.” “Goodnight, Gorgeous Man.” That mischievous smile appears again and for the hundredth time since I laid eyes on Drake, I wish my stupid brother would lose his attitude about his best friend. Drake is irritating and stubborn as hell, but those are also the qualities that turn me on and challenge my spirited fiery side. He isn’t all bossy and dominant, though. There’s a soft vulnerable side to him that he doesn’t like to show but I’ve seen glimpses of it and it’s almost more attractive than his dominance, almost. “How are you going to get out of here?” I ask him, worriedly.

“Through the front door,” he states unequivocally. “Are you crazy? Wait don’t answer that, I already know you are.” “Jayden and I have been walking in and out of each other’s houses for years, He won’t know I was up here.” I reach up and cup his cheek in my hand. He closes his eyes and leans in for a moment. “This is a bad idea, we should stop,” he says. “Yes, I know.” “I have to go, don’t go walking around by yourself tomorrow, ya hear?” he says mimicking Jayden’s tone from earlier. I snicker and snuggle down into my soft pillow. “Okay, Daddy.” “Mm, I kind of like the sound of that.” “You’re incorrigible,” I tell him.

“And your point is?” he asks. He places a chaste kiss on my nose and strolls out into the hall like he lives here, turning off the light on his way out. I’ve been ready to pass out for hours and now I can’t sleep, thanks to that beautiful man.

CHA P T ER 18

Drake

IT’S BEEN a week since I took Tiana home and bathed her. A week since I’ve touched her, smelled her sweet scent, or even seen her. Being pulled out of town unexpectedly to the other side of the United States is probably the best and the worst thing that could have happened to us.

Distance is the only cure for the all-encompassing fever happening between Tiana and me. There is no way I could have broken things off after the night we spent together. She’s too tempting, too sweet, and too brazen and sassy to resist. I may have to stay here at Camp Pendleton permanently. It’s beautiful here in California. The heat is dryer and the sky seems bluer and the bugs are smaller. Traffic is a bitch, but I have completely given up on driving so being stuck in traffic is an opportunity to get some work done. The one thing Cali doesn’t have is Tiana. I miss her, and not just her body but also her laugh and her sassy personality. If there ever were a woman made for me, she is the one. If I weren’t going blind, I would go so far as to say that I’d make her mine permanently if she agreed to be. And she would, I’d make sure of that. She has called me every morning since I left and texted me every night before she goes to bed. I haven’t responded once even though her messages

make my chest ache and stir up memories of our night together. Her texts are always one word. The first night was Gone? The second was, Still? Then Lonely, and the next night came, Pissed. That one was bittersweet. She needs to be pissed. It will help her move on, even though that’s not what I really want. It’s been eight days and I’m lying in bed at 2200 hours waiting for her text like a love-struck teenager. It’s better this way, in the long run. She is young and deserves so much more than I will be able to provide for her. The proof that I am making the right decision came yesterday as I was walking outside with another officer. I had to stop and catch my balance when the change happened, and Officer Garcia who has been showing me around caught my arm and kept me from falling. The spot in my vision became darker and slightly larger blocking more light and restricting my vision more than ever. Last night, it was evident

that I will never be able to advance past my current rank of Major to Lieutenant Colonel. There is no way I can pass my upcoming physical exam with this much of my sight gone. This morning it occurred to me that retiring on the West Coast might be the solution to my Tiana addiction. It’s not ideal for me, as I am familiar with my surroundings at home. Small-town living would be better for me too. Learning to live without my sight will be difficult at first, but having everything I need within walking distance is convenient. The thought of Tiana living next-door and watching my decline, however, is gut-wrenching. I can’t stand knowing she will be watching me fumble around while I learn how to be handicapped. It makes me physically ill. I’m too proud to let her see me that way. I won’t let it happen. My phone buzzes in my hand and I raise the screen so that I can see it out of the corner of my eye. It’s from her I can tell because her picture

accompanies her name on the header of my screen but the message is blurry. I bring it closer and turn the phone until I can read the word of the night. Scared. I sit up and swing my legs around to the side of the bed to get up but I don’t know where I think I’m going. She’s thousands of miles away and I’m in no condition to help her, but she’s scared and I can’t ignore that. I tap the audio text button and speak into the phone, “Scared of what?” Seconds after I press send, my phone rings. “Tiana? What’s going on?” She sniffs and I know she’s been crying. “I got another video the day you left, it was a flash of that night, just a few seconds, but it looked like…” She hesitates and her voice catches. “It looked like what?” “It looked like I was in bed, but not my bed.”

“Was there anyone with you?” My fucking blood is boiling, if I ever get my hands on whoever did this to her, I’ll choke the life out of him slowly and torture him. Fucking waterboarding, fingernail removing, electric shock, limb removing torture. “It was too fast, I couldn’t tell.” “Why didn’t you call and tell me right away?” “I didn’t know where you were and when I did try to call you didn’t pick up. I thought, I… I don’t know what I thought.” Of course she doesn’t because I left her high and dry with no explanation. I’m sure Jayden told her I had to leave town unexpectedly for some training in Cali, but other than that I just dropped off the grid. “Okay, take a deep breath, baby, and tell me what’s got you upset right now. If that video came last week, what’s scaring you now?” “I just got home from work and the door was

unlocked. When I pushed it open, I heard a noise in the house. Jayden’s not home. He’s helping a friend fix his car tonight.” “Did you leave the house? Please tell me you’re out of that house.” “Yes, I didn’t know where to go so I’m sitting on your porch in the dark.” “Do you see any movement at your house?” “The light is on in my bedroom, I don’t remember if I left it on when I went to work today, though.” “Listen to me carefully, Tiana, there is a key buried under the third rose bush in front of the house. It’s in a Ziploc bag and it’s buried deeply, and it may have shifted around because I’ve never had to use it, but I want you to dig it up and go inside. Fucking rip the rose out of the ground if you have to, but get that key now, understand?” “Uh huh, don’t hang up. I’m going to lay the phone down while I do it.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Beautiful Girl, just get the key.” I am going somewhere, though, home. I started throwing things into my carry-on as soon as she said she was in trouble. I sit down and yank open my laptop to find a red-eye flight. “You doing okay? Did you call Jayden and tell him to come home?” “He didn’t answer, but I sent him a text.” Fucking great, Mr. Overprotective is MIA when she needs him the most. “How about the neighbors, baby? Does anyone still have their lights on?” I’m using my calmest tone trying to keep her from panicking. She sniffles and I ache with the urge to help her but I can’t and it infuriates me. “No, I think everyone’s gone to bed.” “You find the key yet?”

“The ground is so hard, Drake, I don’t think I can get to it.” She’s getting frantic, I need to do something stop her escalating panic. “On my porch, there is a bench with a cushion on it under the window, do you see it? Look up on the porch.” “Um, yeah, I see it.” “The top lifts off and inside are some gardening tools and gloves, go get the gloves and the little hand shovel and get that bush out of the ground. The hose is coiled up next to the steps, too, if you need to soften the dirt.” “Okay.” I hear her rummage around getting what she needs. She’s not crying anymore, she has a mission to accomplish and her mind is on that. “Drake,” she whispers and I can tell she’s holding still. “What, baby?” “I saw somebody walk past my window. Oh my

God, there is somebody in there.” “Concentrate on getting the key, keep digging, you need to get into my house.” “Okay, but what if he sees me…” “Don’t worry about that. Just get the damn key.” I hear her lay the phone down and chisel at the hard soil. It’s been a dry summer and I haven’t been home to water anything for over a week. My audio software on my computer voices that it’s found a flight that leaves in an hour and I tell it to book it and abandon my hotel room. “I got it, Drake. I found the key. I’m going inside.” I blow out a relieved breath and press the elevator button for the lobby. “Good, go inside and lock the door. Don’t turn on the lights. Do you think you can check the locks on the doors and windows in the dark? Everything should be locked up, but I want you to check to be

sure.” She’s panting into the phone and I’m imagining her in my foyer looking around the sparsely decorated living room. She’s only been there once but it should be easy to move around in the dark, it’s designed for that after all. “Yeah, I’m inside. The door’s locked and…” It sounds like she’s reaching or bending over, “The living room windows are locked. I’m going to check the back door.” My elevator dings, I exit and stalk toward the front desk. The clerk’s eyes widen when she sees me approaching. Still dressed in my uniform, I pack my tone full of authority and tell her to call for a car to take me to the airport right away. “It’s an emergency,” I add and she fumbles with the phone when she picks it up. “You’re coming home?” “Yes, I’m coming home. Are you kidding me? You’re clearly not safe there with your idiot

brother who leaves house keys out like invitations and isn’t reachable when you’re in trouble.” “The back door is locked.” “Alright. Listen carefully now, do you know how to use a gun?” “A gun? Drake, you don’t think he will come over here, do you?” “I don’t know what that fucker is going to do but if he comes near you I want you to shoot him, understand?” “With what?” “In the middle drawer in the kitchen, there is another key. It unlocks my gun box under my bed. Take the key upstairs and get my Glock out of the box.” “Found it.” “Good, good, go upstairs.”

I hear her soft quick footsteps hurrying across the hardwood floors and up the steps. She pauses suddenly and my heart skips a beat. I stop in the middle of the hotel lobby and wait for her to say something, but I only hear her shallow panting on the line. “Tiana? What’s wrong? Why did you stop?” “To look out the window,” Tiana says. “What window?” “The one on the landing that faces my house. Oh God, I think he can see me,” she says, scared. “You’re imagining things, he can’t see you in the dark unless he has night-vision. Get my gun, hurry.” I close my eyes and listen hard to her pitter-patter up the rest of the stairs and into my bedroom where she closes the door behind her. “I don’t see it. Drake, I can’t find a box.” “It’s there. Keep looking,” I encourage her.

“No, no it’s not, there’s nothing here.” Her voice is frantic and she’s breathing harder. Where’s my fucking gun? She must be flustered. It’s got to be there, I never move that box. “Use the flashlight on your phone to look under the bed, but keep it held down low. You don’t want him to see where you are.” “Okay, flashlight. Keep it down. Look for the box.” She’s repeating my instructions, but her voice is shaky and she sounds like she’s losing it. “It’s not here, Drake, there’s nothing here.” Impossible, she must be mistaken. “Baby, calm down and take a deep breath. Forget about the box I’ve got another gun in the closet in a safe.” “I’m scared, he was looking right at me, I swear to God, Drake, I’m not imagining things.” “I believe you. Let’s concentrate on the other gun now, okay?”

“You believe me?” She sounds like a five-year-old little girl lost in the grocery store. I’ve never felt so much anxiety and I’ve been on two tours in Afghanistan. My instinct to keep this woman safe no matter what is mighty overwhelming. I’m too far away. We need help. “I do, sweetheart. Now go,” I instruct her. I turn my phone to the side and tap open a new text box. I can hardly see what I’m doing, I usually use my automated texting these days, but I’m on the phone with Tiana and I can’t hang up so I’ll have to type. When I’ve successfully typed in Jayden’s name, I send him a simple message. Tiana’s in trouble and needs help NOW! I press send just as she asks for the safe’s combination. “Two to the right, six left, six right, eighteen left, twenty-one right.” I listen as the drums of the combination lock roll back and forth.

“Damn, I messed it up, tell me again,” she tells me. I repeat the combination and listen to the safe click open. My fucking gun had better be there, nobody knows that combo. “I have it, it’s here.” “Good, now try to calm down a little I don’t want you to shoot yourself in the damn foot.” I hear the phone being set down and the magazine being shoved into the gun and the slide being racked. I almost drop my phone. “Tiana!” She shuffles around picking up the phone when she hears me yell. “What did you just do?” “I got your gun, you told me to shoot him, I can’t shoot him without ammo.” “You know how to handle a Glock?” “Of course, I grew up with Marines.” Yes, of course, how stupid of me. Jayden would have taught her to shoot and handle a gun properly.

He was an expert marksman. “I want you to put the phone down and concentrate on the gun in your hands. Put me on speaker. I won’t say anything. Just stay in the closet with the door closed until Jay gets there.” “He’s coming?” “I texted him. Hold on, let me see if he replied.” “Major Valentine, sir?” a voice says from behind me. “Yes,” I acknowledge. “Your car is here.” “Thank you.” I follow the bellhop to the cab and tell him to take me to the airport. Speak of the devil my phone buzzes when Jayden responds. I’m on my way. Where are you? he asks. “He’s on his way, baby, just sit tight until he gets

there,” I say. “I’m putting you down now, you’re on speaker,” she says. I text Jayden to tell him where to find Tiana and that there is someone in his house. Why is she in your house? A growl rumbles up from my throat. Why is he asking stupid fucking questions? Why aren’t YOU in YOUR house protecting YOUR sister? I shoot back. She hears me growl and whispers my name, “Drake?” “Shush, it’s nothing.” “No, I want to tell you something.” “Baby, you need to be quiet.” “I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts and I’m scared,” Tiana says quietly. Fuck, if my heart doesn’t break in two. If I could

crawl through the phone, I’d march next door and shoot that fucking intruder, come home, lock Tiana up and keep her in my bed forever. I’ve never loved anyone other than my parents. I never let anyone get close enough. No woman has ever made me feel the things that Tiana makes me feel. She is the only one who holds the key to my black stone-heart and right now I know that I love her. Blindness be fucking damned. I love her. I would give my life for her, kill for her, lie, cheat, steal, I’d even give up the Corps for her. “I miss you, too, baby. I’m coming home.”

CHA P T ER 19

Tiana

I’VE NEVER BEEN SO glad that my brother raised me to be comfortable with guns. This situation with the videos and now someone breaking into our house has gotten completely out of hand. I almost feel like I’d be safer back in New York. “Tiana?” Drake’s whisper fills the closet where

I’m crouching in the corner behind his clothes and next to his safe. “Yeah?” I whisper back. “I’m almost to the airport, but I won’t get on the plane until I’m positive you’re safe. What’s happening?” “Nothing, it’s quiet.” “Where the fuck is your brother? I’ll be there before him at this rate.” “How’s he going to get in?” “I figured he would text you. Hang on, I’m going into the airport.” I hear a beep on the line. “Your brother is on the other line. I’m going to click over and tell him to hurry the fuck up and I’ll be right back. Will you be all right for a second?” “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Wow, that’s a lie. I’m

trembling on the floor with a gun in my hands, I’m scared and Drake is the only thing keeping me from flipping out. I wish Jayden would get here, but more than that I wish Drake were here in person instead of just on the phone. I’m telling Jayden how I feel about Drake. I don’t care what he thinks anymore. I thought it was over when he went to California without a word and wouldn’t return my calls. I figured Jayden had gotten suspicious and threatened him. Although now that I look back, I realize that Drake isn’t the type of man you can threaten. Something else must have caused him to shut me out, something big. I know what we were feeling for one another wasn’t your average fling. It was deeper, stronger. Kinda like what I imagine love must feel like. After being with Drake, I know what love isn’t. It isn’t a drunk boy who shows up at the bar at closing time for a booty call and dips out before

you wake up in the morning. I know it isn’t being stood up on Valentine’s Day because a boy decided hanging with his friends would be more fun. I know it isn’t the missionary position every single time you have sex with a boy who is only worried about his own pleasure. “Tiana?” his whispering voice penetrates the dark, startling me. “Shit, you scared me.” I’m so on edge I’m liable to shoot my toe off at the sound of a pin dropping. “I’m sorry. Jayden should be there any minute,” Drake tells me. “He’s not going in his house, is he? That guy could be armed.” “Who taught you how to handle a weapon, Tiana?” “Jayden.” “He’s a Marine and someone is threatening his family. Do you think he’s unarmed?”

‘No, I guess not. So, he’s coming here first?” “He’s only coming there. He called the police to come to the house and he is going to text you when he’s in the driveway. I want you to be careful, though. Take the gun with you downstairs and look out the window in the living room before you let anybody in. And don’t get trigger happy either, I don’t want to scrape your brother off my porch.” “Oh my God, don’t say things like that.” “I’m keeping you on your toes, giving you the worst-case scenario so anything better, will be a win.” “Not shooting my brother is more than just a win.” “I don’t know, I wouldn’t mind shooting him right now.” “What? Why?” I hiss into my phone that’s lying on top of the safe. “Never mind. Do you have a text yet?”

“No, I don’t have a text. Now tell me why you want to shoot my brother.” “Sassy,” he prevaricates. “You’ll think sassy when I blow a hole clean through all of your uniforms.” He chuckles and I groan with frustration. “You’re incorrigible.” “And your point is?” he asks. “Drake!” “Shush, you’re hiding remember?” he reminds me. “Tell me what’s going on, and yes, I’m aware that I am hiding. My legs are getting numb from squatting in here.” “I told him,” Drake says. Every muscle in my body tenses and my hands tighten around the gun. He told him that we slept together? No way, he wouldn’t do that.

“You told him what?” I demand. Drake says quietly, “I told him that I love you.” “You… you love me?” This must be what shock feels like and people in shock shouldn’t be holding a gun, so I lay it down on the floor facing away from me and let myself fall back onto my butt with my back against the wall. “I do, you’re mine and I’m not giving you up because of your pigheaded brother. I’m sorry to tell you like this, I know it’s not very romantic over the phone with you holding a gun while hiding in my closet, but I want you to understand that I’m serious about you, about us.” “I love you too.” I don’t plan on saying the words, but they come tumbling out of my mouth. How can I love somebody I met less than two weeks ago? Aren’t there rules about these things? A lot of people would call it lust at first sight, but somehow, I know that’s not what this is. This is what it feels like to be loved, to be put first

and cherished over all things, to be protected and worshiped and cared for. I might not know his favorite color or his father’s name or his hobbies or what he eats for breakfast. But I know his soul and his character and his body. Oh my God, do I know his body. With that thought, I’m lost in the memories of our only night together. Could this be the start of a lifetime of nights like that with Drake? Is this what happily ever after is? “Baby? Have you gotten a text from your brother yet?” “Oh, um, I don’t know. Let me look.” I slide the phone off the safe and see a text sent less than a minute ago from my brother. Finally. I had no idea his friend lived so far away. I thought everybody in Jewel Falls was within a five-minute drive. I tell him, “Yes, he’s outside.” “Take the gun downstairs and check. Make 100%

sure it’s him before you unlock that door.” I tuck the phone in the breast pocket of my shirt leaving it on speaker, pick up the gun and stand up on my wobbly legs. The strong scent of sandalwood and shoe polish in his closet isn’t one I’m likely to forget after this. I breathe it deep into my lungs like an addict getting one last fix before I leave. “When does your flight leave?” I whisper exiting the closet and creeping across the room with the Glock in my grip, being careful to keep my hand near but not on the trigger the way Jayden taught me when I was thirteen. “In thirty minutes.” I stop before I leave the bedroom when I remember that he never told me what Jayden said about us. Do I want to be rescued by my furious brother? “Hey, how pissed is Jay? You said you wanted to shoot him, maybe I don’t want him to rescue me. Maybe I should just wait until you get home.”

“He’s angry, but you’re his sister, he loves you. I don’t think he’s going to bitch you out after everything you’ve been through tonight.” I snort, “You don’t know my brother as well as you think you do then. If you get home and I’ve disappeared, he’s probably shipped me to a monastery in Italy.” “I’ll keep that in mind. You’d better hurry up. I don’t want him breaking down my front door.” I open the bedroom door and see red and blue flashing lights sweeping through the window on the stairs facing our house. “The police are here.” “Good, what about Jayden?” “I don’t know, I’m going downstairs now.” I tiptoe down the stairs without making a sound and press my back against the wall next to the front window. I feel like I’m in an action movie with my back pressed against the wall a gun in my hands and police cruiser lights whirling around the room.

I take a quick peek out the window and see Jayden standing at the front door with his hands on the frame. He hasn’t said anything. I imagine he’s afraid of being shot through the door by his freaked out little sister. I pad to the door with my back still on the wall. “He’s here, I’m going to let him in.” “You’re sure it’s him?” “Uh, yeah, he’s my brother, I’m looking right at him.” “Watch out now. I’m going to be home in a few hours.” “Is that a threat or a promise?” “Both, open the door so I know you’re safe. My plane is boarding.” “Jay?” “Thank fucking God, Tiana. Open this damn door.”

I turn the lock and open the door a crack to make sure it’s not a trick. “Jesus, T, put the gun away.” He pushes the door open and steps inside closing and locking it behind him. He reaches for Drake’s gun, but I’ve been clinging to it for so long he has to pry it from my fingers to get it away from me. He drops the magazine out and lays both on a table next to the door. “Are you okay? He didn’t do anything to you, did he?” “Who’s he? And no, I was lucky I got ahold of Drake.” “Don’t talk about that fucker right now. I can’t believe you two were messing around behind my back.” “It wasn’t like that, Jay, we…” I started to explain. “I said I don’t want to hear it, I mean it, not a word.” Jay was pissed. A knock on the door makes me jump and Jayden

wraps his arms around me and rubs my back. “It’s the police, it’s okay.” “Tiana, I’m hanging up now. I’ll see you soon,” Drake says, from the pocket of my shirt. “Okay, thank you for helping me. Let me know when you land.” “I will.” I hear his flight being called in the background right before the call disconnects. Jayden gives my phone a filthy, dirty look before opening the door. Our small-town Police Chief Sully, informs us that no one was found inside the house and nothing looks to have been disturbed. Great, now everybody is going to think I’m some paranoid crazy city-girl. That ought to be great gossip on the town square tomorrow. “Thanks, Chief. So, you think it’s safe to go home?”

“Looks like it, I don’t see hide nor hair that anybody’s been in there.” “I’m not going back into that house. I don’t care what you say. I saw a man looking at me from inside my bedroom. He was there, you guys and your flashing lights probably scared him off.” “Well, if that’s all it took to scare him off, lil lady, y’all probably don’t have nothing to worry about.” I roll my eyes and huff, “Whatever, go, leave, I can take care of myself.” I snatch the Glock off the table and shove the magazine back into it. “Whoa, lil lady! You need to put the weapon down slowly, put it on the floor and step away with your hands up,” says the Chief. “I’m on private property and I have a license. If you’re not going to protect me, I’ll do it myself.” I purse my lips daring him to argue with me. When he doesn’t, I turn and go back upstairs to Drake’s room and lock the door.

“Tiana! Where are you going? You need to come home with me. I won’t go anywhere I promise,” Jayden yells. I don’t answer him. I let the sound of the door locking say it for me. I’m staying right here in Drake’s bedroom, the second safest place I know. The first is in his arms but I’ll have to wait for that.

CHA P T ER 2 0

Drake

MY FLIGHT WAS long and uncomfortable and I hate being out of contact with Tiana. The second the wheels hit the ground, I take my phone off airplane mode and send her a message. It’s hard typing instead of speaking the words, but I do it, not without a couple of spelling errors, I’m sure.

I’m glad to find that she’s at my house and even more so when she tells me she’s locked in my bedroom and that she slept in my bed all night. I don’t ask why she didn’t go home, although I can imagine, or where Jayden is. I can’t see shit on my phone and it’s frustrating the hell out of me. I feel like I’m in a race against time getting to Tiana. My sight’s deteriorating rapidly and I want to spend as much time as possible memorizing every inch of her. Max picks me up at the airport in his own car and drops me off at home just in time for my usual morning run. I’m not going to need the exercise today, though, I’ll get enough without leaving my bed. I glance next door to Jayden’s house. Everything looks quiet, his truck is in the driveway which is not like him, but last night was hectic, I’m sure he forgot about it. On the porch, I take out my key and go to slide it in the keyhole when the door flies open and Tiana flings herself into my arms wrapping her legs

around my waist and nuzzling her face into my neck. I could get used to this. “Mm,” she moans and I drop my bag and slide my hands under her supple ass and carry her inside. She aligns her lips with my ear and shushes me before pulling away and nodding toward the couch. Jayden is sleeping on his back with his gun on the coffee table next to him. I nod and close the door with only a click leaving my bag on the porch. I’ll get it later, there’s nothing valuable in there anyway. I toe off my shoes and slide them under the stairs with my foot and carry her up to my room without waking her protector. Inside I lock the door and do what I’ve been longing to do for almost two weeks. I cover her mouth with mine and cup her ass harder pressing my solid cock against her pussy.

She moans into my mouth and I take her straight to the bed and toss her into the center. “Take your clothes off.” She’s only wearing a pair of white lace panties and a button up shirt that’s already unbuttoned, no bra. She shrugs off the shirt and slides her panties off while I undress. This isn’t the time for an hour of foreplay; we’ve been missing each other for nine days. I need her now, no games, no kink, no playing. I want to be inside her making her come over and over until we’ve made up for lost time. I need to fuck her, make love to her, connect on a level like I’ve never done with anyone else. When she’s bare, she lies on her back propped on her elbows and I crawl up the bed like a wild animal with my cock bobbing up and down skimming along her hot skin. I want to feel her around me without a barrier between us. “Are you on the pill?” I ask spreading her knees apart with my hands positioning myself between them.

“Yes, and my doctor said all my tests were negative after that night when…” I press my long pointer finger against her lips. She doesn’t need to explain herself any more than that and I sure as hell don’t want to talk about her lost time right now. She stops talking and I slip my finger between her plump lips into her mouth and she sucks it as I drag it out slowly. She’s so fucking beautiful with her dark hair fanned out on my pillow and the peaks of her nipples stiff and ready on top of her soft perfect breasts. Her brown skin glows in the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window. Dust motes float through the streak of sunshine cutting across her flat abdomen and her right eye sparkles like pale blue glass while her left one is dark and full of lust. She lifts her hands to my chest testing the water, seeing what I will allow. “No rules this time, just you and me, baby.”

I drag my finger down her chin between her breasts and over her quivering navel until I slide it into the drenched folds of her pussy. I moan with appreciation, All of this and she’s insanely responsive too. I don’t deserve her. I push that thought away and slip two fingers and then three inside and curl them around to stroke her sensitive G-spot. “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” “Yes.” Her hands slide down exploring my abdomen, she follows them with her eyes. “Did you touch yourself while you waited?” Her eyes snap up to meet mine. My tone is accusatory, but I don’t really give a fuck if she got off without me if she was in my bed thinking about my cock pleasuring her. “Yes.” I love that she’s honest. “Did you come?” She hesitates and bites her lip unsure of how to

answer. I slip my fingers out and circle her clit letting her off the hook. “It’s okay if you did. We’ve missed each other, but from now on save your orgasms for me, understand?” She nods in agreement. I settle over her and enter deep, holding the position. I drop my chin to my chest and moan. Her scent billows in the air as she sinks into the mattress under my weight and I’m intoxicated with the peachy vanilla combination. “It’s like you were made for me. Fuck, Tiana, you feel so good.” Her hands slide around to my ass and she wraps her legs around my waist digging her heels into the small of my back. She doesn’t talk a lot during sex. I think she prefers to let her body do the talking and there’s no fucking way am I complaining about that. I slide out and begin a slow deep penetrating rhythm. I want to kiss her but I want to watch her more. I want to see her face every time she comes

until I can’t see her anymore. I want that image burned into my memory so deeply, that even when I’m blind I’ll see her coming apart in my arms. Her soft breasts brush against my chest with every thrust until I rise and slide her legs over my shoulders to go deeper. Her arms fly out to her sides and she grips the sheets arching into me and I pick up the pace pounding into her sweet pussy. I’m not running a marathon this morning. This is more of a fifty-yard dash. I rise to my knees and delve so deeply into her hot sex she cries out, curling her fingers around my biceps and digging her nails into my flesh. I watch as her facial muscles twitch and she alternates between parting her lips and biting the bottom one until she clenches her jaw tight and her eyes roll back into her head. The signs of her impending orgasm spur me on and she meets me thrust for thrust using my arms as leverage until the walls of her sex are convulsing

around my swollen erection. She whimpers and gasps tiny little breaths like she’s drowning in desire, it’s a beautiful sensual sound that pushes me over the edge with her. I sink into her one last time and lose myself in the feeling of coming with nothing to separate us. I have never had sex without a condom, ever. Everything about sex with Tiana is different. Better, more intense, but the idea that an actual part of me has now become part of her is enslaving. Sex will never be the same after Tiana. If she can’t accept my impending blindness, I am ruined for all women. No one will ever live up to her. She is my perfect woman. She is my Empress. She is my Queen.

CHA P T ER 2 1

Tiana

I CAN’T SLEEP. I’m tired, but I have so many things running through my mind. Drake and I are spooning. I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck and his signature sandalwood scent is magnified after making love. I’ve tried to get up three times and three times he

has tightened his hold on me and mumbled in his sleep. He must not have slept on his flight because he’s exhausted. I can’t blame him. I hate flying. I can never get comfortable enough to fall to sleep. But I need to get up and go see what Jayden is doing if he’s awake. He doesn’t know Drake is home yet and as far as I know, he isn’t aware that we made up for lost time the second he arrived. It still blows my mind that Drake told Jayden that he loves me. Loves me. How did this happen? One week I’m at the lowest point of my life, and two weeks later I’m in love with the perfect man. Sure, he’s eleven years older than me, but I can’t find one thing that I’m not attracted to. He’s successful, drop-dead gorgeous, we both love to run, and he’s practically family to my brother, although that can be a positive and a negative now. From what I can tell he’s a tidy guy and one hell of a protector. And the sex, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

The natural way he takes control and makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world is astounding. I’ve been missing out all these years with my unskilled amateur boyfriends, maybe because they were only boyfriends. Drake is one hundred percent, pure man, through and through. Sometimes I see a tiny bit of vulnerability in his eyes that doesn’t seem to fit his personality but everyone has something that makes them weak. Drake is that something for me. I glance at the clock on the bedside table, 0830, Jay should be up by now. The Glock still lies on the table with the magazine next to it. I wonder if he left it out on purpose or just didn’t take the time because he was too tired. “You’re awake.” Drake’s sleepy voice fills my ear and my body switches gears. The urge to get up is gone and I want to stay here in bed and hide from my problems indefinitely. I twist around in his arms and face him. “So are you.”

“The difference is you want to be and I don’t. Why do you keep trying to leave?” I reach up and place my hand on his scruffy cheek. He needs to shave, it’s been more than a day or two since he has from the looks of his new beard. “I’m not trying to leave. I just have a lot of restless energy after last night and a lot of things on my mind starting with the fact that my brother is sleeping on your couch.” “Don’t worry about your brother, I’ll handle him.” I bend my elbows and tuck my hands in between our warm bodies and adjust my leg on his thigh. “Do you think he’s going to be able to accept this?” “If he gives a shit about either of us he will. His main problem with me is that he sees me as a player who’s going to mess around on you, but I won’t.” He softly kisses my lips and brushes a strand of my wild hair off my forehead tucking it behind my ear.

“Tell me more about you. I feel like I’ve known you forever but I don’t have any real facts other than you’re a Marine who lives next-door to my brother.” He smiles, “What kind of facts would you like to know?” “You’re an only child?” “Yes.” “Where were you born?” “Here in North Carolina. My mother’s name is Giselle. She’s sixty-five. My dad was ten years older than her. He was a career Marine, so we moved around a lot. When he died, Mom wanted to settle here and I ended up being stationed here a few years ago.” “How did your dad die? If you don’t mind me asking.” “No, it’s alright. It was a heart attack. It was sudden and unexpected, of course. He died in his

office when we were stationed overseas in France.” “I’m so sorry, Drake. How old were you?” “Seventeen, it was a long time ago. Mom’s been remarried for fifteen years to an oil tycoon. He makes her happy.” “Did you go to high school here?” “No, I went wherever we were stationed. I graduated in France a year early and then my dad died so we moved back here. I went to college and joined the Corps when I was twenty-one.” “Where did you go to college?” He shifts his leg and nuzzles his head into his pillow and I wonder if he doesn’t want to tell me. “Princeton.” He rolls his eyes and I laugh. I thought he was embarrassed about where he went, but I don’t think anyone could be embarrassed about going to Princeton.

“Wow,” I say, impressed. “Yeah, I don’t tell many people that. My stepdad, Dan, paid for it. I sort of think he was trying to impress my mom and it worked. She married him a few years later.” “So, you’re super smart and nice to look at. How’d I get so lucky?” “I’m the lucky one, Tiana. Don’t ever doubt that.” “I’m just a North Carolina grad wannabe singer working as a waitress in a small-town diner. God, my life sounds like a country song.” “Sing something for me.” I groan. I never know what to sing when people say that. “What’s the matter? You are a singer, aren’t you?” “I am, but you’re putting me on the spot. It’s early and I haven’t warmed up my voice yet.”

“Sing something for me,” he repeats, squeezing me tight. I slide my arms up around his neck and think of a song. “What song do you use for auditions?” “Still Fallin’ For You by Ellie Goulding.” “Did you sing that for your Just Sing audition?” “Yes.” It feels like a hundred years ago since I auditioned for the show that was supposed to change my life. It’s funny that not being on the most famous talent show in the world is what changed my life forever. If getting kicked off that show is what it took to bring me to Drake, I’m glad it happened and I’d do it again if given the choice. “Sing that then,” he says. I clear my throat and take a deep breath and blow it out before easing quietly into the lyrics. I can blow like Ariana Grande and Christina Aguilera, but Ellie’s songs are softer and my brother is downstairs sleeping so I do my best to keep it

down. I sing two verses and he loosens his grip and props up on his elbow listening with growing interest. By the third verse, he’s sitting up with his lips parted and a scowl puckering between his eyes. I can’t tell if he loves it or if he’s pissed. With that expression, it could go either way. I finish with the lyrics still fallin’ for you and look at him with apprehension. I wasn’t this nervous on stage in front of six of the most powerful music producers in the world auditioning for Just Sing. Obviously, it mattered what the panel thought, that’s how you get chosen for the show, but it feels like singing for Drake matters more. “My God.” He covers his mouth with his hand and scrubs his short beard with his palm. “Your voice is… you’re, fuck, Tiana, you’re wasting your life here in this tiny town working as a waitress with talent like that.” “Thanks, there are a lot of people like me, though.

It’s a hard industry to break into, especially when you fuck it up and get kicked off a major talent scouting show.” “No, no, you’re not understanding me. You are phenomenal. You don’t need that fucking show. You need a little money and an agent with powerful connections. Jayden always bragged about what a good singer you were, but he never said that you could be the next Whitney Houston.” He’s really hyped up about this, so much so, it’s making me blush. Love makes you stupid, so he’s biased but it’s nice to be appreciated. “Well, thank you. Whitney Houston, huh? That’s quite a comparison, you’re so sweet.” I reach over and rub his bicep to show I appreciate the compliment but I don’t take it seriously. He narrows his eyes and stares at me for a long time until I’m compelled to break the silence. “What are you thinking?” “I have to tell you something. I’ve been keeping a

secret that could affect you,soyou deserve to know before we go any further.” Oh no, this sounds bad. Nothing good ever came from the words I must tell you something. Just then a loud crash comes from downstairs. I sit up and pull the sheet up around me. Drake jumps off the bed, yanks his boxers on and snatches the gun that’s still on the nightstand beside me. He shoves the magazine into the gun and moves fluidly across the room to the door. He turns to me and holds one finger over his lips telling me not to make a sound while he presses his ear to the door. That’s when I hear him yell, “Drake! Where are you? I’m gonna fucking kill you!” It’s Jayden and he sounds insane. His voice is loud, but at the same time shaky and disturbed. When he doesn’t get an immediate response, he pounds up the stairs and bangs on the door.

“I fucking know you’re in there with her, open the door!” Drake lowered his weapon the second he heard Jayden’s voice downstairs. I know it’s stupid but I want him to just pretend we aren’t here and hope Jayden goes away. That is never going to happen and we need to face him eventually, so it may as well be right now. Drake unlocks the door and before he can open it Jayden is pushing his way in. He’s vibrating with anger and his face is beet red as he takes in the scene. His eyes swing from Drake to me in the bed and back to Drake. He sees the gun in his hand and a sick smile spreads across his face. “You’re kidding me with that, right?” He points at the gun. “Jayden, don’t,” Drake says. “You’re pathetic. You know that? Some best fucking friend you are. You promised not to touch her and here you are fucking her right under my

nose. Are ya doin’ all that kinky shit you do with your other girlfriends?” He whips his eyes back to me. “I tried to tell you, T, he’s a man-whore, and he’s just fucking you because you’re hot and convenient. You’re never gonna be more to him than a warm place to shove his cock when he’s too lazy to go into town and find one of his regulars.” “That’s enough!” Drake roars and takes a step toward Jayden the gun wavering in his hand. “I told you last night, I love her, it’s not like that with her. Now take your insulting fucking ass out of my house and don’t come back!” “Oh my God, both of you stop! Drake, please go and put the gun away before somebody gets hurt. And as for you, Jayden, I’m a grown woman. I know it’s hard for you to see that because you’ve always taken care of me but I don’t need to be taken care of right now. I need you to back off and let me make my own relationship decisions.” “Ya better do what she says, old man. Go put that gun away before somebody gets hurt,” he says with

a sadistic laugh. What the hell is wrong with him? He doesn’t even sound like my brother, he sounds like a psychotic stranger. “I told you to stop, Captain. Shut your fucking mouth,” Drake says. “Or what? You’ll hit me with your cane, or shoot that gun until you blow a hole in everything in the room before you hit me?” Drake lifts the gun and points it at Jayden. I scream and jump off the bed wrapping the sheet around myself. I fling my body between the men and look from one to the other in utter shock. Drake lowers the gun immediately and steps forward to pull me away from my brother. “Man, you gonna tell her or you gonna let me be the one to break the news?” “I told you to leave. Legally I can shoot you if you don’t.”

“You couldn’t shoot me if you wanted to and you know it.” Jayden focuses his attention on me. “Sis, has this disloyal, lying, whoring mother fucker told you his secret yet? No, of course he hasn’t or he wouldn’t be threatening to shoot me and you wouldn’t still be fucking him or planning a future with him or whatever the hell you’re doing over here.” He lowers his eyes to the sheet covering my naked body and his lip curls up in disgust. “Why are you being such a dick about this, Jay? People change, maybe Drake never got into committed relationships before but we love each other. This is different, I have feelings for him that I’ve never had for anyone before.” He stumbles back a step like I’ve hit him. “That’s not true. You don’t love him, you can’t.” “I can, and I do.” I soften my voice trying to get through to him but his eyes are hollow, I hardly recognize them. “He’s going blind, Tiana. He’s been going blind

for seventeen years and it’s gotten so bad lately he can’t even drive.” “Jayden!” Drake yells. He’s holding me around my waist my back to his front. His voice deafens me in my right ear temporarily and I think I must have heard Jayden wrong. Did he say Drake is going blind? “What?” “Yeah, he didn’t tell ya that, did he? That’s because he knows you’d dump him. That’s also why he won’t marry anybody or have kids. He doesn’t wanna ruin some poor woman’s life makin’ her take care of him. But he’s gettin' worse now and he needs a babysitter. What’s that say about you, huh? I guess he don’t care about fuckin’ up your life, does he? Does that sound like love to you, Tiana? Huh?” “I…” I shake my head back and forth unable to speak. Is this just a ploy to get me away from Drake or is Jayden telling the truth? Drake is going

blind. “Baby, listen to me, I’m not blind. Your brother is pissed and he’s trying to turn you against me. Let’s get dressed and I’ll take you somewhere so we can talk.” He’s speaking directly into my ear in a soft reassuring voice, but my mind is buzzing with confusion. I’m trying to put these pieces of information in an order that they make sense, but I’m a mess, I can’t think. “He can’t take you somewhere to talk. He can’t drive, he can’t shoot, he can’t text with his fingers on his phone and soon he won’t even be able to work. So there goes your pretty future! No job, no income, no nothing.” I bend my head down and cover my ears holding the sheet against my body with my upper arms to keep it from falling. “Stop! Just shut up, Jayden!” I scream and step out of Drakes embrace. Angry tears spring to my eyes but I don’t want either of them to see me cry. I

shuffle across the room and grab my clothes off the floor and barrel past them toward the hall. “You two go ahead and kill each other. Do whatever you want, just leave me alone.” I exit and slam the door but when I try to walk away I realize the sheet is stuck. That’s the last fucking straw. I let out a frustrated scream and drop the sheet. I don’t care who fucking sees me naked at this point. I stomp into the bathroom where I slam that door so hard it rattles a giant blown up photograph of a camera lens that’s hanging on the wall behind the door. Amid all this chaos, I stop and stare at the picture for a second and think it’s an odd way to decorate a bathroom. What the fuck is wrong with me? I yank on my shorts and button my shirt up with no bra underneath. I didn’t have time to search for underthings, I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. I look in the mirror. Good God, my hair is awful.

Where am I going to go looking like this, braless with just-been-fucked hair sticking out all over the place? And no shoes, damn it, I forgot my shoes. I hear the bedroom door open and one person descending the stairs. The front door opens and closes and I’m left alone with one of them, the question is which one? I didn’t hear any gunshots so nobody’s dead. That’s good I guess. I need to get out of here and get some distance so I can think. I hear a click behind me and turn around to find Drake standing on the threshold of another door that has access to this bathroom. I glance beyond him and see a spare bedroom. Great, a fucking Jack and Jill bathroom. So much for sneaking out unseen. “I was going to tell you.” He takes a step toward me. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Two more steps and he is standing right in front of me. “I should have told you sooner, but I never

expected you to steal my heart the way you did.” I look into his eyes and see that tiny bit of vulnerability that I’ve always seen there but now it’s not so tiny. And now I know why it’s there. All at once things fall together. His tendency to never look at me straight on, wanting to walk into town instead of drive, the spelling mistakes in his text messages, the lack of furniture in his house. All of it can be easily explained away by his failing sight. “Why?” There are so many whys, that he isn’t sure which one I’m referring to. “Why didn’t I tell you?” “No, why are you going blind? Were you injured, is it genetic? What’s causing it and can it be fixed?” He lowers his eyes to the floor, “It’s called macular degeneration. Usually there is a cause but with me, they have found none. It started when I was nineteen or twenty. It was hardly anything the first ten years, a little blurry vision, difficulty

driving at night but nothing glasses couldn’t help. I thought it was a misdiagnosis or that they were overdramatizing it until I hit thirty. Then a spot appeared in the center of my vision making it difficult to see anything directly in front of me.” “And now?” “Your brother wasn’t lying about that part. It has gotten worse over the past couple years and especially within the past few weeks.” “Does it hurt?” “No.” He looks up with a sad smirk. “What are you going to do about your job? I thought you were being promoted soon.” His jaw tightens when he clenches his teeth. “I thought so, too, but the past few weeks have been bad. The week before I met you, I woke up with a significant setback and it’s happened again since then. I have perfect peripheral vision. That’s how I’ve gotten by, keeping my job for so long. No

one knows. Only Jayden and my eye surgeon, and now you.” “Not even your mother?” “No, it’s going to kill her. She’s so proud of her Marine Corps son. Now she’ll have to tell all of her socialite friends that her perfect son is a pathetic blind man.” I frown so hard I feel my forehead wrinkle. “Is that how you feel about people who are blind?” “Not people, me. I’m a fucking Marine, Tiana. I lead, I organize, I am respected, and looked up to. When I’m blind all of that will be gone. I’ll be dependent on others for basic shit like driving and grocery shopping. I won’t be able to do anything alone, I won’t be able to work or go for a run…” His words trail off and he sits down on the closed toilet seat with his elbows on his knees and covers his face with his hands. I kneel in front of him and remove his hands. My overbearing, take charge Marine has tears in his

beautiful blue eyes and defeat written all over his face. “Drake, do you really love me? I mean we have only known each other a short time, but I am positive of my feelings for you. I know I’m in love with you.” “Yes, I love you.” “If something happened to me would you leave me?” I ask him. “No.” “What would you do?” “I would take care of you.” I cup his cheeks with my hands and a single tear escapes his eye and rolls down his cheek into his scruffy beard. “Then why do you think I would leave you?” He leans into my hands hard and thrusts his fingers

into my hair on either side of my head. He is a man desperate for acceptance and understanding, but he’s been unwilling to ask for it so I offer it to him freely with a kiss. His mouth is warm and his kiss tentative. His familiar scent and taste cloud my mind and pull me in deeper and deeper. With every second that passes, he is less cautious and more responsive, his fingers become tangled in my hair and he leans into me for more. Anguish and torment radiate from his body and my heart aches for this man who has been suffering for so long. If anticipation is the worst kind of punishment, Drake has been tortured for seventeen years. I look at him with a question when he pulls away from me suddenly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I wasn’t hunting for someone to take care of me while I deteriorate, I swear to God, Tiana. You were

unheralded and I couldn’t resist you. I tried, God, how I tried, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m sorry…” He pulls me against his chest and strokes my matted hair. “There’s nothing to be sorry for and for your information I had some say in all of this you know. I had no intentions of giving you up. I was just waiting for you to bring your stupid stubborn ass home.” I feel the vibration of his laugh against my cheek and feel the release of at least a little of his anxiety. “So sassy,” he remarked. “And your point is?” “I love you.” “I love you too. And I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t just your struggle anymore, it’s ours.” “That’s what I’m afraid of, baby, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

CHA P T ER 2 2

Drake

IT’S BEEN four days since Jayden learned that I love his sister. I expected him to be upset, to rant and rave about what a horrible friend I am and how disrespectful his sister is being. What I didn’t expect was a thorough decline in his physical and mental health.

Jayden’s fucking gone off the deep end. Tiana has been staying with me for the past two days. I haven’t see Jayden on base, his truck hasn’t been moved and no lights have been going on at night in his house. Tiana purposely never went to get her things at the house. To allow Jayden time to cool off for a couple days, she’s been washing her clothes after work and much to my pleasure, spending all her free-time naked in my bed with me. Mary Conley who lives on the other side of Jayden called me this afternoon to tell me she thought she saw Jayden wandering around in the backyard in his underwear toting a rifle. I asked her if she was sure and she seemed pretty shaken up. I told her to call the police if she hadn’t already. Max picked me up and I called Tiana from the car to warn her to stay away from her brother’s house. Naturally, she freaked out and started walking home. It amazes me how disobedient she is in dayto-day life. In the bedroom, she is the perfect

submissive but as soon as she takes one step out she’s a hellion with opinions and attitude galore. Luckily Max can drive like a maniac, and we caught her before she got home and picked her up. Now we are sitting in the street four houses down watching Jayden pace back and forth on his porch-smoking a cigarette--in his boxers—with a gun. “What the hell is he doing? I need to talk to him, maybe he will put the gun away if he sees me,” she says, holding onto my arm with both hands and hoisting herself up to see over the front seat. “Or maybe if he sees you he’ll shoot you. There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of this car, so don’t even think about trying it.” “But we can’t just sit here and do nothing. What if he’s going to hurt himself? What if a kid comes along and he accidently shoots them? Or Mrs. Conley decides to see if he’s okay.” “Believe me, Mrs. Conley is probably hiding in her bomb shelter with her husband. She was frantic

when she called me. She doesn’t take kindly to guns. She didn’t even want me to move onto the block. She said one gun-toting Marine on her street was more than enough.” “Drake, this is freaking me out. Jayden doesn’t smoke and I’ve never seen him with a rifle in the house before. Do you think he’s cracked?” “Maybe having you stay with me right next door was too much for him. I have been thinking about his overprotectiveness. It’s not normal. It’s excessive. I mean I get that you’re his only family and someone’s threatening you, but he hasn’t been himself since the day you called from New York. Tiana sits up straight and puts her hands on the back of the seat straining her neck to see her brother better. I look, but it’s hard for me to see so far away. “What’s he doing?” “He stopped pacing, I think he’s talking to himself.” “Where’s his rifle?”

“It’s still hanging on his back.” So, he’s not preparing to shoot, but he’s an expert marksman, he can have that weapon in his hands ready to fire in seconds. I don’t trust him. In fact, I’m not so sure we are safe sitting here. “Sir, I think we should move to a safer distance until the police arrive.” “Max, you read my mind. Can you back away without him noticing?” “As soon as there is some traffic, either way, I can. I don’t want to be the only thing moving out here.” “Where are the police? Are you sure Mrs. Conley called them?” “No, but I can’t imagine her not calling them. She calls the police when somebody cuts their lawn too short, or throws a ball in her yard. They’re probably taking their sweet time because they didn’t find anything the last time they were called out here. They’re a bunch of bumbling idiots with

badges. None of them know how to search a house or run an investigation.” “Here comes a car,” Tiana says but the car slows and turns into Jayden’s driveway. “Wait, oh my God, somebody’s pulling into the driveway. No, no, no, go away.” “Who the hell is that?” I can only see the outline and color of the car. It’s maroon and the size of a small SUV. “I don’t know, I’ve never seen that car before. We don’t have many visitors and Jayden almost always goes to his friends’ houses to hang out, they don’t come to us.” The driver’s side door opens and a woman steps out. She waves at Jayden and seems to pause before going around the front of the car. I imagine she’s wondering why the hell he’s in his underwear and toting a rifle in the middle of the afternoon. He waves back and smiles dropping his cigarette and grinding it out with his bare foot.

“Do you know her?” I ask. I can make out the shapes but details are blurry and gray. “No, oh shit,” Tiana, says gripping the leather seat until her knuckles are white. “What?” “There’s a kid in the car, she’s going around to let her out.” “That’s it, Max. Take us closer so I can get out.” Tiana’s grabs ahold of my arm, “No, you can’t go out there, he hates you right now. Who knows what he’ll do to you.” She turns to Max, “Don’t move this car,” she spits the words like venom. Max’s eyes go wide for a fraction of a second, but then he turns his head to me and I nod. “Are you fucking crazy? You can’t see well and you’re going to walk out there with no protection. What if this is a trap?” “I don’t have a choice. I’m not going to sit here and

watch innocent people get killed.” “Take me with you. He won’t hurt me. I’m positive. This is all about me. He has developed some weird fixation with me. He told me last week he’s afraid of disappointing mum and dad. In his mind, I am still his responsibility and if he allows me to screw up my life somehow, he’s failed them. Use me as a shield. He won’t shoot.” Max drives slowly toward Jayden’s house and the woman from the car becomes clearer, there’s something about her, something familiar. She opens the passenger door and a young girl dressed in a bright orange sundress and sandals hops out with a broad smile for the woman I assume is her mother from their similar looks. She’s a beautiful child with dark bronze colored skin and long wavy brown curls that bounce when she walks. She looks like… “No,” I whisper under my breath.

“What?” Tiana asks. “That little girl.” “What about her? Drake, you’re pale, do you know her?” A drop of sweat rolls between my shoulder blades and down my back. Shock and fear collide and the stitches of my future with Tiana begin to unravel and fray. “Yes. I know them. Stay here and do not get out of this car do you understand me?” “I don’t want…” “No!” I say with more force than I have ever used while speaking to Tiana. She jumps. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice but it’s imperative that you stay here.” I cup her cheek with my last words trying to soften the blow of my outburst. She nods and I open the door and step out. Jayden looks up and gestures for me to join him on the porch with Mona and Amari. I haven’t seen

Mona in years and I’ve only ever seen photographs of Amari. “Hey, best friend, I’m glad you could join us. I had a feeling you’d be here!” Jayden calls out. He sounds manic and evil like he’s on the very edge of sanity. From the porch, Mona and Amari turn to see who Jayden is talking to. Mona looks confused and shocked. Little Amari is bewildered. I take slow steps toward them with caution, the hot afternoon air is crackling with tension and the hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. “What’s going on, Jay?” I ask stopping at the bottom of the porch. “Thought maybe a little reunion was in order, ya know, so my baby sister can meet your daughter and your ex-wife since y’all are getting so serious.” I glance at Mona, whose mouth has fallen open.

Her hand is securely wrapped around Amari’s and she has instinctually taken a step away from Jayden, moving Amari behind her right hip. “Yeah? That was nice of you.” “I figured since we’re gonna be family, we should all get to know each other. Where’s Tiana? You’ve been keeping her pretty busy over there at your house lately.” “Drake?” Mona says, with worry in her voice. “Hello, Mona.” “What’s going on?” She frowns and fixes her gaze on Jayden. “I thought you said he was deployed. You said he left some things for Amari.” “Yeah, well, I lied.” Jayden’s eyes are flat and his tone is cold. “We’re leaving, I knew we shouldn’t have come here. Come on, Amari, let’s go.” “Oh no, y’all can’t leave yet. You haven’t even met

my little sister. I’m sure she’s in that shiny black car of yours. Is she driving for you now, old man?” He squints and covers his eyes with one hand to get a better look at the SUV. “Aw, nope, you still got that old fart, Max, huh?” Tiana steps from the car and closes the door. I fucking knew she wouldn’t listen to me. “There she is,” Jay says, dragging out his words in a thicker than usual Southern drawl that seems to be accompanying his breakdown. He’s always had a mild twang like everyone in North Carolina but his thick backwoods slang has gotten progressively more pronounced since Tiana’s arrival. “There’s my pretty lil sister, come on up here, T. I have some people I want you to meet,” he calls to Tiana. She starts toward us and against my better judgment, I turn my back on my armed best friend and close the distance between her and me in a few powerful strides. “What’s going on, Drake?”

“Nothing, I told you to stay in the car. Get back inside. I’m handling this.” I keep my voice down, but Jayden’s got super power hearing and hollers, “No, sis, he isn’t handling anything. You need to come here and meet these two lovely ladies from Drake’s past.” “Mommy, I’m scared. Why does Uncle Jayden have a gun?” Amari says and the sound of her voice shreds my heart. I’ve never heard it before. It’s soft and sweet, it reminds me of Tiana’s. “Because people steal, Amari, and you gotta protect what’s yours. Your daddy over there, he stole my sister from me and I want her back so I can keep her safe.” I open the door for Tiana and try to guide her back into the back seat but she heard Jayden say the word, daddy, just like he wanted her to. She closes the door and steps out of my reach. “You have a daughter?” I can’t stand the hurt in her voice and the twisted anguish on her face. I should have told her, I would have eventually. It was a complicated

relationship and not a pleasant one. I didn’t believe it when Mona told me Amari was mine. I’ve used a condom religiously with every woman I’ve ever been with until Tiana. I know no birth control is 100% but I was only with Mona twice and both times I was responsible. What is 100%, however, DNA tests are and there was no doubt she was mine. I was overseas and not interested in a relationship with Mona, but guilt got the best of me and I married her when she was four months pregnant at her insistence. She was young, alone and looking for a meal ticket, stability, and a way out of her country. She saw an opportunity and took it, I can’t blame her for that, but I’ve always felt the pregnancy was suspicious. I divorced her four months later and came home to the US before Amari was born. A few months into our marriage, I told her about my condition and things changed. We weren’t a real couple, far from it. But when she knew I was going to be handicapped someday her interest waned. She

wasn’t interested in spending her life taking care of me. She had been counting on it being the other way around. “Yes.” “Were you going to tell me?” “Yes, of course.” Her eyes dart to the porch and back to me. “Did you love her?” “Mona? No, not at all.” “Why are they here?” “It seems your brother has kept in contact with them over the years. He sees me as a threat, Tiana. He’s jealous of our relationship. He brought her here to break us up. Let’s talk about this later. Please, get back into the car.” I nudge her toward the door and she nudges me back. I’m about to do something I don’t usually do.

Beg. I want her out of here so I can try to defuse the situation with Jayden before it gets out of hand. “No, I want to meet her.” “Now’s not the time, baby.” “Seems like the perfect time to me.” She pushes past me, my hands ball into fists and I blow out a fast, frustrated breath before turning around to stalk after her. “Tiana,” I shout and she waves her arm dismissively. “Hey, sis, let me introduce you to Drake’s ex-wife Mona. Mona, this is my sister, Tiana, and Drake’s latest conquest.” If he didn’t have a fucking rifle slung over his shoulder, I’d beat him to within an inch of his life and he knows it. Maybe that’s why he’s got it, for protection. Or he could have it because he’s tipping the sanity scale. I don’t know and I don’t

want to find out. I may not have been there in person to help raise my daughter but I supported her financially and I saw her grow through photographs. There is still a paternal connection that drives me to protect her and an even stronger connection that adheres my heart to Tiana’s. “Mona, I think it’s best you take Amari and go. It’s obvious you’ve been led here under false pretenses and I’m sorry.” Mona nods and starts to move toward the steps, but Jayden slides his rifle around from his back. Without aiming it at her, he uses it to block her path. Amari gasps and grabs onto her mother's waist. “Oh no, we haven’t even had lunch yet. Everybody inside to the dining room.” He motions toward the front door with the gun. “I don’t wanna have lunch with Uncle Jayden, Mommy,” Amari whimpers into her mother’s hip.

She’s no stranger to armed men. Amari spent the first three and a half years of her life growing up in Iraq but even a child can sense the heightened tension in the air. Tiana squats down in front of Amari, “It’ll be okay, I have some coloring books and pencils inside. We can color while your mommy and Drake talk to Uncle Jayden.” Tiana and Amari both look up at Mona. She doesn’t know Tiana, but she has a genuine concern for a child’s safety in her eyes. “Don’t ya think it’s a little soon to be playing stepmommy, sis?” “Shut up, Jayden, you’re being an ass.” Jayden raises his eyebrows and turns his attention to me. “You’re doin’ a bang-up job as a Dom with her, man.” I’d love to tell him she’s perfectly submissive in the bedroom and that I adore her sassy rebellious side outside of it. But, he has a gun and I would like to keep my brains inside of my head.

“She’s an independent woman. I don’t have a problem with that.” Tiana stands and turns around until she’s toe to toe with her crazy brother. To my horror, she pokes his bare muscled chest. She actually pokes the bear. “I know what you’re doing and if you want me to hate you, keep it up.” Offering her hand to Amari she looks at Mona, “Is it okay if she colors with me?” “Yeah, sure, go ahead. Amari, stay where mommy can see you, though, alright?” Mona says, trying to sound convincing but I can smell the fear coming off her. Amari nods and takes Tiana’s hand. A pang of regret hits me as I try to envision being a real father to this beautiful child. When I left Iraq after my second tour, I not only abandoned my daughter but also the idea of ever having a family again. There’s a reason for everything that happens in life and I figured being able to walk away meant I

shouldn’t have been there in the first place. I didn’t think I deserved love, so I learned to pump the brakes with every relationship after that until I met Tiana. But the love I have for her is a full-speed ahead, open throttle kind of love with no brakes at all. If there were ever hope of me having another child it would be with her, if she doesn’t push me away after this stunt Jayden is pulling, that is. The unlikely pair walks into the house and through the living room to the dining room where Tiana takes a stack of coloring books and pencils from a china hutch. Jaden holds the gun facing the ground with one hand and opens the screen door with the other. “After you, lovebirds.” Mona hesitates and I put my hand on the small of her back to guide her inside where we take a seat at the table set for five.

I start scanning the room for traps, weapons or other signs of insanity. The first thing I notice is that there are no knives with the silverware settings on the table. “What’s your plan here, Jay? If you have something you want to say to us just say it and let Mona and Amari go home.” A knock on the door interrupts my attempt at ending this unplanned lunch date. Jayden left the door open and I can see it’s the Chief through the screen door. He’s alone. Nice, don’t bring your partner or anything idiot. Just because they were too stupid to catch the intruder last time doesn’t mean there won’t be a dangerous situation today. “Afternoon, Jayden, I got a call from your neighbor about a naked gun-toting man out in your back yard. You know anything about that?” The Chief says. He can’t see inside through the screen or he would know that Jayden fits that description perfectly. “Aw, Chief, I had to run out and roll up the car

windows, thought it was gonna rain.” He is standing on the threshold of the kitchen and dining room; the rifle is hidden behind the wall but I don’t think the Chief would be able to see it anyway. “I figured it was something like that, you know old Mrs. Conley though. I had to check it out.” “Well, thanks for coming by, Chief, I got my family here for lunch so I gotta get back to cookin’. Maybe I’ll see you at Al’s this weekend?” “Yep, sure thing, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” “No problem, see ya around.” “Bye.” Our chance at getting some help clomps down the porch steps, but I know Max is still out there and he won’t leave until he knows we are safe. If I know him, he’s working on a plan to get us out of here right now.

“Stupid cops wouldn’t know a crime if it bit ‘em in the ass.” Tiana looks up for a second to watch the back of the Chief’s head bob up and down as he walks away. I look out of the corner of my eye deliberately at her trying to get her attention. I need to see that things are okay between us and the only way I can without coming right out and asking is through her expressive eyes. She won’t look at me. Her full attention is on my daughter leaving me out in the cold worrying that I may have lost her forever. Her accepting that I’m going blind was huge, learning I have a daughter and an ex-wife that I haven’t told her about; that might be unforgivable.

CHA P T ER 2 3

Tiana

HE HAS A DAUGHTER, a fucking child that he never mentioned. I understand we haven’t known each other long but he knows my deepest darkest secrets and my biggest fears. We have opened ourselves to one another on more than one occasion. Any of those times would have been ideal for bringing up

the fact that he has a daughter. Oh, and an ex-wife. Not just an ex-girlfriend, a wife. He was married to the woman sitting across the table from me. It’s not difficult to see why he was attracted to her. Her exotic Middle Eastern beauty is exceptional. The combination of her dark delicate features next to Drake’s all-American looks would have made a stunning couple. She shared something special with Drake. She shared vows and the forever bond of a child, things I’ve been dreaming about having with him too. I didn’t know I’d be his second and I suspect I would never have if Jayden hadn’t intervened. How can I plan forever with a man who walked away from his wife and child? The sound of my aunt’s voice saying if he does it once he’ll do it again and why would a man buy milk when he can have the cow for free is loud in my head. Warning signs, red lights, bells and whistles, all of it is screaming run away!

Jayden planted the seed of doubt. He’s getting exactly what he wants and I hate it. He’s been warning me all along that Drake isn’t the kind of man for me. First, it was because he was a player and he was right on the money with that except that Drake surprised him when he wanted more with me. Then it was because he’s going to be blind one day but I understand why he didn’t want to tell me that, it makes sense. But when you keep an ex-wife and child a secret I suspect it’s because you feel guilty or ashamed. And now look what’s happened. I’m sitting at the dining room table coloring with his daughter while being held hostage by my crazy brother in his underwear with a rifle. This shit is beyond caring or protecting me. This is an obsession. Inviting the secret ex-family to town just to prove Drake is scum seems excessive, even for him. I feel like there’s something else to this, something

deeper, darker, more frightening. But what? “Why did the policeman come?” Amari asks her mother. “He’s friends with Uncle Jayden. He came over to say hi, that’s all,” Mona says in a soothing motherly tone. I glance at Jay in the kitchen where he has moved his rifle around to his back again to take something from the oven. Where are his clothes? How the hell did he get his governmentissued rifle off base and into the house? And why? Amari has stopped coloring. She’s barely finished coloring the hair on the mermaid in our picture. She’s nervous and rightly so. Her eyes dart from the kitchen to her mother occasionally stopping for a quick once over of Drake. “Are you my daddy?” she asks between glances. Drake and Mona look at one another and he lifts his eyebrow as if to ask permission to claim her as his. She sighs and nods her head. “Yes, I am.”

“Ah, and the bonding begins!” Jayden says from the kitchen. He sounds like a madman and I suspect he is one at this point. “What the hell do you want? So, I have an ex-wife and a daughter, now she knows. You got what you wanted, Tiana’s probably going to break up with me now. Let them go.” Drake shoves his chair back and stands in the kitchen doorway blocking my view of my brother. I hear him swing the gun around, and I imagine him pointing it at Drake. “You’d best sit down, old man, or your little family there will be wearing you for lunch instead of joining you for it.” My mouth falls open, and for a second time stands still. I can see the strong muscles of Drake’s back tense under his tan Marine uniform. Mona’s eyes go wide with terror and Amari runs to her side crying. When things speed up again, I hitch my thumb toward the front door and mouth the word go. She

scrambles to her feet and rushes toward the door with Amari. Max appears out of nowhere and hoists Amari into one arm and tucks Mona under his other to shield them while they run for cover in their SUV at the end of the driveway. I jump up and race around the table to duck under Drake’s arm. Standing between them I find myself on the other end of a semi-automatic weapon. The smell of chicken casserole wafts from the open oven next to Jayden, making my stomach churn. “Are you fucking insane, woman?” Drake whispers in my ear. “Jayden, put the gun down, please. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll stop seeing Drake, I’ll go to school and live here with you, or keep working at the diner, whatever, just please, stop. Do you realize what you’re doing? You’re pointing your gun at your best friend. I know you don’t want to hurt anybody.” “You need to move out of the way, Tiana.” His

cold voice sends shivers up my spine despite the sweat dripping down the side of my face. “Not until you put the gun down.” “I’m not putting the gun down until he’s dead,” Jay stated. “Then we’re going to be standing here a long time, brother. I’m not going to let you kill somebody, so forget it.” “I’ve killed a lotta people, lil sis, I went to hell, remember? But I never got the satisfaction I’m gonna get out of killing him.” He thrusts his gun at me and I step back into Drake’s arms. The familiar feel of them on my hips and the smell of sandalwood cause me to panic. I can’t let him hurt Drake. I must stay between them no matter what, the second I’m out of the equation, Drake’s dead. I can see it in Jayden’s wild eyes. He’s beyond help, the taut rubber band holding his shit together has snapped.

I’ve never heard him talk about his time overseas. I thought he was one of the well-adjusted people who fought in the war and came back to regular life without being affected. He never showed signs of PTSD, but then again, I wasn’t around much. Three shadows move past the kitchen window behind Jayden so fast I wonder if my mind is playing tricks on me. But when Drake pinches my waist at the same time, I know it wasn’t my imagination. Someone is here to help. “Jay, listen to me, you need to put the gun down before somebody gets hurt. You don’t want to accidently shoot Tiana, do you?” “I’m an expert marksman, you know that. I don’t miss, especially at point blank range, and that’s how you’re going down.” “I know you are. Remember when we were on top of that old building in Yemen and that sniper took a shot at us? You took him out before I could drop down.”

Drake is trying to distract him with a walk down memory lane, but I’m not so sure patting him on the back for killing someone is the best strategy. “He was lame, at least a klick off, never would have hit us.” “But you got him and you saved my ass. Thank you, man.” Jayden’s face twists with confusion. His eyes glaze over and he lowers them to think. He is lost in another place and his rifle is pointing downward when the sound of glass shattering and breaking wood explodes around us. In an instant, Drake has turned me around and curved his body around mine to protect me. Smoke fills the room and I cover my mouth while Drake hurries me toward the door. People dressed in black with gas masks are yelling and rushing into the kitchen. Jayden is screaming and then a gun is fired. Drake tenses up around me, gripping me harder until we are outside. Crouching

down, Max leads us to an ambulance waiting in the street. I can still hear my brother screaming and cursing at whoever it is that just stormed his house. They’re definitely not local police unless the Chief had everyone SWAT-trained in the past couple of days. These men are swift and organized pulling off our extraction with precision and efficiency. “Are you okay?” Drake’s hands are all over me checking for injuries when we reach the ambulance. Max opens the door and Drake puts his hands on my waist to lift me in, but I take hold of the door and stop him. Two armed men are leading my brother out struggling and thrashing every inch of the way, despite their best efforts to keep him under control. He’s handcuffed and bleeding from his lip, yelling obscenities and deranged comments. Seeing him like this breaks my heart. How did he go from watching over me to obsessing over me? I want to calm him with soothing words and the warmth of

my hand on his cheek but I know that’s impossible. He needs professional help. “Where are they taking him?” I ask. Drake follows my gaze to Jayden. “Jail or maybe the base for a psychiatric evaluation first. I’m not sure, but we need to get you out of here.” He pries my fingers from the door and lifts me in where two paramedics are waiting to check me over. I sit on the gurney and look back at Drake. He’s pale and wincing. He reaches for his side and that’s when I see blood spreading from a hole in his shirt. “Oh my God, Drake, you’re hurt.” I scramble down and steer him toward the ambulance. “He needs to lie down, hurry,” I say to the paramedic but he’s already jumping out to slide the gurney onto the ground. “It’s not bad, Tiana, just a graze.” “You don’t know that for sure, we have to get you

to a hospital.” “She’s right, sir, you’ve been shot, we need to get you there right away,” the paramedic says helping him onto the gurney. “Are you okay? Check yourself over, you’re in shock.” I look down at myself and back at him shaking my head, “I’m fine.” “Max, where are Mona and Amari? Are they alright?” Max has appeared from nowhere again, on my right. “Yes, sir, they’ve been cleared. I sent them back to their hotel.” His eyes close and he relaxes back against the gurney. “We need to go, ma’am,” one of the paramedics says to me. “Are you sure you’re not injured? We can look if you want.”

“She wants,” Drake says raising his arm over his eyes. “I’m fine. Where are you taking him?” “To the hospital on base.” Drake moves his arm and tries to sit up, but he cringes and lies back. “You’re going with me, aren’t you?” It’s rare that Drake asks. He almost always tells me what’s going to happen. “I don’t think there is enough room in there for me.” “Have Max bring you then.” I’m still angry and hurt from what I learned today. But, he did get shot trying to protect me. I owe him for that. “I will.” They close the doors and drive away with the siren blaring and I sit down on the concrete in the middle of the street. Drake was right. I’m in shock,

I’m cold and trembling. I have never been through anything this intense and emotionally draining in my life. The videos I received don’t hold a candle to how this is affecting me. I can hear Max talking to someone right next to me but he sounds a hundred miles away. Strong arms scoop me up off the street and I don’t protest, I can’t. My head is buzzing with information. I feel like I’m in a class trying to take notes for something important and the teacher is lecturing too fast. I can’t keep up. “Tiana, Tiana…” I look at the nametag of the person carrying me and calling my name. Garcia. Didn’t someone tell me Kimber got engaged to a Marine named Garcia? I have no idea why I remember that random bit of information right now. “Yeah?” I look into his face when I answer.

“Max and I are taking you to the hospital, I think you should be seen by a doctor, do you understand?” I nod like a zombie staring into his deep brown eyes. Kimber did well if this is her Garcia. He opens the door to Drake’s SUV and helps me in. My hands are shaking while trying to put on my seatbelt, so he gently takes the buckle from my hands to help me. Max slides into the backseat and I watch Garcia walk around to the driver’s side and get behind the wheel. It’s so quiet I can hear myself breathing. No chit chat, no radio, just the still calm after the storm as we make our way out of Jewel Falls to the nearest civilian hospital. Where is Jayden? Drake is expecting me. My brother is insane. Drake was shot; he has a wife, no wait, an ex-wife, and a little girl. None of this seems real. It doesn’t make sense.

CHA P T ER 2 4

Drake

LUCKY, the doctor says. I don’t feel especially lucky. My best friend shot me, my girlfriend hasn’t visited since it happened three days ago, and I’m going blind. I’ll admit, the bullet entering my right side and only causing minimal damage to my intestines without

hitting any other major organs is pretty amazing. Other than that, shit sucks right now. I’ve called Tiana repeatedly and texted her several times a day, but still no response. I know she was devastated to find out I was married and that I have a daughter, but I’d like the chance to explain. “Major Valentine, how are you feeling today?” Dr. O’Leary, my surgeon asks strolling into my room holding a clipboard in his hands. “Fine, I’d like to go home.” “I think we can arrange that. I think it’s safe to say you’re not going to spring a leak somewhere other than your intestines and you seem to be recovering well. How’s your vision?” The Marine Corps knows about my sight. After a thorough exam on admission, the doc knew something was wrong, I had to admit it. It’s a secret I’ve kept for seventeen years, unburdening myself was a relief but the repercussions are going to start setting in soon. People will talk, I won’t be

promoted and I’ll have to quit working altogether. “The same,” I answer. “Good. Well, if there’s nothing keeping you here, I’ll give your nurse discharge orders and you can be on your way.” He’s right. Nothing is keeping me here anymore. My anchor is gone. The Marine Corps has been my home and my family for so long I have no idea how I’m going to function in the civilian world. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome. Major, how are you coping? Do you have a therapist to talk to about your sight?” “No, I’m fine. I’ve had seventeen years to prepare for this. Things are all lined up.” What a joke. Yeah, my house is blind-man proof and I have a service dog coming, but my real coping mechanism walked out of my life three days ago. The stunning woman with two different colored eyes, who sings like a bird is gone.

“If you need anything, look me up. You’ll know where to find me,” he says. “I will. Thanks again, doc.” He smiles the smile I fucking hate. The one I’ve been dreading for years. It’s the smile that says, man this guy was dealt a shitty hand in life, I’m glad it’s not me. Thirty minutes later a nurse has removed my IV and given me strict instructions to go home to rest, and take it easy. None of which do I plan on doing. I need to find Tiana and explain why I didn’t tell her about Mona and Amari. I want her to know why I left them and I pray she will understand. Walking out of the hospital is a bitch. I want to have a clear head when I talk to Tiana, so I refused the nurse’s offer for one last dose of pain medication. Max is waiting on the curb outside the front entrance, but I hear my name being called from behind me. “Major Valentine, sir.”

“Captain Garcia.” “I didn’t know you were being discharged today.” “Neither did I, glad to be out of here, though. How are you and your fiance´ settling in?” “Great, thank you for asking. She’s due any day now, we’re getting excited.” “That was some move, West Coast to the East Coast, especially when she’s so far along.” “Yep, military life…” he shrugs. I do something I never do and reach out to pat him on the shoulder, “You’re a lucky man, Captain Garcia, don’t ever forget that.” He nods his head, but his eyes express how much he understands. We met in California at Camp Pendleton a few weeks ago. When he told me he was being transferred, we got to know each other a little and come to find out, he’s Max’s grandson. Small world.

I’m sure Max filled him in on what happened with Jayden. Garcia appreciates his life, he’s a happy man and it shows. “I better not keep you, Grandpa is waiting.” He nods toward the doors where Max is tapping his thumb on the steering wheel.” “Yeah, don’t want to piss him off. Take care, I’ll probably see you soon.” See you soon gets stuck in my throat but he doesn’t notice. In the car, Max pulls away from the curb into the parking lot without a word. On the road, he sneaks a glance at me and taps the windshield wiper button when a few drops of rain hit the windshield. Looking out the front window through a gray dot in the center of my vision is unnerving. I prefer the back, but Max says it makes him feel like a chauffeur. Which he kind of is, but he’s also a proud retired Marine who hates the fact that he’s getting older. “Drake, I need to talk to you about Tiana.”

“Have you heard from her? I’ve been calling…” “She won’t answer. There have been some serious developments since you were hospitalized. I didn’t want to mention them until you were doing better.” He sounds ominous. I have that shitty feeling you get when someone says we need to talk. “What’s going on? Did she go back to New York?” I hate asking but I need to know because if she has I’ll be taking a trip. “No, she’s still in Jewel Falls but she’s in bad shape.” “Jayden?” “More than you can imagine. She’s been holed up in that house for three days and won’t answer the door. The lights go on and off and I’ve checked on her through the windows, she’s okay but she won’t speak to anyone.” “Did they admit him into a mental hospital? Is she upset about his breakdown?”

“No, he’s in jail under suicide watch. She sent him a message that she never wanted to see him or hear from him again and he threatened to kill himself.” Not surprising after all that happened, but why is she secluding herself? “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something bigger, Max. What is it, just spit it out.” “I think you need to try and talk to her. She won’t open up for anybody, not Donna or her roommate from New York, no one.” “Her roommate is here?” “Yes, I contacted her and sent her a ticket. I couldn’t think of anyone else, she doesn’t have any family left now.” “So, there is more but you don’t want to tell me?” “Yes, unfortunately, there’s a lot more, but it’s for her to tell, not me.” “How do you know?”

“The police contacted me when they couldn’t get her to return their calls. Jayden wouldn’t stop demanding to see her. She sent her roommate a text asking her to tell the police she was done with her brother.” “Take me to her.” “Yes, sir.” Everything looks so normal when we pull into Jayden and Tiana’s driveway. Jayden’s lawnmower is sitting on the side of the house where he left it a week ago, his truck is in the driveway and the swing on his porch sways in the breeze. It smells like rain and earth and flowers. The muggy air hangs heavily around me when I exit the SUV. “You don’t have to wait. I have a key to both houses, I’ll be fine.” “Call if you need to go anywhere, I’m five minutes

away.” “Thank you, Max, for everything.” Max was responsible for calling SWAT and making sure Mona and Amari were safe. He has a lot of connections for a man in his seventies and when he calls, people listen. He was one of the first Marines I met when I joined the Corps. I may not have made it if it weren’t for his gruff encouragement. “You’re welcome. Good luck.” He nods toward the house and I close the door and watch him pull away. I let myself into the house with the key my best friend gave me years ago. My declining vision paired with the curtains having been drawn in the living room and no light makes it impossible for me to see. I know there’s a lamp on a table about five steps in but I stop when my foot crunches in what sounds like glass. My side is burning and I’m a little light-

headed, I need to sit down. I use my phone's flashlight to light the way to the couch but I can’t move. Broken glass covers the floor, every decorative thing, every photograph or knickknack has been smashed. Small pieces of furniture have been thrown against the wall and cushions and throw pillows have been sliced with a knife and emptied of their stuffing. It looks like the FBI went through the house looking for something. I use my flashlight to guide me to the stairs picking and weaving through the debris the best I can. When I have hold of the railing, I climb the stairs with caution. I don’t know what’s been going on here, but startling Tiana seems like a bad idea right now. Upstairs I find the door to her room open and shine the light inside. “Tiana? Are you in here? It’s Drake, I had a key so I let myself in.” Nothing. I scan the room and find it in considerably

better shape than the downstairs but no Tiana. With my hand on the wall to guide me, I move down the hall to Jayden’s door. His room is destroyed beyond recognition. I step inside and call Tiana’s name before switching on the overhead light. I’m surprised the light bulb is still in one piece. It’s got to be the only thing in the room that is. This isn’t the mess of investigators. This is the mess of someone in a rage. I crunch my way across the bedroom and lying on the floor on a bed of cut up family photographs, is my Tiana. A pair of scissors is lying on the floor a few inches from her open hand and Jayden’s clothes are shredded everywhere. I squat down a few feet away and see that her eyes are open but she isn’t moving. My stitches strain and burn, but I ignore the pain and concentrate on this fragile version of the woman I love. “Tiana, honey, it’s Drake.” No response, not even a blink. I rise enough to move closer and kneel next to her legs. She’s only dressed in a tank top and panties

and she has blood streaks on her face and arms. “Are you hurt? Baby, you have blood on your hands. Can I look at them?” Nothing. I reach out and touch her hand. She’s freezing; she’s been lying her for a long time. Lifting her arm, I do my best to look for injuries with my peripheral vision and find small minor cuts probably from smashing everything in the house. Her other arm is the same and the blood on her face looks like she wiped her hand across her cheek. I shouldn’t in my condition but I slide one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulders and lift her into my arms. I feel a stitch, maybe two, pop and I wince. I can feel the warmth of my blood seeping from my incision, but I need to get her out of this room. I carry her to her bedroom and lay her on her bed. She’s limp and lifeless and if her eyes weren’t open I’d be checking for a pulse. I feel around and

find a lamp that’s been turned on its side on the table next to the bed. I right it, adjust the shade and turn it on. I press my hand to the wet spot on my shirt and since she’s practically comatose I step into her bathroom and grab a washcloth to hold pressure on my wound. When I return, I climb in behind her and pull the covers up over us to warm her up. The air conditioning must be set at forty degrees in here and she’s ice cold. After an hour or so, I feel her relaxing and try to talk to her again. “Tiana, baby, can you tell me what happened here? Did you do all of this?” “Yes.” Her voice is hoarse and quiet but at least she’s talking. “How long were you lying on the floor?” “Since they told me it was him.”

“Who baby? Do you mean Jayden?” “The man on the phone.” “A man called you? What was his name?” “Police.” “They called to tell you Jayden’s in jail? Is that why you’re so upset?” “No. I hope he rots there forever.” “I’m sorry you’re going through all of this. Is Jayden the reason you destroyed the house? You did a pretty thorough job I must say.” “I wanted to burn it down but I’m afraid of fire.” The sound of her hollow voice squeezes my heart when I think of her losing her parents in a house fire. She’s endured so much in her short life, she deserves happiness, she deserves more than me. We lie silent for a while and I think she’s gone to sleep when her quiet voice breaks the quiet. “I love you.”

I fight back the urge to yell thank God but she yanks me back to reality with her next question. “Why did you abandon them? How could you leave your wife pregnant with your child in a wartorn country and never look back?” “I looked back all the time. I’ve regretted not being a part of Amari’s life every day for the past six years, but I thought she was better off without a blind father who didn’t love her mother. Mona and I were married before she knew about my sight. When she found out I wasn’t the golden ticket to America that she thought I was, she lost interest. We never loved each other, we married because of the pregnancy and that’s all.” “You didn’t even stick around to see her be born.” “I knew I would love her the moment I saw her and Mona didn’t want me there. She was very clear that she only wanted financial support when it came to Amari.” “Have you ever seen her before this week?”

“Not in person. I send money and Mona sends photographs every week. I have a photo album at home.” “Mona didn’t want you to stay?” “No. She wanted to come to the US, but traveling when she was so late in her pregnancy, wasn’t an option. She found someone else to use, they’re divorced now as well.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Thank you for telling me everything.” “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I wasn’t proud of my decision to let Mona raise our child alone, but she insisted. I took the easy way out for once in my life and I’m still ashamed of that.” “You did what you thought was best at the time.” “I did.” Knowing the truth, Tiana presses further into the curve of my body and covers my arms with hers

pulling them tighter around her. “We good?” “Yes, we’re good.” “Do you want to talk about what happened here?” “No, but you need to know.” She’s trembling in my arms. I rub her arms up and down trying to warm her but I don’t think it’s the cold that’s causing her to shake. “Jayden didn’t go crazy, he is crazy. I feel like the Jayden I knew and loved was never real. He was so different when I came home.” “He did change a lot after you arrived. I don’t remember him being so overprotective when you were in college but then again, I didn’t know him as well then and I didn’t know you at all.” “No, Drake, this happened long before I came home from New York. I can’t believe I never saw it. I always thought he was protective of me because our parents died…” She begins to cry. I

turn her to face me and she buries her face in my chest and sobs wrack her body. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but if she’s forgiven me for keeping Mona and Amari a secret, I’ll comfort her for as long as she needs me to. I stroke her hair and softly whisper comforting words in her ear when she cries harder. When she quiets down, she pulls away, sliding her hands on either side of my face to turn it to the side so I can see her better. “He’s in love with me, Drake. My own blood brother is a pervert who’s in love with me. He wasn’t trying to be protective out of brotherly concern. He wanted to fuck me and marry me and have kids with me. He’s sick, he makes me sick, he makes me want to ruin anything he ever touched. I hate this house, I hate his fucking truck in the driveway and his damn mower and the flowers…” She’s crying again and I’m still back at Jayden wants to fuck her. How the hell does she know

something like that? She must have misinterpreted a note or a letter or something. This can’t be true. He’s Jayden, a Marine Captain, my best friend and neighbor, Tiana’s big brother. He’s just a normal guy. “How did you find out about this?” “He…” she gulps in a breath between sobs, “He told the police that he loved me and needed to see me. They told him I said no and he freaked out and started talking about a room in the basement that was proof of how much he loved me. I reach over to the night table and grab a wad of tissues. She takes it and blows her nose. “What room?” “It’s sick, Drake, he’s so sick. I don’t want to go down there again. I left the door open, you can look at it if you want to.” “I’m not leaving you. Does the room prove what the police are saying?”

“Oh God, yes, it’s horrible. There are pictures of me everywhere. Some when I’m sleeping, some when I’m working in the yard, running, cooking, showering, and not just recently. There are videos and photographs down there from when we lived in England. He’s been like this forever.” My mind is racing. He’s been watching her, always. He’s probably the one who was sending her the videos. He wanted to scare her into coming home and keep her from becoming famous so he could have her all to himself. And when I started getting close, he sent some more to keep her scared, hoping she would seclude herself and hide. It all makes perfect sense now. “Did you find any of the footage from that night you went out in New York?” “What? No, oh my God.” She closes her eyes absorbing what I’m suggesting. “It was him, wasn’t it? He sent the videos. Do you think he had someone drug me? Maybe there are

more videos of the rest of that night, we can see if…” “Do you want to see that? I mean if it happened.” I’m a firm believer that some things are better left unknown, but if she can’t go on without the truth I’ll understand. “I don’t know, part of me wants to know, but I’m trying to deal with so much right now. I don’t think there’s room in my grief room for that.” “Grief room?” “Yeah, I had this therapist once who told me to put all my sorrows in a room in my head and deal with them one at a time.” “Let me help you deal with some of them. I’m here for you, I’m not going anywhere, ever.” She blinks her puffy, sad eyes while she considers my offer. “There’s more, more to tell.”

“I’m listening.” “Jayden was responsible for setting the fire that killed our parents. He wrote about it in a journal I found in his horrible room. He wanted me so badly, he killed our parents to have me. And then when we moved here to live with Aunt Marla, he killed her too. He put something in her drink that caused her heart attack. It was him, he did everything, he killed them all.” “He admitted to this in a journal?” “Yes, and to the police.” My God, what has he done? Who is he? I’ve been living next-door to a psychopath. I’ve been working and drinking and watching football on the weekends with a deranged man. I feel duped and deceived, but only a fraction of the amount that Tiana must be feeling. Her entire life is not what she thought it was. No wonder she tried to flip this house upside down. He took out anyone who ever loved her, anyone he

saw as a threat to him. “I can’t believe I never saw… I don’t even know what signs a person like that would exhibit.” “Me either and I’m his sister. His flesh and blood.” “What’s going to happen to him now?” “I don’t know. I don’t think the UK extradites criminals and I don’t know how he will be charged with crimes he committed so long ago in another country.” “But he admitted to it, right?” “Yes, but I’m sure someone will claim that he’s unstable. So fucking unstable…” “Baby, I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t help at all to say it, but I am and I’ll be here any way you want me to be, forever.” “Forever?” she asked. “Forever,” I promise.

“You’re all I have left.” “I’m all you need.” “You’re incorrigible,” Tiana states. “Your point?” “I love incorrigible,” she smiles. “And I love you,” I tell her, tenderly.

CHA P T ER 2 5

Tiana

TWO YEARS Later Discovering the truth about my brother devastated me in ways I never could have imagined. The deceit and betrayal of what he did, created a dark space in my mind. And to this day, I am unable to fully trust anyone other than Drake.

The rage inside of me built until it was a dangerous thing, threatening to destroy me. But Drake wasn’t about to let that happen. His love for me never wavered. I would never have survived this without him. Jayden is in prison, on death row for the murder of my aunt Marla. I will never receive justice for my parents’ deaths. It happened fifteen years ago in another country and there is no proof, even though he continues to admit he did it. I’ve made peace with that after a lot of therapy and a million long talks with my husband. Drake and I married eighteen months after we met. He proposed one romantic spring evening while walking through a park on Bluebell Island. It is where we now live in a sprawling ranch home with our dog Buddy and soon to be son or daughter. I’m five months pregnant with our first child and Drake is almost completely blind. We have been each other’s calm in the storm that has been our

lives over the past two years. He was there for me after Jayden went to prison and I broke down. I was there for him when he retired from the Marine Corps and adapted to living without his sight. I think we’re past the difficult times, not to say there won’t be other hurdles, but I pray nothing will be as bad as what we have gone through so far. It’s time to start living.

EPILOGUE

Three Years Later

FIVE YEARS AGO, I was a different person. Five years ago, terror struck my life but I also met my savior. Tonight, I am going to celebrate five years with the greatest man I’ve ever known. “So, where’s he taking you?” Suki asks, flopping onto her stomach on my bed.

“I don’t know, it’s a surprise.” “It’s Thursday, who’s teaching for you tomorrow?” “Mrs. Albertson, she doesn’t know crap about music but I left a lesson plan for her to follow, she should do fine.” I teach music at Park View Elementary School on Blue Bell Island, ten minutes from our house. Those who can, do; those that can’t, teach, they say. Drake says that doesn’t apply to me because I can do both, but I don’t care, I love my life now. I would never trade it for fortune and fame. I believe Drake’s view that everything happens for a reason more than ever now. “Well, I’m glad you got the day off. You two deserve a three-day weekend alone with no kids, how long has it been anyway?” I turn and check out my ass in the mirror making sure it looks good in my new dress. My wide eyes snap to hers in the glass, “Five years.”

“What? No way, you guys don’t go away for the weekend once in a while?” “No. We spent the first two years together recovering from one thing or another and then we had Jack and then Sydney” “Yeah, I guess you have been kind of busy.” I roll my eyes. “A little.” She rolls onto her back and throws her arms over her head, “Good thing you have good ol’ Auntie Suki to babysit.” “Thank you. We appreciate you coming to help. Giselle will be back tomorrow, I promise you won’t be stuck with them all weekend.” “I can handle it if grandma doesn’t show up, you go and have fun. Do me a favor, though.” “What’s that?” “Don’t get pregnant again.”

“Oh hush, you act like we have a dozen kids.” “You have two more than me. Dylan doesn’t want kids yet. I keep telling him I’m not getting any younger over here. I’ll be thirty next year. I can feel my eggs drying up.” “Mommy!” Jack yells running through the room with Drake on his heels. They’re playing hide and seek, their favorite game. You’d think it would be difficult for Drake to be the seeker but he has developed supersonic hearing with the loss of his sight. He can hear you breathing a mile away. I know because he always finds me. He says it’s not my breathing but my scent that leads him to me, though. “You can’t hide from me, I hear you.” Drake wiggles his fingers and Jack squeals when he scoots under the bed. He’s a goner. Drake roars as he charges the bed and grabs Jack’s foot right before he disappears under the bed skirt. Suki sees the attack and looks at me, “How’s he do

that?” Drake pops up with Jack giggling in his arms, “I can still see.” Her mouth falls open and she sits up on her knees looking at me for an explanation. “He likes to make people think he can still see. It’s stupid. I told you not to do that, Drake.” “It keeps people on their toes. They’re never sure if I’m watching them or not. And by the way, you tell me to do a lot of things that I don’t do, Mrs. Sassy.” “Mrs. Sassy? That makes you Mr. Sassy then, right?” He shrugs and Buddy waltzes into the room to see what’s going on. Buddy is Drake’s service dog, but he’s off the clock, so to say, when we are home. Sydney starts to cry on the video monitor and I close my eyes.

“I’m on it,” Suki says jumping off the bed. “You guys are nuts. I’m going to play with the only normal person in this house.” “Sydney is not normal, take that back.” Drake doesn’t like anyone to refer to his children as normal. He’s all about individuality and considers normal an insult. “I will not. She hasn’t had time to be corrupted. Out of the four of you, she’s the most normal member of the Valentine family.” “You know we can leave tomorrow when my mother gets back in town. We don’t have to leave our remarkable, unique, talented daughter in the hands of this mediocrity lover.” “Oh, will you stop, please? Your remarkable, unique, talented daughter will be fine with me for one night.” These two have developed an odd relationship since Suki and her husband Dylan moved to North Carolina to take care of his ailing grandmother.

They bicker and banter, but they agree on one very important thing, they both love me. With Jack slung over his shoulder laughing; Drake carefully counts his steps from the bed to the door and leaves the room with a huff. Suki isn’t far behind him when Sydney lets out an exceptional yelp followed by a long scream. Maybe he’s right. She seems to be a uniquely loud screamer. Not a talent I’m excited for her to have. Buddy sits down and stares at me as if he’s waiting for an explanation. “I don’t know, Bud, I really don’t know.” I watch Suki pluck Sydney from her crib. She rocks her back and forth and tries to convince her that screaming isn’t the answer. Wow, does she have a lot to learn about babies. I turn back to the mirror and jump when Drake is standing an inch away smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

“Shit, why are you sneaking up on me?” I ask. “Because I’m good at it.” “That you are.” “I want to check out your dress,” he tells me. I hold out my arms, “Check away.” He starts as he always does, with his hands on my face tracing my cheeks and my jawline ending with a thumb on my bottom lip. “My dress is down here.” I move his hands to my hips and he slides them up to my breasts. “I am aware of that. It’s beautiful.” “You can tell that from copping a feel of my breasts?” I ask with a smile on my face. “I don’t really give a shit about the dress, I want what’s inside of it,” he retorts. He brushes his thumbs over my taut nipples and I sigh. God, I miss uninterrupted sex. Having kids

really changes things. His warm hands slide down the black fitted silk dress and around to cup my ass. Pulling me against his solid chest, he pushes his cock against my tummy. “I can’t wait to have all of this to myself for three whole days.” The growl in his voice sends a shiver up my spine and I slide my hands over his broad muscular back. “Where are you taking me?” “Who cares? You’ll never see the outside of the hotel room.” “Neither will you.” “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” We have long since stopped being careful about his blindness. We shock people with our jokes and non-politically correct references, but as the years roll by it’s less and less a disability and more a way of life.

“You should probably punish me for that,” I suggest teasingly. “You’d like it too much,” he responds with a wink. “You’re incorrigible.” “Your point?” “This is my point.” His mouth crashes down on mine and he reaches back to close the door. His fingers feel for the zipper of my dress and he lowers it trailing the tips of his fingers as it opens. “Mm, I can’t wait until tonight, I need you now,” he murmurs against my neck. “The kids…” My protest is pathetic, mostly spoken out as a motherly obligation. I know they’re being taken care of and I want him as much as he wants me. He ignores me, thank God, and pushes the dress off my shoulders peeling it from my skin until it’s on the floor in a heap. It’s going to be a wrinkled mess. I won’t be able to wear it to dinner if we

even make it to dinner. “Did you pack the handcuffs?” he whispers kneeling in front of me to remove my lace panties. “Yes.” I hold his muscular shoulders for balance when I step out. “Zip ties?” “Yes.” “Rope?” “Yes.” “That’s a shame, I’ll have to wait until we’re on the ship to tie you up.” I snap from my relaxed trance-like state, “You’re taking me on a cruise?” “Yes.” He places a kiss on my navel. “I’m going to make love to you on the high seas, Mrs. Valentine.” He kisses me again a little lower and I reenter my trance. “And the low seas.” Another kiss on my

mound and my knees wobble. “And every sea in between.” His last kiss is more than a kiss and I collapse against his body, but he’s got me. He’s always got me.

MAJOR’S BABY

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To my fans. This one’s for you. Love, Emerson

PROLO GUE

There is a place and a time in the garden of life for order and discipline, but neither belongs where my love and passion grows. – Violet Washington Weddings. I sigh and turn in a circle, looking at the chaos in my bedroom. My little brother’s best friend is getting married next weekend, and for the eighth time, I am a bridesmaid and not a bride. I’m not the marrying type, or so everyone says, and it

must be true because I’m twenty-seven with no husband in sight. The phrase, ‘Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.’ was coined after me. I need to finish packing, but Mom keeps interrupting me. She’s here to help me get my things together for Mattie’s wedding, but she’s not really helping at all. I had to stop and show her where to find the coffee in my kitchen. Twice, she’s shown me things she thinks are hilarious on Instagram. I made sure to remind her that she’s a traitor for spending so much time on Instagram when her daughter works for Facebook. She laughed and flashed another overly sarcastic meme in my face. “Mom, have you seen my dress?” I call over my shoulder, walking into my closet to look one more time for the damn thing. “The long, pretty cornflower blue one?” “Yes.” “With the low V cut in the back and the pretty

sash?” “Yes, Mother, that’s the one. Have you seen it?” I ask, rolling my eyes. Mom is such a space case sometimes. I wonder how on earth we made it from state to state with our belongings all those years that Dad was in the military. “I don’t know.” “Mother, you just described it to a tee, and now you’re saying you don’t know where it is?” She shuffles around the corner into my bedroom, holding her cup of coffee with one hand while looking at her phone. She looks up at me briefly. “You asked if I had seen it and I have—just not lately,” she says, leaning against the doorframe. “That doesn’t help me much. We need to get on the road if we want to make tee off at two thirty, and I can’t leave without my dress.” “Fourteen thirty, Violet. You were raised with

military time. Why don’t you use it?” I heave another sigh. This used to be an everyday argument when I lived at home, and it’s one I don’t miss. “Because, Mom, the rest of the world uses normal time.” “Well, it just makes more sense,” she says, shaking her head. I’m not arguing. It’s a lost cause and I need to find my damn dress. “Here, put these by the door,” I say, thrusting the only two small bags I’ve managed to pack in her direction. She huffs when she’s forced to put her phone in her pocket to hold the bags. “Oh! In the shower!” she yells, and I jump. “The shower?” “Your dress. It’s hanging in the shower, remember?

You put it in there yesterday to get the wrinkles out.” “Oh yes, the shower. Take it easy on the coffee, Mom. You just scared the shit out of me.” I retrieve my dress from the bathroom, and when I pass the large mirror over the vanity, I catch my reflection. I look tired. The circles under my eyes are starting to show my insomnia, and my lack of makeup only adds to the effect. Oh well. We’re going to be outside drinking beer and sweating on the golf course all day. I don’t need makeup. I’m not trying to impress anyone anyway. I’ve recently sworn off long-term relationships with men. One-night stands? Yes. Boyfriends? No. Crummy luck with men follows me around like a heavy, black storm cloud. I’m a jerk magnet, and I’ve come to accept it.

CHAPTER 1

MAJOR

Target Girl “Whoa, shit!” she yells when we crash into each other and no fewer than fifteen personal hygiene items go flying into the air and crashing to the floor. I hold onto my bulbs because, unlike this woman, I don’t try to balance an unmanageable amount of purchases in my arms without a basket. She’s on her knees collecting her things before I can apologize, which technically, I don’t have to

do because it’s not my fault. She ran into me. I should move to help her, but she’s really fucking beautiful . . . down there . . . on her knees. For fuck’s sake, Major, get a grip. You’re a damn Marine. Help her already. I crouch down just as she’s standing, and we collide again. This is ridiculous. I stiffen when her head cracks against the bottom of my jaw and she moans and grabs her head. “Ow!” she yells for the second time in a matter of seconds. “Stop moving,” I say, taking her by the shoulders. “I’ll take care of it.” Her eyes narrow and her lips press together in a straight line. She looks pissed or maybe shocked— I’m not sure which—but thankfully, she can follow instructions. She stills, and I straighten up to retrieve a shopping basket from the opposite end of the aisle. When I turn around, someone is standing with her,

presumably her mother the way she’s hovering and checking the lump that I am sure is growing on her head. I crouch down, neatly place each item in the basket, and hand it to her. “Shopping baskets significantly reduce the instance of head injuries in retail establishments,” I say. I’m being serious, but I can see a myriad of emotions crossing her beautiful face, including irritation and anger—but most of all, frustration. “Watching where one’s going doesn’t hurt either,” she says, flashing me a quick sarcastic smile. I don’t have time to deal with her right now, even though I would really like to stand here and continue to watch her mocha skin flush and her deep brown eyes flash with anger. I look at my watch. Fuck. I have nine minutes to get home and get my day back on schedule. I should ask if she’s okay. I should probably apologize, even though it was clearly not my fault, but I’m in a hurry. I step around the two women, grab the razor

blades I was after in this aisle, and make my way through the store to the cashier. Back at home, I install the light bulbs that unexpectedly exploded this morning. I dispose of the containers and recheck twice to be sure I didn’t miss any glass when I swept up earlier. Then I sweep one more time for good measure and breathe a sigh of relief. I had to rewrite my entire list of things to do today just to insert ‘go to Target’, but the satisfaction of crossing it off was worth it. My day is back on track, it’s sixteen thirty, and I’m on my way out the door to start my afternoon run. What a fucking relief. I can relax for an hour now and let my mind go blank while I count my steps. One, two, three, four. Only 1296 to go before I meet Garcia and

Davis for dinner and drinks. Sweat is dripping down my back and between my shoulder blades. One mile into my run, the sun is in my eyes and the smell of fresh cut grass is thick in the air. California in the summer. It doesn’t get any better than this. My mind is multitasking this afternoon. Part of it is counting my steps, another part is counting the palm trees as I pass them, and another is replaying the Target incident. I can’t stop thinking about that woman on her knees with her Nike sun visor and her long, wavy black hair in a messy ponytail. When we were finished banging heads and colliding into each other, I systematically assessed her beauty. She was understated and casual, wearing shorts and a tank top. Her glasses made her look like a sexy librarian. She looked like she was going to play golf. In fact, the woman who was with her did too. Mother and daughter golf. How sweet. There was something about her, something interesting and intriguing. I usually deplore

sassiness and disobedience in a woman, but when she spoke back to me, it was a turn on. Fuck, I need to get laid. I’m getting a semi thinking about a stranger at Target. I don’t date, and it’s been a while since I’ve had time to go out perusing for someone to bed, but it’s getting harder and harder to go without sex—pun intended. Serious relationships are impossible, and I don’t do casual well either. I can’t stand the loose unpredictability of that kind of setup. I do one-night stands in impersonal hotels where no one gets attached and no one gets hurt. Things have been hectic on base lately with new recruits arriving fresh out of boot camp. I haven’t had a spare minute to go out for anything other than dinner. Bars aren’t my thing, so Davis and Garcia compromised, agreeing to meet for dinner even though I’m sure they will try to drag me along for a pub crawl when we’re finished. I’ll tolerate one or two for a hookup, but when I’ve found someone to break my dry streak, I’m gone.

CHAPTER 2

VIOLET

Jerk Magnet I set my shopping basket on the conveyer belt with a thump, looking at the contents with new interest. Mom was right. I should have written a list. All the way from San Diego to Oceanside, I continued to remember things I had forgotten to pack. By the time we got here, I knew we had to make a quick swing through Target before checking into the hotel.

Mr. Methodical has organized every item by size and color to fit perfectly in the bottom of the small shopping basket. Who does that? And in two seconds, the same amount of time it would have taken me to toss them all in there randomly. But no, he has systematically arranged them to look like a basket in a Target commercial . . . better, actually. The longer I look, the more interesting this becomes. I’m a software programmer. I naturally look for patterns and similarities when I’m working on a project, and there is more than one trend going on here. Vitamins and Ibuprofen are in one corner, body wash and deodorant in another—yeah, I forgot my damn deodorant. Contact solution and Band-Aids are nestled in next to shaving cream and razors, and most amusing is the placement of the tampons next to a box of condoms. I can’t help but chuckle at that one. This week is going to be the perfect opportunity for a much needed one-night- stand.

I suck at relationships. I notoriously choose the worst guys possible. I’m a jerk magnet, pure and simple. My last boyfriend, Luke, had a serious case of wandering eye. The piece of shit would blatantly check out other women and even flirt with them when we were together. One year later, I got fed up and ended it. He admitted he was a cheater —yeah, big surprise—and he told me I was too laid back. So when did not being an uptight nag become a deal breaker? Before that, I was in several short relationships, never longer than six months, which was just long enough for me to become bored and unchallenged. “What are you staring at, Vie?” Mom asks. “Look at this, Mom. That guy has my stuff organized by color, package size and category. It’s interesting but . . . weird.” She looks into the basket and tilts her head. “What made you notice that?” “I just do,” I say and shrug.

“He’s probably a Marine. Did you see how well dressed he was? He was dressed like he gives a damn. Your father used to be organized like that, and a snappy dresser too.” I look at her with one brow lifted high. “He may be a Marine, but daddy wasn’t this anal. He liked things in their place, but this . . . this is strange.” “Oh, I’m not so sure. He was a very tidy man.” My basket rolls away, and the cashier dismantles the work of art my crash buddy created for me. “He was an ass,” I say. “Your father? He was most certainly not an ass,” she says, defending my dad. “No, Mother, the guy who crashed into me and got all OCD with my stuff.” “Oh, well yes, I guess maybe a little. He was really hot though,” she says, fanning herself with the copy of Glamour magazine that she’s been thumbing through since we got in line.

“Oh my God, Mother, he was at least fifteen years younger than you.” “So?” I huff and ignore her. I don’t want to hear any more about my mother’s new interest in younger men. Her cougarism is so uncharacteristic of her, sometimes I wonder if she’s really my mom. She’s a very attractive fifty-year-old woman. Sometimes, people mistake her for my sister, but I can’t see her with anyone but my father. Dad was twenty years older than Mom, and he’s been gone for three years, but no man will ever compare to Major General Lamar Washington. Ever. He was honorable, strong, courageous, and above all, loyal to his country and his family. He was a true Marine. Semper Fidelis. “Oh Vie, I was kidding—well, kind of. He was gorgeous, but you know I’d never steal from your pool of potential suitors. I had the love of my life for twenty-five years. I’ll never find another like

him, and I want nothing more than for you to have that kind of love too, honey.” I’m not worried about her thinning the fish in the sea. Like I said, I’m not interested. I just want to find someone to have meaningless sex with this week—simple as that. A gust of warm wind hits me in the face when we walk through the automatic doors. I squint into the sun when we step into the parking lot. “Mom, if you date somebody that young, please don’t bring him home for Thanksgiving, okay?” She shoves my shoulder with the palm of her hand as we load my bags into the car together and chuckle. When we arrive at the hotel, we check in at the front desk and dump our bags in our room. We have ten minutes to get to the Marine Memorial golf course, where we are meeting the wedding party for nine holes of golf followed by dinner and, God willing, a lot of drinks.

In the lobby, we bump into my brother’s good friend, Kimber West. Kimber, my brother, Taye, his friend, Mattie, and I used to hang out in high school. I haven’t talked to her in a long time. She’s married to a Marine, and I heard she’s part of the wedding party, but she’s alone this afternoon. “Hey, Kimber, how are you? My gosh, it’s been so long,” I say, side hugging the brunette bombshell. “Oh hi! Gosh, I know. We need to do a better job of staying in touch.” “I keep an eye on you through Facebook, you know,” I say, swinging two fingers from my eyes to hers in an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture. “Ah, that’s right. I heard you got your dream job. Congratulations.” Her genuine smile reaches all the way to her eyes, and she turns to greet my mother, “Hi, Mrs. Washington, how have you been?” “Oh great, honey. It’s good to see you. Call me Lilly, though. Mrs. Washington sounds so old,”

Mom whispers. “Where’s Caleb? You guys must have gotten here early,” I say. Kimber’s face falls when I mention her handsome Marine husband, Caleb. “We’re divorced,” she says. Her eyes fill with tears, and I step in to hug her, muffling an apology into her thick hair. “I’m so sorry, Kimber. I didn’t know.” She hugs me tight and steps away sniffling. Mom hands her a tissue, and that’s when I notice the bump. It’s small but noticeable on Kimber’s slight frame. She’s pregnant. Her hands flutter to her tummy after she dabs at her eyes. “It’s been a big change, but I’ll be okay. I’m just . . .” She tips her head back, trying hard to hold back the tears, but they start to flow, and I feel like I’ve torn a scab off a healing wound. I never saw anything on Facebook about her and Caleb getting

a divorce, but then again, I don’t make it a habit to troll through my friends’ pages regularly. Mom gathers her up into a comforting hug. She looks at me over Kimber’s shoulder with a question in her eyes and I shrug. I don’t know what to do. I have no idea what’s going on. I can’t imagine Caleb leaving his wife, let alone leaving her when she’s pregnant. Maybe the baby is the reason for the divorce. Maybe Kimber cheated on him and she’s having another man’s baby. Maybe Caleb didn’t want to have kids. Maybe there’s something wrong with the baby. About three hundred scenarios flash through my head before my mom and Kimber break their embrace. “I’m so sorry. I thought I was past all this damn crying, but being here and seeing him again is harder than I thought it would be.” She wraps her arms around her waist above her pregnant belly, attempting to pull herself together.

I’ve had my heart stomped on and I’ve been humiliated by men, but all of my shitty experiences rolled up in one probably don’t equal the pain Kimber must be suffering. “Don’t be sorry for crying. Come, we can go sit and talk for a while. It might do you some good,” I say, motioning toward the lobby. “Oh no, no. I know you’re on your way to the golf outing. I don’t want to keep you. This weekend is about Mattie and Belle. I was going to try and play a hole or two, but I think I’d better go lay down for a bit instead.” “For heaven’s sakes, Kim, we don’t mind missing golf to catch up with a friend,” Mom says. “No, I insist. You’ll make me feel worse if you don’t go. I remember how much you love golf, Vie. Go have fun, and tell everyone hello for me, will you?” “Of course I will, but are you sure? We could go sit in the restaurant and get something to eat.”

“I’m sure. Thank you though.” Mom and I hug Kimber and watch her step into the elevator that will take her back to her room, where I imagine she will spend the afternoon crying. When the doors slide shut, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “My God, Mom, he left her and she’s pregnant.” “We don’t know the whole story, honey. Let’s go. Maybe Caleb will be there and we can ask him what in the Sam Hill is going on,” she says. “Okay, yeah. I think he’s a groomsman. I still can’t believe he’d do this. I can’t be held responsible if I kick him in the nuts, Mom.” “Easy now, firecracker. Let’s hear him out before you do any nut kicking.” On the way to the golf course, I keep trying to imagine how Kimber must be feeling. She’s alone and pregnant and sad, but one thought plays on repeat in my mind.

I’d rather start out knowing that I’m doing it alone with no expectations. If I’m relying on myself, then only I can let me down, and I know I wouldn’t do that. Relationships are poisonous. They’re wolves in sheep’s clothing. Everything starts out all sparkly and full of hope, and just when you think you’ve finally got it figured out, BAM! Somebody cheats, or they’re bored with you, or worse, both. And then there are the commitment issues and the baggage. It never ends. There are a million excuses to leave a relationship, and only one good reason to stay: true love. Since I don’t believe in it anymore, I’m sticking with myself.

CHAPTER 3

MAJOR

Clean White Shirt I don’t really want to go out. I almost changed my mind. But the thought of the toffee-skinned beauty on her knees at my feet in aisle four of Target flashed through my mind when I was in the shower, and my enthusiasm was reborn. The house is quiet as I re-iron a pair of black slacks and a button down white dress shirt that are fresh from the dry cleaner. My housekeeper, Edith,

finished scrubbing the kitchen floor quickly when she heard me come in from my run earlier. She was humming a Spanish tune that I have heard her sing a million times before, but as soon as she knew I was home, she went on her way without a word. I stand in front of a full-length mirror, slide my arms into the crisp shirt, and button each button, paying careful attention to the thread that was used to sew the buttons onto the shirt. I’m a stickler about loose threads. When I’m finished and there’s not a loose thread in sight, I slide my black slacks off the ironing board and step into them, making sure not to put a single wrinkle in them. I grab my pristinely shined loafers and head downstairs. At the door, I slip on my shoes and stop to adjust a vase on the credenza in the foyer to the right just a smidge and find a few loose petals on the glass. Edith is going to have to make a more thorough inspection before she finishes cleaning the house tomorrow. After sweeping the floor, gathering the petals from

the credenza and cleaning the glass, I adjust the vase once more and head out to the Blue Water Bar and Grill. The smell of fresh fish and beer is heavy in the air when I step inside the restaurant. It’s unusually busy as I make my way past the hostess. “I see my party. I’ll show myself back,” I say when she shoots me a questionable look. Izzy nods her head when she recognizes me and turns away, immune to my good looks and charm. I don’t take it personally. I come here often, and I happen to know Izzy is gay. “Major!” They yell and hold up what looks like shots of tequila. I take the empty seat where a shot is waiting for me. “Garcia, Davis, thanks for waiting to order,” I say. “We haven’t ordered yet. These are before dinner drinks so they don’t count. Sit down and have a couple,” Davis says with a slur.

I don’t drink the shot. I’m a whisky kind of man. Instead, I catch the eye of a beautiful brunette waitress and crook my finger at her. She approaches out of breath, balancing a full tray of drinks. “Hi, is there something I can get you, Major?” she asks. I don’t drink here often, but I do enjoy dinner on weeknights when the place isn’t swarming with weekend partyers and golf enthusiasts. She recognizes me and bends so that I can speak into her ear. “I’ll have the usual, and if you’re available, I’ll have you later,” I say. She blushes a lovely shade of red and smiles before she moves away. “Of course I can do that for you. I’ll have that right out, Major Steele.” The guys are sitting with their mouths agape, eyes full of admiration. Watch and learn, boys. You’re with the master tonight.

“How do you do that, man? It’s so unfair. We’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes, and she’s gone by once to drop off our drinks. We haven’t even ordered our food yet, and you come waltzing in here and she’s like a dog in heat,” Davis says. “She knows me, and I’m better looking than you.” “Ah, no, you didn’t,” he says. “See, Garcia? I told you we shouldn’t invite overachievers. They’re no fun,” Davis says. “I dunno, Davis. I think I like being associated with Major. If I can go home with a piece of ass like that, I’ll wait for my dinner all night.” “That ‘piece of ass’ is mine unless I find another one sooner. She isn’t off work until they close, and I’m not interested in staying out late if I don’t have to.” “Damn, Major, you’re not playing around tonight, are you? Ready to drag one back to the cave already,” Davis says.

“Yes, well I’m not planning on hanging out with you jarheads all night. I’m an efficient shopper. I can find what I want pretty quickly.” Shopping reminds me of Target, and Target reminds me of that curvy brown mind invader. Why does that woman keep cropping up in my thoughts? Wendy the waitress has proven in the past that she can keep up with me in bed, even after a long shift on her feet serving food and drinks. She knows the deal—sex and nothing else—and that makes her a good choice, but I’m keeping my options open tonight. Wendy breezes by and arches back when a large group tries to barge past her. She expertly balances her drinks, and I reach out to place my hands on her waist to support her. She looks down at me, her big blue eyes full of appreciation and a glimmer of desire, and I wink. When she turns, I politely remove my hands while she passes out our drinks, saving mine for last. She stands close to my side, chatting with the boys and

getting their food orders. She absentmindedly adjusts my tumbler of Black Label scotch whiskey until it’s exactly where she knows I like it. I still move it a little to the left. That’s good service. I service her well, so she takes care of me. Our food is delivered remarkably fast, and Wendy keeps the drinks coming at a steady pace. When we’re finished, we make our way into the packed bar, where the music is loud and the people are louder. There are a lot of Marines in the bar tonight. There are usually a lot of Marines in Oceanside, but they’re especially thick in here tonight. Wendy blocked off a section for three at the end of the bar with a perfect view of the entire place. She’s an exemplary employee, one of Blue Water’s best. Davis, Garcia and I take a seat and the bartender takes our order. “Damn, thanks for the VIP seats, Major,” Garcia says.

“You can thank Wendy for that. She takes good care of me.” “I think every woman within a ten-mile radius takes good care of you,” Davis says, holding his fingers up to make quotation marks. “Well, I’m charming. What can I say?” I scan the bar and notice that it’s full of younger women tonight. They tend to not understand the rules, but if I find one who doesn’t seem too clingy, I’ll consider her. If she can deal with sex being just sex with no strings, no exchanging of phone numbers and no cuddling, she’s a go. The phone number thing is imperative. I don’t even bring my phone into the hotel room anymore after a crazy stalker got into mine. She called herself when I was in the shower. I had to change my number three times before I finally got rid of her. I like to spend a couple of hours exhausting a woman in bed until she’s sated and her legs are Jell-O. When it’s over, it’s over, and we never see

each other again. Unless you work in my favorite restaurant as a waitress, that is. Wendy’s an exception to my rules because she plays the game so obediently. I lean my back against the wall at the end of the bar and look out over the crowd. No one in particular is catching my eye, but I do notice some fucking asshole groping a young girl who is making it very clear that she’s not interested in his advances. They’re standing in a small alcove where he’s all but got her cornered like an animal, and people are just walking by, intentionally paying them no mind. My blood boils in my veins and my heart hammers against my ribcage. I’m on my feet and cutting across the dance floor before Davis and Garcia have a chance to ask me where I’m going. I squeeze through the bodies on the dance floor, raising my arms over my head and turning sideways when some of them get too close. I would have much preferred to go around and avoid all of these sweaty people touching me, but a sense

of urgency is driving me. The petite blonde cries out when the asshole presses her against the wall, but no one is close enough to hear her but me. The music is loud, and he’s got his pervert hand over her mouth now. This guy is going to regret scaring this young girl. He’s not going to like what I’m going to do to him. I slide my thick forearm around his throat from behind, putting him in a headlock. His back is against my chest and I have the overwhelming urge to bite this fucker’s ear off. I could easily kill him. I’ve done it before in Iraq, but we’re not in Iraq now, and I have to follow the law that protects everyone, even scum like this guy. This poor girl can’t be more than fifteen. She’s trembling from head to toe and tears are welling in her big brown eyes, ready to spill down her cheeks any second. How did she get into this position? How the hell did he get her alone? “Unless that’s your baby sister and you’re trying to take her back to Mom and Dad, you’d better take

your fucking hands off her right now.” My words are calm, cold and heartless. His body becomes rigid, and then he does the dumbest thing he could have chosen to do. He lies. “She’s my girlfriend, man, back the fuck off,” he says, but the girl’s eyes are wild with fear as she shakes her head back and forth. “I’m calling bullshit on that,” I say and tighten my hold on his throat. He gasps and groans while I consider crushing his esophagus. Garcia and Davis appear behind me. “Major, sir, he can’t breathe,” Davis says. “He doesn’t deserve to breathe.” “Maybe so, sir, but he’s turning blue. I think you’ve made your point,” Garcia says, and I turn my head to the side and glare at him. Garcia’s face morphs from concerned to fearful when he sees the black hate in my eyes. He steps back, and I swing the idiot asshole around by the neck and shove him toward the exit.

“Make sure that little girl is okay and get her back to her family,” I say to Davis. He turns to the girl and begins to talk to her in a soothing voice as I move away. I’ve already dragged him to the entrance of the restaurant when the little cocksucker starts to come around. He hasn’t learned his lesson yet. He starts thrashing around like a fish out of water, yelling that he’s being attacked, when the manager approaches us with a security guard. “Evening, sir, how’s your night going?” I ask as if I weren’t holding a piece of scum in a headlock. “Fine, Major Steele. What’s going on here?” “Oh this?” I say, looking down at the cradle robber. “Nothing, just putting out some trash that was stinking up the place.” He lifts one eyebrow and juts his chin toward the door, giving me his blessing, and I take the piss ant out and throw his ass down on the grass.

“Keep your hands off little girls, or I’ll cut them off. You’ll never touch one again or jerk off looking at their pictures on the Internet, you fucking pervert.” He rolls over in the grass and groans with his hands around his own neck, panting. I’d like to kick him in the balls, but I don’t. I am a Marine. I have been for twelve years, and I am disciplined. I can keep myself in check, although this guy is really testing me. I walk past the manager and his ‘security’ guard on my way back into the bar. “Keep an eye on him and don’t let him back in. He had a young girl cornered in the bar, manhandling her.” I don’t stop to chat about what happened or give any details. I just join Davis back at the bar. “Damn, Major, I thought you were gonna snap his neck,” Davis says. “I wanted to,” I say. “Was she all right? Did Garcia find her parents?”

“Yeah, they were in the restaurant lobby looking for her. They were just about to announce that she was missing over the PA.” “I should have made sure the manager called the police. That man is dangerous, and I don’t even want to think of what he would have done with that girl if he’d made it out of here with her.” I’m a hard-ass fighting machine, but when women and children are in danger of being victimized, it makes me nauseous. I have a younger sister, and we had a very difficult childhood, to put it mildly. I was protective of her because I had to be. We weren’t even safe in our own home. Garcia approaches, grinning from ear to ear, “You’re the man, Major. That guy nearly shit himself out there. They called the cops, but he ran off. I don’t know if they’ll find him. If he’s got any brains, he’ll run home to his mama and never show his face here again.” The bartender appears and asks me if I need

another drink and tells us all our drinks are on the house tonight. Davis whoops and Garcia orders two expensive foreign beers for himself. “I’ll have another scotch—make it a double.” “You got it, Major. Coming right up.” “This night just got interesting,” Davis says. This night just got dangerous. The adrenaline in my veins is still pumping, and I’ve had more to drink than usual. I’m not drunk—far from it—but I do need to relax and try to forget about the piece of trash that most likely got away. If he tries to hurt another innocent girl, it would be partially my fault. If I hadn’t wanted to break his neck so fucking badly, I could have waited for the police to arrive. The bartender slides my drink across the bar and then a napkin with writing on it that says, I love a hero. Dance with me? “It’s from the lady at the other end of the bar,” the

bartender says, and I look up to see where he’s pointing. Standing with a couple of other women is a tall blonde who, by the world’s standard, is stunningly beautiful, but to me, she’s average. I prefer my women a little thicker and brunette, but she’s inviting me to dance and she appears to be available now as opposed to three a.m. when Wendy will be off work. I lift one corner of my lips and wink at her, taking her up on her offer. “Later, guys,” I say when I get up and make my way to the other end of the bar. “Good luck,” Garcia says, and I stop to give him a look of disapproval. “The Major doesn’t need luck, stupid,” Davis says, punching Garcia in the arm. I turn and leave so they can watch the master at work. I tip my glass up and down my drink. It burns going

down in the best way. I place the glass on the bar when I reach Blondie. A hush falls over her friends when I approach. I don’t say a word. I just take her hand and lead her to the dance floor. I take her into my arms and pull her close. She starts to say something, but I place my pointer finger over her lips to quiet her. J.T.’s Cry Me a River overlaps with another modern pop song, and the D.J. announces it as a blast from the past, making me feel much older than my thirty-two years. Blondie’s eyes light up, and I hold her close, rolling our hips together and pressing my semi-erect cock against her belly when someone bumps into me from behind. A cold drink saturates the back of my shirt. This is why I fucking hate bars—sloppy drunk ass people not paying attention to what they’re doing. I turn, irritated and ready to give the klutz a piece of my mind, but before I can speak, I’m rendered silent at the sight of none other than the Target girl.

She’s standing in front of me with her arms suspended in the air, holding two empty martini glasses. Her thin white blouse is soaked to the skin with pink alcohol. She’s wide-eyed and ready to be apologetic until she sees that it’s me. “It’s you,” she says accusingly. “Yes, and it’s you,” I drawl. “You seem to have a bad habit of running into people, don’t you?” I say. Blondie peeks around to see what’s happening. “You ran into me at Target, mister, not the other way around, and now you’ve danced right into me and our drinks,” she says. The hair on the back of my neck stands up when I hear her say ‘our’. She’s here with a date. “Do you enjoy arguing?” I ask. She wrinkles up her forehead and frowns. “Of course not.” “Then why do you keep insisting that I am the one running into you—on two occasions now—when

it’s so obvious that you’ve been bumping into me?” “Us,” Blonde pipes up, and I give her a mind your own business look and she does just that. She turns around and blends into the crowd. Shit, there goes dessert. Oh well. There’s always Wendy. “Hey, you look like you need some help, Miss. Let me show you to the bar where we can get something to clean your shirt,” Garcia says, popping up out of nowhere. I watch him slide a hand onto the small of Target girl’s back and I bristle when he begins to steer her away. “No, Garcia, that’s gracious of you, but we know each other. I’ve got this,” I say. I let her slip away this afternoon, but not again. I want to see what it is about this woman that piques my interest. “Okay, sure, Major. No problem,” Garcia says. I nod and remove his hand from her back, replacing it with mine. I begin to move her toward

the door just beyond the bar that leads into the kitchen. “Oh no, I’m not going back there with you,” she says, stopping short. “I’m not planning to bite you.” Yet. “I’m just going to help you clean your shirt.” “Because you bumped into me and spilled my drinks?” she asks. “Nice try, but no. I really just don’t want Captain Garcia to see you without a shirt on,” I say and wink. “Why on earth would he see me with no shirt on?” she asks. I turn her toward the mirror behind the bar so she can see how transparent her blouse is now that it’s wet, and she gasps.

“Oh my God, I didn’t know this shirt was so seethrough,” she says, crossing her arms over her perfect breasts.

I TAKE the empty martini glasses from her hands and set them on the bar. I can see her watching my every move out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t make eye contact with her. I just guide her into the kitchen and down the hall into a small bathroom. One of the waitresses showed me where this bathroom is a long time ago because I refuse to use a public toilet. This one is only for employees, making it minutely better, but better just the same. When the door is closed and the music muffled, I introduce myself. “I’m Major Sawyer Steele with the United States Marines.” “I figured as much,” she says while I rummage under the sink for a clean washcloth.

“Why is that?” “Just a hunch—oh, and your wingman out there called you Major.” “Observant.” I roll my eyes. “What’s your name?” I wet the washcloth and turn to tug her blouse from the waistband of her skirt. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asks without stopping me. “You have alcohol all over your shirt. If you don’t get it off right away, it will be ruined.” Her jaw is tight, and she blinks as she slowly looks me up and down like she’s checking me out. “Like what you see?” I ask. She rolls her eyes. “Actually, my mother thought you were handsome. I was just looking to see if she was right.” “What’s the consensus then?” I prop my ass on the

sink behind me so I’m eye level with her in the tiny bathroom. “You’re all right,” she says, looking up and away from me—typical body language of someone who’s lying. She thinks I’m more than all right or she wouldn’t be here. “So?” “So what?” “Your name?” “Oh, it’s Violet.” That is the perfect name for this gorgeous, curvy, toffee-skinned beauty. It’s delicate like the flower, but wild and free-spirited. “That’s beautiful. I’m taking your blouse, Violet.” I slide the thin material off her shoulders and stop to admire her. She makes no effort to stop me. This beautiful woman is standing inches from me in an ultra-thin silk bra. Her hard nipples strain against the expensive material, and she knows I’m taking

her in, but she stands her ground, never covering up or shrinking away. I like that. “Thank you, Major Steele. Are you going to stare at me all night or clean my blouse?” she asks, placing a hand on her perfectly round hip. “I’d like to do more than stare at you, Violet, but I’m a gentleman. I will clean your blouse and let you be on your way if you’d like.” She nods, and I turn to rinse her shirt in the sink. It’s a mess. I thought I could dab the pink color off, but I can’t. I’ll have to wash the entire thing. She leans around me to look into the sink when she realizes I’ve filled it up and submerged her entire blouse in the water. Then she catches my eyes in the mirror. “How am I going to wear that back out into the bar soaking wet?” she asks, and I turn and point at a hand dryer. When I’ve got all the pink out, I drain the sink and

wring most of the water from the material. I press the button on the hand dryer and hold the delicate piece of material under the blower and move it around until it’s dry. The dryer pops off automatically, and I hold up her clean white blouse. She purses her lips on one side and nods her head up and down. “I’m impressed. Thought you might leave me hanging there for a minute, Major.” “I’m a man of my word.” Before I help her back into her clothes, I can’t help but run a finger along her bra strap and wonder how it would feel to push down the cups and suck on one of her hard, dark nipples. Her breath catches when I arrive at the lace edge above her left breast, and she reaches out to slide her arms into the blouse. I’ve affected her. Good. The lighting in this room is shitty at best, but I’ve seen enough to know I need to have her under me writhing and screaming my name tonight.

I take her hands and stop her fingers from buttoning her blouse. I silently move them to her sides, and she lifts her gaze. I take up where she left off and button it to the top, leaving one open at her throat. Her full lips are parted, and I can feel her quick, short breaths against my skin. Holding her deep, dark brown eyes, I slide my hands over her breasts and brush my thumbs over her taut nipples. She inhales a sharp breath and begins searching for the doorknob behind her. When she’s found it, she opens it and steps out away from me. I don’t allow her to look away from me as I shut the light off in the bathroom. I wasn’t expecting her to pull away, but I don’t give up that easily. She’s forgotten how we got where we are, so I step in front of her to lead the way. “Oh my gosh, your shirt is worse than mine,” she says, touching the damp material. “I have a spare in my car,” I say over my shoulder.

“You keep spare shirts in your car?” “Yes.” “Does this happen to you often?” “Do gorgeous women spill drinks on my shirt? No, but you never know what’s going to happen and I like to be prepared.” “Oh, okay,” she says, seemingly satisfied with that answer. When we’re back in the bar, I maneuver her into our area at the end of the bar. “Captain Garcia, Captain Davis, this is Violet,” I say, introducing her. Both men are on their best behavior when they shake hands with her. “Hey, Violet. I see the Major got your shirt all cleaned up,” Garcia says, dropping his polite gaze to Violet’s chest until he feels me glaring at him. He quickly looks away, making the moment even more uncomfortable.

I’d punch him if he weren’t so drunk, and I also know how hard it is to keep your thoughts clean looking at Violet. She looks so sexy in her almost sheer sleeveless blouse and short black skirt with heels that accentuate her strong calf muscles. She’s petite at no more than five foot one or two, but she’s lean. She’s in great physical shape, silky smooth and curvy in all the right places. Poor Garcia. “I’m going out to the car to change my shirt. Order her some drinks to replace the ones that were spilled.” I look at her directly when I say ‘the ones that were spilled’, making sure she takes note that I am not taking the blame for the accident. She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine. I can get my own drinks. I really need to get back to my group.” I motion to the bartender, and he approaches. “What can I get you, Major?” “Two of whatever this is,” I say, turning so he can

see the back of my shirt. He narrows his eyes to look at my shirt and then back at Violet for a second before pointing his finger at her. “Red velvet martinis,” he says, and Violet smiles and nods her head up and down in agreement. “I’ll be right back.” It’s a big risk, walking away from her. She could disappear, she could leave, or she could be swept up by one of the guys in this bar—many of which are handsome Marines—but I’m confident that I’ve given her something to think about. I also cannot tolerate the sensation of my shirt sticking to my back any longer. Outside, I open the back of my SUV and slide out the drawer of a built-in, custom-made miniature chest of drawers. It was ridiculously expensive to have installed, but the time saved and the convenience of always having a perfectly pressed set of clothes is worth it to me. I slide off my wet shirt and take a step away from

the vehicle to toss it in a trash can near a lamppost when I hear her voice. It’s Violet, and she’s upset. I look down the street and see that piece of scum pedophile that I threw out of the bar earlier pawing at her like a fucking animal. Goddamn, this guy doesn’t learn. The rage that builds in my chest is so powerful, even I worry for this creep’s life. I storm down the sidewalk and take him by surprise, snatching him up by the back of his collar. “Hey, what the fuck, man?” he yells. “You’re not very smart, are you?” He stops struggling at the sound of my voice. “Dude, you’re choking me,” he says, raspy and oxygen deprived. “You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing,” I say through my teeth. I catch a glimpse of Violet in my peripheral vision and notice her terrified expression. It’s funny that her fear of me killing this asshole is the very thing that saves his life. “Major, please, just let him go,” she says. She

appeals to the tiny sliver of sanity that I have left, and I release him and step protectively in front of her. “I’ve allowed you to live twice today, you piece of shit, and that’s more compassion than any man with your morals has ever received from me. If you value your life at all, you’ll leave right now. RUN!” I yell. He jumps at the sound of my voice and trips trying to turn around. The little weasel is quick, though. I’ll give him that. He scrambles to his feet and takes off down the street. Blood boiling and adrenaline flowing freely, I almost forget Violet is standing behind me until I feel her cool hand on my bare shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asks in a soft, steady tone like the one psychiatrists use with their craziest patients. I turn, and she drags her hand around my bicep as I do so. “Am I okay? Are you okay? I threw that imbecile

out earlier for doing the same thing to a little girl. He’s lucky I didn’t smash his face in.” “A little girl, really? That’s horrible.” She shivers and shakes her head in disbelief. Her hand drops from my arm, and I instantly miss the warmth and pressure of it. “Come with me. I need a shirt,” I say, taking her hand and leading her to the rear of my open SUV. “Why are you out here anyway?” I ask. “I—I’m not really sure.” She stares at the hatch door that’s standing open and then at the custom dresser, but I don’t think she’s really seeing anything. She’s still in shock. I take a shirt from the drawer and cringe at the thought of putting something on that hasn’t been freshly pressed. I slide my arms in and button up quickly so I can get her back inside. “You … left your car open,” she says, sounding a little dazed and confused.

“Yes, I had to. You were in trouble.” “And you have a . . . built-in dresser in there?” she asks, nodding toward my vehicle. “Yes, I do. Are you sure you’re okay, Violet?” “Yeah, that’s just really . . . weird.” She waves her finger in a circle in the air toward my dresser. “Not really. I told you I carry extra clothes in case of an emergency.” “If you have enough emergencies to require a builtin dresser in your trunk, then you have too many emergencies,” she says with her hand on her hip. Her sexy sassiness is back. She must be over the shock. A couple walks by, watching me button my shirt and listening to Violet scold me. Violet notices she’s lost my attention and turns to see what I’m looking at. “Good evening,” she says in a sweet voice, and the couple looks away, embarrassed to be caught

staring. Sassy and saucy. I love it. “Aren’t you shaken up by that creep?” I ask when she turns her attention back to me. “No, should I be?” “Yes. He could have attacked you.” “Major Steele, my daddy was a Marine, and so is my brother. Believe me, they taught me to grab balls and scream. I was more afraid you were going to kill him.” “You’re from a military family?” “A Marine family, yes.” “So you didn’t need me back there?” I say, closing the back of the SUV and pressing the lock on my key fob. “Oh, I appreciate the help. He was nasty. I didn’t want to have to squeeze his nuts off, but I would have if you hadn’t been here.”

I laugh when I realize she’s not a damsel in distress. Damn it. “Well, I’m happy I was of assistance to you then. I’m sorry I almost killed a man in front of you, though,” I say with a wink. “Apology accepted.” “So why did you really come outside?” She looks away from me, but I catch her hand and stop walking. “What is it?” “I wanted to see if you were leaving.” She chews on the inside of her cheek and pretends to watch a car going by. “Why would I leave?” She shrugs and continues to avoid eye contact. I don’t want to push it, so I let it drop. “I’m not leaving. I told you, I’m a man of my word.

Now come on, let’s go inside.” I let go of her hand and slide my arm around her shoulders, pulling her into my side. She fits perfectly tucked under my arm, and she feels good there as we walk back into the restaurant. When we return, our drinks are waiting on the bar and she makes no attempt to leave with them. If she’s here on a date, I pity the man who orders a red velvet martini and allows a woman like this out of his sight. She’s got to be here with girlfriends. “I’ll help you with your drinks,” I say, scooping up the martinis. “Oh, that’s not necessary. I can make it on my own as long as no wild dancers butt in front of me and knock them out of my hands again.” She smiles a sly smile, and I bite my tongue to keep from arguing with her about it. She obviously ran into us. We were on the dance floor dancing, which is what you do on a dance floor. She was cutting

across to save a few steps, plain and simple. “Which way?” I ask, holding up the drinks. She hitches her thumb to the right. “It was nice to meet you both,” she says to Davis and Garcia. “Likewise,” both men reply, nodding their heads. She slides past me to get out of the tight corner space and brushes her round ass against my cock. I swear, I see the hint of a smile on her lips. I’m going to enjoy wiping that smile off her pretty face later when she’s screaming my name under me in a sweaty mess of tangled sheets.

CHAPTER 4

VIOLET

Color Coded I allowed this stubborn man remove my shirt and touch me. Did somebody drop me on my head when I was a baby? I mean, the attraction is undeniable, but still, that’s not how one-night stands go. If that’s what this is. What is this, anyway? And coming to my rescue outside—very gallant but very unnecessary. I can handle myself. It was cute, though, and worth it to see him without a

shirt. Now we’re even. It’s strange that we would bump into each other— literally—twice in the same day. And Mom was right about him being a Marine and being hot. This Major is incredibly self-confident. There is no question about who is in control when I’m around him. He oozes sex appeal with his lean muscles and his tanned, clean-shaven square jaw. His tight ass isn’t hard to look at either. In fact, I have half a notion to point him in the wrong direction so he takes the long route to our table, but I don’t. Why is that? Major Steele could be the guy on the Marine posters that say The Few. The Proud. The Marines. When he’s almost to the wedding party’s table, I tap him on the shoulder and point to my large group of friends and family. “Hey, Vie! We were getting ready to send out a rescue party,” Mattie yells, and then he adds, “Who

is your friend?” “This is Major Steele. We had a little run-in on the dance floor and he insisted on helping me carry my drinks. “Again? That’s not a coincidence. That’s fate, you two,” Mom calls from the end of the table. Taye stands up and offers his hand to Major when I introduce him as Major Steele. “It’s nice to meet you, Major Steele, sir.” Sawyer shakes his hand, and the other Marines in the group follow suit until everyone has been properly greeted. “So you two have met before?” Taye asks after offering the Major a seat. “We found each other at Target this afternoon,” Major says, emphasizing the word found. “He ran into me and made me drop all my stuff,” I say as we sit down next to each other. I wait for

him to take the bait, but he surprises me with an apology instead. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Sorry about that.” “He’s just being nice. Vie ran smack into him in the aisle, and her razors and soap went flying all over the place,” Mom yells. She’s drunk. I’m thinking someone should cut her off, but unfortunately, I’ve just brought her another red velvet martini, so scratch that idea. I hope I won’t be holding her hair later while she hurls into the hotel toilet. The waitress appears out of nowhere and takes orders for another round of drinks. When she returns, she addresses Major as Major Steele and adjusts his glass in a very specific location, two inches above the tips of his fingers and to the right. It’s clear they have an unspoken communication going on when she places the glass down and she indiscreetly looks back and forth between the glass and Major several times until he nods. I guess she got it right. How unusual.

“Your organizational skills didn’t go unnoticed, by the way. I don’t know how you categorized and color-coded my things in two seconds,” I say. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” Major Steele places his hand on my knee under the table, and I am genuinely embarrassed at how fast I uncross my legs and allow him to slide his rough palm further up my thigh. My insides started buzzing the second we collided on the dance floor. And then in the bathroom, he set my skin on fire when he touched me. Now he’s playing with my mind, being polite and sweet while turning on a hot faucet between my legs under the table. I try to follow along with the different conversations. I even throw a word or two in once in a while when it seems appropriate, but my thoughts are completely focused on his hand between my legs. His fingers caress the inside of my thigh, his thumb moving lazily back and forth

across my skin—all of it has me in a trance. I hear Taye’s voice ask a question, but I don’t know whom it’s directed to or exactly what he’s said until all eyes are on me. “I’m sorry, Taye, what did you ask?” He chuckles and Major smiles. He knows I can’t answer, because his fingers just got dangerously close to my damp panties and I have my hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from going any further. He has me so turned on, it wouldn’t take much to make me come right here at the table. “I asked if you were going to bring Major Steele to the wedding as your date. You two really seem to like each other,” he says, shifting his eyes to my lap and back to mine so quickly no one else would have noticed . . . no one but Major, and he’s loving this. “Oh, well uh . . . I don’t know. We just met and all. He probably doesn’t want to go to a wedding where he doesn’t know anybody, including the

bride and groom.” “Not true. He’s a Marine. We’re family, and it’s a military wedding. I’m sure he knows a lot of people who will be there.” Taye smiles triumphantly and everybody at the table agrees with him. I’m basically obligated to ask him to the wedding now. I slide his hand off my lap and lace my fingers through his to keep him from moving it back. When I turn to ask him to the wedding, the look on his face is smug. I wouldn’t be surprised if a feather came floating from his lips. This man looks like the cat that ate the canary. “Would you like to accompany me to my brother’s best friend’s wedding this upcoming Saturday?” I ask with sugary sweetness. “I would love to,” he answers, and the table erupts into a chorus of whoops and hollers. He leans close to me, nuzzling into my hair, and says, “They love me.”

Cocky bastard.

CHAPTER 5

MAJOR

Brick Walls I’m not sure why I just agreed to go to a wedding with a woman I hardly know. This was supposed to be a hot night of string-free sex, and now I’ve purposely tied a string to Violet. I like her. I like her a lot, and that concerns me. Going to a family function is usually a sixth or seventh date kind of event, and we haven’t even had a first. Not to mention that I don’t date anymore. I have sex with

women and that’s it. I don’t want anything permanent, and as soon as Violet gets to know me, she won’t either. I could have easily said no. I could have used the excuse that she claimed I would, but I didn’t want to. We haven’t slept together, but I know it’s going to be nothing short of spectacular. Just having my hand between her warm, soft legs has me on edge. There is but a thin thread of control keeping me from throwing this ravishing beauty over my shoulder and dragging her to the nearest hotel. These people are all chatting about golf and rehearsals and telling stories about their childhood, and I’m trying to pay attention, but like my cock straining against my zipper, it’s hard. The further my hand creeps up her thigh, the more I think of how it’s going to feel when I slide inside of her hot, wet pussy. I want to hear her moan when I push in deep. I want to taste every inch of her inside and out. Every dip and curve of her sexy body needs exploring.

Fuck, we need to get out of here. Sadly, she moved my hand away from the hot spot I was about to tease when her family and friends were focused on us. Now that they’ve paired us up, they’ve gone back to drinking and talking about the upcoming week of wedding events. It’s the perfect time for us to slip out. “Violet?” I whisper in her ear, interrupting her conversation with a loud, entertaining woman across the table. When she looks at me, I know it’s not going to take any convincing to get her out of here. She has bedroom eyes, the eyes that say I’m ready. I want you to take me home. Home—I don’t take women home, but something about this woman makes me want her in familiar surroundings. Hotels are naked, unemotional cubicles meant for something temporary, something disposable. I’ve known Violet for all of an hour, but she doesn’t feel temporary or disposable. She feels comfortable and lasting. “We need to leave,” I say, and she simply nods her

head. I start to scoot out of the booth, but she squeezes and releases my hand. When I look back, she’s texting. Hopefully, she’s telling someone she’s leaving and won’t be back. When she’s finished, we slide out of the booth and she tells the group we are going to dance. We are going to dance—just not vertically and not here. Just outside, she pauses and I feel tension rolling off her in waves. Right here, with the smell of the ocean thick in the air and the dark night folding in on us, I know it’s do or die time. I take her hand and lead her around the corner to a short alley and back her against the brick wall of the restaurant. I place my hands on either side of her head against the wall and cage her in. Her breath hitches, and I move in to cover her mouth with mine. She’s not leaving me. There will be no changing of minds. I’ll fix her with a voodoo spell if I have to, but I know I won’t. When my mouth touches hers, I kiss her once softly before sliding my tongue out and along her bottom lip. She tastes like cake and alcohol. Red velvet

martinis are fast becoming my favorite drink. Her skin smells of lavender—not the perfumed sort of lavender, but pure lavender like essential oils. Now there’s a thought. Oils. Her hands have been pressed against the wall, but now she’s untucking my freshly changed shirt. I press my tongue against her soft, full lips and she allows me in. Our tongues dance and tangle until we’re out of breath. Our mouths open, but our lips never separate. Gasping and panting, her hands find their way into my shirt and up my back, pulling me against her body. Threading one hand into her hair behind her neck and the other down to the small of her back, I pull her against my solid cock and grind it into her abdomen. She gasps and dives back into our mind-numbing kiss, her nails digging into my back as I rhythmically push against her until I slide my hand down and pull her leg up around my waist so my cock is flush against her apex. She surprises me by bracing herself against the wall and lifting her other leg to circle my waist.

Her skirt is hiked up, and the only things separating us now are the thin material of her panties and the zipper of my pants. I pull away to look at her so she knows how fucking turned on that last little move made me, and I’m disarmed by her eager, flushed face. She’s so open and free. She hides nothing and offers everything. Her body and her emotions are exposed in such a rare way that it almost makes me feel guilty for wanting her . . . almost. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Violet. I think I’ve found my new favorite thing.” One corner of her mouth lifts in a tiny smirk and I kiss her again, deeper, longer, and with more passion than I’ve felt in years. I slide my hand from the back of her knee to underneath her skirt and between our heated bodies and find her soaking wet for me. “Fuck,” I moan between kisses. She inhales sharply when I push the strip of material aside and slip two long fingers inside her.

“I wanted to do this at the table earlier,” I say against her lips. “I almost let you,” she says, panting. I pull out and drag the slickness of her arousal forward to circle her clit, and she closes her eyes and throws her head back against the wall. “Look at me, Violet.” She immediately tips her head forward, opening her eyes. Holding her gaze, I continue to dip and slide my fingers around her clit while I watch her facial expressions transform from borderline control to wildly frantic. She presses the back of her head against the bricks, shaking it back and forth. She’s close. This isn’t the way I imagined making her come for the first time. I can’t help but give it to her though. She’s so erotic, so uninhibited. Outside a restaurant, against this wall, in a very public area where anyone could happen upon us, I plunge my fingers deep and curl them around to

stroke the front of her wall while circling her clit with my thumb. I watch as this beautiful creature comes undone in my arms. She never breaks eye contact with me. She doesn’t throw her head back and make that ugly face that so many women do. Watching Violet come is like beautiful art. Her hands fly to the sides of my head, and she presses her forehead against mine. Her mouth opens in a stiff O, and when she releases, there is no sound until it’s almost over, and even then, only a soft moan escapes her lips. Perfection. God, I want to see her do that a million times. I want to video it so I can watch it over and over when we aren’t together. They say some drugs are addictive after the first hit. Watching Violet come is instantly addictive. I need to get her underneath me, on top of me, on her knees in front of me. I’ve never needed to be inside a woman more.

CHAPTER 6

VIOLET

One-Morning-Stand The relief of my orgasm is so great that I collapse in the Major’s arms. If it weren’t for his quick reflexes, I’d be on the ground right now, melting into a puddle of post-orgasmic glop. This man is talented, as in majorly talented—pun absolutely intended. “I’ve never seen anything so erotic. You are indeed a tribute to the flower you’re named for,” he says

in a low, gravelly tone that makes my toes curl. I wilt against the wall, and he slides his hand out from between us and under my ass to support me more comfortably. “No one’s ever said that to me before.” His blue eyes burn with desire when he responds. “Maybe no one has ever brought it out in you properly. Actually, I like that, being the first to see Violet bloom. You’re a wildflower, violet—free, open, abandoned, liberated. When you came, I saw every emotion on your face as if you were communicating on some other level. It was beautiful. So beautiful, I’d like to see it again. Come home with me.” I release my legs from his waist and attempt to stand on my own but initially fail. He supports me like he would never let me fall under any circumstances. It takes me a few seconds, but when I have my strength back, I stand and look past him over his shoulder.

I’m not one to keep things bottled up. I’m a good communicator, and I suspect the Major is as well, or he wouldn’t have shared his feelings so openly just now. I want nothing more than to go home with this man, but I need to be smart about this. I really don’t know a thing about him. He says he’s a Marine, but what proof do I have? He seems normal enough, and I was totally looking for a onenight stand this week, but whatever’s going on between us doesn’t feel one-night stand-ish. It feels like the base of a lasting relationship, and I’m done with those—or at least I thought I was. He moves his head into my line of sight. “You’re hesitating. Why?” I blink and wonder that myself. “I don’t know. I want to say something, but I don’t want to freak you out or upset you.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m a United States Marine, Violet. It’s not easy to freak me out or upset me. Say what you need to say, always.”

I’m still hesitating, and I can’t place my finger on why. “Okay, I’ll go first. Maybe that will help. I know we have only known each other for a few hours, but I like you. I would be honored if you agreed to come home with me tonight.” Honored. Wow, you don’t hear that every day. Hell, I’ve never been told that. Maybe I should go with my instincts on this one. Could my jerk magnet be demagnetized? Anything’s possible, right? Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Vie, and you’ll end up with a pulverized heart and a bucket of tears. “Your turn,” he says, gently taking ahold of my chin and tipping my face up to his. “I’m scared.” I blurt it out like word vomit. Hey, it’s communicating at least. “What are you afraid of?” “I don’t know you. Not really, anyway. And this

feels . . . different.” “Different how?” “Like . . . like it could be something.” He chuckles. “Is that all?” “Yes, that’s all. Well, it’s not. I quit having relationships. I suck at them, so I stick to one-night stands.” His left eyebrow arches high and his half-smile fades. “I have to agree with your assessment. I too feel like this is more than just fucking, but if it’s a onenight stand you want, let’s start with that, shall we?” “How do I know you’re not the next David Berkowitz or Jeffery Dahmer?” As insulting as my question is, it still makes him laugh.

“You would have very bad instincts, then, I guess. I suppose you want to see my military ID to prove I’m really Marine too, huh?” He’s joking, but I don’t laugh and his face falls. “Really? You want to see it?” he asks. I nod and bite my lip, suddenly feeling guilty for needing proof. He doesn’t balk, though. He slides his wallet from his back pocket and produces his ID. I should just glance at it and leave it at that, but I can’t. I feel dumb. I mean, I let this man put his mouth on mine and his hand in my panties, but I’m looking at his ID to be sure he is who he says he is. I tilt it back and forth, looking for the little details I know an authentic ID should have. My father, brother and many of his friends are Marines, so I know what I’m looking for. While I’m looking at the card, he brushes a loose curl from my cheek behind my ear and I lift my eyes to his. Marines are typically difficult to read. If they don’t want you to

know what they are thinking, you won’t know. So when I see disappointment in his eyes, I can be assured he is disappointed in my lack of trust. I slowly hand him back the ID, and he replaces it in his wallet. “Now that we have determined that I am indeed not Jeffery Dahmer and that I am indeed a United States Marine, can we go?” “Yeah, we can go . . . wait, where are we going?” “My house. I live close by.” “Sorry about the ID thing.” “Don’t be. I’m glad you’re a smart girl. It’s not safe to let a stranger touch you in an alley outside a restaurant, of course, but this once, I’m glad you did. And I don’t expect you to do anything like that ever again. Unless it’s with me, and in that case, I won’t be a stranger, because we’re friends now.” “We are?”

“Yes, we are. Now come on. My car’s down the street.” He takes ahold my hand and tugs me off the wall. He leads me out of the alley onto the sidewalk. There are more people strolling up and down the street now that it’s past the dinner hour. I’m glad we weren’t caught messing around in the alley by an innocent person passing by. I like the possibility of being caught making out in public. Just the thought, though, not the actual getting caught part. I was so wrapped up in the moment that I didn’t get to experience the thrill, but I have a feeling there will be a next time. At least, I hope there will be. We stop next to his white Lexus SUV and he points his key fob at the door and opens it like a perfect gentleman—or a perfect Marine. They are interchangeable, in my opinion. My experiences with Marines have all been good ones. My dad set the bar so high that I think that’s why I’m a jerk magnet. There has never been

anyone who even remotely came close to living up to my dad’s expectations, so I lowered mine exponentially. Major Steele is the first man to come close to proving his worth, and he’s done it in less than twenty-four hours. Impressive. The drive isn’t far, only twenty-five minutes or so, but the alcohol in my system is beginning to wane and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open. Major is quiet—too quiet—and the music is turned down low, making me even sleepier. “Can I turn this up?” I ask. “Yeah, sure.” I turn it up, and it’s set to an old school country station playing a twangy, sleepy song. I switch the channel to a more upbeat, pop channel to keep me awake. Selena Gomez starts to sing about keeping her hands to herself. I chuckle and hum along. “So you’re here for a wedding?” he asks, striking up a casual conversation.

“Yes, my brother, Taye’s, best friend, Mattie, is getting married. We grew up together, so he’s like family.” “And they’re both Marines?” “Yea, my dad too.” “Did he retire?” “He was seventy years old, twenty years older than my mom. He died three years ago, but yes, he retired a long time ago. He was a Major General,” I say with pride. “Major General, huh? What was his name?” “Lamar Washington.” His brows shoot up, and I’m not surprised. My dad was well known and respected. He may have retired a long time ago, but he was always involved in the Corps. “Your father was Major General Lamar Washington?”

“Yep, the one and only.” He murmurs under his breath, and I barely make out what he says, but I’m pretty sure it was something like good thing he’s not around or I wouldn’t be taking you home. “Did you just say you wouldn’t take me home if he weren’t dead?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “Yes. Yes, I did. Your father wasn’t a man to cross. I’m pretty sure he’d have a few million things to say about me dating his daughter.” “You knew him?” “I met him once, but for the most part, I only knew of him. He was a great Marine, but great Marines are protective of their daughters—very protective. I’m not saying I’m glad your father is dead, just that I’m grateful I don’t have to pass his inspection.” “I think he would have approved.” “That’s quite a compliment.”

“You’re welcome.” “So do you live near Oceanside?” he asks. “San Diego.” His expression changes microscopically when he learns that I’m not from Oceanside, but only for a moment. It was such a quick transition that I can’t tell if that was good or bad news to him. “How do you feel about that?” I ask, forgetting that not everyone is as forward and blunt as I am. “How do I feel?” he says, glancing in my direction. “Yes, are you glad I’m forty-five minutes away or disappointed?” “You’re pretty forward, aren’t you?” “This coming from the man who took my blouse off without asking first?” “It needed washing.” “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

“Well it did, and for the record, I’m disappointed you’re not local.” “Why?” “Because we’re friends now, and I like to spend time with my friends.” “Oh yes, that’s right. I almost forgot. So, friend, what do you do for fun?” “I don’t have much time for fun, but I play golf.” “You do? So do I. My dad taught me to play. Do you play on the base?” “Mostly yes, but like I said, I don’t have much spare time.” “But you’ll find time to come to my brother’s best friend’s wedding?” “I will so I can see you again.” I smile at his honesty. He doesn’t play games either. That’s good.

“What do you do in San Diego?” “I’m a computer software developer for Facebook.” “A computer geek, huh? I would have never guessed. Do you have an ID? You know, to prove you’re really a computer designer for Facebook?” He never looks directly at me, and I’m pretty sure he’s holding back a smile. “Touché, Major.” “No, I’m serious. Hand it over. I need to see some form of identification so I know you’re not some black widow looking for her next victim.” I roll my eyes and sigh when I slip my work ID card and my driver’s license out of my phone case. He tilts and turns them carefully, the way I did his earlier, until I snatch them away. “Point taken, smarty pants,” I say. He laughs, and I notice tiny wrinkles on the corners of his eyes. Men age well. I don’t think I look too

young for him, though, but I’m asking. “How old are you, Major?” “How old do you think I am?” “Well, you have to have been in the marines ten to fifteen years to reach your rank, so I’d say thirtyfive.” “Oh, I’m wounded,” he yells, holding his hand over his chest. “Okay, thirty-two. Is that closer?” “Ding, ding, ding, give the lady a prize.” “Aren’t you going to ask me how old I am?” “Nope, saw it on your license. You’re twentyseven.” He turns off the main road onto a residential street and pulls into the driveway of a moderate-sized Mediterranean house. He presses the garage door opener and I watch the door rise, revealing the

cleanest, most organized garage I’ve ever seen. He pulls inside and closes the door behind us. “Wow.” He cuts the engine and looks at me with a question on his rugged, handsome face. “Wow, what?” I look out the window of the car at the garden and lawn tools that are perfectly aligned on hooks. Everything in his garage looks brand new. A workbench in the corner with a long pegboard holds what looks to be every tool ever invented, but it’s so . . . sterile. “You’re just super tidy,” I say, downplaying the perfection of his garage. “I like things a certain way.” “I see that.” “Stay. I’ll come around,” he says, opening his

door. I watch him walk around the front of the vehicle. He is damn near perfect himself. He’s physically fit, intelligent—or so I assume, since he’s a Major in the Marines. He couldn’t have gotten that rank with an empty head. He’s successful, so he doesn’t lack motivation or drive. He’s educated, and so far, he’s kind. I could do a lot worse on a one-night-stand, that’s for sure . . . and I have. He opens my door, and I slide down out of my seat. He takes my hand to steady me. It’s a big step, even in heels. “You’re a little thing, aren’t you? How tall are you anyway?” I straighten up taller and hold my head high. “I’m five foot one and a half,” I say with pride. “And a half, huh? You may as well claim that halfinch.” “Okay then, five foot two. I like that better

anyway.” “Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll fix you a drink. I’m afraid I don’t know the ingredients for a Red Velvet Martini, but I can get you some wine.” “Wine is good. The martinis are my mother’s drink, not mine.” He opens the door that connects the house to the garage and immediately toes off his shoes and places them on a rubber matt. I don’t want to track anything in. If his house is anything like his garage, nothing goes unnoticed, so I follow suit. At the end of a long hall is a kitchen. When he reaches it, he flips on the lights. It’s beautiful—not exactly my style, but still nice—and clean. I lean against a large island, feeling much shorter without my heels, and watch him move around the kitchen. He works on pouring us two glasses of a blush wine while I look around. The rooms flow one into another, starting with the kitchen flowing into the dining area with French doors that open out to a

deck. The living room is next, facing the front of the house. All the spaces are sparsely furnished. The essentials are here—table with four chairs, a couch, coffee table and a television mounted on the wall—but no personal touches, no knickknacks or photographs. Nothing, just bare, unlived in looking space. “Did you decorate yourself?” I ask. He turns and sets the wine glasses on the counter next to me and surprises me by lifting me onto the counter in front of him. “It was hurting my neck to look so far down at you,” he says with a half-grin. I punch his rippled abdomen and wince when it hurts my knuckles. He tilts his head to the side and looks at me with a twinkle of ornery and a dash of sympathy. The wine glasses seem to catch his eye, and he reaches out to adjust them on the counter. They don’t look to be in a different position, but he appears satisfied.

“I remodeled the house a few years ago. I was going for simple and understated.” I twist to look at the living room again. “Well, I think you accomplished that.” “You don’t like it?” he says, pulling me to the edge of the counter and pushing up my skirt to nestle in between my legs. I’m tempted to lie and tell him it’s lovely so he’ll just kiss me, but as usual, I say what’s on my mind. “It’s very impersonal. I can’t learn anything about you looking around this room.” “That’s right.” “You don’t want people to know you?” “People know what I want them to know and that’s all.” “Why?” “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You avoid a lot of questions.” His hands are traveling up and down my back in a hypnotizing pattern, and it’s very distracting, but I try to keep focused on the question at hand . . . which was what again? I groan and remove his hands from my back and hold them between us. He sighs and backs away from me a step. “Violet, I don’t invite people into my life because I don’t want to complicate it. I don’t bring people into my home because I can’t stand to see them mess it up. I like order and neatness in all aspects of my life.” I cross my arms over my chest, unconsciously protecting myself. His desire for neatness extends far past his immediate environment. It’s deep, personal, intimate. I am not that kind of person. I don’t live my life in a little box where everything is ship-shape and orderly all the time. What am I doing here? This is ridiculous. Coming home with this tempting man seemed like the best

idea I’d ever had an hour ago. But seeing his blank slate of a life is ebbing my enthusiasm more and more by the minute. I hop down off the counter onto the cold Spanish tile. I don’t know where I think I’m going. I didn’t drive here. I’ll call a cab. Major reaches out to stop me. “Violet, what’s wrong?” I turn and look into this gorgeous, complicated man’s endless blue eyes and see honest confusion. He doesn’t even know that what he just said is a depressing turn off. “Major, I don’t think I belong here. I’m confused. I wasn’t looking for anything more than a one-night stand, but something makes me want to know more about you. I’m supposed to be having drinks, playing golf, and going to bachelorette parties, not deluding myself with thoughts of and hearts and rainbows. But something made me want to come here, and now I see what a mistake that was. I’m a

free-spirited dreamer, and you’re a disciplined Marine, and I have absolutely no idea what the hell I’m trying to say. I’m sorry. I need to go.” He pulls me into his arms and presses my cheek against his chest. “You’ve misunderstood me. I didn’t mean that I don’t want you here—on the contrary. I don’t bring women to my house, but I brought you. In fact, I’m a strict believer in one-night stands in hotel rooms where there are no connections, no expectations . . . but I want you here in my house with me.” Being pressed against him makes his scent intense and intoxicating. I close my eyes to try and sort out my thoughts. He moves my head back, placing his hands on either side of my face, and I open my eyes. “I want you here. I don’t know what will come of it, if anything, but I brought you here instead of a hotel for a reason.”

“What reason?” He caresses my cheeks with his thumbs while looking back and forth between my eyes like he’s trying to find something there. “I don’t know, but I don’t want you to leave.” I cuff his wrists with my small hands on both sides of my head. “Then tell me something about yourself that you don’t tell people.” He blinks, and it seems like time stops for a moment before he speaks. “I was adopted. There. No one but the Marine Corps knows that about me.” Okay, wow. I thought he’d tell me his favorite color or football team, but he’s taken it to a whole different level. “Now you,” he says, lifting me back onto the counter and handing me my glass of wine.

“I sleepwalk.” He tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Lots of people sleepwalk.” “Lots of people are adopted.” “True. Is this sleepwalking something you do often?” “I’m not really sure. You see, I’m asleep when I do it.” “Watch it there, Target girl.” I smile at the dumb nickname. “I find things in places they shouldn’t be all the time. Like I put my brush on the counter in the bathroom when I go to bed, and it’s in the kitchen sink when I wake up—things like that.” We are close to each other. He has his hands on my thighs, and he’s standing between them. He takes a drink of wine while he unconsciously rubs his

thumb back and forth over my bare skin. When I tell him about my mysterious brush story he cringes —like, he actually cringes—and a little shiver runs through his body. “Have you ever left the house?” he asks. “That you know of, I mean.” I chuckle. “Yes, I have, on several occasions.” I avert my eyes to a tall vase in the corner filled with long sticks that look like pussy willows. It’s one of the few decorative pieces in his house, and I find it strange that of all things to choose, he would choose pussy willows. “On foot?” “Yes, and once in my car.” He leans back and takes ahold of my chin to bring my gaze back to his eyes. He’s worried, I think, or anxious. “Violet, that’s serious. Have you seen a doctor about it?”

Only my closest friends and family know about my sleepwalking. It’s something I’ve always been self-conscious about. I don’t tell people for this exact reason. They worry, and there isn’t much that can be done about it. “Yes, I’m a rare case. I’ve been studied a lot. People usually grow out of it when they’re teenagers, but I haven’t. I just have to be careful, you know—lock up my car keys, special locks on my windows and doors, stuff like that.” He still looks worried, and I find it odd that a stranger seems to care so much about my idiosyncrasies. “Do you know your birth parents?” He shakes his head. “Oh no, we aren’t done talking about you yet. Where did you drive to?” “The last time, I drove to the beach. I woke up in the middle of the night in the sand. My feet were wet, so we weren’t sure if I’d been walking in the water.”

“How long ago was that?” “Six months ago. I lock my keys in a safe when I go to bed at night now.” “What if you remember the combination in your sleep?” “I haven’t.” “But you might.” “Don’t worry, Major. I won’t sleep drive up to Oceanside to see you in the middle of the night.” “I’d much rather you stick to awake driving to Oceanside to see me in the middle of the night.” I smile and take a drink of wine. “I don’t know my birth parents.” “So a sleepwalker and an adoptee. Interesting pair we are, huh?” I say. “Tell me something else. It doesn’t have to be something people don’t know, just something I

don’t know . . . which is anything, I guess.” “I love tacos, I play golf, and I love social media,” I say with pride, sitting up a little straighter. “Tacos are messy, I enjoy golf, and I am not a part of social media.” “You don’t do messy well, do you, Major?” He looks around the pristine, sterile clean house and then back at me. “No, I don’t do messy well at all.” I yawn and cover my mouth, internally groaning. I don’t want him to think I’m uninterested or tired, but truth is, I am tired. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night on the kitchen floor a lot lately, and it’s a little unnerving. I make light of my sleepwalking, but it can be very dangerous living alone and wandering around at night. I should just put a pillow and blanket down on the kitchen floor so I can roll over and go back to sleep when I wake up there. If it were only that

easy. Instead, I end up staying awake for the rest of the night no matter what time I find myself there. “You’re tired.” I wave my hand at him dismissively. “No, no, I’m fine.” But my body betrays me, and I try like hell to suppress another yawn. He rolls his eyes and takes the wine glass from my hand. He sets it on the island, and before I know what he’s doing, he has scooped me up in his arms and we are moving across his neutral, uninspiring living room toward the staircase. Halfway up, he glances down at me with warm, lazy eyes, and the corner of his mouth twitches with the hint of a smile. “Where are you taking me, Major Steele?” I ask. “To bed, Ms. Washington.” I lay my head against his chest and my pulse quickens. I’m far from tired now. “How do you know my last name anyway?”

He shakes his head. “Driver’s license?” “Oh yes.” We reach the top of the stairs, and he proceeds down the hall to an open door at the end—his bedroom. Moving through the dark with ease, he strides straight to the bed and places me on my feet. My feet, not on my back on the bed where I want to be. I can’t see at first, but my eyes quickly adjust to the dark. I watch an outline of Major as he removes each decorative pillow and places them on a chair on the far side of the bed. He pulls back the comforter by one corner, creating a perfect, inviting triangle. When he’s finished fussing with the bed, he silently stands in front of me. Barely touching me, he brushes his lips against my cheek and a shiver flows through my body. He smiles and drags his nose down my neck. I drop my head back to offer him easier access, and he glides along the curve of

my throat and down to the tiny space between my collarbone and my neck. He kisses this spot as if he already knows it’s the start button to my engine, and I moan in appreciation. His hands are still not on me when I reach for him. I’m confused when he takes ahold of my wrists and places them back at my sides and begins to unbutton my shirt. When he’s finished slowly opening my shirt, he slides if off my shoulders and lays it on the bed. His hands are on my shoulders, turning me away from him, I hold my breath and close my eyes. Slowly, he pulls the thin zipper on the back of my skirt down, down, down, until it slides off my hips and onto the floor around my feet with a soft whoosh. He is quiet. The only sounds in the room are our breathing and the ticking of a clock near the bedside table. A ticking clock? Why doesn’t he have a digital clock that glows in the dark so he can always see the time? That fleeting thought is gone in a puff of smoke

when his fingers return to my shoulders and begin descending down my arms. He leaves a smoldering trail in their wake, settling on my bare hips. His hands almost circle my whole body. He is very big, or I am just very small. Either way, he holds all the control. He leans closer to me, and I feel his warm breath against my ear before he speaks. “I’m putting you to bed,” he whispers. Putting me to bed? I sure hope he means he’s taking me to bed. I straighten my spine and turn my head to the side to clarify. “You mean you’re taking me to bed.” “No,” he says, turning me around to face him. He points at the open spot he’s created in the bed. “In you go.” His words are ones I’d use when tucking a young child into bed, but the tone he speaks them in is commanding and assertive.

Without thinking, I stick out my bottom lip and frown. I’m disappointed. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to get into bed unless it’s to be worshiped by this man. “Don’t pout, sleep.” “I can’t sleep here. My mother is back at the hotel. She’ll be worried sick, and . . . and . . .” I stammer and wonder what part of my having a sleepwalking problem he didn’t understand earlier. “I don’t sleep well away from home,” I say. That’s really only a half-truth, because I don’t sleep well anywhere, ever. “You will sleep fine, trust me. And you can call your mother and tell her you’re having a sleepover at the Major’s house.” He tweaks my nose and gently shoves me into bed. A sleepover? What the hell? I’m not calling to check in with my mother to tell her I’m spending the night with Major. She would have an absolute stroke. I’d never hear the end of it. All week long, it would be, so Vie, how

was it with the Major? How big is his cock? When’s the wedding? How big do you think the diamond will be? Are you going to make a grandma out of me? No way, uh uh. He’s across the room now, draping my shirt over the back of a rounded back chair. He’s scooped up my skirt and already has it folded and placed on the seat. Meticulously. I’m beginning to wonder if his neatness is a result of the military or if the military is a necessity for his neatness. Most men come out of boot camp knowing how to keep their clothes clean and pressed and their belongings well organized. But Major is a little more than just neat and tidy. He’s obsessive. “Do you need your phone to call your mother? I can go downstairs and get it for you,” he says, ambling back to the side of the bed where I am still sitting on the edge with my feet on the floor. I’m

halfway between spending the night and grabbing a cab back to the hotel. This is weird. How the hell did a one-night stand turn into a pajama party . . . with no pajamas? I need to make a decision. If I stay, maybe I can seduce him, he did say he was going to sleep with me, after all. It’s worth a try. “Yes, I need my phone,” I say, swinging my feet into bed and pulling up the comforter. I bend my knees and hug them while he leaves to go downstairs and retrieve my phone. Now I have to think of a lie to tell my mom. My eyes have totally adjusted to the dark, and for the first time, I take a look around. His lack of decorating is just as bad up here. The bed is huge and comfortable, but other than a night table and a chair, there’s nothing else in his room. I can make out three doors. All are closed, but I imagine one is the en-suite bathroom and one is a closet, with the last being the door that leads to the hallway where the Major just disappeared.

I need to be naked. If I’m going to seduce him, there can’t be a barrier between us under these sheets. Quickly, I shimmy out of my panties and unclasp my bra and work it off my shoulders. I can hear him coming up the stairs, so I stuff my underthings under the pillow behind me just as he opens the door. I feel busted, but he couldn’t have seen what I was just doing without x-ray vision to see through the walls. He returns to the bedside again and hands me my phone. It’s dark, but I can see his eyes roaming over my bare shoulders. He knows I’m naked. Good. I take the phone, trying to make eye contact with him, but it’s no use. It’s too dark. I pull up my mother on my contact list and press call still not knowing what my story is going to be. “Hello? Vie? Where are you? You disappeared from the bar with that hot Marine and I couldn’t

find you anywhere. I’m back at the hotel. Do you need me to come and get you somewhere?” “Hey, Mom, I’m sorry. I totally wasn’t thinking. I’m fine. We just decided to go for a drink somewhere quieter.” “Quieter.” “Yes, Mom, quieter.” “And more intimate? Like maybe back to his place?” she says, her voice rising an octave with each word. What should I say? What should I say? Fuck, why can’t I be a good liar? “Mother, I’m an adult and I’m on vacation. I don’t have to check in with you if I want to stay out past my bedtime,” I say lightly so her feelings aren’t hurt. She laughs, and I know I’ve blown my own cover by being defensive.

“All right, sweetie, go have fun with your Marine,” she says. “But Vie?” she says, more serious now. “Yes?” “Be careful. Tell him you sleepwalk and make sure you can’t drive off or hurt yourself.” “Thanks, Mom. I will, and I’ve already told him.” She gasps, and I imagine her hand covering her mouth and her eyes bulging out of her head. I don’t tell people I sleepwalk. She knows I think it’s weird and embarrassing. “I’ll make sure the doors are locked and his keys are hidden.” “Is he safe, Vie? I’m not sure if I like the idea of you staying the night with a stranger.” “We aren’t strangers anymore. We’ve been talking for hours.”

And kissing and grinding on one another, and coming harder than I have in my life. “Oh well, maybe you’ll get lucky and he will have some handcuffs. He can cuff you to the bed so you don’t wander off in your sleep,” she says, and I hear her clap her hands together with her great new idea. “Mo-ther, stop. You’re not into things like that, are you? Wait! Nevermind. I don’t want to know the answer to that question. Gross.” She’s really laughing now, like all out belly laughing. I have to sit and wait for her to get ahold of herself. “Okay, I won’t tell you, but if you get the chance, ask him if he has a pair.” “Ew, Mom, I’m hanging up. I’ll see you in the morning.” “Wait, wait, Vie. Tell me where you are just in case. Give me his address.”

“Just in case what?” “Never mind that, just give me his address.” I hold my hand over the phone to ask him, but he’s not standing there anymore. He’s so quiet, I didn’t hear him go into the bathroom, where I see a sliver of light coming from under the door. “Major?” I say, and he swings the door open right away. “Hmm?” he says, but I lose every thought in my head when I see him standing there in nothing but navy blue Calvin Klein boxers that are doing a marvelous job of showing off his pride and joy. I saw him shirtless earlier tonight on the street, but now, almost totally naked, he makes my mouth water and my brain scramble. He chuckles when he catches me speechless and strides to his side of the bed. He places his knee on the mattress and reaches out his hand for my phone that I am now holding frozen away from my face like a foreign object.

I hand it to him and watch as he leans back on his knee to speak with my mother about our sleepover. “Mrs. Washington, it’s nice to talk to you again. I’m sorry I stole your daughter while you’re on vacation. I promise to bring her back tomorrow.” I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I’d be willing to bet she’s flirting with him. “Of course, 544 98th Street. We aren’t far from your hotel.” 98th Street. Well, at least I know exactly where I am now. Thanks, Mom. Unless he’s giving her a fake address, in which case I am probably in big trouble. Mom says something, and he hands me the phone. “She gave me permission to keep you as long as I like,” he says with a wink and a smirk. “Mom?” “I’ll see you in the morning, Vie. I told him to keep

a close eye on you and to bring you back by ten a.m. so we won’t miss the bridal shower. Call me if you need anything, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she sings. “Goodnight, Mom.” “Night, baby.” The line goes dead, and I narrow my eyes at the Major sitting on the bed too far from me. “She didn’t say you could keep me.” He shrugs his shoulders in surrender. “Caught me. What else did she say?” “That I should ask if you have handcuffs and not to do anything she wouldn’t do—which is pretty much anything.” “I like your mother.” “I’ll bet you do.” “Lie down while I shut off the lights.”

He stands up and I lie down. I watch him lift the chair where my clothes are—or were—and carry it to the door. Where are my clothes? And what’s he doing with that . . . oh, now I see. He wedges the back of the chair under the doorknob. He thinks he’s keeping me safe, but if I’m going somewhere in my sleep, I’ll find a way. I’ve tried the barrier thing before myself. Doesn’t work. It’s a sweet gesture, though, so I don’t say anything. Then he walks to the windows and secures the locks on both of them. He turns out the light in the bathroom and slides into bed facing me. “I’ve got you all locked up.” “Now what are you going to do with me?” “I’m going to watch you sleep.” “All night?” “If I have to. Do I have to?” he asks. “I guess we’ll see. Your house is unfamiliar.

Maybe that will keep me in bed.” “I have a better idea.” “Oh yeah? What’s that?” He scoots closer under the soft sheets, and a whiff of fabric softener fills the warm air around us. He nudges my shoulder so that I’m lying on my back, breathless with renewed hope. Maybe he’s decided to keep me busy after all. One muscular arm slides under the pillow and the other slinks around my waist. He pulls me against him so that we are spooning, and my mind goes to every naughty place it’s ever been. My back curves along his front, our bodies fitting together perfectly. Instinctively, I press my ass against his solid cock. He has me caged in with his arms locked firmly around mine and his face is nuzzled into my neck. “You won’t be going anywhere now,” he says in a low growl. “I won’t go anywhere anyway if you just keep me occupied. I don’t sleepwalk unless I’m asleep,” I

say, wiggling against him. “You’re quite the temptress, but we are going to sleep for now. I happen to know exhaustion exacerbates sleepwalking. I had a private years ago who was prone to taking off on foot during the night. He had to be discharged because we couldn’t keep him in the barracks. He was always worse when he was sleep deprived.” Earlier he said sleep for now. I wonder if that means we can have our one-night-stand after our sleepover in the morning. A one-morning-stand. That’s a new one for me. I like it. “How about a compromise, Major?” He groans. “I should have seen this coming. What are we compromising?” “I’ll willingly try to go to sleep now if you promise to fuck me in the morning.” I feel a puff of air against my neck when he snorts at my frankness.

“Deal, now sleep.” I don’t know if I can sleep now. I have so much to look forward to in the morning. I’m too excited to think about sleeping. The minutes literally tick by. I can hear his clock next to my head, and it seems to tick even louder now. His regular breathing becomes deep and easy when he drifts off to sleep. I feel safe in his arms, and for the first time in forever, I’m not anxious about sleepwalking. I couldn’t squirm out of his grasp if I tried. I close my eyes and try to sync my breathing with his. Tick tock. Breathe in. Tick tock. Breathe out. My eyelids are heavy, and I feel myself drifting away with thoughts of what’s to come in the morning—pun intended.

CHAPTER 7

MAJOR

Oorah Marine Never in my life have I pretended to be sleeping until tonight. I figured Violet wouldn’t sleep unless she thought I was already out, so I stayed still and regulated my breathing. There are two reasons I will never close my eyes tonight . . . well three, really. Number one is blatantly obvious—the sexy as hell naked woman pressing her creamy soft mocha skin against my body and her ass up against

my cock. Number two is also not difficult to figure out—I don’t want her sleepwalking out the front door naked or falling down the stairs. Third is one that wouldn’t bother most people, but it’s making me crazy right now—the chair in my room does not belong lodged under the doorknob of my bedroom. It belongs exactly four o’clock from the head of my bed and turned to a thirty-degree angle. I can’t sleep until it’s in its place, which is a moot point because numbers one and two have me frozen in the bed. She smells exquisite, like lavender and vanilla. I turn my face into her hair and breathe deeply, taking her in, absorbing her, molding against her body. She is sheer perfection with her soft, round hip under the bend of my elbow and her toned legs tangled with mine. I sigh and settle in, relaxing against her for a long night of listening to my mother’s old clock tick in the dark. I try unsuccessfully to block out the anxiety building in my chest. That damn chair does not belong there. I want to move it—no, I need to

move it—but I’m anchored in this bed with Violet. Two hours later, the house is quiet, which is usually soothing to me, but right now, I wish there were a television or radio on somewhere in the house. I could use some mindless late night comedy or an infomercial to distract me from that fucking chair. It’s now a fucking chair after laying here for two hours. At first it was the chair, then the damn chair, but now it’s graduated to a fullfledged fucking chair. I may get rid of that chair after tonight. No I wont. It completes the room. I drape my shirt over the back of it when I’m getting ready for work. I sit in it when I tie my shoes. But more importantly, the space where it sits would be empty without it. I don’t know why I can’t just throw a fucking piece of furniture away when I decide I don’t like it or when it’s not needed anymore. I’ve never been able to get rid of things. I’m not a hoarder—quite the opposite. I prefer things simple and streamlined, less is more and that sort of thing.

I think of everything other than this gorgeous woman in my arms and the chair. I think about the horror of public restrooms, The Brady Bunch, broccoli, sweaty locker rooms. It’s four in the morning. In two hours, I’m waking this beauty up for a morning workout that I am hoping does not only last for one morning. In two hours, I am going to slide my numb arm out from under this pillow and get out of this bed and put that fucking chair that’s been tormenting me for hours back into its spot. In two hours, I’m going to slide my hard, throbbing cock between her thighs and worship Violet until she never wants to leave this bed again. Two hours. I’ve got this.

I OPEN my eyes and stare at the ceiling, and a warm slice of sunlight streams across the center of my bed. I blink and turn my head to my right and find an empty space. This isn’t unusual. I sleep alone and I live alone. Something isn’t right this morning, though. Something’s off. The smell of lavender

permeates the sheets, and the chair that is supposed to be next to my bed is crookedly positioned, facing the open door of my bedroom. Violet. Fuck, I fell asleep. Just two hours left on my watch, and I fucking dropped the ball. I jump out of bed and storm through the door. The compulsion to fix the fucking chair’s position almost sucks me in, but my concern for Violet’s safety is more powerful. “Violet,” I call down the hall that leads to another bedroom and a bathroom. I’m frozen listening for her reply and trying to decide if I should go downstairs first or check these rooms. The doors are closed. That’s a good sign. I decide on the stairs, taking them two at a time when she doesn’t answer. I call out again. “Violet.” Nothing. I’m thinking about the square footage of my house when I remember that Violet was naked when she

went to sleep last night. My house isn’t that big, three thousand one hundred and twenty-five square feet, to be exact. I’ll find her. I’m sure of it. I cross the living room, scanning left and right, searching for her. Nothing. Picking up speed, I tear through the kitchen and down the hall to the garage. Please, God, don’t let her have found the keys. The doorknob cracks the plaster when I open the door with enormous force. I smash my hand against the wall inside the garage and turn on the light. I circle the vehicle, bare feet slapping against the custom coated concrete flooring, looking in every window, checking every door. All are locked and the seats are empty. “Violet!” I yell this time, my cool Marine confidence wavering ever so slightly. And then I hear her. “Major?” her soft voice comes from inside the house. When I step inside, I see her down the hall. She’s standing with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders on the other side of the kitchen island. She’s disheveled and confused. I close the distance between us in five long strides

and wrap my arms around her, squeezing her tight. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I figured since I wasn’t at home I might not . . .” “Shush, there’s nothing to apologize for. I should be apologizing to you. I told you I’d keep you safe and I fell asleep on the job.” I stroke her long, tangled hair down her back and kiss the top of her head. Why does everything with this woman feel so natural and familiar? I don’t cuddle, I don’t soothe and calm, and I never bring women into my house or my bed. She’s enchanted me with some sort of witchery—a spell, a curse, maybe? She’s shivering in my arms. “Where were you?” I ask. She moves her face from my chest to look up at me with bloodshot eyes. “Right here,” she says, pointing to the floor on the other side of the island. I ran right past her on my

way to the garage. “You weren’t exaggerating about the sleepwalking, were you?” She shakes her head and nuzzles back into my chest. I scoop her up and carry her back upstairs to bed to warm her up. When I’ve got her back in bed, I remove the throw blanket from her body and cover her with the thick navy blue comforter. She keeps ahold of my hand when I start to move away. “I’ll be right back,” I say. She reluctantly releases my hand and tucks it under the covers with the rest of her body. I move my chair back to its spot, adjusting it twice before I’m satisfied that it’s perfectly positioned. I feel her eyes on me, trying to figure me out, assessing, judging. But I’m used to people messing with me for being anal. I like things a certain way, that’s all. That’s it, no big deal. I return to the bed on her side, and while she

watches me closely, I drop my briefs and lift the comforter to slide in close to her. I’m rock hard— have been all night. Her eyes are wide with surprise as she scoots over to make room for me. When I’m settled, she wraps herself around me like a koala bear, arms around my neck, one leg hooked over my hip, pressing her wet core against my cock. Fuck, she feels good . . . too good, fucking fabulously good. I could slide right in with no effort. She’s right there, ripe and wet for the taking. Just one small tilt of my hips, and I could push balls deep into the sexiest woman I’ve known in years—six years, to be exact. “Are you warm?” I ask. “Yes,” she says softly. “Are you ready for a one-morning stand?” “That’s what I was thinking of calling this last night too,” she says, surprised. “Great minds—” I start to say.

“Think alike,” she finishes for me. “So, are you ready?” “You tell me,” she says, arching her back and pressing her wet pussy against the tip of my cock. We rock together, eyes locked, my cock sliding between her folds and against her clit until she’s on fire. I claim her mouth and slide my tongue between her lips, exploring, tangling it with hers. She digs her heel into the small of my back, arching and moaning, begging me with her body and her little fuck me gasps between kisses to take her now. I roll onto my back, never breaking the kiss, taking her with me. She’s flush against my body when I reach out to the night table and blindly search for the handle on the drawer. I find it and slide it open a crack to reach inside for a condom. I put the box in there last night when she was talking to her mother. She was so busy explaining herself to her mother, she didn’t even notice.

When I’ve got the foil package in my hand, I untangle my other hand from her hair and open it over her back. The second I have the wrapper off, I flip her onto her back. She screeches and lifts one corner of her mouth in the most seductive smile when I rise over her to slide the condom over my thick shaft. She sucks her plump bottom lip into her mouth and holds it between her teeth, sliding her hands up and down the tops of my thighs that are straddling her curvaceous hips. “Major?” she says. I like how she says Major, like it’s my name and not my rank. “Hmm?” I say, raising one eyebrow and sliding a long finger along her soaking wet slit. Her eyes flutter shut, and a feathery gasp escapes her lips. I’m not letting up. I continue to drag my finger in a figure eight around her clit and down into her pussy. Her nails dig into my thighs and her back arches off the mattress. She hasn’t tried to ask her question again. I’m betting it exploded into a million pieces in her mind when I touched her. Still

stroking her, I lean down on one elbow to tease her stiff nipple with the tip of my tongue. I circle and suck and flick before moving to show the other breast the same attention. Her hands that were stroking my thighs earlier, the same ones that dug her fingernails into my flesh, have abandoned my skin to grip the sheets of the bed. “Please, Major, please,” she says, and I can’t help but make her speak in that soft, whimpering voice again. “Please what, Violet? Tell me what you want.” Her eyes float open, and she stops writhing on my hand. “I want you inside of me, fucking me, Major. I can’t wait anymore.” Fuck, those dirty words coming out of that sweet mouth is such a turn on. It only takes a miniscule movement on both our

parts and I’m sinking into her, slowly, inch by inch, until I’m deep inside her. Her legs are wrapped around my waist like a vise, and her heels are digging into my ass, but I can’t move. “Be still,” I tell her, running one hand along her silky soft thigh. She obeys, staring at me with her sleepy dark bedroom eyes. I’m glad we waited until morning. This is a sight I would have missed in the dark, and that would have been a crime. Her lips are parted and her breath is coming in short pants. Her flat belly sinks in whenever I find a new place on her body to explore. Her flushed cheeks and the fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead . . . she is perfection. I hook my hand behind her knee and slide her leg up, pushing deeper into her and moan, “Fuck, you feel so good. How do you want it, baby? Slow and deep, or fast and hard?” She mouths the word both, and I smirk. I like this greedy beauty more and more every minute. I slide out to the tip and hover before plunging back in

slowly. Over and over, I circle my hips until she throws her arms over her head and grips the pillow, pulling it around her face on both sides. “Fast and hard now, please, Major,” she pants, and I release her knee and place my hands on either side of her head and drive into her hard, just the way she asked for it. She releases the pillow and slides her hands around to my ass, urging me on, pushing me, begging me to bring her to climax. I hate to have this end, but I want to make her feel good—better than good. I want to rock her fucking world. Our sweat-covered bodies slap together at a hungry pace. She begins to arch her back and tense. She’s close. So am I, but I’m holding on to watch her come. “I . . . oh God,” she yells, and I watch as her eyes squeeze shut and her mouth falls open. Every muscle in her body simultaneously contracts around me while I continue to glide in and out, giving her every last second of pleasure possible. When I’m positive she’s satisfied, when she begins

to feel limp underneath me, I power forward and release with a roar. I collapse to the side, pulling her with me, staying connected, and we lay tangled in each other’s arms, catching our breath. “You’re amazing,” I say, brushing clumps of damp hair off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Next time, I’m yelling oorah when I come, Marine. You’re pretty damn spectacular yourself.” “So this isn’t a one-morning-stand anymore?” I ask, crossing my fingers and toes, willing her to say no. “Hell no, we can’t just do that once,” she says enthusiastically, and my insides brighten for the first time in six long years. “I agree wholeheartedly. That is definitely something worth repeating.” “And repeating and repeating and repeating . . .” she says, smiling.

I kiss her on her forehead and then her nose and then once more softly on her lips. I don’t cuddle or kiss post coital, and my heart never skips a beat in my chest when a woman smiles at me. Violet has me breaking all of my rules, and I am a man who likes his rules. “What time is it?” I ask. She lifts up her head a couple of inches off the pillow and squints at the clock on the table behind me. “Eight thirty I think. Why do you have such an old clock anyway?” “It was my adoptive mother’s. She had a thing about time, so I took it from her when I left home. Violet?” “Yeah?” “Your eyes are red. Do you wear contacts?” She groans. “Yes, damn it, they hurt. I keep leaving them in. Now I’ll have to wear my glasses to the bridal shower.”

I push back the covers and slide out of her, still semi-hard. She makes a faint sound of disapproval in her throat when I leave her in the bed alone. But when I return with a bottle of saline solution and a new contact lens case, she is appreciative. “You wear contacts too?” she asks. “No, I used to. I had Lasik, but I had a new bottle of saline, and I always used new contact cases when I got a new pair.” She sits up in bed, and I open one side of the cases and fill it with saline as she removes a contact. She slips it into the fluid and we repeat the process for the other eye. “Better?” I ask. “Well, my eyes feel better, but now I can’t see shit.” I chuckle. “I think you’ve seen plenty for a onemorning stand.” She wilts, and I realize my screw up.

“Until next time, of course.” “I think we should have a next time one more time before you take me back to the hotel.” “Hmm, so a two-morning stand?” “Yes, precisely.” “I suggest we continue in the shower so we will be ready to go when we’re done.” “Excellent time management, Major Steele,” she says, playfully referring to my noisy ticking clock. I actually hate that fucking clock and what it represents, but I’m not telling Violet stories about my mother. I’d rather concentrate on taking her into the shower and bending her over to give her a second proper Good Morning. “Ready to yell oorah?” “Oorah, Marine,” she says, and I scoop her up and carry her to the shower where she did in fact yell Oorah . . . more than once.

CHAPTER 8

VIOLET

Boring showers and pregnant dates. Belle blushes bright red when she lifts the lid off the gift my mother gave her. God only knows what’s in that box. I’m so glad I chose not to go in on something with her. Belle’s ultra-conservative mother is hosting the shower today. She’s a stuffy, formal woman. She looks like a vintage Barbie doll in a 1950s pencil skirt and button-up jacket with a peplum—minus the big tits. It’s a ridiculous

outfit on this eighty-five-degree day. I told Mom to save the risqué gifts for the bachelorette party, but she loves to stir up shit. “I think I’ll save this one for later,” Belle says quickly, replacing the lid on the box. Her mother lifts one eyebrow at my mom but looks at the tag on the gift and clucks her tongue anyway before she removes it from Belle’s lap. Mom has developed a bit of a wild, carefree reputation since my father died, and we all come from the same community. Belle’s mother, Marjorie, turns her nose up and twists in her chair to slide the box way in the back under the table behind her. She has been painstakingly logging each gift into a wedding book as they are being opened, but Mother’s is getting the shaft. There will be no entry that says barely there, red seethrough negligee set from Lilly Washington on her gift list. I’ll be sure to snatch it up and take it if they conveniently leave it there after the shower. I’m no

prude, and I know my mother. It’s probably something kinky or over the top sexy. No sense in letting it go to waste. I’ll bet Major and I could find some trouble to get into together with a gift like that. Major. Memories of last night and this morning have been replaying over and over in my mind ever since he dropped me off at the hotel. Flashes of his strong, weathered tan hands on my brown skin, his full lips on my breasts, the way his face exploded with pure bliss when he— “Violet, Violet.” “Oh, sorry.” Mom pats me on the leg when Belle calls out my name to thank me for my gift. “Thank you. This is so awesome. I love it,” Belle says, holding up the Facebook photo album I made using all of the photos of her and Mattie posted during their relationship. “I’m glad you like it. It’s a little different from the ones available online. I had them add a few

special touches. Just one of the perks of working for Facebook, ya know?” “Thank You, Mattie will love it too.” She hugs the album to her chest and hands it to her mother, who I’m sure has no idea what Facebook is. But she doesn’t scoot it under the table with Mom’s gift, so I take that as a compliment. All of Belle’s friends start to buzz about what’s in the next package, and my mind wanders back to this morning again. “Wow, Vie, you have stars in your eyes. What did that man do to you last night?” Mom asks. “Nothing,” I answer honestly. He didn’t do anything to me last night. It was this morning that he rocked my world off its foundation. “Oh, come on, Vie, tell me about it. He’s gorgeous, successful and he’s a Marine. He’s perfect for you,” she says, bouncing up and down in her seat and clapping her hands together quietly so as not to interrupt the gift opening.

“He’s nice.” “Nice? You need to give me more than nice or I may disown you right here, right now.” I sigh and roll my eyes. “He’s polite, and clean— like crazy clean. He has a nice house, but it’s really cold and impersonal. He has good wine and granite countertops.” “Wait, why did you mention granite countertops? Did something dirty happen on the kitchen counter?” “No, he sat me on it but we just talked and drank wine.” Her face wilts. She’s disappointed, but not for long. “So did you have any sleepwalking episodes?” I don’t answer her. I’m not crazy about discussing my sex life with my mom. We don’t live together and haven’t for years. I’m not accountable to anyone. Who I sleep with and why is my business.

“Oh come on, Violet, it’s been forever since you had a boyfriend. I’m excited for you, and I like this one.” “He’s not my boyfriend. I just met him yesterday.” “Yeah, but you should have seen the fireworks exploding above your heads at Target. There was chemistry, pure chemistry. And at the bar last night, I saw how he looked at you. He’s got it bad for you, honey. You realize that, right?” No, I don’t, but this uncomfortable conversation isn’t going to end until I throw her a bone. “All right, yeah, we like each other. I sleepwalked into his kitchen and slept on the floor, and we had mind-blowing sex in the morning before he brought me home. Satisfied?” A broad smile spreads across her lips and she pulls me into a side hug without leaving her chair. “There, that wasn’t so difficult now, was it? When are you seeing him again?”

I hadn’t even thought about that. I was in such a rush to get back to the hotel to make the shower on time, we never made solid plans. “You got his phone number, didn’t you, Vie? Tell me you got his phone number or he has yours.” “Well, no. I . . . there was never an appropriate time to exchange numbers,” I say, trying to think back to our time together to see if there had been. Mom smacks her forehead with the heel of her hand and groans. “Violet, where’s your head? You just had mind-blowing sex with a great guy and you didn’t think about how to contact him?” She slumps back into the plush cream-colored chair, draping her arms over the arms of it dramatically. “He’s a Major, Mom. I’m sure he’s not that hard to find.” I worry my lip a bit. “And I know where he lives,” I say, pointing my finger at her. “Well yes, there’s that. Did you talk about the wedding anymore? He needs to know when and where it’s going to be.”

“Someone at the table last night mentioned that it was at the base and Taye told him Saturday, so . . .” She’s shaking her head back and forth. “Mother, stop. We found each other twice in twenty-four hours without trying. I’m sure it’ll be okay.” She shrugs and swipes her mimosa off the table, downing it in one swallow. I hope I’m right. Major is the first man I’ve considered seeing more than once in a long time. I’d hate to let him slip away. Mom elbows me gently, and I look to where she’s got her eyes trained down the table at Kimber. Her skin glows in her pretty pale pink empire dress that hides her baby bump well. I wonder what I would look like pregnant. Where the hell did that thought come from? I do not care what I would look like pregnant. I’ll never be pregnant. Well, not for a long time anyway. Kimber is so sad right now

without Caleb. I hope when the baby comes, it will make her happy. He’s an idiot to leave her. No matter what happened between them, I know one thing for sure. Kimber is sweet and kind and she couldn’t hurt a fly, so I’m leaning toward Caleb being the fuck-up in that marriage. Kimber has been sitting quietly, observing but not participating in conversation. She feels left out. “Go down there. Talk to her,” Mom says. Belle has just opened a ridiculously large Waterford crystal vase. Everyone is oohing and ahhing over it when I take the opportunity to move down to the end of the table, where Kimber has separated herself by a few empty chairs. She sits up straighter in her chair when she sees me approaching. “Hey, girlie, how’s it going?” “Hi, Violet, oh you know. Pregnant, can’t drink or stay awake for more than a couple of hours at a

time, but other than that, peachy.” She smiles and I grimace. I should have stayed with Mom. I’m no good at this sort of thing. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to complain. Well yeah, I do, but I don’t want to be a party pooper. This is all just really hard,” she says, flicking her wrist down the long table of country club snobs. “I get it. It’s okay, you can bitch to me all you want. This isn’t my kind of thing either. I’m more of a bachelorette party kind of girl.” Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. She just got done complaining about not being able do drink. “Sorry, that’s not what you want to hear either, is it?” “It’s okay, I’m not a big drinker anyway. It’s just all the wedding stuff in general. It wasn’t that long ago when I was at the head of a table like this surrounded by all of my friends, dreaming of a future full of happiness and rainbows.”

I cover her hand with mine. I don’t know why. I suck at comforting people, but something tells me she needs the contact. “What happened, Kimber? You and Caleb were so happy. You seemed perfect for each other.” She bites her lip and looks at my hand covering hers before answering. “We were so happy, and everything was going along just like it’s supposed to. We were together for two years, we both had good jobs, we bought a house, and then I got pregnant.” She rests her hand on her little bump and tears fill her eyes. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” “No. I haven’t talked to many people about it, but my therapist says I should. It’s just so embarrassing.” “Weren’t you and Caleb planning on having kids?” “Yes, that’s just it. We talked about having a couple

of kids when we were dating, no big, giant Brady Bunch family or anything, but one or two. We never said exactly when, though, and Caleb insists that I got pregnant on purpose without consulting him, but I swear I didn’t. I was on the pill. I took it on time every day, but somehow, I got pregnant anyway. He was angry, said I manipulated our marriage or something. I don’t even understand what he meant, but he wouldn’t forgive me. And then he met Chrissie and used her as a weapon to get back at me for making him a father earlier than he wanted to be. He cheated on me purposely, knowing I have serious trust issues. I didn’t even do anything wrong. I just slept with my husband like any wife would do and accidentally got pregnant. He went crazy though, swore there was no way that could happen unless I messed up. He wouldn’t even believe the doctors when they told him it happens all the time.” A fat, round tear escapes one of her beautiful ocean blue eyes and rolls down her cheek onto her dress, making a wet spot where it lands.

“That’s insane, like really, it seems sort of mental. Has he ever seemed paranoid before? Did he think you were cheating when you weren’t?’ “No, never, I thought of that. I’ve wondered if he met Chrissie and used the pregnancy as an excuse to get out so he could be with her.” “Are they still together?” “Yeah, they’re here together for the wedding.” “No fucking way,” I say on exhalation with my mouth hanging open. What a fucking bastard. I have the overwhelming urge to kick that baby-faced fucker’s ass. “I’ve only seen them once in the hotel lobby. She’s my complete opposite in every way, like he’s trying to purge himself of me. She’s a brunette, brown eyed dingbat who dresses like a stripper. Oh my God, maybe she’s a stripper, Violet.” I can’t see Caleb with a stripper, but then I couldn’t see him as a cheating bastard until now

either. “He probably feels like an ass about what he did, so he chose someone who wouldn’t remind him of you.” Kimber sniffles, and I look around for something for her to blow her nose on. Mom thrusts a tissue over my shoulder to Kimber, and she looks up at her, accepting it and blowing her nose. “Let’s get outta here, ladies. I’m bored to death watching Belle open cut glass and recipe boxes,” Mom says in a whisper. I give Kimber a what do you think look and she nods yes. “Belle, thank you, dear, for inviting us. Kimber isn’t feeling well and Violet and I are going to walk her back to her room,” Mom calls down the table. Belle waves. “Thanks for coming, guys. Feel better, Kimber.”

Belle’s mother looks relieved to have us go, but not more relived than I feel. Mom takes Kimber’s hand and helps her up like an invalid instead of a pregnant woman, and we exit the private room and giggle when we reach the front doors of the country club. “Thank you so much. I couldn’t handle much more of that,” Kimber laughs. “I’d rather watch a cactus grow in the dessert,” Mom says. “So now what? We have all afternoon before tonight’s Karaoke wedding get together.” I say. “I’ve been dying to go to the beach since we got here. Are you two up for some sand and sun?” Mom says. I look at Kimber. It’s up to her. I’m always down for some beach time. “Yeah, actually, that sounds good, but I don’t have a suit. I wasn’t planning on swimming this week.”

“No problem, we can stop and get you one on the way. I can always use another swimsuit,” Mom says. So we’re off to swimsuit shop and spend time at the beach, and I couldn’t be happier for the distraction, because I was really beginning to worry about not having Major’s phone number. Mom finds this cute shop that only sells swimwear, and we are all looking through racks and racks of swimsuits when I find the perfect one for Kimber. “Look, this is so you,” I say, holding it up for Mom and Kimber to see. It’s a black one-piece with large circle cutouts on the sides. It’s sexy as hell, and it’ll accentuate her baby bump perfectly. She gasps and lays her hand on her chest. “I love it. It’s perfect.” I hand it to her and watch her weave her way through the racks to the changing rooms. “How’d you do that, Vie? You have the worst

sense of style of anyone I know,” Mom says. “Shut up, Mother. I do not.” “Yes you do. You have a personal shopper choose all your clothes.” “Because I don’t have time to shop, not because I can’t choose my own clothes.” I don’t know why I’m arguing with her about this. She’s right. I can’t put together an outfit to save my life. I suck at fashion. Thankfully, the dress code at Facebook is pretty relaxed. Mom rolls her eyes at me and disappears into a dressing room with three of four suits while I keep looking for myself. It’s not totally my fault that I’m clueless when it comes to fashion. I’m short, and I have breasts and curves—a lot of things just don’t fit. “May I help you?” a saleswoman says from behind me. “Oh, I’m still looking. Thanks, though.”

“I noticed you were looking at bikinis. I thought you might like a couple of my favorites,” she says, holding up two adorable suits. “Did my mother put you up to this?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at the young saleswoman. A frown wrinkles her forehead and she looks lost. “Never mind. Yes, I’ll try those. Thanks,” I say, snatching the suits and heading for the changing rooms. “Thanks, Mom,” I say when I’m shown to a stall next to hers. “No problem,” she calls out. . I put on the first suit, and it’s a perfect silver bikini with thin slashes at the hips and a halter-top that makes my breasts look great. I’m looking at myself in the three-way mirror when Mom steps out in a white tankini that could almost pass as a bikini. She looks great.

“Where’s Kimber?” she asks, and I hitch my thumb toward her door. “How ya doing, Kimber?” she asks. “Fine,” she says with zero enthusiasm. Mom and I look at each other. “Let’s see how it looks,” Mom encourages. The door opens slowly and Kimber steps out, all legs and long black hair spilling over her shoulders, looking like a pregnant Sports Illustrated model. “You look gorgeous,” Mom gushes, and she really does look great. I can’t imagine ever looking that good in a swimsuit pregnant, but then I can’t imagine looking pregnant at all. “You think it’s okay? Not too revealing?” she says, running her hands over the cutouts on the sides. “No, it’s perfect, just the right amount of peek-aboo skin exposure,” I say.

“I love both of yours too,” she says, and we all take one quick turn in front of the mirrors and change back into our stuffy bridal shower dresses. In the car, we decide to stop at Target and grab some towels and sunscreen, and I can’t help but scan every aisle hoping for another run-in with Major. But sadly, there’s no sign of my collision partner today. “You’re going to have to ask Taye to get his number for you. I doubt he hangs out at Target a lot,” Mom says under her breath in the checkout line. “Hush. I wasn’t looking for him.” “Yes, you were.” “Looking for whom?” Kimber asks. “Oh, nobody. Just this guy who bumped into me here yesterday,” I say like it was nothing. “A hot Marine that she just happened to bump into again last night after dinner at the bar, and she went

home with him and he’s coming to the wedding with her,” Mom adds, wiggling her eyebrows up and down. “What? You went home with a Marine, and you’re bringing him to the wedding? Violet, you’ve been holding out. Tell me about this,” Kimber says. “Mom pretty much covered it. We bumped into each other twice, he’s hot, he’s a Marine, and I uh . . . I went home with him last night.” Kimber lays her purchases on the conveyer belt and looks at me with her mouth hanging open. “Wow, some girls get all the luck,” she says. “It was a one-night stand. No biggie, it’s what I do.” “A one-night stand that’s coming to the wedding with you?” she asks. “We didn’t even exchange numbers. He said he would go, but you know guys will do or say anything to get into your pants,” I say, praying my

words aren’t really true. “He’ll call, and if he doesn’t, we will find him,” Mom says confidently. “Mom, I’m not hunting him down and holding him to his word. If he wants to go, he will find a way to contact me.” “I bet he calls. Your brother’s a Marine, and those guys stick together,” Kimber says. The conversation is cut off when the cashier starts chatting with us about the weather and two-for-one sunscreen prices. When we get to the beach, we take turns holding up a towel in the back seat of the car to change into our suits. When our tops are all tied and our bottoms adjusted into place, we grab our towels and some snacks we picked up at Target and head out onto the warm sand. I set up three lawn chairs near the water, and we all sit down and moan when the sun seeps into our

skin and the water laps at our toes. “This right here is heaven on earth,” I say, and they both murmur in agreement. “I miss this,” Kimber says. “The beach?” I ask. “No. Well yes, but I meant I miss just hanging with friends. I’ve been so sick with the pregnancy until recently, and none of my friends know what to say about the divorce, so they just sort of don’t say anything at all.” “I’m sorry,” I say. “Don’t be. It’s been an eye opener for sure. You learn who your real friends are when something like this happens.” Mom reaches over and pats Kimber’s hand and we all sit for a while, soaking up the sun. I’m dozing off when suddenly the sun isn’t glowing inside my eyelids anymore. Something is blocking

the sun—something big. I open my eyes and find Captain Garcia standing in front of me with his hands on his hips, wearing only a pair of running shorts and Asics, breathing hard. “I thought that was you,” he says out of breath from running on the beach. I look up at him and shade my eyes. He is all glistening solid muscle and ten times hotter with no clothes on. I mean, I thought he was a sweet guy last night, flirting with me and trying to help me with my shirt, but wow, I had no idea all of this was hidden under that blue button-up shirt. “Garcia, right?” I say, even though I’m sure who he is. “Yes, it’s nice to see you again. I’d offer to shake your hand but I’ve been running and . . .” He holds up his sweaty hands to explain himself. “Oh no, that’s okay. It’s nice to see you again too. I can’t seem to turn around without running into a Marine lately,” I say with a chuckle.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of us here.” Mom perks up and not so subtly elbows Kimber, who has fallen asleep. “Are you going to introduce us to your friend, Violet, or are you going to be selfish and keep all the Marines to yourself?” Mom asks. Sometimes I wish I had an old, grey haired mother who loved to bake cookies and do needlework on the couch watching Wheel of Fortune all day. But she’s not that kind of mom. “Oh, of course. Mom, this is Captain Garcia. He’s a friend of Major Steele’s. Captain Garcia, this is my mother and my friend, Kimber.” He nods politely at my mother, but his eyes light up when he looks at Kimber. “Nice to meet you, ladies.” “So you’re friends with the Major?” Mom asks, and I know exactly what she’s going to ask next, but I can’t think of a way to stop her fast enough.

“Yes, we met Violet last night at the Blue Water Bar and Grill.” “You wouldn’t happen to have the Major’s phone number, would you? He somehow forgot to give it to Violet.” Oh, God. I knew it. No tact. She just blurts out what she wants to know without a thought that she may be embarrassing me to death. Garcia looks panicked. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to give out his buddy’s phone number. I’m sure they have some sort of bro code where they’re not allowed to disclose any information without permission. “Mom, stop it. If Major wants to call me, he will find a way. Don’t bully his friend for the number. I’m really sorry. She has no manners. Don’t mind her,” I say to Garcia, and his worried expression eases into relief. “Well at least give him your number, Violet. I can’t believe you two didn’t exchange numbers this

morning,” Mom says. “This morning?” Garcia says, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, can you believe she spent the night at his house and neither of them remembered to exchange numbers? Ridiculous . . .” She rolls her eyes. Garcia’s jaw drops. I think he’s going to say something, but the words don’t make it out of his mouth. “You okay?” I ask, shielding my eyes when he moves out of the path of the sun. He shakes his head, snapping from his mini reverie. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just . . . well, the Major doesn’t take women to his house . . . ever. And he never spends the night with anyone either. I’d better get your number and give it to him in case he doesn’t have it—but I’m sure he does. He’s very resourceful, but I don’t want him pissed at me if I don’t.” Poor Captain Garcia is rambling and fumbling for

his phone in his pocket. When he finds it, I give him my number, and when he’s done entering it, he bites his lip and looks back and forth between Kimber and me. I swear he looks at her left hand for a ring. When he doesn’t see one, I watch him gather up his nerve, and before I can interrupt, he goes balls out and asks for her number too. “I know it’s really forward and all, but I wonder if you’d give me your number too, Kimber. Maybe we could go for lunch sometime.” Now my jaw is in my lap as I turn to Kimber to see how she’s going to handle this. She cocks her head sideways, narrowing her eyes. “You see this, right?” she says, pointing both fingers at her protruding baby bump. “Yes, ma’am, I do,” he says, not missing a beat, and I’m fucking impressed as hell. “And you still want to take me to lunch?” “Yes, if you’d like to.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “555-423-5519. I’m only here for a week.” “Then we should make every minute count. Dinner tonight?” Man, this guy is smooth. I think I may have fallen a little in love with him myself just now, and I’m pretty sure Kimber’s smitten judging by the blush creeping up her neck. “We have a thing tonight. It’s for the wedding that we’re all here for. Would you like to come along as my date?” Kimber asks. “Absolutely, I’d love to. What time should I pick you up and where?” She looks at me. “Violet, do you remember what time we’re supposed to meet up?” “Karaoke’s at nine at the same bar we were at last night.” “Perfect, how about dinner first then?” he asks.

“Would it be okay if we made it a group thing tonight since I don’t know you? A girl can’t be too careful these days, especially when she’s pregnant.” I’m pretty sure she added the pregnant comment to be extra sure he knows she’s not just sporting a gut. I cover my mouth and giggle. “No problem. I’ll meet you all in the lobby at seven?” Garcia asks. “Yes, see you then,” Kimber says, waving goodbye with the tips of her fingers. Garcia nods and takes off down the beach away from us. “Holy shit, mama, you just scored yourself a Papi Chulo,” Mom says. “Mom, where did you learn that?” I ask. “Baby, I’m from Southern California, which may as well be Northern Mexico. A better question is why don’t you use expressions like that,” she says, swatting the air between us.

“Let’s get the hot preggo in the water. You look like you’re about to spontaneously combust, Kimber.” Mom stands and reaches to help Kimber up. I follow them into the cool water and sink under for a moment of peaceful silence. This trip is nothing like I expected, and I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. When I surface, Mom and Kimber are talking about dinner tonight and I can’t help but hope Garcia brings Major. A part of me worries that he purposely didn’t give me his number this morning. And Garcia’s comment about Major never taking anyone to his house has me spooked. But on the opposite end of that spectrum is the thought that maybe I’m special and that’s why he took me where he never takes others. “Can you believe that, baby? You and Kimber both have dates for tonight. Not twenty-four hours in Oceanside, and you’re both set up with dates for the week,” she says.

“You mean Kimber, Mom. I still don’t have the Major’s phone number.” She waves a dismissive limp wrist in my direction. “He’ll have it before that Captain Garcia gets home from his run. Mark my words.” “Thanks for going with me tonight, you guys. I know I didn’t ask ahead of time. I appreciate your not backing out. I never imagined I’d be asked out on a date like this,” she says, pointing to her tummy. “Of course. We wouldn’t leave ya hanging, honey,” Mom says. “You’re gorgeous, Kimber. I think maybe your asshole ex made you forget that for a minute. You’ve still got it, girl. Even pregnant, you picked up the hottest guy on the beach.” “Thanks. It was a confidence booster, that’s for sure,” she says. It’s amazing that someone who looks like Megan

Fox with a baby bump could believe she’s not attractive. The mind is a powerful thing, and she’s been broken down by the one person in her life who was supposed to always be there to lift her up. I’m glad we decided to ditch the bridal shower and go to the beach today. Kimber looks better than I’ve seen her since we arrived in Oceanside. Captain Garcia was exactly what Kimber needed today. Now I hope he can bring me something I need. I hope he brings me Major Steele.

CHAPTER 9

MAJOR

Don’t Phunk with my heart. A rock clatters around under the protective deck of the mower, and I cringe. I release the handle and cut the engine. How the fuck did a rock get in my yard? Kids, that’s how. The little monsters are always dragging rocks and shit out of the neighbor’s flower garden to make tiny towns on the sidewalk. I don’t care if they mess up their own yards . . . well yeah, I do. It bugs me, but it’s worse

when they trample around in mine. I tip the mower on its side and feel around for the rock. I find it right away and slip it in my pocket before I pull the starter cord. It always takes two tries, but before I get it going again, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. A zing of adrenaline shoots through me before I remember that Violet and I forgot to exchange phone numbers. It can’t be her, not that I expect her to call anyway. It’s my job to call, but I fucked that up this morning. I was tired and she was in a hurry to make it to the bridal shower on time. We rushed around, and I dropped her off at the hotel before I thought to get her number. I can get her number. I have a lot of connections. I could always go back to the hotel where she’s staying, but it would have been nice to text her today. I look at the screen. It’s Garcia. What the hell could he want?

“Hey, Garcia.” “Hello, Major.” “What can I help you with? I’m in the middle of mowing the grass.” “Oh, okay. I won’t keep you, but I ran into that woman you helped last night.” I release the mower cord and it snaps against the plastic when I stand up. “Violet?” Where the fuck did he run into Violet? And why am I so pissed and jealous . . . and relieved? “Yeah, that’s her.” “Where did you see her?” I ask, but it’s more of a demand than a question. “I was running at the beach. She was with her mom and another woman.” “The beach?” She was supposed to be at a bridal

shower, or that’s what she told me anyway. “Yeah, I uh, I got her phone number for you, sir. Her mother mentioned you two didn’t exchange numbers, and I thought you might want to see her again.” “You asked her for her phone number?” “Oh no, her mother suggested I give it to you. I wasn’t hitting on her, I swear. Actually, I asked her friend to dinner tonight and I was thinking we could double date. Violet’s mom is going too, but she’s cool. I don’t think she’ll mind being a fifth wheel. She can handle herself. “Double date where?” I ask, fully intending to call her and take her out, double dating or not. “Blue Water. They have a Karaoke thing for that wedding they’re in town for. It’s at nine, but I’m meeting them at seven.” “You invited three women on a date?” “Well no, not at first. I asked Violet’s friend, but

she’s, well . . . she’s pregnant, and she wanted her friends to come since she doesn’t know me.” I close my eyes and try to concentrate on what Garcia just said. “Let me get this straight. You asked a pregnant woman out on a date? And then invited her friend and her friend’s mother?” “Yeah, well I asked her friend. They sorta ganged up on me, so now I’m meeting all of ‘em.” “Text me her number. I’ll be there at 1850,” I say and hang up. Why the hell is Garcia asking a pregnant woman on a date? And how the hell does Violet keep popping into my life? The hot midday sun beats down on my head and a trickle of sweat runs down the side of my face. I rub it away with the back of my hand, stuff my phone back into the pocket of my shorts, and yank the mower cord. I’ve been trying to keep busy and

not think of Violet and all the complications she could create in my organized, systematic life. But it’s no use. It’s like she’s gone viral in my mind. She’s everywhere all the time. Nothing can stop the images of us together this morning in my bed. They’re on repeat, waiting for me to add to the video . . . and I plan on doing exactly that tonight when I meet her for dinner. When I’m done mowing the yard, I squirt the grass off the mower and rinse the grass clippings down the driveway. The water from the hose forms a stream along the gutter in the street that carries the grass downhill to wherever—I don’t care as long as it’s not on my property. I put the mower in the shed and go inside to shower. I strip in the garage and throw my clothes and shoes in the washing machine on my way upstairs, being careful not to leave a trail of grass. When I’m showered and the tub has been scrubbed, I dress and leave the house. Edith was here this morning, and things are in perfect order today. She

brought her A game after I mentioned how disappointed I was with the mess in the foyer yesterday. You could eat off any surface in the house now, and that’s the way I like it. It’s 1845 when I pull into the parking lot beside the Blue Water Bar and Grille. I have a perfect view of the entrance from here. I want to watch Violet walk inside when she arrives. I texted Garcia a while ago and told him not to say anything about me coming tonight. I want to surprise her. I don’t have to wait long. She pulls up three minutes later and expertly parallel parks on the street. What a turn on. A woman who can handle her vehicle. I love it. I watch Violet and her mother exit the SUV. Violet looks stunning, even more beautiful than she did last night. She’s wearing a chic white fitted halter dress that hits her mid-thigh with silver heels that make her calves look phenomenal. I can’t wait to see that dress hanging in my closet tonight. I may even carry her to the bedroom so she can leave

those shoes on while I fuck her. Maybe . . . Her mother opens the back door, and I see why Captain Garcia asked a pregnant woman on a date. She is hands down the most beautiful pregnant woman I’ve ever seen. Long, dark wavy hair spilling down her back, a tight black dress, and heels that I’m pretty sure no pregnant woman should be wearing. Way to go, Garcia. When the women disappear inside, I text Violet. Are you wearing any panties? She responds immediately. Who is this? Me: Someone familiar with your gorgeous bare ass. Violet: Major? Me: Go to the restroom and take them off. Violet: First you tell me what color they were last night.

Me: Black. Lace. Thong. Take them off. Violet: Good memory. You’re bossy. Me: You haven’t seen anything yet. I’ve been gentle with you. Violet: So I take it there’s more to . . . come? Me: Much more—nice pun. Now I’m going to have to wait out here thinking about granny panties and germs until I can safely walk inside without the outline of my cock being blatantly obvious. Granny panties. Okay, not the best idea. Panties in general aren’t going to help me tame the beast. Cockroaches, dirty fingernails, the number of germs estimated to be on the average person’s shoe is 66 million. Shit, now I’m never going to fuck Violet in my bed with her shoes on, no matter how sexy they are. Fucking and Violet. Now those aren’t two words to string together when trying to get rid of an erection.

Okay, cats, oatmeal, having the flu, my Aunt Florence. Ah, there it is. Good old Aunt Flo. Now I can go inside. The restaurant is busier tonight. Saturday is their biggest night. I spot Violet sitting down, facing away from me, next to her mother. Her beautiful pregnant friend and Garcia are on the opposite side of the table. I greet Violet with a kiss on the cheek like we’re an old couple. She introduces me to her friend, Kimber, and I say hello to Garcia and Violet’s mother, Lilly. I take the chair at the head of the table next to Violet. “You look stunning tonight,” I say, sliding my hand over hers on top of the table. “Thank you, you’re looking very handsome yourself.” “You ready for some Karaoke tonight, Major?” Garcia asks. “Gonna show you how it’s done,” I say, razzing the Captain. He thinks he’s the best singer on base.

I’ve listened to him at other bars on karaoke night and he’s good—really good—but so am I. “You sing?” Lilly asks. “I do.” She raises her eyebrows and elbows Violet in the ribs. “Ouch, Mom, gosh. Watch it with your bony elbows.” “He can sing too,” she says under her breath. I wonder what she means by ‘too’. What has Violet been telling her mother about me? Violet ignores her mother and turns her attention on Kimber. “So Kimber, lets play a little game of get to know your date,” Violet says. Kimber squirms in her seat. “Okay, but only if you play too,” Kimber says.

“Sure. Who’s first?” Violet asks. “We can go, since you and the Major seem to know one another pretty well already,” Kimber says, folding her arms on the table and leaning forward. “I’m not familiar with this game. You’ll have to fill me in,” Garcia says with a big, goofy grin. Garcia is Latin lover hot. Women fall for him all the time, but he’s a little immature, and that’s where he usually loses them. “It’s easy, just ask a question—any question about your date, and they have to answer it. If they won’t, then one of us will do it for them and vice versa.” “Okay, you go first, Garcia,” Violet says. “Okay, cool. What’s your favorite food?” Garcia asks. “Easy, cookies,” Kimber says. “How long have you been a Marine?” she shoots back.

“Nine years,” he says with pride, sitting up straighter in his chair. “My turn,” Violet says. “Where are you from originally?” “Minneapolis, Minnesota,” I say. “Really? The Midwest? I would have never guessed. You seem like such a California boy,” Violet says, playfully punching me in the arm. “Yep, but I’m a city boy, so no farm jokes,” I say. “Cross my heart,” Violet says crossing her finger over her chest. “My turn. Did you do what I asked you to do in my text earlier?” Her hand slips out from under mine and into her own lap. Her cheeks flush a deep red, and a hush falls over the table. “That must have been some text,” Lilly says, winking at me.

“You have to answer, Vie, or we will answer for you, and you know what that means,” Kimber says, walking her fingers across the table toward her phone. Violet snatches it up and slips it into her tiny purse. “Yes, I did,” Violet answers and presses her stiletto heel into the top of my foot under the table. I hiss in pain, but it’s taken as an enthusiastic approval by everyone at the table. Garcia starts clapping like an idiot, and Violet presses harder onto my foot. I lean over and sweep the hair off her shoulder and whisper in her ear, “You can’t hurt me. I love it—harder.” When I move away, I can feel all eyes on us. Violet’s eyes narrow and she really screws her heel in. I close my eyes and breathe in through my nose and hold my breath. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two. I can see everyone’s hands, so it must be one hell of a mind game you’re playing,” Lilly says.

“You have no idea,” I say, opening my eyes to a very surprised Violet. She releases her heel from my foot and leans away from me. With a shaky voice, she announces it’s Kimber’s turn again, and I tune out all chatter and concentrate on her profile and the pain shooting up my leg. I enjoy it only because it was done out of her frustration, but now I’m afraid I may have scared her. I’m no masochist—or at least I don’t consider myself one—but I do like it when a woman shows moxie, and Violet has moxie to spare. We order drinks and then dinner after a few generic rounds of the get to know your date game. I learned that Violet’s favorite color is purple— imagine that—and that she is messy and named her computer Clementine. Things I didn’t learn from the game but are more important to me are that she observes everything around her, and she watches and gathers information, storing it for later. She’s competitive, educated and she is left-handed. She has the most adorable habit of tucking her hair behind her left ear, even when it’s already there.

After dinner, we make our way into the bar and join the group of people visiting for the wedding. It’s a much larger bunch tonight, twenty-five or thirty in all. “Are all these people part of the wedding party?” I ask Violet. This is the first time we have spoken directly to each other since the heel-stabbing incident. It seems like a safe enough subject to broach. “No, people are starting to fly in for the wedding. I think a lot of these people are guests.” “So we’re talking again?” I ask as she sits in the chair I’ve just pulled out for her. “We were never not talking.” I sit next to her and lift my hand to Wendy at the bar. She knows what I drink, and after last night, I’m pretty sure she knows what Violet drinks too. Violet follows my gaze to Wendy. “Old girlfriend?” she says, and God willing, I

sense a little jealousy in her tone. “I don’t have girlfriends, remember? One-nightstands only, and yes, Wendy and I have slept together, but she knows the rules.” Shit, that came out wrong. Actually, it came out right, but it’s different with Violet. Frown lines crease her forehead and her lips are set in a straight line. This is a pissed Violet. Time to backpedal. “I don’t mean that there are—” She cuts me off. “No, no. I see now—rules. Games have rules, and I don’t play games, Major Steele, so if you’ll excuse me, please, I have a song request to make.” She’s up and gone, clicking across the dance floor in those incredible heels before I can stop her and explain myself. I’m not even sure what I would have said, because sex is a game for me—at least it has been since my wife died six years ago. I’ve

never had feelings for another woman, not even close. But Violet has me rethinking my game. She has me feeling things, things I’m not sure I want to feel, things I don’t know what to do with. My eyes never leave her as she takes a slip of paper and writes down her song request and hands it to the DJ. He smiles and winks at her, and a pang of jealousy hits me in the heart. Jealousy. That’s something I haven’t felt in years. It’s happened on at least three occasions with Violet in the past twenty-four hours. First it was Garcia when he tried to help her with her shirt, then the ass wipe on the street with his hands all over her, and now a fucking DJ. All unreasonable situations with unworthy opponents, but I was jealous just the same. The DJ’s voice fills the bar, and the crowd lowers the sound to a dull murmur. “Hey how ya’ll doin tonight?” he yells into the microphone, and everyone holds up a drink and yells an enthusiastic collective “Yeah!”

“If you have a song request, just come on up and fill out a slip old-school style. We’re gonna start out with this fine little lady over here.” He points at Violet, who is now standing center stage holding the microphone with her feet shoulder width apart. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” “Violet.” “Okay, give it up for Violet singing The Black Eyed Peas Don’t Phunk with My Heart!” The music starts, and I groan. She’s going to take this out on me publicly. Great. I consider excusing myself until I hear her voice and I’m frozen in my seat. She can sing. She can really sing. She could give old Fergie a run for her money when she sings the chorus, I wonder if I take you home, would you still be in love, baby. Thing is, I know this song too, and I’ve been known to win a few Karaoke contests in my time. I stand and close the gap between us, watching her

eyes grow wide. She doesn’t miss a beat while she watches me hop on the stage and grab the second microphone off its stand. Will.i.am’s verse starts, and she opens her mouth, but I sing the words before she can. Girl, you know you got me, got me, with your pistol shot me, shot me. “Oh! It’s a sing off, ladies and gentlemen! Let’s hear it for the Major!” the DJ yells, and Violet and I proceed to battle it out with the lyrics, me doing Will’s part and her doing Fergie’s verses. I glance out and see the whole bar on their feet dancing on the dance floor and next to their tables. They don’t hold my attention for long, though. I can’t keep my eyes off Violet. The way her hips sway when she sings I wonder if I take you home, the way she seductively slinks around on the stage curling her finger toward herself, inviting me in. I accept her invitation, wrapping my free arm around her waist and turning her around so her

back is to my front. We rock our hips side to side together and continue to belt out the lyrics until the song is over and the crowd is roaring. They loved us. I kiss her damp neck, and we hand over the mics to the DJ, who is smiling from ear to ear. “You two were great!” “Thanks,” I say and take Violet’s hand and lead her off stage and toward the bar. She’s tugging at my arm, but I’m ahead of her and I’m not stopping until I show her she’s not a game to me. “Oh, no, no, Casanova, the song was fun, but I’m not following your rules,” she says when she sees we are approaching the kitchen doors. I grip her hand and clench my jaw. If she’d give me two fucking seconds, I’d tell her she’s not a damn game. I get her through the door, but when it closes behind us, she stops short and holds my arm with

both hands, trying to prevent me from taking her any further. Not happening. She’s five foot three and a half in stilettos and I’m six feet of solid muscle. The bathroom isn’t but a few feet inside the kitchen doors, but Violet slides the whole way on the balls of her feet, pulling against my arm. “No, no, no. What the hell do you not understand about no, Major?” I open the bathroom door. Thank God no one was in there, or this might have been the end of us. I pull her inside and press her back against the door, threading my fingers behind her neck into her damp hair and covering her mouth with mine. She struggles at first and I brace myself to be bitten, but just when I’m about to give up and let her go, she melts against my chest and wraps her arms around my neck. A moan rumbles up my throat, and she kisses me harder, deeper, with more passion. I remember my text request and slide my hand

down her hip and pull at the hem of her skirt to see if she was telling me the truth. “Fuck, Vie.” She’s soaking wet, but what’s even better is that she’s freshly waxed. Her mound is soft and silky, with no barriers between us. “I need to taste you.” I turn her back to the small vanity and shove her dress up around her waist. I lift her onto the counter, and she instinctively releases me and presses her hands against the wall on either side of her. Our kiss never breaking, I spread her knees apart and step between her legs. I can feel the heat pouring out of her core and it makes my cock twitch, but this moment is about her, about proving something to her. I kiss my way along the side of her neck and palm her breasts with both hands, brushing my thumbs over her stiff nipples. Before I crouch down to give her something I never give a woman, I look her straight in the eyes. “Violet, you’re not a game to me and there are no

rules.” She gasps. I slide my hands along her thighs, spreading her legs wider before I lower myself between them. I support her legs with my hands while I blow a long, slow puff of air on her wet lips. The muscles in her legs quiver, and her head bumps against the mirror behind her when I drag my tongue along her wet slit. “Oh God, Major,” she all but yells. I’m pretty sure all is forgiven, but she tastes so good I can’t stop. I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue until she’s about to writhe off the damn vanity. She smells like peaches and vanilla today instead of lavender, and her soft flesh against my lips is irresistible. I bury my face between her sexy fucking thighs and give her what she needs, licking and sucking until she screams my name. Ah, perfection. I stand up and take her in, flushed, lips parted, panting. Never has there been a more beautiful

woman, ever. I remove her stiff arms from the walls and place them around my neck and hold her. She begins to shake, and I think she’s crying, but when I pull her away from me, I see she’s laughing. “Something funny, Ms. Washington?” “I can’t believe you knew the words to that song,” she says, giggling. “I can’t believe you thought you were going to stand up there and sing it to me.” “You were an ass.” “You misinterpreted what I said. Again.” She bites her lip, and her laughing subsides. “I wonder if I took you home . . .” she sings softly. “Don’t you worry about a thing, baby, ‘cuz you know you got me by a string, baby,” I sing back. “Do I?” she asks. “You most certainly do.”

CHAPTER 10

VIOLET

And The Earth Shook Well, now I’m worthless. I may as well go back to the hotel. I can’t go out there and sing another Karaoke song after the Major just rendered me useless. That bathroom in the kitchen has seen some serious action the past couple of days. I wonder if he’s brought a lot of women back here? “How many women have you seduced in this crappy little bathroom?” I ask as he washes his

hands and face. “One.” “Just me?” “Yes, only you.” “Hmm . . . good.” I watch him smile at me in the mirror. He blows his hands dry, and we slip out of the bathroom back into the bar. My legs feel like jelly walking in these stilts after that mind-blowing O. As if he’s read my mind, he slides his arm around my waist to support me. Everyone congratulates us on our performance. No one can believe it was totally impromptu, but we assure everyone that it was. I feel like the whole table knows the Major just blew my mind in the bathroom with his tongue, but I’m probably just being paranoid. We were gone a while, though, and one person in particular noticed our absence. My mother.

“That was some performance up there. You two should start a show.” I roll my eyes and laugh it off. “We didn’t plan it or anything. It just happened.” “It’s always best that way. Where did you two go? You disappeared for quite a while there.” I cross my arms over my chest and purse my lips. “What? Can’t a mother wonder what her daughter’s been up to?” I shake my head back and forth and the Major leans around me, “She won’t kiss and tell, but I will. We were in the—” I gasp and clasp my hand over his mouth, cutting him off. “What do you think you’re doing?” I say. “He was about to tell me—” I cut Mom off too. “You two need to cool it. Mother, he’s right. I don’t kiss and tell.” I turn to the Major. “And if you

know what’s good for you, neither will you.” I feel him smile under my hand, and I give him a don’t you dare look before releasing him. “Sorry, Lilly. We don’t kiss and tell,” he says, and I smile and cross my arms over my chest. “Hey, I had to try,” she says, smiling over the rim of her glass. Something catches her eye behind me, and all at once, she’s lost interest. I follow her gaze out onto the dance floor, where a very handsome man about Mom’s age is dancing with what I hope to God is his daughter and not his date. “Mother?” “Yes, honey?” she answers without taking her eyes off the silver fox. “Be careful,” I say. “Says the girl who went home with a stranger last night and didn’t tell her mother she was leaving,” she says, standing up to go dance.

“Touché,” I say. “She’s right, you really should never go home with strangers,” the Major says and takes a swig of his drink while he scans the room. “Looking for something?” I ask. “No, I’ve got everything I need right here.” He slides his arm around my shoulder, hugging me close to kiss me on top of my head. I usually don’t care for public displays of affection, especially top of the head kisses. They always feel parental to me, but with the Major, it feels different. He makes me feel . . . cherished. I know it’s crazy after only one day, but it’s true. “Your mother is very confident, isn’t she?” “Yeah, I guess so. She’s been more extroverted since my father died. She didn’t used to be like this.” “She didn’t have to be, did she? She was happily married, I assume.”

“Yes. Yes, she was,” I say, watching my beautiful mother tap the silver fox on the shoulder. He turns to smile at her and they exchange a few words. She waves her hand in a little circle toward the young woman he’s dancing with and then motions to the bar. Silver fox nods and returns to dancing with the young woman. “I think she’s lonely. I think she misses Dad more than she lets on.” “I’m sure she does.” His words are so full of sadness, I almost ask if he’s lost someone close to him, but Kimber and Garcia return to the table, chattering about some crazy couple they saw making out on the bus stop bench outside. “What were you guys doing outside?” I ask. “Had to get some air. It’s hot as hell in here,” Garcia answers. “It’s hotter outside, isn’t it?” I ask before I realize that they were probably outside for something other than air.

“I think it’s pretty steamy in both places,” Kimber answers suggestively. She takes a long drink from her bottle of water and settles into the booth against Garcia. “You two seem very cozy,” I say, watching her snuggle under his arm like they’ve known each other forever. “Looks who’s talking.” Kimber laughs. Yeah, I guess she’s right. This has been the best vacation I’ve ever been on, and it wasn’t really even supposed to be a real vacation. I’m in the wedding party. I’ve been given jobs to do and responsibilities, and come to think of it, I haven’t thought about any of them since I met Major. “We have to go for a dress fitting tomorrow, don’t we?” I ask Kimber when I start ticking off my list of things to do this week in my head. “Yeah, at ten thirty, then lunch and golf. Belle and Mattie have us scheduled to do something every minute this week. I’m not going to make it to half of

those things. This girl’s gonna nap,” Kimber says. Garcia places his hand on her bump, and I almost spit out my drink. He’s pretty damn comfortable with Kimber’s pregnancy, and she doesn’t seem to mind at all. “You have to take care of yourself. Overdoing it isn’t good for you or the baby,” Garcia says. An ice cube from my Margarita slides down my throat. I lean forward and cough and sputter, but it’s defiantly going down the wrong way and it hurts. “Shit, Violet, you okay?” Major says, pounding me on the back. I work to catch my breath, and when I have it under control, I apologize. “Sorry, damn ice cubes are just the right size to choke on.” The Brittney Spears song being sung by two very drunk girls dressed like Japanese anime characters wraps up, and the DJ asks for the crowd’s attention. “As you all know, our Karaoke night is also a

contest, and we have a winner!” he yells so loudly I think something popped inside my head. I cringe, and Major pulls me close, protecting one ear with his chest and holding his hand over the other. He’s a very attentive man. He notices everything going on around him and he reads me well. I too make note of things happening around me. I love to people watch. Sometimes, I even think up little stories in my head to go along with what I’m seeing. Since I can’t hear very well all cocooned between Major’s chest and hand, I watch the two anime girls dressed in knee socks and baby doll skirts with Hello Kitty shirts. They’re falling all over each other giggling, trying to sing Hit Me Baby One More Time as they make their way back to their table. They look so innocent and sweet. It would be cool if they were undercover cops looking for that creep that Major threatened last night. He would approach them on the sidewalk at closing time and one would pull out some crazy martial arts moves while the other called for

backup. Or even better yet, one would pull out a samurai sword and wave it around, expertly cutting off snippets of his hair while the other waited to cuff him. I’m lost in my vivid imagination when Major releases my ear and I hear the crowd clapping and chanting. “Don’t phunk with my love, don’t phunk with my love.” “I guess we won,” he says, and I hear the DJ calling us up on stage. “Come on, let’s go. It’s time for our fifteen seconds of fame,” he says, pulling me up with him. I can’t believe we won a contest singing a song I pulled out of my ass because I was pissed at him. There are people on all sides of us as we make our way to the tiny stage. Major has his hand sprawled over the small of my back, guiding me when I feel a tremble. Everyone stops in his or her tracks and the whooping dulls to a murmur. It happens again, harder this time, vibrating the whole building. I can

hear glasses rattling and tables and chairs rumbling on the floor. We sway back and forth, gently at first and then with more force as the quake picks up force. I’ve been through a few earthquakes in my life here in California, but none as strong as this one. Major’s arm slides around my waist. He’s moving us into the area where the bar and the restaurant join in the foyer. Garcia’s already here with Kimber, and I catch the top of my mother’s head across the foyer. At least, I’m pretty sure it’s her head. Major has me turned to face the frame of the door, my palms against the wall and his body behind mine with his arms crossed over my head to protect me from falling debris if there happens to be any. A loud crash comes from somewhere in the main area of the restaurant, and a plume of dirt and dust rolls into the foyer. Panic builds in my chest when the shaking gets worse instead of better. I haven’t officially seen my mother or Taye since the shaking began.

“Can you see my mom or my brother?” I ask. Major shakes his head no, and dread consumes me. “How long’s this damn thing gonna last?” I say, knowing full well that he has no answer. “I saw your mother a few minutes ago, but not your brother. It should be over soon.” No sooner do the words leave his lips than the ground begins to calm. The clattering and groaning of furniture and equipment quiets, and the people fall silent, waiting to see if it’s over. “It’s over. Let’s get your family and friends together and get out of here before the aftershocks start,” he says. I’ve never been more grateful for someone to take charge of me in my life. “Stay in front of me. Everyone is going to be trying to do exactly what we are in a minute when they wrap their heads around what’s happened.” He’s guiding me toward the doors, and it’s getting hard to see through the layer of dust and dirt in the

air. I hear Major talking to a disembodied Garcia, and then my mother’s voice comes from behind me and relief spreads through my chest. Now if we can just find Taye and Belle and Mattie. Outside, it’s pitch black. The sun went down an hour ago, but the street lamps aren’t on so I can’t even see my hand in front of my face. “Oh, baby, I didn’t see you. Thank God you’re okay.” Mom’s arms circle me and she squeezes the breath from my lungs. “Where’s Taye, Mom?” “I don’t know. He went to get a drink at the bar before they announced the winner of the contest. My God, Vie, you don’t think something happened to him, do you?” She spins around to face the building and starts yelling for Taye. With our eyes adjusting to the dark, we can see just how extensive the damage is to the building we just escaped. There is an enormous crack in the restaurant wall that runs the entire height of the

building, essentially breaking it into two pieces. “Oh God,” she says covering her mouth. I look at the damage and then at Major. He knows what I’m thinking, and he doesn’t hesitate. “Stay here, don’t move,” he says. I nod and I reach out to take my mother’s hand. “Garcia,” Major calls out to Garcia, who is holding Kimber in his arms, consoling her. “Come on.” Major calls, and Garcia walks Kimber over to stand with us before he follows him. Garcia kisses Kimber on the cheek before taking off inside with Major. “He’s going to find Taye, Mom, don’t worry. He and Garcia are going to find them,” I say, trying to reassure both of us, but this place looks bad. Part of me wants to go in and help, but I know nothing about unstable buildings and aftershocks. “Are you guys okay?” Kimber asks. We both nod and quickly scan each other for injuries. When we

find nothing visible, I drop my eyes to her belly. “Everything okay in there?” I ask. She presses a hand to her middle, “Yeah, I think so. He’s moving.” Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “He? You know it’s a boy?” she asks. Kimber rubs comforting circles over her little boy, who is lucky to be nestled safe inside his mommy. “I just found out last week.” She hugs me, and we surge back to reality when an aftershock almost knocks us off our feet. We grab each other’s arms and wobble, holding on until it passes. I can hear crashing in the distance and horns honking. This is crazy. We need to find the others and get out of here. I don’t know where the hell I want to go. I’m sure the quake has effected the whole town and maybe more, but I have an overwhelming urge to flee . . . anywhere, maybe to Minnesota where Major is from, far away from the coast and the San Andreas fault line.

“I’m taking off these damn shoes. If there’s another one of those, I’m gonna break my neck when I fall off them,” Kimber says, unbuckling her shoes. “Be careful. There’s a lot of glass and debris on the ground,” I say. “I’ll stand right here until Julian comes back.” “Julian? Is that Garcia’s first name?” “Yeah, it’s cute, isn’t it?” Oh Lord, she’s got it bad for that Marine. I hope this wasn’t a bad idea. Pregnant women are so emotional, and I don’t want to see her get hurt again so soon. I’ve yet to run into that asshole, Caleb, and he’s damn lucky. I hope Garcia goes to the wedding with Kimber and puts his hands all over her sexy ass baby bump. Serves him right. “Watch your heart, Kimber. It’s fragile right now, ya know?” “I know. It’s just nice to have someone show me some attention.”

“Look!” Mom says, pointing at the door of the restaurant where Taye and Garcia are dragging Mattie along with his arms draped over their shoulders and his head lolling against his chest. “Oh, thank God, Taye, you’re okay,” Mom says, rushing to them. Kimber starts to move, and my arm shoots out to stop her. “No shoes, remember? Stay put.” She nods and covers her mouth with her hand when the guys lay Mattie down on the ground and start checking him over. “Where’s Major?” I ask when I realize he’s not with them. I kneel down and kiss Taye on his dusty cheek. He turns to me and brushes a tear off mine. “He’s getting Belle. She’s in bad shape, Vie. You need to find a doctor or call an ambulance or something. It took two of us to get Mattie out here, but he’s got a pulse. I’m not sure about Belle.”

My eyes leap to the door to search for them, and within seconds, Major is striding toward us carrying Belle, who is limp in his arms. Taye’s words bounce around in my head. Bad shape, ambulance, and no pulse. Fuck, where’s my phone? “Violet, go around and ask for a doctor,” Major says, laying her on the ground and checking for a pulse. I’m frozen. She can’t be dead. They’re getting married on Saturday. That’s why we’re all here . . . “Violet!” he yells and I jump. “Okay, I’m going,” I say, snapping to my senses. “Is there a doctor here? Hey, does anybody have any medical experience?” I yell and push my way through the little clumps of people gathering outside. Mom is yelling too. She sounds frantic— do I sound frantic? Maybe I should be more insistent. Belle could be dying.

“We need a doctor! A girl is dying over here, somebody please!” “I’m a doctor. Where is she?” A voice comes from a few feet away. “Over here by the entrance. Come quick. I don’t think she’s breathing” I say, turning to lead him to Belle and Mattie. When I can see our group again, Major’s doing chest compressions on Belle and Mattie’s moving his head back and forth, moaning. God, he’s doing CPR. That’s bad, very bad. “There, right there, hurry!” I yell and the doctor jogs around me, dropping to his knees on Belle’s other side. He feels for a pulse, gives her a breath and switches places with Major when he’s finished his round of compressions. I feel nails digging into my flesh, and when I look down, my mother is holding Taye’s hand and clutching my bicep with the other. She’s pale, or maybe it’s just the ashes and soot covering her

beautiful brown skin, or maybe both. She’s in shock. “Taye, you need to sit her down somewhere,” I say to my brother. “Come on, Mom, let’s go sit down over here. We won’t be far, just a couple of feet away,” Taye says in a soothing voice, leading her to sit on the bus stop bench on the sidewalk. I kneel down next to Garcia, who’s examining Mattie’s very obviously broken leg. “Is there anything I can do?” I ask. Mattie grabs my hand and squeezes it so hard I whimper. “Is she okay? Is Belle going to be all right? I tried to cover her, but the beam fell so fast, I couldn’t stop it—urgh!” He yells out midsentence when Garcia manipulates his broken leg. “What are you doing? You’re hurting him.”

“I’m a medic. His bone needed to be aligned. It’s broken clean through, and if the quake’s damage is extensive, we won’t be seeing a hospital anytime soon.” Mattie continues to yell out in pain, and I think one or more of my fingers are broken when I hear someone to my left say, I got a pulse. Oh God, thank you, Jesus, she’s alive. I look over at Belle. Major has stopped compressions and is talking with the doctor, who I now recognize as the silver fox Mom was drooling over earlier. “Mattie, she’s breathing, she’s alive,” I say, leaning down into his tortured face. “Do you hear me? She’s breathing.” His screams turn into loud groans as his head lolls to the side, seeing Belle a few feet away. “Move me over there. I need to be next to her,” he says between gritted teeth. “Man, we gotta keep you still. If we move this leg

wrong, you could lose it,” Garcia says. “Move me! I don’t give a fuck about my leg. Move me!” he yells. Garcia closes his eyes and shakes his head. “We really shouldn’t.” “Move him. I’ll help,” I say, placing my hands under his shoulders. “Stop, you’ll never budge him. Major!” Garcia yells. “I need some help over here.” Major sees me ready to drag Mattie across the parking lot and jumps to his feet. Striding toward us, he points a stern finger at me and then at Belle, indicating I should go to her. Major and Garcia move Mattie as carefully as they can and lay him next to Belle, who is still unconscious. Mattie reaches out to take her limp hand. “Belle, don’t you leave me, you hear me? Don’t you dare go anywhere. We’re getting married

Saturday. We have all these people here. You can’t disappoint them.” My heart breaks as I listen to him beg her to wake up. These two don’t deserve this. They’re both such good people. Mattie’s a fierce, independent Marine and Belle’s a sweet, compassionate veterinarian. “We have to get them to a hospital. There won’t be any ambulances available after a disaster like this. They’ve probably all been called out already,” Major says, and Dr. Silver Fox agrees. “We’re going to need two SUVs.” “No. I’m not leaving her. Take us both. I’ll sit in the back seat—whatever—just don’t separate us,” Mattie says. I look at Major and shrug. “What do we do? You have that big built-in thing in the back of yours.” “It comes out. I’ll go pull around. You stay with

them, Doc.” The doctor, who is carefully examining Mattie’s knee, nods absentmindedly. “Belle? She just squeezed my hand.” Mattie says, flinching when he tries to move to see her face. I kneel down next to her and place my hand on her cheek. “Belle, honey, can you hear me?” She moans, but her eyes are still closed. “Don’t move. You’ve been in an accident. We’re all here for you. Mattie is holding your hand. We’re going to get you to a hospital. Just be still. It’s going to be all right,” I say, and I say a silent prayer that I’m right. People around us begin to part and move away when Major pulls up next to Belle and Mattie. He jumps out and rounds the vehicle to the back, opening it and unlatching several levers until the built-in is free. He slides it out effortlessly and opens several of the drawers, snatching clean, pressed shirts.

“Let’s get her in first,” he says, spreading out the shirts in the back of the pristine SUV. I can’t help but wonder if he’s doing that to protect her from the floor or the floor from her. It’s a weird thing to be thinking at a time like this, but it’s a weird thing to be doing. Dr. Silver Fox and Major carefully lift Belle into the back, and Major wads up another shirt and places it under her head. Mattie is watching from the ground, wary of anyone taking off with his fiancé. People are starting to disperse when another smaller aftershock rumbles through the ground. This is unnerving. I haven’t had enough time to recover from the initial quake, and these aftershocks are shredding my nerves. The doctor crawls in by Belle’s feet and crouches down as Garcia closes the door. Then they work at getting Mattie into the back seat, standing him on his good leg and backing him up against the open door. Garcia runs around to the other side and

crawls across the back seat. Hooking his arms under Mattie’s, he pulls and Major steadies the leg. They hoist him in, and Mattie cries out in pain. Mom is crying—sobbing, really. Mattie is like a son to her. He and Taye have been best friends since they were in grade school. I look around for my brother and find him sitting with Kimber on the ground. I hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t helping with Mattie or Belle. “Mom, go make sure Taye and Kimber are okay. I’m going to get my car so we can follow them to the hospital.” She nods and shuffles toward them, and I call to Major and Garcia, asking them to wait a second so we can follow. “Just a minute,” Major says, jogging to me. “I’m walking you to your car. People are starting to realize what’s happening, and if they can’t get to their car, they might get pushy.”

He takes my hand and leads me right to my car. “How did you know where I was parked?” “Watched you walk in. The text, remember?” It feels like a lifetime ago that he sent me that naughty text. “Shit, I don’t have my purse. I left it inside,” I say, turning to the restaurant. The sound of my alarm echoes off the buildings, and I look back at Major, who’s holding my keys out for me to take. He also hands me my purse. “What the?” “I had it tucked in the back of my pants. You were going to leave it at the table when we got up.” I roll my eyes and kiss him chastely on the lips. “You’re a life saver. Literally.” “Yeah, so I’ve been told. Get in and lock the doors. I’ll walk along and guide you through the parking

lot until we get the others.” I get in and lock the doors. Major walks alongside me as I slowly ease the car down the street the short distance to our group. What a fucking nightmare. I grip my steering wheel, keeping one eye on Major while I turn up the radio, but it’s just static. Shit, that’s worrisome. How big was this damn earthquake? I crack my window and call to him, “Hey, there’s no radio reception. What do you think that means?” Major looks at me with unreadable eyes. “It means this is bad, Violet.” He points to where he wants me to drive my car. When I’ve pulled up next to his SUV, I unlock and hop out to help Mom and Kimber. Mom is still looking like shit. I ease Kimber off the ground and whisper to Taye, “Is mom okay?” “I don’t know, I’ve only seen her like this once, and that was when Dad died.”

“Maybe it’s like PTSD or something? Reliving tragedy?” Taye shrugs and helps Kimber into my car. “Mom, you need to get into the car now. We have to take Mattie and Belle to the hospital.” She looks at me with no affect, flat and completely expressionless. “Mom?” She still doesn’t respond, but she lets me lead her to the car, where I put her in the front seat and buckle her seatbelt because I’m not sure she’ll do it herself. “I’ll ride with Major since he doesn’t really know Mattie and Belle. Garcia can go with you,” Taye says, kissing me on the forehead. I watch him jog around Major’s car and get in. They begin to ease down the cracked street. It’s really hard to drive with people milling around and the serious damage to the roads. It looks like a

war zone with all the smoke and people with tattered clothing wandering aimlessly. A few people tap on the windows, asking for a ride. I want to stop and help them, but there’s only room for one more in my car, and I’m not comfortable picking up strangers. Especially when I have a pregnant woman in the back seat—not that anyone would dare mess with her with Garcia back there, but still. When we get far enough away from the beach, I expect Major to lead us toward the closest hospital, but he’s not going the right direction. “He should have turned back there. He’s not going the right way. What’s he doing?” I say out loud to no one in particular. I’m just voicing my frustrations. “He’s going to the base hospital,” Garcia says. “What? We can’t get on base without prior approval, and Belle’s not married to Mattie yet. She’s not considered a military dependent.”

I only know these things because I grew up on bases like Camp Pendleton all my life. It was a pain in the ass to have sleepovers and boyfriends. Everyone had to get approval to come onto the base, and a lot of boys weren’t into that kind of intimidation. I usually met my dates at the movie theatre or the mall. “It’s a natural disaster. Major has special clearance, and all of you have background files from your pasts, except doctor what’s his name and you, Kimber.” “No, actually, I just divorced a Marine. They should have something on me too.” I glance in the rearview mirror to see what Garcia thinks of this news. He’s surprised but doesn’t seem concerned. “I hope you don’t have any preconceived opinions about Marines. I’m a pretty good guy, ya know,” he says, lacing his fingers with Kimber’s. “No, I don’t think all Marines are douchebags. Just

Caleb,” she says, smiling up at him. “Is he stationed here?” Kimber nods a quick yes. “Is this his baby?” he says, placing his hand on her belly. “Yes. He doesn’t want kids though.” Frown lines cut deeply into his forehead, but doesn’t press her any further. He senses it’s painful for her to talk about. “Everybody have their driver’s license?” Garcia asks as we pull up to Camp Pendleton’s main gate. Everyone answers yes and starts to dig them out of pockets and purses. Mom is still quiet, but not quite as robotic. She retrieves her license and hands it to me, and Kimber and Garcia pass theirs up too. We crawl along behind Major, and I watch his window go down. The military policeman looks inside quickly and waves him through. When I pull

up, I expect a full questioning when I roll down my window, but he bends down and looks at my mother and then me and quickly glances at Garcia and Kimber in back. “Evening, Mrs. Washington. Follow Major Steele. He will lead you to the Naval Hospital.” “Thank you,” Mom says, and the MP straightens up to wave us through. “He recognized you, Mom,” I say. “Yes, your father was a legend here, and we spent a long time living on this base. The only reason he didn’t recognize you is because you’ve grown up so much since you went to college.” “That guy probably wasn’t even in the Corps when I went to college, Mom.” “True, you’re probably right.” The hospital isn’t far. Major pulls up to the emergency room entrance and we park in the garage directly across the street. Garcia helps

Kimber out and they start to walk toward the hospital, but I rest my hand on my mom’s shoulder before she gets out. “Mom, is everything okay? You seem a little out of it.” She looks out the window, avoiding eye contact with me. “I was in another earthquake a long time ago, and this has brought back some painful memories.” “You were?” “Yes, but now’s not the time to talk about it. We need to get inside and check on Mattie and Belle.” We sit in silence for a second. Whatever happened must have upset her a lot to make her so quiet about it. She opens her door first, and I follow. We make our way into the brightly lit hospital. It’s more modern than I remember. I think they must have remodeled since the last time I was here. The front of the building is all glass. One whole panel has cracked and fallen to the ground. Out front,

Marines are securing the area around the glass and holding people back. A beautiful open atrium just past the emergency area is also being heavily guarded, where a multilevel Plexiglas piece of artwork has fallen from the ceiling, breaking into several enormous colorful pieces. Taye is at the admitting desk giving them as much information as he can about Mattie and Belle. Mattie’s easy. All they need to do is pull him up in their computer system, but they have nothing about Belle. Garcia and Kimber are talking to another admitting clerk. He’s insisting they check her out and make sure the baby is all right. This Garcia guy is getting straight As from me in the caring boyfriend category. I settle my mom in a chair and walk to where Major is quietly standing with his hands in his pockets, staring out the window. “Hey.” “Hey,” he says, wrapping his arm around my waist

and pulling me close. “They took your friends to the trauma center. A building on base collapsed, and I know this place is packed, but they’ll be seen much faster here than if we had tried the civilian hospitals.” I rest my head against his chest. “Thank you for thinking of that. Are they saying anything about the earthquake?” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. “Yes, it was a six point five—lots of damage, buildings down, and they’ve already reported ten casualties.” “Oh my God,” I say, covering my heart with my hand. “What about your house? Is there someone you can call to check on your house?” “No, I don’t socialize with my neighbors. My housekeeper is the only other person with a key.” “Well call her, make sure she’s okay, and have her

go check for you.” “I’d rather not.” “Why?” “Let’s just make sure your friends are all right. I’ll worry about my house later.” He kisses me on the top of my head. “We should sit with my mom. She’s right over there.” “You go ahead. Take care of her. I’ll just stay here.” I step out of his grasp and look into his eyes. “You okay?” “Yes, I just don’t care for hospitals.” I chew on my lip and try to read what’s going on behind those big blue eyes, but he’s too good. I’ve got nothing. I stand up on my toes and softly kiss his lips before going to sit with my mom.

She’s been watching us, and she’s watching me approach now. “He’s a good catch. Don’t throw that one back, Vie.” “Well, I haven’t exactly caught him yet, we’ve only been out twice, and I did just meet him yesterday, Mom.” Whatever was bothering her seems to have disappeared as quickly as it came. She’s back to her pushy, sassy self. She flicks her hand away dismissively. “I fell in love with your daddy the moment I saw him at a movie theatre. I was on a date—a really crappy date. I looked over and saw your daddy paying for popcorn, and my heart skipped a beat. It actually skipped a beat. He was the most handsome man I’d ever set eyes on. He sensed me looking at him and turned to look at me. What I saw in his eyes was so captivating, I just walked away from my date.” “What? You never told me that story. You just

ditched your date for Dad?” “Yep, never said a word. It was like he cast a spell on me and reeled me right in with a magic fishing line.” “What did you say to him?” “I said hey, and he said hey, and he handed me a box of popcorn, took my hand, and led me into the theatre.” “Just hey? That’s it, and you guys were on a date?” “Yep, he never let go of my hand during the movie, he drove me home and kissed me goodnight, and the rest is history.” “Wow, why didn’t you ever tell me that story before?” “Because I know that kind of love doesn’t happen very often, and I didn’t want you to expect it to happen that way.” “You should have. I probably would have avoided

a lot of shitty relationships if I thought it was supposed to be so easy and romantic.” “I’m sorry, honey.” “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me now.” I look over at Major. He hasn’t moved a muscle. “So, what do you think? Is he a keeper?” she asks. “Maybe. He seems to have some issues, but he’s kind and caring and smart—” “And good in bed,” she says with a wink. “Yeah, definitely good in bed.” “That’s really important, you know,” she says with a stern look. I laugh, “Yeah, Mom. So you’ve always told me.” I slide my hand over hers on the shared arm of the uncomfortable metal waiting room chair and look at Major. It wasn’t love at first sight with him. Hardly. More like supreme irritation at first crash,

but he’s grown on me a lot. There is something about him that I can’t quite put my finger on though. Something just below the surface like a warning bell or caution tape that says Do not enter or Proceed at your own risk. “Mom?” “Yes, Violet?” “What happened in the other earthquake?” I can feel her stiffen next to me, and she slides her hand out from under mine. “I never told you, but when your father and I first met, I got pregnant right away. We were careless, and he didn’t think he could get anyone pregnant. Anyway, I was about two months along when I figured it out. I told him, and he was over the moon. He already had a ring and he was going to ask me to marry him, so the pregnancy just sealed the deal. And then we had an earthquake. I was carrying laundry downstairs when it hit, and I fell.”

She takes a deep breath in and blows it out. “Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry.” I reach for her hand again, and she turns to me, her eyes brimming with tears. “It’s all right. it was a long time ago. I haven’t thought about it in years, but tonight just brought back some old feelings. We went on to have you and your brother. We were blessed in so many ways, and I had a lot of wonderful years with him. I can’t complain.” I hug her tight. It’s strange to realize that my parents had secrets. Taye and I thought we knew everything about our parents. Mom untangles herself from my arms after our brief embrace and stands up. “I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” “Okay.” The television in the waiting room is showing coverage of the damage in the city and surrounding areas. Thirteen deaths so far and hundreds injured.

This is awful. “Garcia took Kimber back to see a doctor. Her baby is fine,” Major says from behind my chair, startling me. “Oh, good. I’m glad he insisted on having her seen.” Especially after hearing my mom’s story just now. “Your mother looked upset. Is she okay?” “Yeah, she had a bad experience with an earthquake in the past. She’s all right though. Have a seat,” I say, patting the chair next to me. “No, that’s okay. I’ll stand.” “Why?” “Why what?” “Why won’t you sit? You’ve been running around for a couple of hours helping everyone. You should rest.”

“I don’t like hospitals,” he says, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets. “Nobody likes hospitals, Major. Sit,” I say again. “No,” he says, avoiding my eyes. “Is it because of the germs?” This captures his attention. “What do you mean by that?” “It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I mean, do you dislike hospitals because of the germs?” “Nobody likes germs, Violet,” he says, throwing my logic back in my face. I roll my eyes and sigh. “Let’s go out and sit in my car then. You need to rest,” I say. He extends his hand to me just as Garcia, Kimber, and my mother return to the waiting room. “Oh, Kimber, I’m so glad everything’s okay,” I say,

hugging her. “And thank you for insisting she be seen, Garcia.” “Has anyone heard anything about Mattie or Belle? Oh my gosh, has anyone called their parents? I didn’t even think to do that.” “The hospital called Mattie’s mom and dad, but they don’t have Belle’s information,” Garcia says. “I’ll call her mother,” I say, taking my phone from my purse. “It’s dead, damn it.” “We can charge it in your car,” Major says. “Oh, good idea. Are you guys staying?” I ask Garcia and Kimber. “We sort of have to. You’re our ride,” Kimber says. “Oh yeah, well we could try to run you back to the hotel, Kimber but I don’t know what kind of traffic we’re going to run into or what condition the hotel is in.”

“You can just bring her to my house. It’s close and I already called. There’s no damage,” Garcia says. I tip my chin down and lift my brows. “Impressive, Garcia. You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” “Always.” “Is that okay with you, Kimber?” I ask. “Yeah, sure. Will you let me know what’s going on at the hotel though? If I hear something first, I’ll call you too.” “Of course. Mom, are you staying here?” “Yes, I can’t leave Mattie. You go ahead. I’ll be fine here until you get back.” I kiss my mom on the cheek and we head outside to the parking garage. Major’s SUV is still parked in front of the ER entrance. He suggests we take his car since it’s bigger. All four of us pile in, and he points at a phone charger. Thankfully, we have the same phone.

I plug it in and wait for it to charge enough to make a call and dial Belle’s mother, Marjorie. She’s hysterical, and rightly so. She got a ride back to the hotel from the restaurant, thinking that Belle and Mattie would have gone back there when she couldn’t find them. But the hotel had sustained serious damage, and nobody there had seen Belle. I gave her directions and reminded her that it’s a Naval hospital on base and she needs to have identification to get in. I hope she was paying attention, but I doubt it. I could hardly understand her between sobs and cellphone interference. The damage to the roads is random. Some are fine, others are complete rubble. We make it to Garcia’s house, and just as he said, there is no visible damage. We let them out and promise to keep them updated on Mattie and Belle. I watch them until they’re inside his cozy bungalow. I like the way they look together. “Do you mind if we check on my house before we go back since we’re so close?”

“Of course not. Let me text Mom and let her know we made it to Garcia’s.” We drive in silence after I send Mom a text . Halfway to his house, he slides his hand over my bare leg and squeezes it. It feels like he’s nervous, maybe worried about the condition of his house? When we turn off the main road onto his street, it’s pitch black dark. The main road has a few traffic lights still working, but the residential streets and houses are all dark. He drives slowly with his bright lights on, counting each driveway as it comes into view until he reaches eleven. He turns into his drive, and his grip on my thigh relaxes. It looks fine as far as we can tell with our limited field of vision. “Do you mind if we go in?” “No, I figured we would.” He opens the garage door, and it lifts automatically, so the house must still have power.

When he pulls inside, everything still looks okay. A few things have shifted out of place and fallen onto the ground, but there’s no structural damage. Major takes a few minutes to replace the wayward rakes and shovels before going inside. Inside appears to be in order as well. There isn’t really anything that could have fallen, no knickknacks on shelves or crooked pictures. He straightens a vase in the foyer that looked perfectly fine to me before deeming the house satisfactory overall. On the way back to the hospital, he fidgets in his seat and adjusts his seatbelt several times. “You okay?” “Yes.” “You seem a little nervous.” “I’m not nervous,” he says, but he sounds offended. He’s quiet for a couple of miles. I keep looking at him out of the corner of my eye, checking on him.

He is so nervous. I don’t care what he says. His mouth his body language speak volumes. We turn into the hospital parking garage, and he shuts off the engine. “I think you and your mother should come and stay with me. The hotel isn’t habitable. I had it checked out, and it’s not safe. We can go by and see if they’re able to get any of your things, but it’s been closed for business until further notice.” I turn in my seat and pull my knee up so I can look directly at him. “How did you find all of that out? And when?” “I texted a friend of mine who works in security at your hotel.” “I don’t think you really want us staying with you.” I have to say it. He’s obviously been stewing about this since we left his house. I’m no psychiatrist, but I’ve pretty much diagnosed Major with OCD. “I just extended you an invitation, didn’t I?”

“Yes, after miles of adjusting your seatbelt and trying to get comfortable in your own car. Major, it’s okay. We can find another hotel. Actually, I’m sure the wedding’s going to be postponed, if not because of the earthquake, then Mattie’s and Belle’s condition. We’ll probably go home tomorrow.” “Violet, I want you and your mother to stay with me. I have no reservations about it. You may be going home tomorrow or the next day, but you’ll need somewhere to stay until then, and it only makes sense that you both stay with me.” For the first time since I met him, I can read emotion on his face. His blank, flat affectation is gone and tension is vibrating in his eyes. He is being very stubborn about this, however, so I accept his invitation. “Okay, if my mom will come, I will too, but I’m pretty sure we will be going home tomorrow.” “Fine.”

“Fine.”

CHAPTER 11

MAJOR

Who’s the boss? This is so not fine. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I’ve never had anyone over to visit, let alone houseguests to stay the night—or two nights, or however long they need to stay. Six years I’ve lived here, and no one other than maintenance people and my housekeeper, Edith, have stepped foot inside until this weekend. But I needed to know they were safe. I didn’t have a

choice, so now I have two people in my house, touching my things, using my bathroom, and eating in my kitchen. I can’t concentrate. I’ve been pacing the floor in my bedroom since we got home this morning. Standing in that hospital, where I spent so many days waiting to see if Katie would pull through, was awful, but being home and having people inhabiting my sanctuary is worse. Violet is in my shower, and her mother is downstairs sleeping on my couch. I rub the back of my neck and stretch it out, trying to relieve the tension there. Katie used to tell me I looked like a pelican trying to swallow a fish when I stretched like this. She teased me all the time about my idiosyncrasies, but she loved me despite them. She couldn’t comprehend my strong sense of organization or my need to make lists so that things would be done properly. I told her it’s the Marine in me, but she would just shake her head as if she knew better.

We had our fights. I would flip out if she moved something unexpectedly or if she didn’t replace something before it ran out. I hate that. I keep four of everything in my house so that when it runs out, there’s another ready to replace it. Soap, toothpaste, condiments, fabric softener. Everything is stocked at least four deep. I like lists. I make them for everything that I do. But once in a while, my Katie would add things to one of my lists in her handwriting, which is nothing like my handwriting, ruining my list. I would have to throw it away and start over, and it pissed me off. Probably more than it should have. I would yell at her, and she would yell at me, and then she would go into the bedroom and cry. That made me even angrier, and then later on, when her eyes were puffy and she would be cooking my dinner, keeping every box and every bottle in straight lines on the counter and cleaning up every splatter or drip as she went, I would feel like a complete asshole. It was a vicious circle of madness, and she was a saint to put up with me. I

vowed never to subject another woman to my eccentricity, and now here I am having . . . I don’t know what I’m having with Violet. Feelings. That’s what I’m having, but I’m not going to label them. It’s pointless anyway. She’s going home to San Diego tomorrow, and we might never see each other again. It makes my chest ache when I think of that, of never seeing my sexy Target girl again, but it’s for the best. I don’t want to ruin her life the way I did my Katie’s. The shower shut off, she’ll be here in seconds, her cocoa brown skin wet with droplets of water trailing down her body . . . onto my floor. Fuck, see, Sawyer? You can’t even have an erotic thought about her without turning it into a cleaning session. “You look like an animal stretching its neck. You okay?” she asks, exiting the bathroom exactly the way I just envisioned her minus the dripping on the floor. She’s dry and glowing.

“Somebody else used to say that to me,” I say, more than a little spooked. She unconsciously pulls her towel a little tighter around her chest and steps back in fear. What makes this woman fear me? I’ve never given her reason to shrink away from me. “Violet, are you afraid of me?” I ask. She screws up her face. “No, what makes you say that? Is that what you’re out here worrying about?” I sit down on the edge of the bed and motion for her to come closer to me. She approaches slowly, with a bit of hesitance. “Because you’re clutching that towel like a life preserver, and you stepped away from me just now when I spoke to you.” She’s standing between my legs now. My hands are on her ass, holding her in place. She won’t look me in the eye. She’s focusing on something over my shoulder. I take her chin between my thumb and

forefinger and turn her lovely, fresh, lavender smelling face to mine. “Tell me,” I say gently. “I just feel like we’re intruding on your space, and I’m gathering that your space is a very important part of your life.” I look away from her eyes and focus on the space between our bodies, taking a deep breath. “You’re correct. It is, but your comfort and safety are more important. I want you here. I would be twice as anxious if I didn’t know where you were or if you were safe. Buildings are unstable after earthquakes. They may look fine externally, but internally, there can be severe damage.” I think about the way that comment relates to my life while she snuggles against my chest. I put on a good front externally, an excellent one actually. The world believes I’m a hard ass Marine who has his shit together and doesn’t give a fuck about anyone. That’s how I’ve portrayed myself, but

inside, I’m tortured by the need to control all things in my life—people, objects, situations. Everything. And truth be told, I’m lonely. Fucking random women is fine if you’re just looking to get off, and I thought that’s what I wanted. No woman will ever fill the hole Katie left in my chest. Or so I thought. “Are you hungry? I can try to make something quietly without waking your mother.” “No thank you. My stomach is in knots after everything that’s happened tonight.” “What can I do for you then?” “Nothing. Why don’t you let me help you?” she says, lowering her eyes to my lap. “Yeah? You sure you’re up for that? I thought you’d be exhausted.” “I am, but making you feel good is more important to me right now.” She winks at me and starts unbuttoning my pants and tugging down the zipper.

I’m hard for her, but when am I not? She takes a step away from me and tries to pull me up. It’s a funny sight to see this tiny woman trying to help me stand. She pushes out her bottom lip and pouts when she can’t make me budge. I stand and tower over her while she works my pants off. She tries to take control of the moment again by pushing me down onto the bed. She’s not a quitter. I’ll give her that. I let her do it and fall onto the mattress. I watch her continue to unbutton my shirt. She stops and lifts her eyes to my lips after the third button. She slowly blinks her lush lashes and dips to kiss me softly on the chest at the opening of my shirt before unbuttoning the forth and fifth. Her eyes find mine again. There is so much open, honest vulnerability there. It makes me want to rip her towel off and ravish her, but I let her lead the way . . . for now. Her lips follow her fingers down my chest until my

shirt is open. Her mouth is dangerously close to the tip of my twitching cock when she straightens up and makes a show of pushing my shirt off my shoulders. When I’m naked with my cock pointing straight at her, she drops her towel. I lean back on my hands to show her I’m all hers to do with as she pleases. Control is my forte, but Violet’s willingness to take the reins is irresistible and she doesn’t disappoint. She reaches out and strokes my shaft from root to head. “Want me to talk dirty to you, Major?” “Mmmhmm,” is about all I can muster. She’s going to end this before it begins with her sexy fucking voice if she’s not careful. “You have the biggest cock I’ve ever seen.” She bends to swirl her tongue on the head of the biggest fucking cock she’s ever seen, and I moan. “I’m going to take you all the way in my mouth. I’m going to suck you so hard until you hit the back of

my throat, and I’m going to love it.” And she does. Her full, soft lips cover my cock, and it slides across her tongue and, just as promised, I bump the back of her throat. She sucks hard and drags her mouth along my rock hard length and swirls her tongue over the head. “Fuck, Violet . . .” “You like that? Want more?” She teases my head with her tongue, and that’s it. Her sultry, dirty mouth just started a storm, and like lightning, I snatch her forward and roll her onto her back on the bed. I tried it her way. I enjoyed it, actually, but we’re doing it my way now. I’m taking the control back. “You think you have a dirty mouth, do you?” I say, hovering over her and pinning her crossed wrists over her head with one hand. The corner of her mouth lifts in a wicked, sexy smile and she nods her head up and down.

“I like what you do with that dirty fucking mouth of yours. I like it so much that I may fuck it again later, but right now, I want to know something, Target girl.” “What’s that, Major?” “How wet are you for me?” She squirms under me, aligning our bodies so she can show me, but I want to hear her say it. “Uh, uh, uh,” I say, shaking my head back and forth. “Tell me.” She wiggles her hands, and I free one of them. She slides it between her breasts and down her flat belly between our hot bodies and between her legs. When she touches herself her breath hitches, and I’m fast approaching the end of my short-lived control. She brings her glistening wet fingers to my lips and slides them into my mouth. “That’s how wet I am for you, Major.”

I slide my cock between her folds and circle my hips, rubbing my head against her clit. “Are you ready?” “Oh God, yes, please,” she moans, thrusting her hips upward. I’m right there. One more move and I’m inside her. “Vie, I want to feel you. I don’t want anything between us. Are you on the pill?” I ask. I’m so fucking out of my mind to feel her around me right now, I’d probably risk it even if she weren’t. “Yeah, for ten years.” Perfect. I blow out a breath and slide deep into her. We both cry out, and I remember her mother is sleeping right downstairs, so I cover her mouth with my hand that was holding her wrist and use the other for leverage against the mattress. I can feel her mouth curve into a smile under my hand, and her eyes sparkle right before she licks

me. I move my hand away, and she half-laughs, half-groans when I push in balls deep. She clenches around me as I pump in and out of her, feeling flesh against flesh with nothing separating us. It feels so good. I know I’m close, and from the way her eyes just rolled back into her head and her entire body just arched off the bed, she’s milliseconds from release, but I don’t want this to end yet. It’s too perfect, too passionate, too late. We explode simultaneously, yelling indecipherable words and grunts. I have no doubt Lilly is awake now. Hell we probably just scared the neighbors next door awake too. I still inside her, basking in the post-orgasmic pulsing of my cock. Going bare is so fucking amazing. I haven’t had sex without a condom since I was married. I forgot how much more sensitive it is, how it feels to empty inside of a woman instead of a piece of latex. I roll onto my back, taking her with me without separating. I’ll be ready to go again soon. I can feel it.

She kisses me on my mouth and sits up straddling me, pushing my semi-erect cock deeper inside her. She leans back a little, pressing her perfect round ass against my thighs, and I raise my arms up and lace my fingers together behind my head to admire her. “You think we woke my mom?” I wink when she looks worried. “I think we woke the whole neighborhood,” I say, lifting one corner of my mouth in a smirk. “Shit, my mom’s the type who would come up here and feign concern just to find out what’s happening, even when she knows exactly what’s happening.” She looks around as if she’s trying to find something to cover us with. “Don’t worry. If she comes up here, she will be sadly disappointed. The door is locked.” She relaxes and leans forward, placing her palms flat on my abs. I should pull her down to reassure

her, but she’s too damn gorgeous. I want to look at her. “You’re so beautiful, Violet. Sit up and push your hair behind your shoulders.” She chews on the inside of her mouth for a second, and a little pucker appears between her brows, but she does what I ask. Sitting up, she scoops her hair up and twists it into a messy knot on top of her head with a rubber band she had on her wrist. Now I can see all of her. “Much better.” She squirms under my stare, but I can’t help it. I could lay here and look at her all night. I love the curve in her neck, her pecan colored silky skin, the dip in her throat that I kiss when I’m trailing kisses down her neck and across her collarbone. I like how she gets goosebumps every time I press my lips against that dip. I love watching her breasts rise and fall with every heave of her breath when I’m moving in and out of her. I love the way my

hands look around her waist and when I slide them down over the curve of her hips. I eye the pretty little piercing on her flat belly when it sparkles in the soft light of the lamp on my night table. “Is this your birthstone?” I ask, moving my hand out from under my head to fiddle with the piece of jewelry. “Yes, Ruby.” “So you’re born in July. What day?” I ask because I too am born in July, and what a strange coincidence it would be if we had the same birthday. I checked the year she was born on her driver’s license, but not the day or month. “July 26th.” “No way?” I say. She shrugs, and that small movement of her body has me hardening inside her. “Why?” she asks, bending down to lay her head on

my chest. She’s got to be exhausted, but I’m not done with her. If I can keep her busy all night, she might be too tired to drive all the way to San Diego tomorrow and she’ll have to stay another night. “Because I’m born in July too.” “Really, what day?” she asks. “July 26th.” She lifts up, and the knot of hair on her head bobs forward. “We share a birthday?” “Yep, guess so.” “Hmm,” she says, pursing her lips together and looking thoughtful. “What’s the hmm for?” I ask. “Two Leos. Who’s going to wear the crown?” “What crown?”

“Leo is the sign of royalty. If we’re both royal, who will be the boss?” “That’s easy, me.” She laughs and kisses me on the mouth, kindling the fire that’s still smoldering from our last go round. “You are a little bossy. I’ll give you, that but it doesn’t make you the boss.” “Are royal Leos also known for their sassy mouths and argumentative natures?” “Maybe. You should really brush up on your astrology, Major.” I grab her around the waist and flip her onto her back pinning her arms against the mattress. “Whoa!” She laughs. “I don’t need astrology to know I’m the boss,” I say, moving close to her face until our foreheads are touching.

Her eyes narrow. “Prove it,” she says, thrusting her hips. That little challenge is all it takes. I’m fully hard again and about to prove to this woman that the Marine Corps didn’t give me the title of Major for nothing. She’s surprised when I slide out of her, and she whimpers. I press a finger on her lips. “No noise.” I back off the bed and go to into my closet to put on a robe. When I come out, she’s sitting up crosslegged in the middle of the bed, looking confused. “I’ll be right back. Stay there.” “Major, wait, what about my mother?” “What about her?” She glances down at the bulge in my robe and back to my face. “She can’t see you like that.” “Relax, Violet. I’m very quiet. She’ll never know I’m there.”

“Where? Where are you going?” she asks in a panic, but I don’t respond. I unlock the door and leave, closing it without making a sound. I hear her curse, and I chuckle as I make my way silently down the stairs and through the house to the garage. Lilly is sound asleep on the couch when I walk through the living room. None of her belongings are laying out. Everything is exactly the way I keep it other than her duffle bag on the floor next to the couch. Hmm, a fellow neat freak. That’s very convenient. In the garage, I open a tiny drawer on the workbench and remove a key that unlocks a drawer under the workbench. It’s a large, shallow drawer with no handle. You’d never know it was there unless you looked closely and saw the keyhole. I slide it open and remove a silky blue length of rope. I close the drawer, lock it, and replace the key. When I turn to go back inside the house, Lilly is standing in the door, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest, eyeing the rope in my hand.

“I may seem very liberal and nonchalant about sex and men, Major Steele, but if you hurt my daughter, believe me, my face will be one you’ll wish you could forget.” “I have no intention of hurting Violet, Lilly.” “Maybe so, but even the best intentions go bad sometimes.” “I understand your concern, but I assure you I’m not going to hurt her in any way,” I say, and she eyes the rope again. She doesn’t say another word. She just pushes off the frame and turns to walk back down the dark hall to my living room. I turn off the lights and follow her. She’s back on the couch, in the same position as when I came downstairs, eyes shut. It’s almost like she was never awake, like the brief meeting of the minds that just happened in my garage never occurred. Upstairs, Violet is still in bed, but she’s pulled down the comforter and moved the throw pillows

onto my chair. I wonder if she remembered that’s where I like them or if it was coincidental that she put them in the same place that I did last night. She is lying on her side, facing the center of the bed, with her palms pressed together under her cheek. I go to the closet to hang up my robe and lock the bedroom door on the way back to bed with the rope. “I talked to your mother.” “I knew she would be awake. God, what did she say?” I hold up the rope. “She said not to hurt you or I’ll regret it.” She raises her eyebrows high, and her pretty mouth falls open. “I told her that would never happen.” “Then what’s with the rope?” “Lay on your stomach, and I’ll show you.”

After a moment of thought, she slowly rolls onto her stomach and hugs the pillow. I pull the comforter and sheet down, folding it neatly at the end of the bed, and she shivers. “Cold?” I say, moving to the foot of the bed. She lifts her head, trying to follow me. “A little.” “Relax. I’ll warm you up.” “What are you doing?” she asks. “Tying you up,” I say and crawl up the bed, straddling her ass. “Were you planning on asking me if you could do that?” “Nope.” “So this is happening against my will?” I lean forward and take her arms out from under the pillow and whisper into her ear, “I don’t know, is

it?” “No.” “No, it’s not against your will, or no, it’s not happening?” “It’s not against my will,” she says, relaxing her arms. “Good girl.” I place her wrists behind her and let the rope unfurl onto her skin. She inhales a sharp breath, and I lean forward to kiss the small of her back. “Relax. Do you trust me, Violet?” “Yes,” she says on an exhale. I lay the rope over her wrists and pass it back and forth, making a cuff of rope five or six inches wide before looping in under and back to tie a loose knot. I slide my fingers between the rope and her skin to be sure it’s not cutting off circulation.

“Is this okay?” “Mm hmm.” I love how the rope looks against her skin. I reach up and grab my pillow and fold it in half. I slide my arm under her waist, lift her up, and push it under her stomach. “You look so fucking sexy like this,” I say, trailing my fingers over the curve of her ass and down her thigh. “Are you comfortable?” She’s breathing hard now. The muscles in her upper back flex with every breath she takes. “Yes.” I sit back on my heels and admire my work. She would look so good tied up with intricate knots and patterns, but I don’t want to push her too far tonight. I slide my hands up her thighs and palm her ass cheeks, spreading her open wide. I dip my fingers into her wet core and spread it up and down her seam, and she lifts up higher onto her

knees. I take advantage of the position and lean in to lick her, holding her in place with my hands on her ass. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” I hear her chanting over and over as I kiss and suck and stroke. She’s trembling when I slide my tongue over the pucker of her ass, sending her into orbit. Her body writhes and convulses, and she turns her face into the mattress when she screams my name. I rise onto my knees and slide into her while she’s still pulsing with her orgasm and begin to work her up for another. With my hands spread over her ass, I massage her slit and watch my cock slide in and out of her. The sound of our bodies and her muffled moans echo in the room, and I wish I could record it and listen to it later. I’m close, and I can feel her building again, nearing that place between reality and ecstasy. “Who’s the boss, Violet?” “You are, Major, you are,” she cries as she comes

for the third time tonight. Four more thrusts, and I’m exploding inside her, biting my lip to keep from yelling. ‘Fuck, Vie, you feel so good.” She collapses forward, and I go with her, being careful not to put all my weight on her. When we have both come down from our orgasmic high, I rise and pull the rope, loosening the knot. When the loops are loose enough, she starts to wiggle her fingers and I slip the rope off her wrists. We fall onto our sides facing each other, and I glance at the clock on the bedside table that seems like it’s ticking louder than usual. It’s late, she’s worn out, and I just want to hold her. “Spoon, and then a bath,” I say. “Yes, sir,” she says, saluting me playfully. “I like the sound of that.” “Don’t get too used to it.”

CHAPTER 12

VIOLET

Seductive Fuckery I knew what he was doing and it worked. I’m beyond exhausted. Every muscle in my body aches and my joints feel unhinged, but I wouldn’t change a second of our night together. Mom and I talked about going home today if the roads were all clear, but I’m pretty sure I’d be worthless on the road and she doesn’t like to drive long distances. So that leaves me tangled in

Major’s sheets, too tired to get up and tell my mother I’m too tired to get up. When I reach out to get my phone, Major’s arms tighten around me. We never made it past spooning last night. We talked for a couple of hours, slept for an hour, and made love again and again. I lost count of my orgasms after six. It seemed pointless to keep track when no man will ever come close to beating him. When we finally did decide enough is enough, the birds were singing outside and I could hear the distant sound of a lawnmower starting up. “What are you doing?” His voice is muffled in my hair and gravelly from lack of sleep. “I was going to text my mother and tell her that I can’t get out of bed and she needs to find something to do today.” His head pops up. “In my house?” “Well, that is where she is, isn’t it? I mean, you

were the last one to see her.” He groans and rolls away from me onto his back. “You didn’t think about that when you were wearing me out last night, did you?” I turn onto my stomach and prop up on my elbows to look at him. His arm is thrown over his eyes, and he sighs. “No. I did not. We can’t leave your mother down there with nothing to do, and I need to get over to base, and I’m sure you want to go to the hospital and check on your friends.” I slide my arms out in front of me and face plant into the pillow. He’s right. He has to work and I need to see how Mattie and Belle are doing, but I’m so tired. I turn my head to the side so I can speak. My hair is covering my face and my arm is stretched out, so I talk under my armpit. “How about we sleep for a couple of hours and

then go to the hospital? It’s still early, isn’t it?” I ask with desperation in my voice. “It’s already eight o’clock. We should get going. And, Violet?” “Hmm?” “You’re adorable when you’re tired,” he says, moving my hair out of my face. I’m probably a wreck, with swollen lips and bags under my eyes, which is far from adorable. “You’re just being nice so I’ll get out of your bed.” “If I had it my way, you’d never leave my bed,” he says, leaning in to kiss the only part of my face showing—my forehead. “Nice save.” “Thank you.” “We don’t have time for a bath now. We’ll have to shower. I’ve gotten over a dozen calls and texts from the base.”

“Oh my God, why didn’t you say something? We would have been all right by ourselves here.” His flirtatious blue eyes suddenly turn dark and serious. He doesn’t want us here alone. He doesn’t want anyone in his house period. “It’s all right, I told them I had a family emergency because of the earthquake. I’ve handled everything I can from here, though, so I need to go in.” “So I’m a family emergency?” “Something like that.” His voice isn’t so strained and his jaw is relaxed. Tense moment avoided, thank God. “My mom’s probably already up. She doesn’t sleep well away from home.” “Then we will make it quick,” he says, smacking my ass. “Oh!” I yelp. “What’s that for?” “For doubting that I’m the boss.” He winks and

bounds out of bed like he’s had a full ten hours of sleep. I roll over on my back and flop my arms out to my sides. “You win. You wore me down. You’re the boss, and I’m not going home today. Happy now?” He pokes his head out of the bathroom door with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Very.” “Now come and let me take care of you,” he says, crooking his finger toward himself. “I think you’ve taken care of me plenty. I’m not sure I can even stand up.” He crosses the bedroom and scoops me up, throwing me over his shoulder, and carries me into his shower. He turns it on with me still over his shoulder, kicking and laughing. The shower is big. It must be custom, because I’ve never seen such a big shower in a house this size. He slides me down to sit me on the bench while the water warms.

“I’ll be back,” he says, leaving me alone. He’s gone for a while. I’m shivering, so I step under the hot spray of water and let it pound into my sore, well-worked muscles. He’s taking forever, so I shampoo my hair and wash my body. Still no Major. I leave the water running and step out. There are two big, fluffy towels folded on the counter. I use one to dry my hair and wrap it around my body. I hear him talking on the phone. Work must have pulled him away, so I shut off the water. The bathroom door is halfopen and Major is sitting on his bed talking quietly. I’m about to close it all the way, and I don’t consider myself to be an eavesdropper, but his words catch my attention. “No, sweetheart, it’s not like that. Really, it’s nothing.” He pauses to listen to the person on the other end of the line. “Sabrina, I do, but listen, I don’t know what to say.

It’s hard to explain.” “I’m sorry. I haven’t had time, but after tomorrow I will. Let me take you to dinner Saturday night to make up for it?” He pauses again to listen to the caller. “All right, I’ll see you Saturday. I love you too. Goodbye.” I white knuckle the doorknob and catch my shocked reflection in the mirror. No. Why? Why would he do this? I was just in this for a one-night stand. He could have left it at that, but he sucked me in and tempted my heart, and now I learn he has someone else. Perfect, just perfect. Tears prick at the back of my eyes. I’m tired and stressed, and now I think I may be fucking heartbroken on top of it all. He could have been talking to a family member. Aunt Sabrina? Cousin Sabrina? Maybe I’m overreacting? No, Major doesn’t seem the type to call just anyone sweetheart, unless she’s a girlfriend, and I love you? What the hell?

I should just come out and ask him about it. I’m an up front, no bullshit kind of woman. But part of me doesn’t want to hear the truth. I have feelings for him, real feelings, more feelings than I’ve ever had for any man. Hearing him admit he has another woman in his life would be too painful. And apparently, according to his half of that conversation, I’ll be a moot point after tomorrow anyway, so why bother? I tip my head back and blink while I fan my eyes to keep from crying. I’ll save that for later. I’m going home today. I can’t spend another night with this man who is fatally manipulating my heart. I thought I finally found the man who would put an end to my jerk magnet curse, but turns out, he’s the worst jerk yet.

I POPPED MY CONTACTS IN, braided my wet hair and dressed before Major made it back into the bathroom. He was surprised I hadn’t waited for him until he realized the time. He mistook my

desire to escape his presence for good time management, thinking that I was anxious to see my injured friends. I do want to see my friends, but after overhearing his conversation, all I want to do is make a run for it. When he finished getting ready and Mom was all packed up, I quietly asked her to put our bags in the car. Her expression was serious and questioning, but she didn’t probe. She knows she’ll have the whole drive home to do that. We pull into the circle drive in front of the main entrance of the Naval Hospital. Mom gets out and politely thanks him for his hospitality. “I’ll be in my office for a while. You can call me when you’re ready to go home, and I’ll swing by and pick you both up. We can stop for dinner on our way back.” The back of the SUV opens, and a streak of sunlight pierces the space between Major and me. Mom picks up her leather overnight bag and slings

it over her shoulder. Startled, he whips his head around to the back of the car. Mom flashes him a quick smile and grabs my bag as well before she closes the door. “What’s that all about? I thought you were staying until tomorrow. You’re too tired to drive.” A deep frown line forms between his eyes, his voice is laced with urgency, and I almost feel bad for not warning him that we’re leaving. Almost. “I’m sorry, Major, we really need to get home. Mom is worried about her house. She wants to check to see if there’s any damage. I don’t know how bad the earthquake was down there.” His jaw tightens more with every word I speak. “That’s not what you said this morning.” The urgency in his voice is gone, replaced by a steely coldness that sends chills up my spine. “I know, but after I talked to Mom, she thought we

should get back sooner than later. She’s going to drive. It’ll be all right.” My door opens, and Mom sticks her head in. “You coming, honey? We need to check on the kids.” She sounds impatient and borderline rude. Major can tell something’s not right. “Yeah, I’m coming,” I say and take ahold of my purse strap. “Thank you for having us. We really appreciate it,” I say. “Yes, thanks a lot, Major Steele,” Mom calls from the sidewalk. I begin to step out, and he grabs my arm. “Violet . . .” I can hardly stand to look back at him, and when I do, I wish I hadn’t. His eyes dart past me to my mother and then back to me. He is a hard man to read, but I know he’s

hurt and confused, but damn it, so am I. “What’s going on? Why are you really leaving?” I hate to lie, but this is a hopeless situation, and lying seems to be the least painful way to go right now. “Nothing, Mom is just jumpy about the house and I should really make sure my apartment isn’t flooding or crumbling to the ground, ya know?” I say lightly, trying to make my excuse sound more believable. I smile and pat his hand that’s squeezing the hell out of my arm. His eyes narrow. He knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, he releases my arm and pulls his hand away slowly, never taking his eyes off mine. I try so hard to hold back tears. I look back at my mom for a moment of relief and then at Major one last time. “I have to go.” I slide out of the seat and close the door. Mom takes ahold of my arm and leads me through the sliding doors of the hospital, and I

immediately scan the lobby for a restroom. “I’ll be right back,” I say sliding my arm from hers to make a beeline for the restroom. Inside, I step into a stall and let out a strangled cry. I quietly sob into a wad of toilet paper until I hear the door open and my mother’s voice. “Vie, honey, you okay?” I dab my eyes and try to sniff without making too much noise but fail miserably. My nose is full of snot, and there’s no way I’ll hide my red, puffy eyes from her anyway. I blow my nose and wipe the last of my eye makeup off, flush the toilet paper, and exit the stall. “Oh my God, Vie, what the hell happened?” I step to the sink and splash cold water on my face. When I look into the mirror to dry it off with a paper towel, I look horrible. “He has someone else. I’m a fool. I thought he was different, but I was wrong as always. I’m still the

jerk magnet, and he’s a class A jerk. I want to go home.” Mom wraps her arms around me, pulling me in for a hug. I bury my face in her neck and breathe in the familiar scent of Chanel No. 5 mixed with coffee. Her unique combination of scents has always calmed my fears in the past, but not today. It’s not normal to feel what I’m feeling for Major after only two days, but that doesn’t make it any less painful or real. I let down my guard, and he penetrated the wall I’d built around my heart to protect it from situations just like this. Well, not just like this. Major was special, or so I thought, and that makes it hurt all the worse. “You go out to the car and rest for a bit while I go check on Mattie and Belle. If anyone is visiting, I’ll tell them you’re sick and we’re going home today.” “Thanks, Mom. I feel stupid being so upset when I just met him two days ago.”

She holds me at arm’s length and looks me in the eye. “Honey, it’s not stupid. I fell in love with your father the moment I saw him. I’m not saying you love Major, although I’ve never seen you so happy with a man, but it happens, and I’m sorry that it didn’t work out. Are you sure about this?” “I heard him talking to her on the phone.” “It couldn’t have been a friend or family or something. Are you sure you didn’t read something into what you heard?” “He called her sweetheart, told her he loved her, and offered to take her to dinner this weekend. I don’t think so.” Her face falls. I think she wanted Major to be the real deal almost as much as I did. She cups my cheek and brushes away a tear. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” “I’ll be okay. I just want to go home and forget this week ever happened.”

“Go on then. I won’t be long.” She kisses me on the cheek, and I take my walk of shame through the hospital lobby and across to the parking garage. I hate for people to see me cry. It’s embarrassing, and crying over a man who wasn’t who I thought he was makes it worse. I feel stupid for being heartbroken. In my car, I lay the seat down flat and lock the doors. It’s dark in the parking garage, and the California sun isn’t sweltering yet, so I should be able to get an hour’s sleep before we start for home. I curl up on my side and press my hands together under my cheek as a pillow. As I adjust, trying to get comfortable, I notice a mark on my wrist and hold it out to look closer. It’s red, not terribly but noticeable. I hold out my other wrist and it matches. The rope. I can’t believe that just a few hours ago, I was intoxicated by Major’s charm and seductive fuckery. I’m so done with men, even one-night stands are going to have to be put on the shelf for a while after this debacle. Sex and love are too closely entwined to try and separate when you’re hurting,

and I think this hurt is going to last a long time.

CHAPTER 13

MAJOR

Better off “Major Steele, they need you in the conference room.” Jamison has been on my ass since I hit the door. I should have come in last night. Shit’s a mess now, in more ways than one. “I’ll be right there,” I say and slap a folder shut on my desk. I don’t want to deal with earthquake disaster relief right now. I need to deal with Violet disaster relief. I have to find out what spooked her

so badly this morning. There’s no way that after last night she just up and decided she needed to check on her apartment. She was exhausted, sated, happy—what the hell made her do such an about face? They are probably already on their way home now, and as worn out as Violet was, she’s probably sleeping in the car. I want to call or text her, but thoughts of Katie have been rambling around in my head for hours. The memory of her sad eyes and tortured soul are all the reminder I need that Violet is better off without me. Whatever the reasons for her abrupt withdrawal, I should let her go. I’d end up ruining her life the same way I did Katie’s. After a long afternoon of meetings and briefs, I stop by the hospital to check on Violet’s friends. Staff Sergeant Matthew Cane suffered a severely broken leg, but he is listed in stable condition. His fiancé, Belle, has a serious head injury, and she’s in the ICU in critical condition. That’s all I am able to find out from their families. Both sets of parents thank me repeatedly for saving their children’s

lives, and I wish them good luck. It’s Edith’s day to clean, and it’s laundry day. I texted her earlier and told her not to change the sheets on my bed. I would have stripped the bed and started the wash before leaving this morning, but we were rushed, and now I’m glad. I want to lay on the sex permeated sheets and inhale Violet’s lavender and vanilla scent one last time before I throw the sheets in the wash and cleanse my memory of the magnificent woman who reminded me how to feel again. At home in my garage, the door closes behind me with a strange sense of finality. I sit in the dark and slide my phone from my pocket. I squint when the glow of the screen lights up the inside of the car. I scroll to Violet’s phone number and pull it up. My thumb hovers over the green dial button. Fuck, I want to call her. It’s only been a few hours, and I’m craving her touch, her sweet laugh and carefree smile. She made me feel human again. I’ve become a slave to my self-imposed rigid life, my lists and my excessive attention to detail. I haven’t made a

list for over forty-eight hours, and I’ve been more flexible with my schedule than I have been in years. The crazy thing is that it was effortless. I didn’t have the urge to stay on schedule. No one has ever dominated my every thought the way Violet does, not even Katie. I slip my phone into the breast pocket of my dress shirt and go inside the house. I won’t call her. She deserves better than me. On my way through the kitchen, I remove the salt and pepper containers from the counter and place them in the pantry where they belong. I take out a piece of paper and make an organized list of the things I have left to do today and what time I’ll be doing them. Then I write a list of things I need from the grocery store. I take the clipboard off the hook inside the pantry and check the items on the expiration list. I open the cupboards to check if Edith has thrown out expired items. When I’ve opened every cupboard and the refrigerator, I move on to the living room. I’m feeling especially anxious in here, what with having had a stranger sleep on my couch last night,

but there isn’t anything out of order per say. I head upstairs to change to go for a run at exactly 1830. I should have run inside on the treadmill. I thought the fresh air would do me good, but the damage from the earthquake is everywhere. The cracks in the pavement start to make me crazy, so I give up after three miles and turn back home. I spend the rest of the evening grocery shopping and cooking dinner. I thought I wanted to go to bed and think about my time with Violet, but now I’m finding excuses not to. I dust the already dustless furniture and clean the glass on the coffee table. I work in my office for a while and finally head upstairs. I’m not three feet down the hall when it hits me. I have a superior sense of smell, and Violet’s scent permeates the air around me. In my room it’s stronger, and the smell of sex on my sheets is unbearable. I strip the sheets off the bed and remove the pillowcases. Her towel is still hanging in the bathroom. I snatch that off the rack as well and stomp down the hall to the laundry room. On

my way back, I grab a bottle of Febreze and spray everything in my room down—the mattress, the pillows, the decorative pillows, my chair, everything. I remake my bed with perfect, tight military corners and lie down. When I shut off the light, I try like hell to block out my thoughts of her, but it’s impossible. I miss her. I can’t sleep. I fucking miss her. It’s for the best. She’s a good woman. She deserves more. She deserves a man without the heavy baggage that comes with me. I don’t want to hurt her. I repeat my reasons to stay away from Violet over and over a hundred times. My mind is convinced, but there’s not a ghost of a chance at persuading my heart. I’m fighting a losing battle when it comes to atoning for my sins, and I won’t allow Violet to be another casualty in my war.

CHAPTER 14

VIOLET

Just let go already The drive home wasn’t easy. It took an hour longer than usual after being sent on detour after detour. I’ve never been happier to see my bed. I dump my bag at the door and walk straight to my room and flop onto the mattress. Mom hounded me for at least fifteen minutes when I left her house. She thinks I’m not handling this ‘breakup’ well, if you can even call it that. What

she doesn’t know is that Major worked me over so hard all night that I’m more tired than sad. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. I am upset. I had feelings for Major, deep feelings, but I’m not going to do anything stupid, and my Mom knows that. I think she’s more concerned about being alone herself. She’s been going on and on about aftershocks since we checked her house for damage, of which there was none. I finally talked her down and convinced her that she would be fine by herself. I drove myself home on autopilot. I’m probably lucky to be alive. I can’t even remember pulling into the parking lot. I still have the rest of the week off, and now, with no wedding plans, I’ll be able to rest. After the past few days, God knows I need it.

I ROLL over and look at the clock. It’s dark. I wonder what day it is—Monday? No, Tuesday . . .

well, that depends on whether it’s six a.m. or six p.m. I’m so disoriented. I grab my phone and turn it on. Six p.m. Oh my God. Well, now I can honestly claim I’ve slept for over twenty-four consecutive hours. Who does that? I flop back down onto my back and wince when my muscles protest. After being still for so many hours, I’m feeling the effects of my night with Major more than ever. And there it is. As all bad things do in that moment between sleep and awake, it all comes rushing back to me. The drinks, the bathroom in the restaurant, the sex, the long talks, the tenderness, and then . . . the betrayal. I can’t hold back the tears any longer. The moment I heard Major apologize to someone for spending too much time with me, I’ve been suppressing the urge to cry. I cry and sob—hell, I downright blubber—and I feel sorry for myself. I snatch a wad of tissues out of the box next to my bed and blow loudly. It feels good to be alone at home where no one can judge my emotions.

I need to shower. Get up, Violet. It’s time to get living. I need to forget about the fairytale weekend I just spent with Major Steele and focus on work, friends, something—anything but him. I take my time rolling to the edge of the bed and stand up, stretching my aching muscles. I peel off the clothes I’ve been wearing for two days now and turn on the shower. My eyes feel like sandpaper, and even after all the crying, I swear I can hear myself blink. I’ve got to get these contacts out. I pad through my dark apartment and retrieve my bag from the floor next to the door where I dropped it when I got home. I unzip the pink duffle and dig around for my contact case. The only one I can find is the one Major let me borrow in a side pocket. I take it out and close my hand around it, squeezing it tight. Why is such a mundane, everyday object making me want to sit down on the bathroom tile and bawl? Because that mundane, everyday object was sweetly given to me by a man I thought I was falling for. So stupid.

I take out my contacts, shower, and cry some more. Usually, when something upsets me, I’m fine after a good cry. I get it all out of my system and put it behind me. But Major is like a stubborn flu virus that refuses to leave my system. Putting him behind me is heartbreak instead of positive forward progress. I feel like something’s missing or lost when I never had it to begin with. When I have my shit together, I go to the kitchen to fix something to eat, but there isn’t much to choose from since I had planned on being gone for a week. I eat a bowl of cereal and vegetate, binge watching Netflix all night. Now it’s late morning and I need to get out of here. If I’m alone another minute, I’m going to start stalking Major online—or worse, call or text him. I’m strong, but enough is enough. I miss him. I miss the faint smell of starch and Irish Spring soap, the feel of his five o’clock stubble scratching against my thighs, his strong hands tugging my hair, his mouth . . . God, I have to stop.

I call Kimber to meet me for lunch. Choosing her out of all my friends for a distraction isn’t the smartest idea since she and Garcia are hitting it off so well. But it’s Tuesday, and all my friends are at work. The group I’m closest to at work doesn’t typically break for lunch. We’re workaholics, and when we get on a roll, we don’t quit until the project is done. Kimber told me she had just moved to San Diego when the divorce was final a few weeks ago, so she hasn’t had time to make new friends or explore the city. I can help her with both. “Hey there, you look gorgeous,” I say, holding her at arm’s length to look her over. She really is the most beautiful pregnant woman I’ve ever seen. She’s always impeccably dressed, and her pregnant belly looks like she swallowed a small watermelon. You wouldn’t even know she was pregnant from behind. “Oh, yuck, I’m fat. You look great though.”

We hug, and she holds on a little longer than your average casual lunch hug. She feels sorry for me. I hate pity. “You’re not fat, you’re pregnant. There is a big difference, and I know it’s cliché, but you’re glowing. A certain Marine named Garcia wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would he?” She shifts her eyes away from mine. She’s uncomfortable. “Hey, it’s okay. We can talk about him. I’m fine.” I’m such a liar, but I believe if you tell yourself something enough, it starts to feel true. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know what happened between you two, but Julian says Major has been really grouchy and withdrawn since you left Oceanside. He won’t talk about it with him though. Julian says he’s not that kind of person.” I open the door for her and we step inside my favorite bistro and wait to be seated.

“Grouchy, huh? And I’m assuming Julian is Garcia.” “Oh yeah, I guess nobody calls him that, huh? I can’t call him Garcia. It feels weird.” I smile and imagine Kimber yelling out “Garcia!” during sex. Then I think of the alternative, and I chuckle. Julian isn’t much sexier, but I don’t see Garcia that way, so it doesn’t matter. “Well, I’m glad you two are hitting it off so well, and I’m sure Major will be just fine.” I can’t help but put a bitter spin on the word ‘fine’. It’s hard knowing that he’s not spending all his time alone pining over me. He’s got his girlfriend to keep his bed warm at night. I can’t believe I fell for that crap about me being the only woman he’s ever brought into his house. What an idiot. Kimber touches my shoulder. “Violet, tell me what happened. Maybe I can help. I could have Julian talk to him or something.” “No, don’t worry about me. Really, I’m fine, and

there’s nothing to talk about. We had a couple of fun nights and now I’m back home. It wasn’t serious.” I hate lying. First, I’m no good at it, and second, I have a deep respect for the truth. Unless it’s going to hurt someone unnecessarily, I almost always stick to honesty. The hostess interrupts us, thank God, and we follow her to a small booth in the back. I eat here often and the staff recognizes me. They know I prefer to be seated against the wall so I can see everything. I’m a people watcher. If that could be a career, I’d be a pro. “So what are you doing all week now that we don’t have a hundred obligations and a wedding to go to?” she asks. “I haven’t really decided. I’ve been asleep since we got home Sunday. I guess everything just caught up with me,” I say. I unroll my silverware and smooth the napkin across my legs. Our waiter stops by to take our

drink orders and I watch an old man help his wife out of her chair. I wonder if I’ll ever find someone to grow old with. No, after this weekend, I should know better than to have thoughts like that. I’m destined to be alone. Smart, beautiful women with good game have snatched all the good men up, and I’m still the jerk magnet. Kimber takes a long drink of water and follows my gaze to the old couple. “Violet, please let me ask Julian to help.” I look into her big round eyes and take a deep breath. “No, Kimber. Whatever was there is gone now. I need to leave it in the past. Let’s talk about something else.” She sighs and we chat about work and babies. She updates me on Mattie’s and Belle’s condition. Matt’s fine. He’s been discharged with a full cast on his broken leg and he’s staying with Belle in the ICU. Belle hasn’t woken up yet. She’s still got a lot of swelling on her brain and her family is starting

to worry that she may never wake up. “I can’t believe it. They are so perfect for each other. How does something so horrible happen to such good people?” I say, slouching back in the booth and eyeing a young couple that just walked through the entrance. They remind me a little of Mattie and Belle, handsome and totally in love. “I know. I wish there was something I could do to help. I stayed to help her parents pack her things from the hotel, and Julian loaded up all their gifts from the shower and took them to their new house.” “They bought a house? Oh my gosh, that’s so depressing.” “Yeah, her parents helped them a little. They didn’t want Belle to have to live on base.” That doesn’t surprise me. Belle comes from money. It’s surprising that she isn’t more hoity-toity than she is. Her mother acts like she’s royalty with all of her overly proper etiquette and ultra-

conservative opinions. “That was nice of them.” Our food arrives and our conversation runs dry. We eat and exchange casual comments about the weather and whatnot. When we’re finished, we hug goodbye and I watch her get into a newish Volvo. She either cleaned Caleb out in the divorce or her parents are taking good care of her. I’m leaning toward the latter. The rest of my week was dull and boring. I was ready to go back to work. In fact, I had already started working from home. Saturday night was miserable. I could think of nothing but the date. Major and his girlfriend were out having dinner, and when they were done, he would take Sabrina back to his house so he can do all the things he did to me . . . to her. A group of friends from work asked me to go for a drink, and I went, but my heart wasn’t into it. I decided to go home when I hallucinated Major

sitting at the bar across the dance floor, scowling at me. I even braved the thick sea of people to see if it was him. It wasn’t. There was no one sitting on the bar stool when I arrived. I chalked it up to being a little drunk, so I called a cab. Sunday night at ten p.m. I lay my head down on my pillow and get ready to go back to my regular schedule in the morning. I’ve never wanted to go back to work more desperately than now. No matter how many sheep I count or how relaxed I try to be, I can’t get his face out of my head. He’s an unwelcome intruder holding my heart hostage, and I’m going to war tomorrow to force him out. I may pack a bag and sleep in my office just to saturate myself with work. I’m going to immerse myself in every project like my life depends on its perfect completion, because to be honest, it just might.

CHAPTER 15

MAJOR

Yeah I know, I am an asshole “You said ten o’clock!” I yell. “It’s scheduled at ten and I was ready at ten. Now you tell me I’m supposed to be there at one?” “Sir, it was changed last week. I updated your itinerary two days ago.” “You should have reminded me. I have a lot of shit going on right now. I need to know where the fuck

I’m going and when. Do you understand, Staff Sargent Jamison?” Jamison’s body tenses when he replies, “Yes, sir.” I sit down at my desk and press the power button on my computer and adjust the tape dispenser a centimeter to the left. The last two months have been straight hell. People are walking on eggshells around me, and with good reason. I’ve been an asshole. Ever since I let Violet walk out of my life without a fight, all I want to do is fight—about anything, with anyone. People see me coming, and if it’s not too obvious, they turn the other way to avoid me. I am impossible to be around, and I don’t give a fuck. I had no idea of the effect that woman had on me until she was gone. I’ve almost called or texted her a million times. I even went to San Diego and followed her into a bar the first weekend after she left. She was so close, I even brushed against her

when we passed in the crowd, but when I thought she might have spotted me, I did the fucking right thing to do. I left. I have been torturing myself, imagining her in someone else’s arms at night, another man’s bed. I want her so badly I can feel it in my bones, but then I remember what happened with Katie and I rein in my selfish desires. I am proficient at one thing in this world, and that’s being a Marine. Being a husband was the biggest fail of my life, and I refuse to repeat that disaster. Losing my chance with Violet is one of the worst punishments I’ve endured, second only to losing my wife. An attitude adjustment is long overdue, and there is only one person who knows how to handle me. I take my phone from a drawer in my desk and call Sabrina. “Hey, you busy?” I ask when she answers out of breath. “No, just off the treadmill. What’s up, love?” she

says in her beautiful British accent. “I need some company. Can we meet?” “Of course, what do you have in mind?” “Well, since you’ve already worked out, why don’t you let me feed you? “All right, give me an hour, will you? I need to shower.” “Meet me at Gilly’s.” “Don’t go bossing me about, Sawyer. I’m not one of your little plonkers, you know.” “Yes, I know. I apologize. Let me start again. Will you please honor me with your presence at Gilly’s for lunch?” “I would love to. See you soon then.” “Goodbye, Sabrina,” I say, but she senses something in my voice is off because she pauses before hanging up.

“Sawyer?” “Yes?” “I love you, you know.” “I know. I love you too.” The line goes dead, and I slump back into my chair and stare at whatever the hell Jamison has pulled up on my monitor. I can’t think about work anymore today. “Jamison, cancel everything for this afternoon. I’m leaving.” “Yes, sir.”

CHAPTER 16

VIOLET

Shit storm surprise My lungs hurt, it’s hard to breathe, and I just want to go home and crawl into bed. Unfortunately, per the usual lately, I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with this project and I can’t leave. “Violet, you sure you don’t want to go and lie down for a little while? You’re looking sort of pale,” Gene says.

Gene is sweet. He’s the total nerd package, though, all work and zero play. I know computer nerds are in style lately, but Gene isn’t the cool kind of nerd. He’s the nerdy kind of nerd. I find it amusing that a person who is so socially inept is a major computer designer for one of the largest social media platforms of our time. I cough, and it hurts so bad my eyes water. “No thanks, the sooner we get done, the sooner I can go home to bed, so let’s just hurry, okay?” “Sure, Violet, got it, hurry,” he mutters to himself, and I tap halfheartedly on my keyboard. When I look up twenty minutes later after a long coughing jag, Gene looks like he’s at the end of a long tunnel. He’s talking to me, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. The next thing I remember is Marie gently patting my cheek and telling someone to call an ambulance. I try to open my eyes and tell her it’s not necessary and that I probably just passed out from coughing

so hard, but I close my eyes and they are gone again. The next time I come around, I’m looking into the face of a man in scrubs. “Hello, Miss Washington, how are you feeling?” I feel something pressing on my face and reach up to see what’s causing the discomfort. “Oh no, let’s just leave that there for a while. We’re giving you some oxygen. You’ve got quite a bad case of pneumonia. Have you been to the doctor for your wheezing recently?” he asks, and a nurse enters the room and hands him a chart with my name on it. “No I uh, I’ve been so busy at work and I just thought it was a bad cold or something. I have pneumonia? Are you sure? I don’t think I felt that bad,” I say, my voice cracking and croaking. “Yes, I’m quite sure. Your oxygen saturation was in the upper seventies, low eighties when they

brought you in. You fainted in your office, do you remember that?” He’s flipping through the pages of the chart while he talks. Something he sees makes him stop suddenly. “Sort of, I remember having tunnel vision and then I woke up for a minute, but other than that, not so much.” Little spirals of smoke rise from the mask that’s muffling my speech. I watch them swirl up and away from my face and try to think about exactly how long I’ve been sick. It’s been a week, maybe ten days. I’ve been working so hard the past two months and my immune system is shot. I’ve caught every bug that’s gone around the office. I just figured this was another viral thing that I’d get over on my own. I guess not. “Ah, Violet . . . is it okay if I call you Violet?” the doctor asks. At least I think he’s a doctor. “Yes, sure.”

“I have some lab results here that I need to discuss with you.” I blink. My eyelids are heavy, but I open them wide and make an effort to stay alert. Lab results, he needs to talk. Okay, pay attention, Violet, and then you can go back to sleep. “Whenever we get someone in the ER who is unconscious, we order a few blood tests for the patient’s safety.” “Okay, blood tests. Go on.” I’m so fucking tired and my chest is so heavy, I could really care less about the blood tests. Just give me something to make me better so I can go home to my own bed. “Were you aware that you’re pregnant?” he asks. I’m sure I just heard him wrong. I’m sick. I’m here for pneumonia. He didn’t just try to tell me I’m pregnant. “Violet? I’m going to take it that your lack of response and the shock on your face means that you

weren’t aware of this.” “Did you say I’m pregnant? As in a baby?” I ask. I’m shocked as fucking hell. No, I wasn’t fucking aware of this, mostly because it can’t be true, it isn’t true. I’m on the pill, I always use protection . .. “Oh my God,” I say, my voice nothing but a whisper. Major and I didn’t use a condom the second night we spent together, and we had sex four, five . . . hell, I don’t even know how many times. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn’t happening. It can’t be. I’ve just started to make it through an entire day without thinking of him, without my heart bleeding in my chest. “Yes, as in a baby. You’re about eight weeks along. When was your last period?” I think back. Crap, I know I had a period the week before we left for the wedding because I was happy I wasn’t going to have it while I was on vacation. I’ve been working so hard, I didn’t even

realize I missed it last month. “The end of April, first week of May.” “Well, that lines up perfectly with what your blood results say. We will have to do an ultrasound to verify the pregnancy and get an actual due date, but I’d guess around the last week of January or the first week in February is when you’ll be full term. Were you using birth control?” “Yes, the pill,” I say, staring straight ahead of me at an ugly painting of a field full of daisies. Why do they always have such ugly artwork in hospitals? Why do they have artwork in the ER at all? I’m on the pill. This isn’t supposed to happen. I don’t know shit about babies. I was a computer nerd growing up. I didn’t babysit like the other girls my age. I fixed computers, I was in the computer science club, I tutored people in chemistry and physics. God, what am I going to do? “Birth control pills are 99% effective. This

doesn’t happen often, but obviously it happens sometimes. I’m sure you have a lot of things on your mind right now, so I’ll let you rest while this sinks in. We can talk about an ultrasound in the morning when you’ve had some antibiotics and a few breathing treatments. Is there anyone we can call for you, someone to come sit with you for a while, bring you some things perhaps? You’ll be here a couple of days for the pneumonia. “My phone, it’s in the pocket of my sweatshirt. I need to call my mom.” The good doctor rummages through a plastic bag that I assume is holding all of my belongings and pulls out my phone. I don’t even want to know how I got undressed and into this gown. Lord, I hope Gene didn’t have anything to do with that. “Here you go, you have a couple of friends in the waiting area. Would you like me to send them back or tell them you’re too tired?” he asks. I really just want to sleep, but I would feel bad if I

didn’t thank whoever came with me to the hospital. “They can come in, but doctor . . . what was your name again?” “Dr. Kumar, I apologize. I don’t think I introduced myself.” “That’s okay, Dr. Kumar, could you please not mention the pregnancy thing to anyone?” He reaches out and covers my hand with his. “Of course, it’s a HIPPA violation to discuss your condition with anyone who’s not involved in your care.” His hand is cool on mine. It feels good. I must have a fever, because it’s hotter than hell in here. It’s been a long time since anyone has touched me with any tenderness. Eight weeks, to be exact. It’s nice. He has a good bedside manner, and he’s not hard to look at either, with his big, dark eyes and his longish jet-black hair pushed off his forehead with a chunk flopping in his eye. All right, this is ridiculous. I must be feverish. I’m having flirty

thoughts about my physician, and I’m sick and pregnant. And alone. Shit, I need my mother. Dr. Kumar smiles and slides my chart into a slot at the end of the bed before leaving. “Rest. I’ll see you on rounds in the morning.” “I’ll be right here,” I say, holding up my arm to show him that I’m tethered to my IV. He chuckles and tilts his head to the side for a moment. He’s thinking, but it doesn’t feel like he’s thinking Doctor thoughts. He looks like he’s thinking man thoughts. “Goodnight, Violet,” he says and closes the door. My God, this has got to be the biggest shit storm I’ve ever been in. I have pneumonia, I fainted, I rode in an ambulance for the first time, and I don’t even remember it. I’m hospitalized, pregnant, and I’m pretty sure my hot doctor is interested in me as

more than a patient. I press Mom on my contact list and she answers on the first ring. “Violet, what’s wrong? You never call this late, are you okay?” Wow, now that’s a loaded question. I think I’ll start with the pneumonia and work up from there. “Not really, Mom. I’m in the hospital. Apparently, I have pneumonia. Can you come and bring me my toothbrush and stuff? The doctor says I’ll be here a couple of days.” “Violet Rhea Washington, I told you days ago to see a doctor about that cough. You didn’t listen to me, did you?” It’s obvious I didn’t, but moms will be moms, so I give her this. “No, I’m sorry. I was so busy at work. I just didn’t take the time.”

“You’ve been working entirely too much lately. You’ve worn down your immune system and now you’re really sick. I can’t believe—” “Mom,” I say, interrupting her rant. “What?” “Will you please just come? It’s hard to breathe. I can’t talk anymore.” What an awesome excuse, and it’s even true. I’ve been holding up the oxygen mask to talk to her and it’s harder to breathe. “Yes, of course, I’m coming.” “Do you still have a key to my apartment?” “Yes, I’ll stop and get you some things.” “Thanks, Mom, and Mom?” “Yeah?” “I love you.”

“Good Lord, I better get up there. You must be delusional. You never tell me you love me anymore.” “Mom.” “Yeah?” “Hurry up.” I hear her huff and hang up the phone. She’s right. I don’t tell her I love her enough. I don’t do anything lately other than work. I’m going to need her support now more than ever. I’d better get out the pink hearts and red markers and start proclaiming my love—and often.

FOR A PLACE where you’re supposed to rest and heal, they sure as hell wake you up enough. I haven’t slept longer than an hour all night. Mom arrived around midnight, and luckily, that’s

when the nurse wanted to check my vital signs and the respiratory therapist stopped by for a friendly chat and a breathing treatment. But that’s where the convenience ended. Since two a.m., my room has been a constant stream of changing IV bags, hanging different antibiotics, and checking my temperature. I plan on complaining to my new favorite, Dr. Kumar, as soon as the sun comes up. I’m envious of my mother sleeping in her cot by the window. Last night was proof that she can sleep through absolutely anything. Maybe it’s because I feel so crappy, or I suppose it could have something to do with the fact that I have a human being growing inside of me that I didn’t even notice for two months. I’m off to a great start at this mothering thing. The hardest part of the whole thing is that I know I’m going to have to confront Major. He’s the father, there’s no doubt. I haven’t slept with anyone for months before or after him, and even then, I insisted on using a condom.

What the hell was I thinking? How could I be so careless? I can’t even take comfort in knowing that it was fifty percent his fault because he asked me before we did it. In the heat of the moment—yep, been there, done that. Big time. I try to turn onto my left side and get tangled up in my damn IV and oxygen tubing. The oxygen yanks my head the opposite direction, and I yelp. “Oh, hey there, let me help you with that,” Dr. Kumar says, hustling from the door to the bedside. He surprised me. I didn’t know he’d be rounding so early. “I can’t move in here. I’m hung up on something over here, and my face is—” “Shush, shush, just hold still, I’ll fix it.” And he does. My arm is stuck on one side of the bed where my IV is tangled in the bedside rail. Dr. Kumar carefully tugs it free, and I’m given enough

leash to roll to my side. “Thank you,” I murmur through the oxygen mask. It’s just barely dawn outside, and the room is slowly growing lighter as I watch Dr. Kumar work at untangling my oxygen tubing. I didn’t notice last night, but he has the most beautiful thick black eyelashes. He catches me staring at him and smiles. When I’m tangle free, I thank him again. “Thanks.” “No problem. I can’t have you hanging yourself with tubing when I’m trying to fix your lungs. How are those lungs this morning anyway? Are you feeling any better?” He removes the stethoscope from his neck and places it on my chest. “Deep breath in.” I do as I’m told and answer one of his questions between breaths.

“They hurt.” “Again, inhale. Good, now exhale.” His voice is hypnotic, like one of those meditation tracks you listen to when you’re trying to relax. “And no, I feel like shit,” I say when he lifts the stethoscope and places it down on another part of my chest. “Blunt and to the point. I like that,” he says and winks at me—he winked! What kind of doctor winks at his patients? It’s right then that I realize I must look like total crap. My breath can’t smell that great either, and I just breathed all up in his face. Gross. I must be imagining that this man is flirting with me. No way would anyone in their right mind be attracted to a pale, sick pregnant chick with morning dragon breath. “You sound pretty crappy too. How did you sleep?” he asks.

“Try not at all. These people are crazy, running in and out of here every five minutes, and then there is the fact that I just found out I’m pregnant.” “Hmm, I’ll speak to the nurses about clustering your cares better so you can get a few hours of sleep at a time. I’m afraid I can’t help you with the pregnancy issue, but I will say I think I’ll wait on the ultrasound until you’re feeling a little better.” “Pregnancy?” I hear Mom say as she swings her legs around the side of her cot, slapping her feet on the floor. “Who’s pregnant?” she says, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I’m so sorry, I assumed . . .” Dr. Kumar says. “It’s okay, you actually just helped me out. I had no idea how I was going to bring it up to her. Dr. Kumar, this is my mother, Lilly. Mom, this is . . .” “Dr. Kumar, yeah, yeah, I heard. Now what’s this about being pregnant? Is that true, Violet?”

“I’ll leave you two alone to talk. It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Washington,” he says to my mother, but she ignores him. Her focus is all on me. He may as well not be in the room. “I’ll talk to the nurses and I’ll be back this afternoon to check on you again.” “Thank you so much. If I’m asleep, don’t wake me,” I say and give him a half-ass smile because that’s all I can muster right now. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” And he’s gone, and I’m alone with my mother. “What the hell is going on, Violet?” she says, getting up from her cot. She moves to the side of my bed, and I’m actually a little afraid of her. I start to cough and cough. I try to explain what’s going on, but I’ve been talking too much. I can’t breathe, and I start to panic, and I cough harder. I grab for her hand. Alarms start to go off and she’s yelling for a nurse, but they’re already coming through the door with Dr. Kumar hot on their heels.

“Violet, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths, okay? Like this.” Dr. Kumar holds my hands in his and demonstrates how he wants me to breathe, but I can’t. There’s just not enough air. I pull one of my hands free and try to yank the oxygen mask off my face. It’s restricting. I’m suffocating in this stupid piece of plastic. “What’s wrong with her? What’s happening?” my mom yells. “Mrs. Washington, you need to stay calm. Let us help her,” Dr. Kumar says to her. “I . . . can’t . . . breathe . . .” I say, panting between each word. Dr. Kumar takes my hand away from the mask and I thrash, trying to get away from him while he replaces it, holding it over my mouth. “Turn the O2 up to 100%, call RT stat, and get a breathing treatment going here, and push 2mg of Morphine.” Dr. Kumar gives the nurses orders, but his eyes never leave mine.

“Violet, we’re helping you, but you need to keep the mask on. That’s oxygen. I know you feel trapped, but it’s helping you, I promise. I’m getting you a breathing treatment and something to help you relax. Deep breaths in and out, that’s a girl. You can do it.” The longer he talks to me in that calm voice of his, the easier it is to breathe. I do my best to follow his instructions, but it feels like forever before the respiratory therapist arrives to start the breathing treatment. My arm where the IV is feels warm, and then my chest, and finally, I’m able to loosen my death grip on Dr. Kumar’s hands. “There you go. You’re going to be okay now. Your airway was restricted and the coughing didn’t help, but you’re okay now.” I nod. I’m scared to do anything more than that. I feel like if I talk, I’ll cough and if I cough, then that shit will happen again. “I’m sorry, Vie, I didn’t mean to upset you, honey.

Everything’s going to be okay, we’re going to get you better, and we will sort through all of this together. You’re not alone. I’m here for you.” I’m relieved to hear she’s got my back on the whole pregnancy thing. “We are going to keep a close eye on you now, Violet. I know I said I’d ask the nurses to let you rest, but that’s not an option right now. Are you feeling better? You look better. You have some color in your cheeks again,” he says, squeezing my hands. I nod again and he releases my hands. I immediately miss the calming warmth they were providing. I wish he could just leave his hands here. I wish he would stay here, all of him. I don’t know if it’s the lack of oxygen to my brain or what, but I think I’m starting to crush on my doctor.

CHAPTER 17

MAJOR

Fuck Space I have to restrain myself from blasting the little brat behind me with some serious drill instructor verbiage. If he kicks my seat one more time, I can’t be responsible for my actions. I thought taking a few days off would help my demeanor, but it’s aggravated it instead. How could I forget how much I hate flying? The closeness, the germs and smells mixing together, the recycled air and the

disgusting miniature bathrooms . . . it gives me chills. I’ve had enough. I place my hand on the back of my seat and turn around to look at the woman accompanying the little boy. Then I look directly into the eyes of the obnoxious little kicker. “Stop. Kicking. My. Seat.” The little shit gives me a defiant look, and I narrow my eyes and lift my lip in a silent growl. That’s all it takes. The kid sits back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. I glance at his mother, and she looks impressed. My work here is done. I turn around. The pocket on the back of the seat in front of me is stuffed with travel magazines and safety instruction cards. It’s a mess. I can’t help myself when I remove them all and organize them according to size and color. When they’re as close to perfect as they can be, I try to relax and look out the window until we land in San Diego. After a long landing, I finally exit the airport and

look for my car in the long-term parking lot. When I find it, I open the car door, slide in, and start the engine. I blast the air conditioning and lean my head back on the seat while I wait for the car to cool off. I’m in her town. Being in such close proximity to her is so tempting. I start having stalker thoughts about driving past her workplace and watching her come out of the building for lunch. I need to get a fucking grip. I sit up and exit the lot, fully intending to head toward Camp Pendleton. But I don’t. Twenty minutes later, I’m parked across the street from her office building doing exactly what I just told myself not to do. I give every woman who exits the building the once-over. I would probably know Violet if I saw her, but it’s been a while and I’m unsure of myself. Twice, I’ve had my hand on the door handle, ready to get out before I realized it wasn’t her. I don’t know what I plan to say if I see her. Why

the hell am I doing this again? Essentially, it’s because I’m a fucking selfish asshole who doesn’t care if I ruin her life as long as I get what I want. I’ve tried to stay away. Even if I hadn’t flown into San Diego today, it was just a matter of time before I came to her. She’s all I ever think about. Every day I’m away from her, I grow more pissed at myself for letting her go. Sabrina was right. Fuck space. I shouldn’t deny myself this second chance. I need to take a leap off this jagged ledge of fear and talk to her. I have to know what made her run that morning three months ago. Was it something I did? Did I push her too far in bed with the rope? Did she realize how severe my OCD is and decide I wasn’t worth the trouble? There are probably a million reasons, but I never picked up any vibes of reservation. I was so surprised when her mother took their bags out of the back of my SUV that morning. I didn’t know how to make her stay. I didn’t know what to say. After driving a mile down the road, my head cleared and I realized she was better off without

me. She still is. This is ridiculous. She may not even leave for lunch, and I have a meeting I can’t miss this afternoon and a forty-five minute drive home. I’ll wait fifteen more minutes, no more. It turns out I don’t have to wait any longer at all. When I look up, there she is, stepping out of the revolving door with a middle aged petite blonde. Time’s up. I get out of the car and move swiftly across the street, dodging traffic until I’m ten feet behind her on the sidewalk. She’s got her mop of soft curls swept up in a ponytail that gently swings with her hips as she walks. The curve of her bare neck calls to me and my cock twitches. I’m jealous of her petite friend when they laugh and bump their hips together. I want those hips to be mine. I want to dig my fingers into her flesh and press a kiss on the rise of each one. This woman has the power to mutate this hard ass Marine into a sloppy puddle of slush. She

doesn’t have a clue the power she holds over me. I want to give her everything, take her everywhere, and learn everything there is to know about her. I have an uncontrollable urge to make her happy in any way possible. But first, I have to get her to sit down and talk to me. I haven’t seen Violet dressed casually since the day we bumped into each other at Target. The events we attended that weekend were dress to impress occasions, but today, she’s a perfect combination of sexy and sweet, wearing a flowing lavender blouse with a pair of bright colored, wild patterned leggings. Her friend is dressed more conservatively in jeans and a short-sleeved cardigan and t-shirt, but I’ve heard Facebook fosters individuality and comfort as opposed to a more professional dress code. I can’t imagine going to work dressed that way. There are a lot of people on the street today as I weave down the sidewalk trying to catch up with them. I’m walking directly behind Violet when her friend notices me. I smile and fall into step next to

Violet. She turns to see who’s invading her space and stops short when I greet her. “Hello, Violet.” Her skin pales, and for a moment, I worry that I may have to catch her when she passes out on the sidewalk. I step in front of her and introduce myself to her companion. “Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m Major Steele, a friend of Violet’s,” I say, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand. God, I’ve missed those dark brown almond eyes. They’re just as full of life and expression as I remember, but something is different today. I can’t pinpoint it exactly, but if I had to, I’d say they have more sparkle, more purpose. “Major?” she whispers while her friend shakes my hand and introduces herself as Marie. “It’s nice to meet you, Marie,” I say and turn my attention back to Violet. “I’m sorry for showing up unexpectedly like this, but I was in town and I’d like to talk to you if you have some time. It doesn’t have to be now. I can

wait until you’re off work.” She wraps her arms around her waist and I watch as the color begins to return to her cheeks. “Ah, yes, sure. Marie and I are going to a deli down the street. You can join us for lunch if you want.” her voice is strangled, as if every word is difficult to speak. I take a chance and reach to remove one of her hands from her torso. She doesn’t pull away, and in fact, she comfortably laces her fingers with mine. Her warmth spreads through my body like syrup over hotcakes until it settles in my chest. “I would like to talk to you privately, if that’s all right with you.” All three of us are silent for a moment, but Marie returns to the here and now first with a jolt. “Oh, Violet, go ahead. I’ll run down and get our lunch. I’ll take it back up to the office and we can eat when you get back.”

I like Marie. She’s accommodating. Violet lowers her head and takes a deep breath. A knot forms in my stomach, and I deflate internally. She’s going to turn me down. A car on the street honks and startles her, bringing her focus back to me. “Can we meet later instead? I want to talk too, but I don’t want to be rushed.” “Yes, of course. Do you want me to pick you up when you’re finished here?” She doesn’t want to be rushed. That could be good or bad. She may want to take her time letting me down easy. Or she might want to spend some time getting reacquainted. I’m leaning toward the latter, as she still hasn’t let go of my hand. She looks at Marie, who is eying our joined hands. “What time do you think we will be done, Marie?” Marie snaps her eyes to Violet. “Oh, no later than

six. You’re not allowed to stay any later than that anyway,” she says and quickly presses her lips together as if she’s accidentally told a secret. “I’ll be here at eighteen-fifteen.” I squeeze her hand and lean in to kiss her on the cheek. Her skin is so damn soft against my lips. The familiar scent of lavender fills my nostrils as I linger longer than I should. Before prying myself away from her, I whisper in her ear, “You look beautiful today, Violet.” She gently pulls away and releases my hand. I nod at her friend. “Nice to meet you, Marie. I’ll see you later, Violet.” Her eyes meet mine for a second before she nods. I look both ways before jogging across the street toward my car, and when I’m behind the wheel, I make a U-turn and drive slowly alongside them. I roll down my window, and they both look at me as if I’m cuckoo for driving down the wrong side of the street against traffic.

“I’ve missed you, Target girl.” “You’re going to get yourself killed,” she scolds with a smile on her full lips. “I’ll see you at eighteen-fifteen.” I whip my SUV around into the correct lane just in time to miss an approaching car. I glance in my rearview mirror and see Violet standing still on the sidewalk, clutching her chest. I didn’t mean to scare her, but I couldn’t drive away until she knew I’ve been missing her. For three long, torturous months, I’ve successfully avoided all contact with her. I’ve done every single thing possible to work her out of my system aside from having a one-night stand. Just the thought of touching another woman is repelling. If we can’t work this out, I could very well spend the rest of my life alone. There is no one else for me. Finding two great loves in one lifetime is simply too much luck for a man like me. It’s Violet or no one.

CHAPTER 18

VIOLET

Major problems I’m trembling like a leaf on a tree in a spring thunderstorm, and I look like one of those crazy chicks from a horror movie with wide, frightened eyes and freaked out hair. I think I’m going to throw up, and I can’t even blame it on my pregnancy. I turn my palms outward and grip the vanity in the

bathroom of Gerard’s Deli and step back, dropping my chin to my chest, looking down at the polished cement floor. Sometimes, if I take deep breaths, the nausea subsides, but not often. It seems to be working today, though. Breathe in . . . breathe out . . . I have to calm down and get back to Marie. She doesn’t like sitting alone in public. I’ve been planning on driving down to see Major since I found out I was pregnant. I was hospitalized for a week with pneumonia, and I spent the following week recovering at home. When I finally got the guts up to make a move, I happened to speak to Kimber one afternoon and she told me that Major had gone on vacation. He wasn’t due back until sometime this week. I guess that’s today. Now he’s here and he wants to talk to me. What the hell could he possibly have to say? He’s just touched down from his vacation, probably with his girlfriend, and he shows up outside my office asking to meet with me privately. What could he want?

It doesn’t matter. By the grace of God, he’s been conveniently dropped into my lap so that I can tell him he’s going to be a daddy. It’s time to stop hiding and tell him what’s going on so he can decide how much he wants to be involved in our baby’s life—if at all. I don’t know which will be worse, having him eager to be involved, knowing he’s with another woman, or the pain of rejection when he says he wants nothing to do with our child. I wipe the smudges of mascara from under my eyes and straighten my ponytail before going back to the table. “Seriously, Violet, you are one lucky woman. I thought you were dating that hot doctor. How do you know Major Steele? “I met him when I went down to Oceanside for a wedding a few months ago, when the earthquake hit, remember?” “Yes, now I know where the epicenter of that thing was. The way he looked at you . . . he’s definitely smitten.

“And I’m not seeing Dr. Kumar. We just had lunch.” I don’t know why I felt I had to throw that information out there. I haven’t told anyone at work that I’m pregnant. They all think I’m still recovering from pneumonia, so nobody questions my woozy moments or quick escapes to the bathroom during meetings. Dr. Kumar has been a perfect gentleman. He didn’t call to ask me out until I was discharged and technically no longer his patient. We went to lunch last week a couple of times, and he’s asked me to dinner, but I’m not interested in anything other than friendship. I’m not over Major. I don’t think I’ll ever be over Major, and now that he’s here, I see weeks and weeks of recovery time in my future. After seeing him for fewer than five minutes today, there’s not a molecule in my body that isn’t craving him. And it’s not just physical. I genuinely like him. We got along well, he was easy to talk to, and we had things in common. I saw the possibility of a future with him—until that phone call, that is. I shouldn’t put so much importance on one phone

call, but the way he told that person he loved them pierced my skittish heart. “It didn’t look like he was only interested in a friendly lunch. That doctor likes you, Violet. A lot.” Shit, if a quiet, introverted Marie is picking up the vibe that Dr. Kumar has a thing for me, then he probably does. I continue to deny it because I’m mildly attracted to him too. It’s nothing close to what I feel for Major, but if I wanted more, Dr. Kumar would give it to me. He took care of me. He helped me through a tough time and made me feel special when I really needed it. Not to mention, he’s kind and generous and a total head turner. Major ruined me. He hollowed out my heart and left it desolate. Dr. Kumar is as close to perfect as I’ll ever get, but I’ll never let him get close to me, and I don’t want perfect. I want Major. “I’ve got a lot of things going on right now. I’m not looking to start a relationship, no matter how great

the guy,” I say. What a lie. “My grandmother always said that’s when the best ones come along. She always told me to relax and I’d find a man. Hardly.” She snorts. “I’m fifty-five years old, and I can’t even decide if I like men or women better. You’re crazy. You have two gorgeous guys interested in you, and you don’t want either of them. All the men my age are either married or divorced assholes. Oh, and don’t forget the ones who never married because they’re assholes. Consider yourself lucky.” She fusses with her napkin again, spreading it out on her lap. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Marie. You’re beautiful and smart and kind. Your grandma was right. I think you don’t put yourself out there enough. Go out with friends for drinks, go to parties or barbeques, whatever. Just surround yourself with good people. It’ll happen.” I reach out and touch her shoulder. It has to suck, being an introvert searching for love in your fifties. “Let’s eat lunch and stop worrying about men. Since when are they more important than a triple-decker turkey

club with bacon anyway?” “Since never,” she says, lifting one corner of her mouth in a mischievous smile. Marie’s cool. I’m going to help her find a man. All middle aged men can’t be married or assholes . . . can they? I don’t know, but I have bigger problems to deal with today. Major ones.

CHAPTER 19

MAJOR

Second chances I don’t have time to drive all the way home for my meeting at sixteen thirty and back by eighteen hundred hours tonight. My meeting is very important—mandatory, in fact—but Violet is more important, so I cancel. I’ll catch hell tomorrow, but if I can find out what happened between Violet and me, it’ll be worth it. And if I don’t, well fuck it. At least I tried, and I got to see her one last time.

Now what the hell am I going to do for six hours? I could use a nap, but I don’t know any hotel owners in San Diego and I’m not staying in just any hotel. I have been a regular customer at the Campton Inn in Oceanside for years. They have one room that they keep clean to my standards on permanent hold. It’s expensive to continuously rent room 311, but when I was sleeping with a different woman every week, it was worth it. I should call and tell them to start renting it out, because I’m through with the brief trysts I used to have there. I’m not interested in anyone but Violet, and if she’s willing, I’ll be taking her home to my own bed. There’s a mall coming up ahead. Maybe I’ll just pull into the parking lot and lay my seat back. It’s not the most comfortable place to nap, but at least I’m sure it’s clean. I park, and right before I lay my seat down, I see a sign advertising a gourmet cupcake store in the mall. Violet mentioned that she loves cupcakes during our one-morning stand. I get out of the car and go inside the shop. She may have told me she likes cupcakes, but she never

designated what kind, so I choose six of their most popular ones and wander back out into the mall. I don’t roam around in malls, but it’s early afternoon in the middle of the week and the place is virtually empty, making it less likely that someone will cough on me. I have hours to fill and nothing to fill them with, so I may as well. I pass a toy store and a health food shop before stopping to window shop in front of a store that sells Cartier eyewear. Violet was squinting in the sun today. She may have sunglasses, but I want to do something nice for her. I go inside and ask the saleswoman to pick out her favorite pair. She has a similarly shaped face, and the pair she chooses is perfect for Violet. I take the bag from Charlotte, the saleswoman and she brushes her hand against mine on purpose. She’s been flirting with me since I crossed the threshold of the store. I’m used to strangers being forward, but this woman is over the top. Doesn’t she realize she’s selling me women’s sunglasses? I

wouldn’t be surprised if she slipped her business card in the bag with her personal number on it. Back in my car, I nap for over an hour, and with three hours to go, I can’t wait any longer. I text Violet. Me - Can you get away early? She responds immediately. Maybe, how early? Me – Now. Violet - I’ll make it work. Where are you? Me - I’ll be out front in ten. Violet – Okay. Ten minutes later, she’s exiting the building and I’m holding the door to the Lexus open for her. She’s carrying two computer bags and a duffle. “I’ll take those for you,” I say.

“Thanks,” she says, handing me the bags. Her voice is laced with nerves, and I wonder what she’s feeling. I help her in and put her things in the back. When I’m in the driver’s seat, I ask, “Where to?” “It’s too early for dinner. I guess we could go to my place and talk, if that’s okay.” “Perfect, show me the way,” I say. “Just go to the end of this road and take a left.” She shields her eyes from the sun, and I remember my gift. “I picked these up today. I noticed you were squinting outside earlier. Thought you could use them.” I hand her the bag, and she holds it out in front of her to read the logo. Her mouth pops open as she turns her body in her seat to face me. “A gift?” she asks.

“Yes, is that all right?” “I don’t know. Why are you buying me gifts?” “Why shouldn’t I buy you gifts?” “Well, first of all, this is expensive—like really expensive. And second, won’t your girlfriend be pissed if she finds out you’re spending the afternoon with another woman and buying her presents?” Her words spill from her lips like an avalanche, gaining bitterness and momentum as she speaks, but I have no fucking idea what she’s talking about. “Violet, what makes you think I have a girlfriend? I told you when we met I don’t do relationships, just one-night stands.” “And I’m the only exception to your little rule, huh?” She’s angry. I’ve never seen her angry. Her eye twitches when she’s pissed. It’s very distracting.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, you are. What’s this all about?” She throws the Cartier bag in the back seat and her bottom lip quivers. I reach out to cup her cheek, but she bats my hand away and a big, fat tear slips down her cheek onto my wrist. “You know, I cared about you a lot, but I don’t like being lied to, and I won’t be the other woman to anyone. I can’t believe I ever fell for that I’ve never taken a woman to my house before you shit. I’ve seen Fifty Shades of Grey. I should have known you were stealing ridiculous plot lines. I don’t like being played for a fool, Major. It’s insulting.” Okay, why the hell is she talking about Fifty Shades of Grey? And how the hell am I playing her for a fool? I pull up my knee in my seat and mirror her position. “You’re going to have to be more clear, Violet. I don’t know where you got the idea that I have a

girlfriend or that I lied about you being the first woman in my bed, but I suggest you get really specific right now so I can set you straight.” My blood is pounding so hard I could easily take my own pulse without touching a finger to my wrist, and my vision is blurring with my anger. I can’t wait to find out who the hell told her these things so I can break their fucking neck. She looks out the front window, and I reach out and hold her chin between my thumb and forefinger to turn her face back to mine. “Please, just tell me who’s been feeding you lies, baby.” Her expression is cold, and her voice steady when she answers me. “You.” I shut my eyes and shake my head back and forth, confused. “Me? How so?”

“I heard you on the phone with her. I heard you tell her you love her.” She holds my gaze, never blinking, waiting for me to confess, but there’s nothing to confess to. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, Vio —” She doesn’t let me finish. She twists in her seat and yanks open the door to leave, but I grab her wrist before she can escape. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not running away from me again. Something is fucked up here, Violet, and we’re going to get to the bottom of it right now. I’m not letting you go again.” She stops struggling, half in, half out of the car, with one foot down on the pavement and her back toward me. “Get back in the car and tell me what the hell you’re talking about.” It takes her a minute to relent, but I don’t release

her arm until the door is shut. I press the automatic lock button and activate the child lock function that I’ve never used before to make sure she doesn’t run again. Her eyes are trained on her hands in her lap, and a rush of emotion crashes over me. I need her in my arms. I need to make this better, whatever this is. I pull her into my lap, and she’s so startled she doesn’t fight me. I take her face in my hands and come as close to begging as I ever have. “Tell me what phone call you’re talking about, please. Violet, I can assure you I do not have a girlfriend. If you just tell me what you’re talking about, I promise you I can prove my innocence.” I kiss her lips, and then I kiss them again. I want nothing more than to cover her mouth with mine and ravish her, but we have to work out this misunderstanding first. I pull her against my chest and rest my chin on the top of her head. “You put me in the shower. You were going to come back, but you never did.”

I search through my memories for the exact moment she’s talking about three months ago, and it hits me. The phone call. She heard me talking to Sabrina. Holy fucking shit, no wonder she thinks I’m a bastard. “I heard you apologize for being too busy to see her that weekend. You told her you’d be free to see her soon. You told her you loved her and invited her to din—” “Stop, stop. You have this all twisted up in that pretty head of yours. Shit, you should have said something to me. We’ve wasted three months because of a single phone call.” “Who is she?” I rub her arm up and down like I’m warming her up on a cold winter night. “Her name is Sabrina, she is my best friend, and yes, I do love her. I love her very much, but not the way you’ve assumed. She’s very important to me. She did something for me that I can never repay her

for. We spend time together and she knows things about me that no one else does, but I swear to you, I’ve never slept with her, she’s never been inside my house, and there is nothing remotely romantic going on between us.” She sits frozen in my arms for the longest time. Long enough that I have time to sort through what’s happened. She’s still better off without me. I should still let her go and free her from what’s bound to be the most difficult relationship she’ll ever be a part of, but I can’t. I can’t live without this beauty curled up in my lap another day. “Violet?” I say, kissing the top of her head. “You okay?” She doesn’t speak, but instead nods her head up and down. Her body begins to shake. I hear her whimper against my shirt, and she begins to sob. Oh God, there’s nothing worse than a crying woman. I can’t take it. I have to fix this and make her understand that I’m not angry. I just want to start over.

“Shush, everything’s going to be okay now. It was a misunderstanding, that’s all, just a story to tell our grandkids someday, you know?” She stops crying and sits up, eyes wide and white as two golf balls. “I’m kidding, sorry. No grandkids, no kids, whatever. I was just joking.” Her bottom lip trembles and she starts to cry again, harder than before this time. Note to self: no kid jokes or references. She burrows into my chest, and I continue to console her until her sobs turn to sniffles. “Why didn’t you come after me? Why didn’t you contact me?” “Because I’m not good for you. I have so much baggage, I didn’t want to burden you. I thought . . . no, I think you’re better off without me.” “Then why are you contacting me now?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m making everyone around me miserable because I want to be with you. I’m a selfish pig. Take your pick.” She shifts in my lap. Oh, the things that those small movements are doing to me. Lord, we need to make up so we can kiss, although I’d prefer to kiss and make up instead. “I choose selfish pig, but only because it’s not true.” I smooth my hand down her thigh. “You may want to wait and see before you dismiss that admission.” “I’ll take my chances. I think you might be worth it. Will you take me home now, please?” “Okay, do you need a Kleenex?” She sits up, revealing her puffy face, and I twist my lips to one side. “Or maybe two or three?” “I think I need a whole box.” I help her back into the passenger seat. I hand her a box of Kleenex

from my center console, and when she’s finished blowing her nose and dabbing her eyes, she holds the wad of tissue up. “Where can I put this?” I point outside to a trashcan. “Out there.” She rolls her eyes and tries to pull the door handle. “Would you take the child lock off, please?” “Only if you promise not to run away.” “I won’t run away.” “Promise,” I say. “I promise,” she says. I press the button to free her and watch her take a few steps to the trashcan and back. When she’s inside with her seatbelt fastened, I take her hand and kiss her knuckles while I pull out into traffic. “How far away are we?” I ask.

“Only a couple of miles. Turn right up here.” We ride in silence, and ten minutes later, I pull up in front of her apartment building. It’s a high-rise and she’s on the tenth floor. She directs me into the underground parking garage, and I help her into the elevator with her bags. At the last minute, I remember the cupcakes and her sunglasses. I grab those bags as well. “What’s with all the stuff?” I ask. “We’ve been working on a big project. Sometimes, I sleep in my office to save time going back and forth.” “Your friend mentioned you weren’t allowed to work past six. Why is that?” She rolls her eyes, “I was sick a couple of weeks ago and they’re worried about me. It’s nothing. They’re totally overreacting.” “They don’t know you’re sleeping in your office?” “Nope, and now I’m not, because we finished the

project, hence the bags.” “I see.” We exit the elevator and hang a left. Halfway down the hall, she stops and stares at something propped against her door. It’s a bouquet, a big one, wrapped in paper, waiting for her to find them when she gets home. They’re a little wilted. They’ve probably been sitting there over twentyfour hours if she’s been sleeping in her office. We don’t say anything as she scoops them up and unlocks the door, pushing her way inside with her computers and her flowers. Inside, she flicks on the light in the dining room and tosses the flowers haphazardly onto the table. “You can put that anywhere. I’m going to just put these in my office. I’ll be right back,” she says, toeing off her shoes and padding down the hall away from me. I close the door and place her bag on one of the dining room chairs. I bend at the waist and read the card with the flowers, keeping my hands stuffed into my front pockets.

Thank you for lunch. I hope we can do it again soon –Sayeed Sayeed, huh? Jealousy pricks at my heart, and I think of how Violet must have felt that morning listening to me talk to Sabrina. I did tell her I loved her. Hearing only my side of the conversation must have sounded like an exchange between lovers. Why the hell didn’t I think of that? I thought she was in the shower and I hadn’t spoken to Sabrina all weekend. I needed to take the call. It’s unfortunate that she didn’t confront me about it, but we had only known each other two days, so I can see why she bolted. “Do you feel like ordering something for dinner later?” she asks, entering the living room. Her apartment is cozy, not a lot of space, but there’s only her, so it makes sense. She opens the curtains covering the French doors that lead to a patio outside. When she lifts her arms to push the material back, her shirt rides up, making her perfect ass more visible. I’ve missed that ass, but I have to get my thoughts off Violet’s curves and

onto the conversation we need to have next. “Sure, sounds good.” She sits, curling her legs under her on one end of a perfectly white couch. I wouldn’t peg her to have unpractical furniture, but there are so many things I’ve yet to learn about her. “You gonna stand there all day or come sit with me?” I do as she did and remove my shoes at the door. I like that she doesn’t track the world’s garbage and germs into her home. I sit sideways next to her with my knee up and my arm draped over the back of the couch. “You have an admirer.” I can’t help it. I have to bring it up. It bothers me that a man is bringing flowers to her at home. She fidgets and plays with the edge of her loose shirt. People fidget when they’re uncomfortable or guilty. She must be involved with this Sayeed

person. It’s stupid of me to think she’s still single. She’s a beautiful, smart, successful woman. However, knowing this and accepting it are two different things. “Oh, that’s just my doctor. We became friends when I was in the hospital,” she says, waving her hand dismissively. “A doctor who makes house calls with flowers?” “We went to lunch a couple of times. He’s nice, but it’s nothing.” “You were sick enough to be hospitalized? What happened?” “I was working too hard. I caught a cold and it turned into pneumonia. I’m better now, though, not contagious or anything.” She’s doing it already— reassuring me, enabling my OCD behavior. “You don’t have to do that.” “What?”

“Tiptoe around my aversion to germs. I’m fine.” “Major, can I ask you something?” “Anything.” “Have you ever been diagnosed with OCD? I don’t mean to be insensitive, but your need to have things clean and organized is a little extreme.” Her face is soft and sympathetic, like Katie’s used to be when we first met. I won’t admit that my compulsive behavior is related to OCD. Katie sat me down once with a copy of the diagnostics and statistics manual of mental disorders. She read all the symptoms of obsessive-compulsive disorder and begged me to see a psychiatrist, but I refused to go. “No, I haven’t. It’s been suggested that I see a professional, but I’d rather not. I’m a Marine. Being organized comes with the lifestyle.” “So you don’t think it’s a problem?” she says, shaking her head.

“No, I don’t.” I’m not going down this path today. I don’t want to waste time on my peculiar mannerisms. I want to get to know more about Violet. “Okay then, tell me about your friend, Sabrina. How did you two meet?” I reach out to twist a curl from her ponytail around my finger and examine it. The soft ebony lock naturally forms to my finger. I wish she’d take it down so I could run all of my fingers through it. “Major?” “Hmm?” “Sabrina, how did you meet?” I drop the curl and steady myself to tell her the story I hate to tell. I clear my throat and start at the beginning. “Violet, I used to be married. My wife’s name was Katie.”

“Oh . . . so you’re divorced?” “No, widowed. She died six years ago.” “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she says, reaching out to take my hand and pull me closer. I scoot forward until my leg is pressed against hers. “I didn’t tell you so you’d feel sorry for me. I don’t usually talk about it anymore, but if you’re going to understand my relationship with Sabrina, you need to know about Katie.” “Okay, go on. I can see this is hard for you. I won’t interrupt.” “I appreciate that. I met Katie the year I graduated college. I knew I was going into the Marines immediately after school ended, so I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but she took my breath away. She was so open and free—a lot like you, actually.” She smiles an I don’t want to be compared to your ex but I’m being supportive kind of smile.

“Anyway, one thing led to another, and we got married a year later and moved to Guam, where I was stationed for two years. We got pregnant and had a baby girl. Her name is Malory.” Violet begins to grip my hand like a vice when I mention that I have a child. I know this is all new information for her, but I need to get it all out at once, so I continue telling my story. “Katie suffered a severe form of postpartum psychosis.” I swallow past the lump in my throat that’s always there when I think of Katie’s suicide. “She drove her car into lake Fena with Malory strapped in her car seat.” Violet gasps, and her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh God, Major, no.” “Katie drowned, but someone saw her drive the car in the lake and tried to save her. She swam in and saw Malory in her seat and chose her over Katie. She said Katie wasn’t moving, that she

already looked like she was gone, and she couldn’t leave the baby in the car one way or another. That person was Sabrina.” God, it’s hard speaking those words out loud. Even after six years, it rips my heart apart to know that Katie was suffering so much that she saw suicide as her only way out. I look up from the couch cushion where I’ve been focusing my attention and find Violet’s eyes brimming with tears. “Don’t cry. Come here,” I say and pull her into my lap for the second time today to comfort her. “I’m such a bitch, I’m so sorry,” she sobs into the curve of my neck. “What? Why are you a bitch?” “I was so stupid, assuming you were talking to a girlfriend, and it turns out it was the person who saved your baby’s life. Wait.” She sits up suddenly. “She did save her life, didn’t she?” Her face is so full of hope, it makes my chest ache

knowing she’s concerned about my daughter, a child she’s never met. “Yes, she saved her, and I’m forever indebted to her for that.” She slumps against me again, only to bolt upright a few seconds later. “Where is she? She doesn’t live with you.” “She lives with my sister, Samantha, in Oceanside. She has custody of her.” “Why?” Violet’s beautiful face is twisted with shock and confusion. “I’m a single father in the Marines. I have to be able to ship out at a moment’s notice, and she’s better off with Sam anyway.” “How can a little girl be better off without her daddy?” “I’m no good with kids. I’m too rigid, too direct. Sam has other kids and a wonderful husband. It’s

just a better environment for her to grow up in. I see her everyday, and I spend time with her on the weekends. She knows who I am, and I hope she knows I love her.” Violet lowers her eyes, and I wait while she thinks. “I think you’re wrong.” “About what?” “Your personality traits are who you are. You can’t say she’s better off without you because you’re strict and anal. Those are good qualities in a parent. I do understand the Marine part of it though. Has she always lived with your sister?” “Yes, Samantha took her right after Katie died. I was so grief-stricken I couldn’t take care of myself, let alone a newborn. It wasn’t meant to be permanent at first. She was just supposed to help me transition, but it worked out so well and I got deployed to Iraq, so we made it permanent a year later.”

We sit in silence for a while, her absorbing everything I’ve just said and me reliving it in my head. I try not to think of Katie’s death because I’m mostly responsible for it. I was so busy with work and my own life that I didn’t see how much she needed me. I missed the warning signs. She tried to tell me she didn’t feel well. She tried to show me she was struggling, but I was too concerned with making sure the diapers were stacked in perfect rows on the shelf in her nursery and bottles were sterile and hidden away in the kitchen cupboards. My obsession with lists and keeping supplies stocked consumed my life. When Malory was born, my compulsions became more powerful, more overwhelming. It made me blind to Katie’s depression. I could have saved her if I’d listened and taken her to get help, and Malory wouldn’t have suffered mild brain damage from nearly drowning. “Major?” “Hmm?”

“Will you lay down with me?” “Yeah, here on the couch or on your bed?” “My bed.” I scoop her up and carry her down the hall. She points to the door on the left, and I enter and lay her on her very feminine purple comforter. There’s a lot of purple in here, I notice, looking around, but her name is Violet, so go figure. She likes photographs and candles and knickknacks. Every surface in the room is covered with them, and it makes me cringe inside. She has an antique rocking chair in the corner of the room with clothes thrown on it, unfolded and wrinkled. I’m going to have to close my eyes and forget the chaos around me if I expect to stay in Violet’s bedroom. She scoots over, and I curl around her from behind and shut my eyes. I’ll be all right as long as I don’t look at it . . . I hope. The warmth and comfort of her body soothes my anxiety, and I don’t even remember falling asleep.

Violet is like medication for my obsessive behavior. When I touch her, the restless, uneasy feeling in my chest disappears and I feel like I can cope. I’m grateful she didn’t ask me to leave when I told her how Katie died and that I had a daughter. That’s a lot of baggage on top of her suspicions about my OCD. I’m not the kind of man for her. She deserves better, but I think I may be falling in love with her and I’m too selfish to give up on this second chance.

CHAPTER 2 0

VIOLET

Orgasmic Cupcakes I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him I’m pregnant after that heart-wrenching story about his wife and daughter. And he thinks he’s not good with kids, ugh. How will I ever tell him he’s going to have another? I think he’s still sleeping, but I really have to pee. Maybe if I slip out carefully, I won’t disturb him. I try, but it’s useless. His arms are wrapped tight

around my body and his legs are tangled with mine. I’ll have to wake him. “Major?” “Yeah?” “Oh, you’re awake. I really need to go to the bathroom. Could you let me out?” He slides his legs out from between mine and loosens his arms. “I wasn’t going to let you sleepwalk away from me again,” he says while I stand next to the bed doing a pee pee dance. I swear, pregnancy shrinks your bladder. I pee ten times more per day than I ever have. “Thank you for keeping me safe from myself. I usually only sleepwalk at night though. I don’t know why.” “Go on, hurry up now before you pee your pants.” “What time is it?” I call from across the hall when

I sit down on the toilet seat. “Eighteen thirty,” he calls back. I slept for two hours and I could still go back for more. Sleep and pee, pee and sleep. Pregnancy is a wheel of magnified necessary bodily functions, and I’m tired of going around and around. When I return to the bedroom, Major is gone. I hear him in my kitchen. Lord, I hope he’s not checking my cupboards. I throw stuff in there willy-nilly when I grocery shop. My cans and boxes are far from organized. When I come around the corner, he’s arranging Sayeed’s flowers in a vase, picking off the dead blooms and brown leaves. “They needed water,” he says plainly. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.” “Yes I did. They were just lying there on your table . . . dying.”

“Well, thank you again. I was just going to throw them out, but since you’ve gone to the trouble, I can put them on the table and we can—” He scoops up the flowers, tosses them in the trash, and dumps the water from the vase down the drain. “Okay then, never mind.” “I was trying to be mature, but I’d much rather you not be reminded of another man every time you look at those flowers.” A smug smile slides across his face and my heart flutters. It actually flutters like it skips a beat. He’s jealous and possessive, but in a good way. It’s cute. There’s a pink box on the counter behind him. “What’s this?” I say, opening it up. “Oh my God, cupcakes. You remembered!” My mouth waters when I peruse the beautiful little masterpieces. “They’re so pretty. I don’t want to ruin them, but I’m going to,” I say, bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet. I pluck the one

labeled, Peanut Butter Passion from the box, and he happily watches me bite into it with the enthusiasm of a toddler. “Good?” he asks when I close my eyes and moan. God, I love sugar. This baby has a serious sweet tooth, and this cupcake is going to make him or her very happy. “Orgasmic.” His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really? I’ll have to remember that. I’m not sure how I feel about you eating orgasmic cupcakes.” “You should feel really, really good. Here, try,” I say, holding the cupcake up for him to taste. He takes a bite, and I know right away he feels the same way. “That is an exceptional cupcake.” He has a little bit of frosting on his lip, and I stand on my tiptoes to lick it off. He stills with our lips touching, not moving, and then, without looking, he

removes the cupcake from my hand and puts it back in the box. His hands slide down my back until they cup my ass, and he swiftly lifts me onto the counter. My breath is coming in little puffs as he reaches up to pull the rubber band out of my hair, causing it to tumble down my back and shoulders. He still hasn’t kissed me, but just being this close to him causes my heart to race, and my core trembles like a volcano waiting to erupt. He combs his fingers through my hair, and with one hand tugs my head back, exposing my neck. When his lips touch my skin, it feels like fire and ice. I don’t know who’s hot and who’s cold, but his lips and tongue burn a trail up my throat to my ear. The tip of his tongue traces my earlobe, and his breath in my ear is too much. I grab his shirt and frantically pull it from his jeans and start unbuckling his belt. “I want you to fuck me on the counter, Major,” I pant while he unbuttons my blouse and pops my sensitive breasts out over the cups of my bra. He bends down to trace one of my stiff buds with his

tongue, and I wrap my legs around his waist and drop my head back with a thump against the cupboard behind me. “I intend to do just that,” he says in a low, gravelly, seductive voice that makes my core pulse with anticipation. I shrug my top off. Thank God I’m not showing yet. I’ve noticed changes in my body. My hips are a smidgen wider and my breasts are plumper. Leggings and tunic tops are my clothing of choice lately, but my baby bump is nearly invisible to anyone but myself. I need to tell him, but not yet, not now, not today. He unclasps the front hook of my bra, freeing my breasts. His mouth is on mine now. Finally. Our tongues explore and reacquaint. His teeth nip and tug on my lips, desperate for more of me, and I know exactly how he feels. Close isn’t close enough. I need him inside me. I lift his shirt and our lips briefly separate when I

pass it between us and throw it on the floor. I skim my hands over his chiseled abdominal muscles and break free from his mouth to kiss a trail along his jaw, behind his ear, and down his neck to his chest, where I give him a taste of his own medicine and circle his nipple with my tongue. His skin is salty and delicious. I want to lick every inch of him. I continue kissing until I reach his navel, where I swirl my tongue over the surface of it and lick all the way up his washboard stomach and his defined pectorals. A deep, guttural growl begins in his chest and ends in a muffled moan when I cover his mouth with mine. He slips his fingers inside the elastic waistband of my leggings and peels them down. I place my palms flat on the counter and lift my ass while he pulls them over my hips and I rub my legs together, kicking them off. I’ve managed to unbuckle his belt, but that’s as far as I’ve gotten between kissing and touching every part of him I can reach. Not to worry. He’s out of them in a flash with his rock hard cock pressing against my belly in seconds. I

dig my nails into his muscular ass and pull him closer. He slips a finger between my folds and growls into my mouth, and I feel his cock twitch against my belly. “Fuck, you get so wet for me, Violet, so, so wet,” he says, dragging the slickness of my arousal forward and circling my clit with his finger. “I’m dying to taste you again, but I can’t wait. I need to be inside you. I’m sorry.” I don’t take the time to tell him there’s no need to apologize. He rubs the head of his cock down my slit and slides in balls deep with one swift thrust. My head hits the cupboard again, harder this time, but I don’t feel pain, only intense pleasure. I clench my legs around his body and dig my heels into the small of his back. My hands are palm down against his chest, holding him back to give him better leverage. I like this position. I can look into his eyes. Major’s eyes are the most interesting shade of blue. They’re usually a mixture of ocean blue

and cornflower blue, but right now, full of passion and emotion, they’re black rimmed with a sliver of pale blue surrounding his pupils. I see so many things in his eyes as he pumps in and out of me, desire, understanding, respect, even a touch of sadness. I think I may feel more than just enamored or hungry for this man. I think I feel love. “Major,” I exhale his name when he pushes deep inside me. “I think I might love you,” I say, and he pauses. I don’t know where that came from. I don’t know why I just blurted that out in the middle of mindblowing sex. I have no control over my mouth. It just happened. His grip on my hair tightens, and he pushes deeper into me. He lunges for my mouth, kissing me hard. He pounds into me relentlessly with such force that I have to hold onto the counter with one hand to keep from falling. I’m so close when he lifts me off the counter. His

mouth abandons mine, my body molds to his, and he buries his face in my neck, forcing me to do the same. He yells, but I can’t make out what he says because the volcano that’s been brewing between my legs erupts at that exact moment, and I sink my teeth into his shoulder. “Fuck yes, Violet, I love you,” he pants as his cock pulses deep inside me. I will never forget this moment for as long as I live. Major’s fierceness, my pounding heart, his declaration of love and the rusty taste of his blood on my tongue. Absolute perfection. We cling to each other, catching our breath, coming down from the highest high imaginable. “I want to take you and those orgasmic cupcakes over to the couch and do this again, but I don’t want to mess it up, it’s so . . . white,” he says against my neck. “It’s scotch guarded, and if we ruin it, I’ll buy a

new one.” I feel him smile against my skin and he easily lifts me off the counter with one arm. He grabs the pink box and carries me to the long white sectional. I’ve always hated this couch anyway. It was Luke’s fabulous idea to buy such an impractical piece of furniture. It would be nice to have a reason to replace it, and I can’t think of a better way to ruin it than having messy orgasmic cupcake sex on it with Major Sawyer Steele.

CHAPTER 2 1

MAJOR

THOT Getting my ass chewed by a superior isn’t the way I enjoy starting my day, but I think it brought a tiny bit of joy to Corporal Jamison’s heart. I’ve been such a prick to him lately that he deserves some retribution, even if he isn’t dishing it out personally. After a night of licking frosting from every inch of Violet’s body, talking until dawn, and the two-hour

drive home that should have only taken forty-five minutes, I should be exhausted. But I’m not. Quite the opposite, in fact. For the first time in months, I feel rested and light and—fuck, I don’t know— happy, I guess. It’s been forever since I told a woman other than Sabrina that I loved her, and the fact that Violet confessed it first made it all that much sweeter. I’m not going to lie. I was worried about the good doctor. But, there’s no way she could have done the things she did to me last night with another man on her mind, and I intend to keep it that way. I’m going back down to San Diego Friday to spend the weekend with Violet and double date with Garcia and Kimber. They’ve become pretty close. I wouldn’t be surprised if he pops the question before her baby is born. My blood boils every time I think of her cock sucking ex-husband and the way he left her high and dry when she got pregnant— with his own fucking kid. What kind of Marine does that? What kind of man does that? I wonder if he’s noticed the subtle changes in his duties over

the past few months. Ranking Major has its advantages, and Karma’s a bitch . . . sucker. I’m looking forward to dinner tonight with Malory at Sam’s. She’s such a good mother. She must have inherited good mama genes from our biological mother, because our adopted mother doesn’t even deserve the title. My phone vibrates on my desk and I pick it up. A picture of Malory that I’ve assigned to Samantha’s number flashes on the screen. I click the accept button. “Hey, what’s up? How are my girls?” “You sure are chipper today,” Sam says. I can tell right away that something’s off. Her usual musical voice is monotone and flat. “It’s been that bad, huh?” “Yep, you were putting the dick in ridiculous for sure.” I chuckle. Even when something’s wrong, Sam tells

it how it is. “I wanted to talk to you before you came over tonight.” “What’s wrong? Is it Malory? Is she okay?” “No, she’s fine. It’s not about her . . . well, not directly anyway. Sawyer, Craig wants a divorce. There’s someone else,” her words trail off, and I hear her start to cry. Fuck. “Sam, why haven’t you said anything until now? Is he sure about a divorce? It seems sort of sudden.” She sniffles and blows out a shaky breath. “I didn’t know. God, Sawyer, I had no idea he wasn’t happy or that he was screwing around on me. Some woman called the house the other day. She said she was sleeping with my husband and I needed to wake up and smell the coffee. I told her to go to hell and mentioned it to Craig that night in bed. He admitted he was cheating on me and asked me for a

divorce all in the same breath.” She starts to softly cry again. She doesn’t deserve this. Nobody does, but Samantha has been a model wife for going on ten years. She skipped college to help put Craig through medical school, and she helped him open his own chiropractic clinic. She sacrificed years of her life taking care of him and their children—and mine. Malory . . . she won’t be able to take care of Malory if she’s single, with no degree and no career. That’s got to be why she’s calling. “Sam, we’ll get through this. We always do. I’m here for you. I’ll help you any way I can. You know that.” “I know.” Her breath hitches between sobs. “But what am I going to do? I won’t have a job. I’ve been doing the books for Craig’s office for years, and I never got a chance to go back to school.” “One thing at a time. I’ll have a talk with Craig tonight when I come over and find out what the hell

is going on. In the mean time, you call this number. Do you have a pen?” “Uh huh.” “555-9218. That’s Brad Stetson. He’s my lawyer. Tell him I gave you his number and explain your situation. If Craig’s going to be a dick about this, you need good representation. He’s going to have to pay you alimony and child support. You won’t be broke. I’ll find a way to take Malory back to ease the burden if need be. Just take care of yourself for now and leave the rest to me.” “I don’t want to give her up, Sawyer. She’s my daughter just as much as she is yours, but if I can’t make it, I don’t want her to suffer, you know?” “Sam, it’s all right. We will figure it all out. Just call Brad, okay?” “Okay, I love you, big brother. Thank you,” she says with a wet sniffle. “I love you too, Sis. Dry your tears. I’ll see you

soon.” “Bye.” She hangs up the phone, and I want to hurl mine across the room against the wall. So much for my good mood. I swear, I’m gonna kill that pansy ass motherfucker when I get my hands on him for hurting my sister like this. I don’t want Malory in that kind of environment. She doesn’t need to be witness to a crumbling marriage and all the fallout that comes with it. Sam wouldn’t come right out and ask me to take her, but I know it would ease her responsibility. I don’t know what I’m going to do, though. I can’t be a single father and a Marine, but I can’t be a father without a job either. All this because fucking Craig can’t keep his dick in his pants. It’s past dinnertime. I wasn’t in the mood to sit down and play big happy family with my sister and Craig. I’m not good at keeping my anger under my hat, and I’m so angry with Craig right now, I feel

borderline homicidal. I pull into the double driveway of their fourbedroom suburban cookie cutter house and brace myself for combat. Before I can get out and storm the front line, a text pings on my phone. It’s Violet. Just seeing her name is like a dose of Valium. Every twisted muscle in my neck relaxes, and I open the text to see what she has to say. I miss you and your cupcakes, and thank you for the sunglasses. I wore them today. They’re beautiful – Love, Target girl Visions of pink and white frosting smeared on her silky dark skin fill my head, and the fury that was just pumping through my arteries lessons. Violet may have singlehandedly saved old Craig’s life with her simple text. I’m glad you liked them. I miss you too. I loved watching you lick frosting off my—well, you were there. I don’t have to tell you. I’ll bring more dessert Friday – Love, MSS

I press send just as a little hand knocks on my window. “Daddy, look what I made!” Malory slaps what I can only guess is a painting of abstract art on my window, and it’s still wet. I stretch my neck left and right and open the door. Its times like this that I know I did the right thing letting Sam raise Malory. I can blame almost every neurotic idiosyncrasy I have on the Corps, but this? This is OCD, pure and simple. “It’s stuck,” she says, pushing her bottom lip out in a pout. “That’s okay, it’s beautiful, honey.” I close the door and hug her tentatively. She’s got blue paint in her hair and on her cheek, but I do my best not to show how much it bothers me. I peel the painting off my window and hold it out away from my body by the only corner that’s dry. My skin is crawling, and that familiar ball of anxiety starts to ravel in my chest.

Sam appears out of nowhere and grabs the painting from my hand. “Oh, honey, let’s keep your artwork inside. We don’t want it to get ruined, and it’s not dry yet. Hey, Sawyer.” She kisses me on the cheek, and I take Malory’s slimy hand and grimace as we head inside. “Daddy’s going to wash his hands. Why don’t you come with me and wash up, too?” I say, making a beeline for the closest bathroom. “Can she take a shower, Sam?” I call over my shoulder. The more I look at her, the more paint I see. I wonder why I can smear frosting on Violet’s skin from head to toe, but I can’t stand the feel or sight of paint on my little girl. Something about that woman makes me almost normal. “Sure, knock yourself out. Dinner’s in fifteen minutes.” I rinse our hands in the sink and turn on the shower.

“Arms up.” She lifts her arms high, giggling when I brush my pinky fingers against her bare armpits. I peel her shirt off and let her take off her own shorts. She steps in and immediately, the bottom of the tub is covered in green and blue paint. I watch it flow down the drain and think about how it would be to have Malory living with me in my house. I’m so flawed, so damaged. I can’t imagine living in an environment that’s not sterile and catalogued. Children are the opposite of sterile. Violet is wrong. Being anal isn’t a good quality in a parent. It’s stifling and suppressive. Kids need to be allowed the freedom to grow and express themselves. They require endless amounts of patience and understanding, undivided attention, and time. I have nothing to offer this beautiful child who looks so much like her mother. Looking at Malory is like looking into Katie’s eyes every time I see her, a constant reminder of what a failure I was as a husband.

“Daddy, I need shampoo. I can’t reach it.” Malory is pressed against the side of the shower, reaching for the bottle of shampoo. I take it down and squirt some into my hands and lather her hair. Even the suds are light blue. “How did you get so messy?” I ask. “Auntie Sam said go crazy!” she yells, waving her arms in big circles. Yep, sounds like Sam. “And guess what, Daddy?” “What, honey?” “She let me paint at Uncle Craig’s desk.” I laugh. Now I’m getting the whole picture. Samantha’s finding her own ways to seek revenge on a whole different level. “That’s great. I hope you were super messy,” I say and dab a clump of soapsuds on her nose. Her mouth hangs open and she gasps. “You do?” I stretch to remove the showerhead from its cradle

to rinse her hair. “Yes, is that so hard to believe?” “Yes,” she says matter of factly and presses her lips together in a straight line, as if she’s daring me to say otherwise. She’s right. She’s only six, and she knows I have a problem. Maybe I should finally consider Katie’s suggestion and take my ass to a psychiatrist. I can’t imagine it would help. Old dogs don’t learn new tricks, and I’m getting to be an old dog. “Okay, smarty pants, let’s get you out so we can eat dinner. What’s Auntie Sam making for dinner?” “Pot roast.” She cups the side of her mouth and whispers, “And vegetables, ew.” “You don’t like vegetables much, do you, Mal?” “No, hate ‘em.” “We can just eat roast, then. How’s that?” “Dope.”

I stop rubbing her hair dry with the towel and throw my head back and laugh. This kid is killing me with her responses today. “Did you just say dope?” “Yup.” “Where’d you learn that?” “From Davy.” I shake my head and wrap the towel around her, tucking the corner in along the top edge to keep it from falling off. I point her in the direction of her room and gently swat her behind. “Get dressed, Boo, and hurry.” She takes off running, her little feet slapping against the hard wood. I search under the sink for bleach to clean the sink and shower with, and when I’m done, I take Malory’s paint-covered clothes to the kitchen and open the stainless steel garbage can with the foot pedal. I’m about to drop them in when Sam stops me.

“Those are salvageable, you know. It’s just paint.” “I wonder if Craig will be able to salvage his office.” A sly he can go fuck himself smile slides across her face. “She told you about that, did she? Little traitor. She was supposed to keep that a secret.” “Where is Mr. Wonderful anyway?” “Probably with THOT.” “I’m sorry, with what?” “It’s slang for that hoe over there. The kids have been decoding the latest slang for me.” “Ah, I see. That explains Malory using dope as an adjective.” “Yep, she’s dope.” “You guys are having a lot of fun today. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you for giving me your lawyer’s number. He reassured me, as you did, that my future isn’t so dim. I’m still in shock and my heart’s in a billion pieces, but I have you, so . . .” She gives me a side hug with one arm while she stirs something on the stove. “Yup, you got me, and I’m pretty legit.” Her eyes light up. “You’ve been brushing up on slang too.” “I work with young Marines. I hear things.” “Huh, yeah I guess you do, don’t you? So tell me what—or who—is making you so much more tolerable today?” “Remember when I told you I bumped into a woman at Target a few months ago, and then saw her at a bar that night?” “Yes, I believe that’s when you started acting like a major douche waffle.” I chuckle. “Yeah, and I believe douche waffle may

be one of the slang terms you want to cut from your arsenal. I think it’s out.” “Whatever, I like it, and I think I’ll be able to work it into a lot of conversations in the immediate future. Anyway, did you find your Target girl again?” “Yes, I did.” “Finally came to your senses, huh?” “Something like that, yes.” “I never thought I’d see the day you would want to spend more than one night with a woman, but then again, I never thought I’d see the day Craig asked for a divorce either.” Her voice cracks at the mention of Craig. “Let’s talk about something else, Sis.” “No, tell me about her. I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I promise, no more tears.” “You sure?”

“Positive.” “Her name is Violet, and she’s a computer software designer for Facebook in San Diego.” “What a beautiful name.” “She’s a beautiful woman.” Sam stops stirring and places the wooden spoon across the pan. She turns around, and with her hands on her hips, she clucks her tongue and shakes her head back and forth. “You, Major Sawyer Steele, are in love. I’ve haven’t heard that tone in your voice for years.” I smirk and shrug my shoulders. No sense denying it. She throws her arms around my neck and hugs me fiercely. Malory runs into the kitchen, followed by her eight-year-old ‘brother’, Davy, and sevenyear-old ‘sister’, Summer. “Ew, why are you guys huggin?” Davy says,

clearly repulsed by our show of affection. “Daddy loves Auntie Sam, duh,” Malory says with an air of superiority. “Your Uncle Sawyer has a girlfriend,” Sam says. Summer’s face falls. She’s always had a crush on her Uncle Sawyer. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be my girl,” I say pulling her into our hug. She smiles with that reassurance. “Hey, what bout me?” Malory says, squeezing in for her share of love. I can’t take anymore crowding, and Sam senses it, releasing me and clapping her hands together. “Ok, now let’s get back to business here. Malory, get the salad out of the refrigerator. Davy, fill up the glasses with lemonade, and Summer, fold up some paper towels for napkins. Hurry up, chop, chop.” The kids all snap into action, working together, and

I stand in awe of my sister. I can command two hundred Marines, but they asked to be there. If they don’t do what I say, they’re out. Kids have to constantly be convinced they want to be part of a team, and my sister is a pro at that. We sit down and eat. Craig doesn’t show up, and I can tell my sister is having a difficult time. She’s probably having visions of her husband screwing some young twat in a hotel room on the beach. He must be having some sort of quarter-life crisis or something. His life is the definition of perfect. His wife is gorgeous, kind, hard working and faithful. Those are rare qualities in a woman these days. He has a thriving business and a good career, kids who love him, financial security, and a wife who loves him. Who fucks that up for a piece of ass? I play a couple of board games with the kids and throw a football to Davy in the yard before calling it a night. Craig’s still not home when I leave, and I’m worried about my sister, which means I’m worried about my daughter. It’s an impossible position to be in. I want to protect her from the

hardships the family is about to experience, but taking her home with me, even temporarily, is unfathomable.

CHAPTER 2 2

VIOLET

Sexting “You okay over there, Violet?” Marie asks, popping her head around her monitor. We decided to move her desk into my office for our latest project so we don’t have to keep running back and forth between our offices all the time. Now the only things separating us are our thirty-inch computer monitors. “Brazilian wax this morning,” I say, sitting up on

one cheek, cringing. She scrunches up her face, and a shiver runs through her body. “Oh God, say no more. Wait, do say more. Why are you waxing your lady bits? Do you have a hot date?” “Not tonight, but this weekend, yes. It’s with the guy I met a few months back in Oceanside when I went down for the wedding that never happened.” “Mr. Hot Marine from the sidewalk?” “That’s the one. Hey, I could ask him if he has any nice friends to hook you up with.” She instantly shakes her head no. “I’ll just live vicariously through you, Violet. Thanks though.” “Such a waste. You’re a great person, Marie, you know?” “Sure, great,” she says, rolling her eyes.

I’m having trouble concentrating today, what with the sting between my legs from being waxed and the excitement of my upcoming weekend. I can’t wait to see Major again. Double dating with Kimber and Garcia will be fun too. That’s something I don’t have much of anymore—fun. I’ve been waxed head to toe, I had a mani/pedi, and I even had my hair trimmed. The only thing I’m worried about now is my baby bump. It decided to pop out this week of all weeks, and unless I blame it on being bloated after a big meal, I’m going to have some explaining to do soon. Major knows my body well enough to notice a change like this. I’m in pretty good shape, so the smallest amount of weight gain is easy to see. I’m still fine in clothes, but naked, different story. I think it’s time to tell the Major he’s going to be a daddy again. Ever since I learned how he feels about fatherhood, I’m concerned now more than ever about his reaction. “You wanna take an early lunch today?” I ask

Marie. “Sure. Why? What’s up?” “I’m just sort of worthless today. I think I need some fresh air.” “Yeah, or some shopping.” This surprises me. Marie isn’t exactly fashion conscious, and neither am I. I have to let a salesperson put all my outfits together. The only things I’m any good at picking out are lingerie and shoes. “We could. Anything specific you have in mind? I’m not the best shopper, in case you didn’t notice.” I pinch my boring white shirt at the shoulder, lifting up the material and dropping it. “I like the way you dress. It’s so . . . I don’t know, so—” “So I don’t give a shit what people think?” “Yes, that!”

“Well, if that’s the look you’re going for, I’m your girl. Let’s go.” Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in the middle of a lingerie boutique on Mission Blvd. holding up a pair of lacy black and red, barely there panties. What the hell am I’m doing here? I’m pregnant. This stuff is what you wear to get pregnant. It’s too late for that. I don’t even know what Major likes, but here I am, picking out uncomfortable sexy underthings to stuff my pregnant body into. “I like those,” Marie says from behind me. I turn around and find her with ten of the skimpiest pieces in the store dangling from velvet hangers. “Uh, Marie, is there something you’d like to tell me? Like are you a closet sex kitten or something?” “Oh gosh no. These aren’t for me, they’re for you,” she says, thrusting the scraps of lace and satin into my hands. I must be doing a better job of hiding my extra pounds than I thought. She’s gotta be kidding,

thinking I can fit into some of these things. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe they aren’t actually supposed to ‘fit’. “Go try them on. Fitting room is back there.” “You’re pretty familiar with this place, Marie. You sure you haven’t been here before?” “I have a friend who shops here. I help her sometimes.” “Okay then, I’ll see what I can do.” In the dressing room, I strip down and turn to the side to look at the profile of my belly. There’s definitely a bump. I swear it’s bigger now than it was this morning before work. Can that happen? Do babies grow that fast? No, of course not. I’m not growing a vampire like Bella in Twilight. It’s just my imagination. Has to be. I slip into a black little number—emphasis on little —and look at myself in the mirror with my hands on my hips. Not bad. It camouflages Mr. or Ms.

Bump nicely. Definitely a contender. Next up is a white three-piece set with a garter that works nicely over my tummy too. Number three is a nofucking-way, and four and five are out as well. When I’m slipping out of the last set, a perfectly manicured hand thrusts a baby doll nighty and matching panties between the slit in the curtain. “I thought you might prefer something with a little more coverage in your condition,” says a voice I don’t recognize. I poke my head out, holding the curtain around my body, and find a saleswoman in her thirties or forties, smiling unapologetically. “What do you mean, in my condition?” She lowers her eyes to my bump and then back to my face. “How did you know?” She shrugs. “It’s my job to know women’s bodies. I could just tell. You should really tell your

girlfriend, you know. It’s obvious by her choice of lingerie that she has no idea.” “She’s not my girlfriend. We work together, and she’s not gay.” I don’t think. “Huh. Could have fooled me. Anyway, give that a try. It’s comfortable and sexy. I’m sure you’ll like it.” She turns on her stiletto heel and struts away onto the sales floor. Marie, gay? Maybe she’s right. The cornflower blue baby doll set compliments my brown skin perfectly, and it’s so much more comfortable. Nosy sales lady seems to know best. I dress in my own clothes, and when I arrive at the register to pay, Marie is waiting, holding a bag with secretive tissue paper poking out the top in her hand.

“You bought something.” I raise one brow and give her a nod of approval. “Yeah, it’s not much. Did you like anything?” “I’m getting these.” I hold up the baby doll set and the black one-piece Marie picked out. It won’t fit for long, but I think I’m good for the weekend. “Perfect.” Outside, Marie and I decide to walk down the busy street to a café for lunch. I’ve been really lucky, according to the books I’ve been reading. They say that if I were going to have morning sickness, it probably should have started by now. Smells, on the other hand—now that’s a different story. The smell of a street vendor’s Greek food stops me in my tracks. “You okay?” Marie asks when I halt in the middle of a sidewalk swarming with people. I hold up one finger and cover my mouth with my other hand. I lower my eyes to the ground and take

a deep breath, waiting for my mouth to quit watering. When I’m 90% sure the nausea has passed, I start walking. “Sorry, those Gyros almost made me vomit.” “Yeah? I thought they smelled good.” I shake my head vigorously and lead Marie into the café. Safe inside away from the smells of the street, I start to feel better when a hostess seats us at a table by the window. Thankfully, there is an awning blocking the hot midday sun. I can’t put off asking Marie if she’s gay for another second. “Marie?” “What?” she says, rummaging through her purse. “Are you a lesbian?” She drops the lip-gloss she was just digging for back into her purse and she looks at me, panicked. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I was just wondering.”

She takes a deep breath and hangs her purse on the back of her chair. “Yes, sort of. I’m Bi, but nobody at work knows I have a girlfriend. Please don’t mention it.” “Of course not. I would never say anything that you don’t want me to say, but why?” “I just don’t think it’s anybody’s business. They don’t need to know I swing both ways.” “Okay, well that makes sense then. I always wondered why such a pretty woman didn’t have a boyfriend.” “Thanks.” “It’s true.” “No, thanks for understanding, and for keeping it on the down low.” “It’s no big deal, but since we’re spilling secrets, can I tell you one?”

“Of course. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.” “I’m pregnant.” It feels so weird to say it out loud. I haven’t told anyone, and Mom heard it secondhand from Dr. Kumar, so this is the first time I’ve spoken the words. “Wow,” she says. “I know.” “I mean, wow. I thought being bisexual was a big secret, but pregnant? Wow.” “Stop saying wow. It’s starting to freak me out.” “Okay, sorry.” “Who’s the dad—oh wait, it’s not Major hot pants, is it?” I nod yes. “Oh wow.”

“Marie!” “Sorry. Does he know?” “No, I’m telling him this weekend.” “How far along are you? Oh no, wait, like twelve weeks, right? You met him three months ago.” “Yes, exactly twelve weeks.” “No morning sickness?” “Thankfully, no, just sensitive to smells. “You look amazing.” “Thanks, I feel pretty good too. A little tired, but that’s normal, I guess.” “Can I tell you another secret?” she says, lowering her eyes to her lap. “Sure, what is it, Marie?” “I had a baby once. I gave him up for adoption.” “Oh Marie, I didn’t mean to bring up a painful

experience. I’m so sorry.” “No, it’s fine. I was nineteen and I had no way to support myself, let alone a baby. My parents handled the whole thing. He was better off.” “Anyway, I know about being pregnant if you ever have any questions.” “Thank you, I appreciate that. I haven’t told anyone, so you’re all I got right now.” She places her hand on her chest. “I’m honored you chose me to be the first to know, even if it was spontaneously and because I told you I’m bisexual,” she says, tilting her head and looking up thoughtfully. We laugh and have lunch and skip out on work for the rest of the day. At home, I snip the tags off my purchases and fold them neatly in a drawer. I’ve become more conscious of being tidy recently. A certain Marine is rubbing off on me. Well, I guess I wouldn’t go

that far, but I’m usually pretty messy and he’s a good influence. My apartment has never been cleaner. Except for my couch. Every time I walk through the living room, I laugh. I’ve considered taking a picture of the rainbow stained cushions and texting it to Lucas, but he’s not worth my time. I ordered new living room furniture the day after our cupcake session. It was liberating. I loved it. I waste away the rest of the day watching Netflix. I wish Major were here so we could Netflix and chill. Maybe I’ll text him. Yes, I definitely need to text him. Curled up on my rainbow couch, looking as unsexy as I can in my yoga pants, a tank top and big, fuzzy socks, I send a sext to Major. Me - What are you wearing? Major – Depends, who is this? Me – Rainbow bright. Major – Ah, I remember you. White couch . . .

frosting . . . mmm. Me – Yep, so what are you wearing? Major – Black boxers. My mouth waters, and it’s not from nausea. Me – That’s all? Major – Yes, what are you wearing? I look down at my sad sleepwear and sigh. It’s not lying if it’s for a good cause, right? Me – White lace boy short panties and a push up bra. There’s a long pause before his response. Maybe he doesn’t sext? Then my phone pings again. Major – Are you in bed? Oh he sexts all right. Me – Yes. Major – Take off your panties.

Oh God, am I actually going to do this? Yes, yes I am. I hop off the couch and go into my room. I scrunch my socks down with my feet and kick them off and take off my yoga pants and panties. I’m going to have to switch to voice texting if I wanna do this right, and I want to do this right. Major – Are they off? Me – Yes. Major – Pull your bra down under your breasts. Me – Okay. Major – Touch yourself. Me – I am. Major – Are you wet, Violet? I love your fucking name, Violet. Have I ever told you that? Me – Yes, I’m wet, really wet, and yes, I think you’ve told me that before. Major – Good. I’m in my bed now. I’m so hard for

you it hurts. Shit, this is better than I thought it’d be. Me – Good. I love your big cock. Stroke it long and slow. Major – Fuck, Violet, you have a dirty mouth. I love it. Keep talking. Me – Think about my dirty mouth wrapped around your cock, taking every inch of you, sucking you dry. Do you like that, Major? Major – Yes, I fucking love that. Violet? Me – Yeah? Major – Slide your fingers inside your wet pussy, curl them around, and stroke your sweet spot. I’m thankful to Lucas for one thing and one thing only. He showed me where my G spot is at. Me – Ah God, that feels so good. Major – Now slide them out and circle your clit

really slow. Do it slow, Violet, understand? Me – Okay, yeah, slow. Major – I wish I were there. I’d lick you back to front and make you come so hard you’d cry. Me – I may anyway. God, Major, are you almost there? Major – Yeah . . . but I’m Facetiming you. I need to see you. Shit! I’m ready to come and he wants to Facetime? I hurry and shed my tank top and try to position myself against the pillows so I look somewhat sexy. What did I get myself into? The phone makes a unique sound, indicating a facetime call is coming in. I press accept, and his gorgeous, flushed face appears. He shakes his head. “You’re so fucking sexy. I want to see you come for me, Violet. Are you ready?”

“Uh huh,” I pant, on the edge of release. My hand is between my legs again, and seeing Major makes me wetter, if that’s even possible. I can see his body move. With every stroke of his cock, the muscles in his chest and shoulders flex. “Hold the phone back a little,” he says, and I try to position it so he can see more of me, but not too much more. I can’t even think straight. I can’t hold on much longer. “Fuck, Violet, you’re so beautiful. Come for me, baby.” His voice trails off in a strangled moan as he comes, and my eyes roll back in my head when the electric shock of my orgasm pulses through me. I drop the phone and ride the high of pleasuring myself at his command. “Violet? I’ve got a great view of your ceiling, baby. Pick up the phone.” I feel around the comforter and find it. “Sorry, I was a little distracted.” “Me too. I’m really glad you texted me. I’ve been

missing you. We should do this more often.” He winks at me, and I almost come again. Major winking is so sexy. Not as sexy as Major coming, but a close second. “I agree, like every night.” “I’m always here. Next time, lets just start with the Facetime and skip the texting. I like to watch you.” I think I may be blushing. My cheeks feel hot. “You’re blushing, Ms. Washington.” I raise my hand to my hot cheek. “Nobody’s ever made me blush before.” “Hmm, good, keep it that way.” I worry my lip and squirm around, slipping under the covers. On my side, I prop the phone on the spare pillow and pretend he’s here in bed with me. “Chilly?” “Yeah, now that I’ve had a minute to cool off.”

“I’m looking forward to keeping you warm this weekend.” He’s propped up on his pillows with his arm behind his head. “I like your tattoo. It’s hot.” “Are you trying to switch the focus off you?” “Yes.” “Can I ask you something?” I say. “You will anyway, so go ahead.” “What does the one on your arm mean?” He has the words never ending story tattooed on his bicep with a continuous line all the way around it. I’ve never asked because I originally assumed it was a reference to being a sex machine or something arrogant, but now that I know about his wife, I’m not sure. “It’s not sexual, if that’s what you’re wondering,

although it can be if you’d like,” he says with a mischievous smile on his lips. “At first I did think you were a little full of yourself.” He rolls his eyes. “It was for Katie. She was supposed to be my never ending story. I got it when we got married. Ironic, huh?” I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” “The past is the past. Maybe I’ll have a never ending story with someone else now.” I look away from the screen. I don’t want him to see how much I wish that someone else could be me. “Don’t look away, Violet. I’m talking about you. You believe me when I tell you that, don’t you? I don’t ever want you to doubt how I feel for you again. I don’t do this. I mean it . . . never. I’m a hit it and quit it kind of guy, or at least I was until you

came crashing into my life.” I can’t hold back anymore. These pregnancy hormones are a bitch. Tears spill from my eyes, pooling against my nose on one side and streaking onto my pillow from the other. If he were here with me right now, I’d tell him I’m pregnant. That has to be a face-to-face conversation though. I couldn’t spring that on him and then hang up the phone. I would wonder what he was thinking, how he was feeling, if he was angry or happy. I need to be able to touch him and feel his body language when he finds out, preferably in bed, where he won’t leave me alone . . . I hope. “You bumped into me,” I say, laughing and crying at the same time. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.”

CHAPTER 2 3

MAJOR

Precious Cargo TGI fucking Friday. I have never been so glad to see a week come to an end. Edith has my house in perfect order, just the way I like it, and I’m packed and on my way to San Diego with Garcia. We figured we might as well drive up together. It seemed stupid to have two cars when we’re all going the same places. We decided to book two rooms at the Fairmount Grand Del Mar for the

weekend to do some golfing and swimming. I could spend the entire weekend in bed with Violet, but I want to get to know her more outside the bedroom too. “So you and Kimber have been spending a lot of time together huh?” “Yeah, all this driving back and forth is killing me. I’m down here at least three times a week,” Garcia says. “Wow, maybe one of you ought to move,” I say to mess with him. “Somebody’s going to have to. I’m asking her to marry me this weekend.” “Whoa, I was just joking, man. You’re really gonna marry her?” “Yes, you got a problem with that?” He says, sounding genuinely pissed. Garcia’s never been disrespectful or rude to me. He must really have it bad for this woman to be that protective.

“No, just surprised, that’s all. She’s a great girl. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” I slap him on his shoulder, and the deep grooves on his forehead disappear. “Thanks. Sorry. I caught a bunch of shit from my brothers this week when I told them. They think I’m crazy, asking a pregnant woman to marry me.” “Takes a very honorable man to do that. I admire that about you.” “Thanks, it’s good to have somebody on my side.” “So when are you popping the question?” I ask. “Saturday night.” “Doing something trendy or just sticking with the traditional down on one knee method?” “Traditional. I’m not into all that treasure map, ring in the champagne glass shit. I’m serious about her. I want her to know it.” “I agree, straight forward and simple.”

“You don’t think that’s too boring?” “You just told me you wanted her to know you’re serious. Serious isn’t boring, it’s . . . serious.” “Yeah, I’m just nervous, ya know? She’s been burned by marriage once. I’m sorta spooked she might not want to go down that road again.” “Maybe she learned from it and she knows a good thing when she sees it now.” “I fucking hope so.” We check in, and I call Violet from our room. “Hi, beautiful.” “Hi, are you in town yet?” she asks. “Yeah.” “Then why aren’t you here?” “Because I have a surprise for you.” “I love surprises. Tell me.”

“Wouldn’t be a surprise then, silly. Grab a sexy bikini and pack a bag for the weekend. I’ll be over to get you in twenty.” “Are we going somewhere?” She sounds giddy and excited, like a little kid going to Disney World. “Sort of, just bring a swimsuit, a dress, and something casual to wear golfing.” “Golfing? I haven’t been golfing since the week I met you.” “Well, we’re going to change that this weekend. Get packed. I’ll see you soon.” “Okay, bye.”

VIOLET A bikini. Shit, I can’t wear a bikini with this baby bump. But that’s all I’ve got to wear swimming, and I don’t have time to shop. I guess this means I’m telling him before we go to the pool, whenever

that is. We had plans to go to dinner tonight with Garcia and Kimber, so I already have a dress picked out. I toss my toiletries in an overnight bag with a tiny red bikini, my new lingerie, and a couple of casual tops and shorts. I’m ready in only five minutes. Now I get to fidget until he shows up. I love surprises, but I’m not very patient. I grab my dress that is covered in dry cleaner plastic and my bag and go down to the lobby to wait. He pulls up in front of my building precisely twenty minutes after we hung up. I watch him get out of the Lexus and walk to the glass doors. His confident, masculine stride gives me butterflies in my belly. I should stand up and go meet him, but I can’t resist staying put and watching him come to me. When he catches sight of me he saunters over with a smirk on his face. “What’s with the smirk? I ask when he offers me

his hand. “You’re sitting here watching me like a puma stalking her prey. You’ve got fuck me written all over your face.” Without thinking, I lift my hand to my cheek and he laughs. “You’re adorable,” he says and presses a soft kiss to my lips before taking my hand and picking up my bag. “Do you have your own clubs?” he asks. I’m still thinking about having fuck me written on my face, and he has to repeat his question. “Violet?” “Huh?” I say, looking into his bright greens. “Clubs?” “Oh, no, they’re at my mom’s. I don’t have room for them here.”

“I can run and get them tomorrow. That’s fine.” “So what’s the itinerary for the weekend, since we are staying in a hotel instead of my bed?” He stops to open the car door and eyes me carefully. “Are you disappointed?” “About a weekend with you at a hotel? No, of course not. It sounds fun.” “I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry.” The way he says that sounds like a vow instead of a promise. “I’m not worried at all.” I slide in, and he closes the door and walks around to the back to stow my bag away. I’m not worried about the sex this weekend, or my golf clubs, or even wearing my bikini. I’m worried about how Major is going to react when he finds out I’m pregnant. His past is heavily peppered with pain and loss, and his issues with OCD run deep. He could be totally opposed to having another child. He doesn’t even

feel worthy of raising Malory in his own home. I want to meet Malory. She’s a big part of his life, and if he plans on keeping me around for a while, it’s going to be important that I know her. When he’s settled in his seat, I ask him, “Do you think I could meet Malory?” He stills with his hand on the ignition button for a moment. “Yes, maybe you could come up this week one night and have dinner at my sister’s with me,” he says and starts the engine. “Are you sure?” “Yes. I’ve never introduced her to anyone before. I’m not sure how she will react.” “I don’t want to upset her. If you don’t think it’s a good—” “No.” He links his fingers loosely with mine. “You’re part of my life, and so is she. You need to

meet.” I nod in agreement. “Are you ready to go now?” “Yep, let’s get this show on the road.” Major drives like an old woman, slow and careful. I never noticed it when he drove me to his house in Oceanside. I was drunk the first night, and the second night, after the earthquake, nobody was driving faster than 15 mph with all the debris on the roads. “You drive slow.”

MAJOR “Precious cargo.” She is precious cargo, but I always drive carefully. I know how bad it sucks to grow up without good parents, and I don’t want to risk leaving Malory officially an orphan. Everything I do, I do with her in mind. I eat healthy, exercise, get checkups, all

that shit, just to make sure I’ll be around for a long time for her. I owe her that much. When she doesn’t respond, I reach out and take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “What are you thinking?” I ask. “This all feels like a dream.” “Like you’re going to wake up and I’ll be gone and you will never have known me?” “Yes, how did you know?” “I feel the same way sometimes. You’re my second chance for a never ending story, remember?” She’s not just my second chance. She’s my last chance. I never dreamed there would be someone who could tie my heart up in knots the way Katie did. Sin deserves punishment, and my punishment was losing her, but for some reason, I’ve been blessed with love again, and I’m not going to blow it.

“You okay over there?” Violet is an emotional person. She wears her feelings on her sleeve, but today, she seems to be hiding something. “Yes, you’re just too sweet sometimes.” “You don’t know me very well yet,” I say and wink at her. “Oh, I know you think you’re a big tough, Marine but I’m figuring you out.” She pokes me in the chest with her perfectly manicured finger. “Oh really? How’s that?” “Well, for starters, you’re thoughtful and attentive. You remembered how much I love cupcakes, and you noticed me squinting in the sun and bought me sunglasses. Second, you’re a good, responsible daddy. You spend a lot of time with your daughter.” I open my mouth to protest. If that were really true,

I’d be able to change my rigid ways and give up the Marines so Malory could live with me. But she holds up her pretty finger again, indicating that she’s not done yet. “And third, you have a really big . . .” She pauses for dramatic effect. “heart.” “Very funny, Target girl.” “You think you don’t, but I’m a very good judge of character.” “Oh, I know I have a big—” “Stop!” She laughs, swatting at me with her free hand. I love her laugh. I love her free spirit. I love her dirty mouth. I just plain fucking love her. Ten minutes later, we’re pulling into the circle drive of the Fairmount Grand Del Mar Hotel. “This is us.”

“Wow, you said hotel and I thought some little place by the beach or something. This place is swanky.” “Only the best for you, Target girl.” She rolls her eyes. “Is Kimber here yet? I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks.” “Should be. Garcia was taking an Uber to get her when I left to get you.” “Why didn’t he drive his car?” “We came together.” “And see, you’re efficient, too.” She crosses her arms over her chest and nods her head like she’s agreeing with herself. My eyes fall to her breasts that are perched on top of her folded arms. I could just be horny as hell, but they look better than usual, rounder, plumper. My cock twitches. I need to get her into bed. I’m

having my dessert before dinner tonight.

CHAPTER 2 4

VIOLET

Just Relax The door swings open behind us, and we nearly fall into room 511. Major has reached the end of his self-control. I didn’t think we were going to make it out of the elevator. Our lips haven’t separated, and our hands haven’t stopped roaming since we staggered out and down the short hall to our room. I’m glad Kimber and Garcia aren’t here yet. It

wouldn’t have mattered who was in the elevator with us. Major is, for once, out of control, and I love it. This is just what I need before I break my big news. Everything sounds better after sex. Major’s fierceness almost borders on frightening when he kicks the door shut and slams me against the inside of it. He’s pulling at my purse. It drops to the floor. He’s taking his shoes off as he devours my mouth, my neck, my shoulder. I hold onto his waist and toe off my shoes, trying to keep up with him, but it’s not good enough, not fast enough. Over my head my shirt goes. He throws it haphazardly somewhere behind us. I’m shoving his shirt up when he moves my hands and pulls it off from the back of his collar in one fast swoop. I work at the button of his jeans, but I’m fumbling, so he pops it open and yanks down the zipper. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere, so I’m wearing my yoga pants . . . well I was wearing them. He’s got me bare in mere seconds. His hands cup my breasts as he takes turns sucking and pinching them. My head bumps the door when he

crouches to lift my leg over his shoulder. “Major, oh God,” I moan, not even considering that he is essentially face to face with my baby bump. It’s dark and he’s busy. No problem. His tongue slips between my wet folds, and he slides two fingers inside me, curling them around to stroke my sweet spot. I’m wetter than usual. I think it’s the pregnancy, or it could be Major. Who the hell knows? He’s kissing my folds like he kisses my mouth, with frenzy and fervor. He licks my entire slit back to front, electrifying every ultra-sensitive part of my body. I cry out, and he stands before I come, leaving me on the verge of ecstasy and nearly in tears with frustration. “Turn around,” he says in his gravelly, sex crazed voice, and I do as I’m told. He takes my hands, places them on the door on either side of my head, and growls in my ear. “Don’t move.”

I don’t know what’s next, and truly, I don’t care as long as he keeps touching me. I am his. He can have me, every single inch of me however he wants. His energy changes. He’s slowing his advances. He has me where he wants me, and now he’s reigning in his control. He moves my hair over one shoulder and kisses the back of my neck. I feel his lips against my ear when he whispers, “Violet, do you trust me?” I can’t form words with my mouth, so I nod. “Because I’m claiming every part of you this weekend, starting here.” His hand slides between my legs, and his fingers drag the overabundance of moisture to the pucker of my ass, where he swirls it around and slips a finger inside me. I clench my jaw, and my muscles instinctively lock up. “Relax, baby, you have to relax and let me in.”

I make a conscious effort to loosen up like I do in yoga class. I open my mouth and take a deep breath before blowing it out. He kisses my left shoulder, where I have my head turned, cheek against the door. “Good girl.” Another kiss on my back, and his finger slides in easily and then another, stretching and preparing me for what’s to come. I’ve never done this, not even with Lucas. He wanted to, but I wouldn’t let him. Major doesn’t ask . . . he takes. I like it when he is in control. He has a way of making me want to give him anything he wants, even this. His free hand pulls my hips back, and he slides it around front to stroke my clit while his other one is busy making room for his cock. It feels so damn good, I can hardly stand. My knees are weak, my muscles trembling as Major slowly presses his very big, very hard cock against my ass. “Easy . . . that’s it. God, you’re so wet, Violet. I’ve never felt you get so wet like this. You like it, don’t

you?” He slides the head in and stops when I gasp, more out of surprise than pain. “You okay? Am I hurting you?” “Uh uh,” I manage to say. “Good, relax. I’m going in deeper, baby.” And he does, but his hand circling and stroking my clit has me so wound up, and the pressure from behind is so, so good and so intense, I claw at the door and moan. “Fuck, you feel so good. I’m going all the way in now. Hold on.” He slides into me gently, completely, and I’m amazed at how much I like it, how much different it feels than any other experience I’ve ever had. He begins to work in and out, around and around. I’m dizzy and breathless with pleasure. Major’s groans and encouraging words in my ear are what

bring me to climax. I pound my fist on the door and scream. He pumps faster and follows me into the insane portal of rapture. I’m spent, sated, content, and completely weak. I collapse between Major and the door, unable to stand any longer. He slides out and scoops me into his arms. He maneuvers through the pitch-dark room like he has night vision and lays me on the bed. He reaches out, and I panic when it comes to me that he’s going to turn on the light. There’s no place to hide naked on top of the covers, and I’m about to tell him to leave it off when there’s a knock at the door. I thought I was ready to tell him. I really did, but the relief that washes over me when I hear that knock is tremendous. “Shit, it’s Garcia and Kimber. I told them we would go to dinner right away. Cover up.” Gladly.

He flips on the light in the bathroom and grabs a towel to wrap around his waist before opening the door a crack. “Hey, sorry. We got distracted.” I imagine Garcia looking at Major in his towel and smiling. “No problem, man. Meet you downstairs in a few?” Garcia says. “Yeah. Hello, Kimber, nice to see you again. You look lovely.” Ever the gentleman. Even standing naked and postcoital in a hotel doorway, he greets and compliments a woman. “Uh, thanks . . . you too?” The guys both laugh, and I’m sure Kimber is wondering what the hell she’s gotten herself into this weekend. “We’ll be down soon.”

“Okay, man.” The door closes, and I clutch the sheet and comforter to my chest. Major crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed. He tucks my hair behind my ear and looks at me with so many emotions, I can’t sort through them all. “He’s asking her to marry him tomorrow night,” he says, smoothing my hair back over and over. “What? No way,” I say, propping up on my elbow. “Yep, he told me on the drive up. He’s pretty nervous, but I think he really loves her.” Aw shit, here come the water works again. Tears fill my eyes in record time while I try to blink them back, embarrassed. “Hey, what’s wrong?” “N-nothing. It’s just so beautiful.”

He hops onto the bed and spoons me on the outside of the blanket. “You’re a very emotional person, aren’t you?” he says, wrapping his arms around me tightly. I draw in a shuddering breath. “Only lately. It’s embarrassing.” Here’s your chance, Violet, tell him you’re pregnant. Tell him that’s why you’re a running faucet of tears. If ever there were a perfect time, it’s now. “Well, I like it. Being passionate suits you.” He kisses me on the top of my head. I can’t do it. The words won’t come. I physically opened my mouth, but they wouldn’t come out. This isn’t a secret I can keep anymore. I don’t know why I can’t just spit it out. It’s because I’m afraid. I’m so afraid that when I tell him, all of this will come to a screeching halt. We haven’t been

together long. Things are so new, and we haven’t encountered any problems—no fights or roadblocks. This pregnancy could make or break us, and knowing his history, I’m afraid it will be the latter. I’ve tried to imagine living in his house with him and our baby. The sterile, ultra-clean rooms messed up with toys and playpens, bottles and bouncy seats. It’s impossible, there’s no way. What if he wants to still have a relationship but not live together? What if he doesn’t want the baby at all? What if he doesn’t want me? “Let’s get cleaned up for dinner,” he says, swatting my ass. I cringe, and he realizes his mistake. “I’m sorry, are you okay?” “Yeah, just a little sore. I’ve never done that before.”

“Ah, yet another first.” “Yeah, you took my ass virginity,” I say and elbow him hard in the ribs. He laughs, “Never heard it put that way, but I suppose so. You liked it though. It was good.” I have to admit, it was mind-blowing. “I never thought it would feel so good.” “I have so much more to teach you, Target girl. I’m going to enjoy surprising you with new things every night.” Every night? I would love to spend every night of the rest of my life exploring new things with this man—and every day, for that matter. If he doesn’t wile out and board the struggle bus when I tell him he’s going to have another messy, crying, unpredictable, unorganized human being to care for, then yeah, every night sounds amazing.

CHAPTER 25

MAJOR

Dinner Interrupted “I only brought one dress. I thought this was a onedinner weekend.” “I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow.” “I can buy my own dress, thank you very much. And what I meant was I’ll need to run home tomorrow and get another if we’re having dinner out.”

I love her sassy independence. Truth be told, she probably makes more money than I do, but spoiling her is so much fun. “We don’t need to go out tomorrow night. Garcia wants the night alone with Kimber anyway. We can order room service and stay in bed.” “I love that idea.” She wraps both of her arms around one of mine as we walk through the gorgeous foyer of the Del Mar into its five-star restaurant. Violet is seduction in stilettos and a backless, deep purple dress. How she can wear something so loose-fitting and still have me hard as stone is a mystery to me. It could be because I know there’s absolutely nothing under that dress but brown, silky bare skin. The slim spaghetti straps don’t allow for a bra, and the back plunges so far down it would be impossible to wear panties. I’m AOkay with that. Just one less thing I’ll have to take off her when I get her back to our room tonight. Part of me regrets our dinner plans. I’d rather be

eating her in our room, but another part really enjoys seeing her in that dress. I pull out a chair for Violet when we are shown to our table and slide my hand discreetly down her bare back and into her dress, brushing my fingers over the top of her ass. I kiss her on the cheek and whisper in her ear how much I enjoyed our first hour in the hotel. I knew she would let me in. I knew she would like it. What I didn’t know is how fucking great she would feel coming apart in my hands. “Would anyone care for a drink?” the waiter asks after he introduces himself. “I’ll have a scotch on the rocks. Violet, what would you like?” I take advantage of the close proximity of our seats and touch her shoulder. She shivers, and gooseflesh appears on her arm. She looks at me and smiles a we did something naughty smile and I wink at her. She likes it when I wink. Her eyes

darken and she messes with her hair every time. I’m learning her tells—the lusty eyes, the hair twirl, the way she worries her bottom lip. I’ll memorize everything in time. God, I hope we have a lot of time. “No thanks. Kimber can’t drink, so I’ll keep her company and have an iced tea,” Violet says. “Thank you, Violet, I appreciate it. Only twelve more weeks and I can have a margarita. We are so having a girl’s night out,” Kimber says. “It seems like it’s gone by so quickly. I can’t believe you’re going to be a mama in a few weeks,” Violet says, propping her elbow on the table and cradling her chin in her hand. Her expression is wistful, yearning, almost as if she were envious of Kimber’s impending motherhood. What if she is? We haven’t discussed a future together or children or anything other than dating and sex. She’s a young woman. She probably wants kids. Shit, I never even thought about that until this very moment. How could that have never

crossed my mind? I want to give her everything wrapped in platinum and tied up with silk string, but a family? I’m not sure I can do that again. This is something we really need to talk about. It could be a game changer. If there were any chance I could lose her, it would be over this. “It may seem quick to you, but I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever,” Kimber says. “I’ve never known you not pregnant. I think it’ll be weird not having the little cock blocker between us anymore,” Garcia says with a goofy smile on his face. Garcia is crude, but Kimber gets him. She swats at him and laughs. “You’re such a pig, and just wait. I’m hot when I’m not pregnant,” Kimber says. “You’re hot when you are, baby.” Garcia leans over to kiss Kimber on the cheek, and my heart skips a beat.

“Hey . . .” Violet places her hand on my knee. “Are you okay? You’re quiet.” “I’m fine,” I say. The waiter brings our drinks and takes our dinner orders. Garcia and Kimber banter back and forth like an old married couple. I can’t imagine her saying no to him tomorrow unless she’s skittish about marriage because of the way her last one ended. I understand skittish all too well. Maybe I’ll mention that to Garcia when we are alone so he will be prepared. I can’t keep my eyes off Violet. She’s so incredibly stunning, easily the most gorgeous woman in the restaurant. The lighting is dim and shadows play along her shoulders and collarbone. Her dress appears modest from the front, and her back is against a tall backed chair. I’m glad. I didn’t like the way other men were looking at her when we walked through the restaurant to our table. She’s mine, and as much as I enjoy watching her move in that dress, I hate knowing that other men are too.

Violet is engaged in a conversation with Kimber about decorating nurseries when I feel her foot brushing against my leg. One corner of her mouth lifts in a secretive smile, but she never breaks conversation with Kimber. We aren’t seated in a way that we can play footsie under the table, but I think it was just her way of saying I see you watching me. And I am. I slip my hand over her thigh, and she promptly covers it with her own. If she thinks that’s going to detour me, she’s mistaken. She must know it’s borderline torture sitting next to her with nothing but a slinky piece of material separating us. While she and Kimber go on and on about baby names and neutral color palettes, I slide my hand down to her bare knee and push her dress up until I’m at the crease between her legs. Her hand is still on mine as if she wants to control how far I’ll go. She can try all she wants, but I can’t keep my

hands off her. She’s struggling to keep her voice even and normal, but when I slip a finger over her clit, she wavers. She’s wet. I love that she is affected by me no matter where we are. Her grip on my wrist tightens when I slide a finger inside of her and begin a slow figure eight that passes over her clit, inside swiping over her G spot and then out again. Her legs are squeezing my hand so tightly it’s difficult to move, but I don’t stop. She clears her throat and takes a drink of her iced tea. “Would you excuse me, please? I need to use the powder room. I’ll be right back,” she says sweetly and scoots her chair away from the table, forcing me to stop. She stands, wavering so slightly that only I can tell, and only I know why. I watch her bare back move

further and further away from our table. “I’m just going to check on her, you know, make sure she’s okay. I’ll be right back.” I toss my napkin onto my chair and follow Violet, thankful that I wore dress slacks tonight that give my cock a little expansion room. Her swaying hips and the way her dress comes millimeters from exposing her backside with every step mesmerize me. She isn’t heading toward the restrooms. She’s walking toward the elevator. She was counting on my following her. She stops and presses the up button. I approach her from behind and slink my arm around her waist, pulling her against my length. “Where do you think you’re going, Ms. Washington?” I say, propping my chin on her shoulder. She doesn’t answer me. Instead, she presses her

ass against my cock and the doors open. We step inside, and she laces her fingers with mine as we ride up to our floor without so much as a kiss. She leads me down the hall, unlocks the door to our suite, and holds it open for me. I raise my eyebrows and look at her out of the corner of my eye. “We have dinner coming soon, you know,” I say, as if I give a shit about food right now. She motions to me with her finger, silently calling me inside. I pass the threshold and close the door. She takes ahold of my tie and walks backward, pulling me along with it until she reaches the bed. I’m not one to give up control—especially in the bedroom—but Violet is so seductive and subtle in her leadership that I do as she likes more than willingly. The suite is dark but for a lamp on the end table across the room by the couch. Her skin glows in the soft lighting. She releases my tie but holds me

at arm’s length with that hand and flicks the spaghetti strap of her dress off her shoulder with one finger, revealing one very plump breast with a very erect nipple. I lick my lips and look into her eyes. I want to touch her. I need to put my mouth around that nipple and make her moan, but she continues to hold me away. Her lips part, and I can see her carotid artery pulsing in her neck. She wants this bad, bad enough to abandon our friends at dinner right before the food is to be served. She flicks the remaining strap off her shoulder and the dress slides into a pool at her feet. God, she’s gorgeous and bare but for those fucking stilettos. This is her game, but I really hope she decides to leave those on. She releases my tie and holds up a finger indicating that I need to wait. She turns around and crawls to the center of the California King canopy bed and drops down onto her forearms, ass up, legs spread, pussy glistening.

That’s an invitation if ever I’ve seen one. I drop my pants and crawl to her without even bothering to take off my shirt. I place my hands on her thick, fleshy ass cheeks and slide them up her back, pressing my cock against her wet crease. She moans, and I gather her hair in one hand and gently pull her head up to kiss her on the neck. “I appreciate you extending this invitation, but it’s time I took control now, Violet. I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast so we can get back downstairs to our friends, so hold on.” I rise up on my knees and slide my cock up and down through her folds until she’s writhing with want. I glide into her easily and pause before pulling back to slam into her over and over. I’m holding her hair in one hand and digging my fingers into the flesh of her hip with the other as our bodies slap together. Her moans and whimpers spur me on until I feel her clenching around me. I release her hair and grab her other hip and pound into her hard until I climax with her.

Violet is truly one in a million. She’s so fucking erotic, playful and intelligent, I keep wondering when the other shoe is going to drop. There’s no way I’m getting her with no strings attached, no secret bomb waiting to explode. We collapse on the bed together, panting. “We should go back. Our food’s going to be cold,” she says. “You should have thought of that before you led me up here for dessert first.” “You started it, trying to make me come at the table in front of our friends.” “True, I did, didn’t I?” “Yes, you did.” “I won’t apologize. This was worth the rude interruption to dinner.” I kiss her on the shoulder and slide out of her body, still semi-hard.

“I’ll get you a towel. hold on,” I say, heading for the bathroom walking backward because the sight of her naked on the bed is one I can’t tear my eyes from. She looks back at me. “You should take a picture. It lasts longer.” My God, she’s sassy. “Don’t mind if I do,” I say, bending to slide my phone from my pants on the floor. I snap off several pictures of her ass and then a few of her laughing while she scrambles to get under the covers. “Thanks, these will come in handy when you’re forty-five minutes away.” “You can always just facetime me, you know.” “What if you’re not available?” “I’m always available for you.”

“Good to know.” When I come back from the bathroom, she’s already got her dress back on, making her way across the room. She slides past me, brushing her breasts against my chest, and kisses me on the lips. “I’ll be right out.” “Are you sure you want to go back?” I look at the time on my phone. She cocks her head back, opening her eyes wide. “Yes, I’m starving, Major. You have to at least feed me.” “Better make it snappy then.” I kiss the tip of her nose and the door is swiftly closed in my face. Back at the table, two pairs of raised eyebrows greet us. “I take it she’s all right?” Kimber asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “She is now,” I say, pulling out her chair for her.

Violet rolls her eyes. “Sorry, we haven’t seen each other in a while,” she says with a shrug. “Guess the pre-dinner appetizer wasn’t enough? Had to have dessert too, huh, Major?” Garcia says, grinning and stuffing a big bite of steak into his mouth. “Shut up, Garcia,” Violet and Kimber say in unison. There is an awkward pause, and Garcia stops chewing, thinking maybe he took it too far with that jab. The three of us burst into laughter when we see his worried face, and he relaxes and begins to chew again with an even bigger grin on his lips. Kimber, soon to be Mrs. Garcia, is going to have her hands full with a new baby and this guy. I’ll have to send her a good wedding gift . . . like perhaps a muzzle.

CHAPTER 2 6

VIOLET

Plan B He’s so beautiful when he sleeps. Major is an active, fit man, but I think I may have actually worn him out. I’m lying on my side, curled up with my hands under my pillow, watching him sleep. Even in a California King bed, he looks too tall. Lying on his back with one hand on his chiseled abs and the other on my knee, he occupies most of the bed. He’s always touching me. No matter where we are,

no matter what we are doing, he has a hand on me somewhere. It’s like he wants to reassure me that he’s always there for me and he’s got my back, and God, I hope he does. The weight of having to tell him this news is heavy on my mind. I can’t sleep, so I watch Major sleep. An hour later, a streak of sunlight slices across the foot of our bed where the curtains are separated. Major is on his side now, facing me with his leg stretched across the space between us to touch me with his foot. It’s been fascinating to watch his eyes flutter under his lids while he dreams. And whenever he changes position, it’s like I’m a magnet drawing part of him toward me, a hand a foot, his arm constantly in contact with my body. He twitches, and I think he’s waking up, but it’s another dream. He seems tense this time though, his muscles are all bunched up, and he has a deep crease on his forehead between his eyes. His eyes begin to dart back and forth rapidly, and I don’t want to scare him but I think I should wake him from this dream that’s looking like a nightmare.

“Major.” I speak softly and nudge his shoulder. He starts to mumble, but I can’t understand a word of what he’s saying. I try again. “Major.” His hand snaps up, grabbing my wrist hard, hard enough to really hurt me. When his eyes open, I know he doesn’t recognize me, but I’m having trouble speaking because of the sharp pain shooting up my arm. It takes him several seconds that feel like hours to come around and loosen his grip on my wrist. When he does, I cry out and cradle it in my other arm. “Oh God, Violet, what the hell happened? Are you okay?” He sits up on his knees to reach for my arm. Instinctively, I pull away and protect my arm and try to get into a sitting position using just my elbow. “You were dreaming, and I thought I should wake you but you grabbed me.” Fuck, my wrist hurts. Could he have broken it with one bare hand? My guess is yes, it’s possible.

“Shit, I was having a bad dream. I’m so sorry, let me see it.” He moves closer, pulling my arm away from my body to assess it. “Ouch, stop, it’s probably just bruised. Why don’t you go get some ice and a towel?” He looks at me as if he were trying to read a foreign language that he doesn’t understand. He’s unsure—should he leave me for the ice or stand his ground examining my wrist? When he decides, he is off the bed in one smooth motion, pulling up his jeans to walk down the hall for ice. God help any woman passing him in the hall wearing only a pair of jeans and nothing else. He’s stunning and rugged with his facial hair and smooth muscles. Even in pain, I take a moment to admire his backside walking away. I hiss when he applies the ice. “That really stings.” “It’s not broken. The ice should help. Do me a favor, will you?” He’s asking me for a favor?

“After you almost broke my arm?” I say, moving my hand and the towel full of ice away from him. “It wasn’t intentional.” “I know. What’s the favor?” “Don’t try to wake me during a dream. I haven’t had one like that in a long time, but obviously, I’m not myself, and I don’t want to hurt you again.” He reaches out to stroke the side of my face with the back of his knuckles and I lean into his hand. “Believe me, I won’t. What do you dream about?” He lowers his eyes to the mattress and removes his hand from my face. Oh great, he probably dreams about his wife dying. Way to be sensitive, Violet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy. It’s none of my business.” I’d reach out and touch him, but my hands are busy holding ice.

“You’re not nosy, and it’s not what you think, actually. I don’t dream about Katie. I never went to watch them pull her car and her body from the lake. The last time I saw her was when I went flying out the door that morning to work. I gave her a peck on the cheek and waved at Malory in her swing. She didn’t look depressed, she seemed all right, and that’s the way I wanted to remember her. “So what then?” “Iraq. I still have some PTSD from that fucking hell hole.” I forgot all about him going overseas. He’s seen a lot of death and destruction in his life. It’s time he had peace and joy. I’m telling him. “I’m so sorry, that must have been horrible.” “It was, but it’s the past. Let’s focus on the present. It doesn’t look like you’re going to be in any shape to golf today. Do you want to ride along in the golf cart with us, or should we figure out new plans?”

“No, we can still go. I don’t mind riding in the cart, but I need to talk to you about something before we go, okay?” “Sure, baby, what’s on your mind?” I’m about to open my mouth and say the two scariest words ever, I’m pregnant, when his phone rings on the table across the room. He doesn’t move, though. He keeps his eyes trained on me. “Shouldn’t you answer that?” “It can wait. You wanted to talk about something. Let’s talk.” The phone quiets, and no more than a second passes before it starts up again. “Maybe it’s important?” He looks at the phone and back at me. “If they call one more time, I’ll answer.” A third time the phone begins to ring, and he stands from the bed and pads across the room in his bare

feet to answer it. When he looks at the screen, he immediately presses the answer button. “What’s wrong, Sam? Calm down, I can’t understand you. You need to stop crying for a second.” His sister’s name is Samantha, and from the way he’s acting, I’m sure that’s who is on the other end of that call. I stand up, keeping the sheet wrapped around my torso and the ice on my wrist. I move to stand beside him and watch his face morph from confusion into unbridled fury. “He fucking did what? Did you call the police, Sam?” He covers the phone with one hand and turns toward me. “Get your phone and call the police in Oceanside. Tell them to go to 642 Honey Creek Lane, tell them a woman has been assaulted. Hurry.” “Sam? Sam, help is coming. Are the kids okay? Where is he right now?”

He pauses to listen to her as I make the call to 911. “Fuck! All right, listen, stay in there, don’t—no matter what he says—do not open the door. I’m on my way, Sam. I’m in San Diego for the weekend, but I’m leaving right now.” He’s packing while he’s talking, and when I hang up with 911, I dress and start to do the same. He continues to talk and reassure her that everything’s going to be all right, but clearly it’s not. My phone rings, and it’s Kimber asking when we want to go for breakfast, and I tell her Major has a family emergency he has to go home for. She says she will relay the information to Garcia and wishes me luck before hanging up. While he cradles the phone between his shoulder and the side of his head, I call the front desk and tell them we will be checking out right away for a family emergency. They say not to worry about the bill. It’s already been taken care of. Thank God. I think he might scare the front desk person to death right now if he had to wait for them to process our

bill. I’ve haphazardly thrown everything I brought into my duffle. I try to help Major with his things, but he moves me away and touches my cheek briefly as if to say thanks, but no thanks. Even in the middle of a crisis, he’s placing things into his bag in perfect order. In fact, I think the stress is making him even more OCD. He’s folding his socks, for heaven’s sake. “Sam, put Mal on the phone. I don’t care if she’s crying, put her on.” We’re out the door making our way to the elevator when Malory takes the phone from Sam. Like a professional actor, Major’s demeanor changes and the I’m gonna strangle someone rage leaves his voice. “Hey, Boo, I hear Uncle Craig got angry. Are you okay, honey?” As we step into the elevator, he holds the phone down by his waist and squeezes his eyes shut tight

before returning it to his ear. “I’m coming, just hang on and don’t open the door for Uncle Craig. Just stay in there with Sam, okay?” They must be barricaded in the bathroom. Shit, what has this man done to Major’s sister? “Give Aunt Sam the phone back, honey. Sam? Can you tell me what happened? What did he do?” “Open your recording app on your phone,” he says to me. When it’s ready, he takes it from me, and as we walk through the lobby, he holds it up to his phone to record whatever she’s saying. “Just start at the beginning. Tell me what started it.” Halfway across the lobby, he stops abruptly, and I’m afraid he might crush both of our phones in his bare hands. He continues to stay quiet, listening to his sister’s account of the attack.

Kimber and Garcia rush to meet us, and I hold up my hand so they won’t speak. I mouth to them just a minute and Kimber clings to Garcia’s arm with a look of terror in her eyes. Major begins to speak soothingly to Sam when she’s finished talking. I take a step away with Garcia and Kimber. “Something’s really wrong, isn’t it?” Kimber says. “Yeah, it’s his sister, and I think she and his daughter are hiding in the bathroom from his brother-in-law. I have no idea what’s going on, but he’s furious and we’re leaving.” “His sister? Sam? Why the hell would they be hiding from Craig? I thought he was a good guy,” Garcia says. “I don’t know what all’s going on. That’s what I can tell from his end of the conversation.” “Okay, well you two get going and let me know if he needs any help kicking some ass when you get

there,” Garcia says. “Yeah, text me when you get there,” Kimber says. “I will.” I hug them both and run to catch up with Major, who just started toward the doors again.” “Have a great day, thank you for staying at the Fairmont Grand Del—” Major all but pushes the concierge out of the way when he storms through the doors. He’s in no condition to drive, and I’m worried his sister isn’t going to get help in time. When Major snaps at a limo driver in the circle drive outside, he hurries over and Major says something to him quietly, and the driver begins to load our bags into the back of his limo. “Call the airport and book us a flight to Oceanside,” he says when he opens the door for me. “Won’t it take just as long to fly?” I ask because the flight is about thirty minutes and in a car, it’s

only forty-five. “I can’t drive like this. We need to fly.” He’s not thinking straight. I motion to the driver and tell him there’s been a change in plans. Major doesn’t argue because he’s talking to Sam again. He’s categorizing her injuries. It sounds really serious. We have to get there fast. I wave at the valet and fish in Major’s pocket for the keys. I hand them over, and within five minutes, the Lexus is pulling up in front of us. I tip the valet and give him something for the concierge that Major trampled and ask him to please give it to him. The kid is more than happy to get away from Major. The fury rolling off his body is palpable. The bags are transferred from the limo to the Lexus, and I open the door for Major. “Get in, I’m driving.” Surprisingly, he doesn’t argue. He just slides into

my seat and I go around to the driver’s seat. When we’re on the road, I concentrate on what he’s saying to Sam and try to sort out what’s happened. “The police are there? Wait until they tell you it’s safe to open the door. Are you sure it’s the police and not Craig trying to get you to come out? Okay, good. Do they have Craig? Yes, go ahead and open the door now. Sam, I’m on the way. I’ll come straight to the hospital. Is there anyone who can get the other kids from school?” Straight to the hospital? God, she must be in bad shape. I can hear my pulse whooshing in my ears as I grip the steering wheel. What the hell happened? “All right, that’s good. Put the paramedic on the phone. I don’t care, shove the phone in his face. I want to talk to him. Who am I talking to? Ok, Dan, I’m that woman’s brother and the little girl’s father, and I need to know what the hell is going on there. But first, you need to know that Samantha has early stage MS and Malory has trouble communicating

when she’s stressed. Did they arrest her husband?” He is quiet for a long time while the paramedic fills him in. He never told me his sister had MS. Her poor kids, that poor family. I feel bad that he’s so far away from them when they need him. If he weren’t in San Diego messing around with me, he would be there for them. “Take them to Crossroads. I’ll be there soon.” He disconnects the call and hands me the phone. “Take this before I smash it against the fucking dash.” I take the phone from him and plug it into the charger between the seats. We drive in silence for about twenty minutes before he speaks. “He was drunk, stayed out all night with his whore, and when he came home, they got into it. She didn’t know he was as drunk as he was. He’s never been a big drinker, so she wasn’t prepared for him to be violent.”

He pauses, and I don’t interrupt. He has more, I can tell, but it’s hard for him to say it out loud. “She was diagnosed with MS a year ago. It’s mild and slow progressing, but they know what’s in store down the line. Maybe that’s why he went out and found somebody else. This is all so out of character for him. I never would have imagined him having an affair and beating my sister. Fuck, I’m gonna kill that motherfucking bastard if they let him out of jail.” I reach out and take his hand with my sore hand. He remembers my injury and holds it gently, kissing my wrist. “I’m so sorry, Violet. I never want to hurt you again.” “It wasn’t intentional. Don’t compare yourself to him. It’s not the same, not at all.” “He broke her ribs and her arm. He pushed her down and punched her and kicked her until she blacked out. She was protecting Malory with her

body. She probably has a concussion. Her speech was slurred and Malory was crying hysterically. She can’t talk when she’s stressed. It’s part of the brain damage from the drowning.” I gasp and tear up. I don’t even know what to say to him. How do you comfort a man whose sister just nearly died protecting his daughter? Craig is an animal. How did he do that to his wife? His best friend, his partner, the person he promised to love in sickness and in health? “So Craig went to jail?” “Yes, they found him pounding on the bathroom door with a meat clever from the butcher block in the kitchen. That fucker would have killed them if she hadn’t woken up and pulled Malory into the bathroom.” “A meat clever? Holy shit, does that count as attempted homicide?” “He beat her until she was unconscious. If that’s not attempted murder, I don’t know what is. I’ll get

her the best lawyer. He’s going away for a long fucking time.” “We can take the kids. They’re going to need a lot of support with their dad in jail and their mom in the hospital.”

HE’S quiet while he absorbs that idea. He doesn’t have a choice anymore. He’s going to struggle with his OCD when he steps up to take care of his daughter and his niece and nephew, but I’m going to be there to help him. “I can’t do it,” he says, looking out the window at the world whizzing by. “Yes, you can.” He turns toward me. “No I can’t, not unless I quit my job, and if I quit my job, I won’t be able to support them. This is why Sam has Malory.” “You knew Sam wouldn’t be able to take care of

her forever when she was diagnosed with MS though, right?” “Yes, but its progression has been so slow I was hoping and praying it wouldn’t get any worse.” “What was your plan if she took a turn for the worse? You don’t seem like the type to no not have a plan B and a plan C and D, for that matter.” I smile and rub his shoulder. “I don’t have a plan B, C or D. I have no family other than Sam. If she’s not able to take care of Malory, I’ll have to get a hardship discharge and find a job doing something else.” “I’ll be your plan B.” “How so?” “I can do a lot of my work from home. I choose to go to the office most of the time so I can interact with people. I’ll come down to Oceanside and help you with the kids until Sam’s better.” “What if she’s never better? Will you stay

forever?” I’m not exactly sure how to take that question. Is he seriously asking me to live with him, or is he shooting down my offer with what-ifs? “If that’s what you want, yes, I’ll stay forever.” He’s staring at me. I can feel his eyes on me, trying to read me the way I was just trying to read him. Ball’s back in your court, Major. You can go for it or be afraid to take a leap of faith. Please take the leap. I need you to want me that badly—we need you to want me that badly. “You don’t know what you’re offering. You would be strapped down with the responsibility of having three young children. If I get called away for work, you would have to do it alone. I can’t ask you to do that, Violet, but I love you for offering.” “Do you? Do you really love me, Major?” “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?” “It’s the honest kind. I love you, too, and love isn’t

always easy. It’s not always going to be hot sex and weekends spent lounging in hotels. I may not have any children,” Yet . . . “But I know how to love unconditionally, and I think that’s the foundation of parenting, don’t you? I’m not going to walk away just because things are a little sticky. I’m not afraid of a challenge. Actually, I’m sort of pissed that you thought I would.” “You’re feisty.” I roll my eyes. “Shut up, Major. Do you want me to help you or not?” “Yes, I want your help. I want you.” He places his hand over my thigh and kisses my temple. “Okay then, no matter what happens, I’ve got your back.”

I half expect him to shoot back some crude comment about preferring that I have his front, but he’s not in a playful mood today. He’s serious and determined. I knew he would rise to the occasion. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER 27

MAJOR

Kiddie Boot Camp I’ve seen my share of wounded men and women overseas, but none of them meant as much to me as my sister. When we walked into her hospital room in the ICU, the foundation of my world was shaken. This place smells like Lysol and death with a hint of hand sanitizer. I hate hospitals. The only good thing about hospitals is seeing the doors close behind you when you leave.

I have to make a conscious effort not to crush Violet’s hand when we enter Sam’s room. I know what her injuries are, but it’s harder to see them with my own eyes. She’s one big bruise, purple from head to toe. Her leg is in traction, her arm casted, her ribs splinted and her head bandaged. Her beautiful blonde hair hangs in bloody clumps on her shoulders and machines hum and beep around her, keeping track of her vital signs and sedating her. “Can she hear us?” Violet asks the nurse at her bedside. “She’s sedated, but there’s always a chance she can hear you.” The nurse smiles sympathetically and presses a button that inflates a blood pressure cuff on Sam’s arm. “Can she feel pain?” “She shouldn’t feel anything, no. The sedation helps with the pain and keeps her calm while the swelling goes down in her brain.”

“Can I hold her hand?” Violet asks. “Yes, just be careful of the IV and you’ll be fine.” Violet drops her purse and picks up Sam’s hand the second she has the green light. She’s never even met her, but she loves her because I love her. “Hey, Sammy, we’re here now, and the kids are safe. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ve got it all handled.” “Maybe you should introduce me?” Violet says. “Oh yes, of course. How rude of me. Samantha, this is my girlfriend, Violet. Violet, this is my sister, Samantha.” “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha,” Violet says, still holding Sam’s hand. “She’s going to love you when she wakes up.” If she wakes up. The doctor said it’s touch and go for now. The repeated blows to her head caused a lot of swelling. He said it was a miracle she was

able to call and speak to me on the phone. That’s why her speech was so slurred. I’m so fucking glad I had the sense to record her telling me what happened. If that fucker has caused her permanent damage or if, God forbid, she dies, I’ve got the victim’s firsthand version of what went down. Malory would never be able to stand up in front of a jury and tell what happened. She’s so traumatized right now, I don’t know if she’ll ever speak again period. Malory’s limp body full of sedation triggered something inside of me that I haven’t felt since being in Iraq. After sitting with her for an hour on the pediatric floor, I wanted to go to the jail and shoot a hole the size of Texas in Craig’s head. I may have tried it too, if it weren’t for Violet. She’s my lifejacket in this horrible storm. She’s keeping my head just above water enough to stay alive. Without her, I would have sunk hours ago. “Do you want me to go and sit with Malory so

she’s not alone? You can stay here with Samantha and we can meet up for dinner. Wait, where are the other kids? Do they need to be picked up from someone’s house? They need to know what happened, and they should hear it from family.” She’s right, they do, and I should, but I feel like my loyalties are being pulled in three different directions. I don’t know who needs me the most. Davy and Summer aren’t under sedation, although they may want to be after I tell them what happened with their parents. They are my priority. I have to go talk to them. “You’re right, I have to go talk to them. They’re staying with a neighbor, but they don’t know what’s happening. I’d feel better if you stayed with Malory. She’s more apt to wake up and be scared. They will have Sam asleep for a while.” “Of course. Are they staying the night with the neighbor? What about school tomorrow? Someone needs to call them in absent. They’re going to need a while to process all of this.”

She’s amazing, thinking of all the things I’m blind to right now. My mind is on one thing, and one thing only—the wrong thing. Craig. I want to kill him. I’m usually the organized one, planning every part of my day right down to the minute, but emotions are mucking up the planner I keep in my head. I can’t see past the moment I’m in. “Yes, good idea. I’ll get the school’s number from the neighbor and call them in for the week and see if they can spend the night tonight. What about the rest of the time? How am I going to be here for Mal and Sam and take care of Davy and Summer?” “What about Sabrina? Do you think she can help?” Why the hell didn’t I think of that? Sabrina would go to the ends of the earth to help Malory and me. “What would I do without you?” I say and kiss her on the mouth. Just the brief contact with her lips wakes the insatiable beast in my brain that wants to

take her to bed and never let her leave. “You’ll never have to find out.” I wrap her in my arms and hold her. She feels so right, the way her body molds to mine. Every curve of hers matches my muscles like two long-lost puzzle pieces. “I hope not,” I say, propping my chin on the top of her head. “I know not.” I hold her longer than I should. I’m procrastinating having to break this horrible news to two innocent children. “You should go.” “I know.” “You have to let me go to go.” “I know.” “If you can’t do it, just say so and I’ll go first.”

Handling a Man 101—challenge him, and he’ll do what you want him to. Well-played, Violet Washington. “I’m going,” I say and hold her at arm’s length. “I love you.” “I know.” I kiss her again and leave to do one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. In the SUV, I dial Sabrina. “Hey, I need some help.” “You okay, Sawyer?” “No, Malory’s in the hospital. Can you go sit with her?” “Whoa, there. Back up a minute, what’s wrong with Malory?” “Her scum of the earth Uncle nearly beat my sister to death, and she witnessed it.”

“No . . .” “Yes, he’s in jail, and Sam and Malory are at Crossroads Hospital. I have to go tell their kids what happened and make arrangements.” “Bollocks, Sawyer, what happened? They were a good fit, I thought.” “Guess he shrunk.” “I’ll go straight away, what’s her room number?” “734, the pediatric floor.” “And Sammy?” “Room 5 in ICU.” “Ring me when you finish.” “I will. Thank you, Sabrina.” “No need for thanks, do what needs to be done and ring me.” That’s Sabrina, no nonsense and understanding.

When I get to Sam’s house, I go inside before heading across the street to talk to the kids. I take down the ugly caution tape from the front door and wonder if Davy and Summer saw it when the neighbor brought them home from school. God, I hope not. Everything looks normal in the house, like every other night when I show up for dinner, except now it’s stone silent. I step carefully down the hall to the kitchen. This is where it must have all happened. There are small appliances on the floor and a hole in the wall by the door leading down the hall to the bathroom. On the wall, down low against the baseboard, there is a bloody dent the size of a human head. Samantha’s head. This is where he had her pinned against the wall, kicking her. Malory must have been curled up in a ball underneath her. I bend down to look closer. I don’t know why. It’s morbid to want to look closer, but I do. There is hair embedded in the cracks of the plaster, long blonde hair. I stand up and follow the trail of blood down the hall to the bathroom, where I know they

must have hidden. The door is chopped to hell; there are deep cuts where the meat clever sunk into the wood, and even a few places where it went all the way through. The police got here just in time. A few minutes more, and he would have been through the door. It’s hard to believe he was just drunk. This mess looks like a demented monster created it, not a sloppy drunk, cheating husband. I push open the door. It creaks until it’s opened a foot or so. I turn on the light and peer around the corner. The smell of urine hits me first, and then blood. Sam’s leg must have been bleeding badly, and Malory most likely wet her pants in fear. I snap off the light and lean my back against the wall in the hall and close my eyes. I can’t let the kids see their house like this. I’ll have to pack up their things and they are going to have to stay at my house. The mere thought of three children living in my house triggers a panic attack. I can’t breathe, my head is pounding, my heart

races, and I just want to run, run as fast and as far as I can. Running isn’t an option, though, and as bad as this panic attack is, I’m going to have to power through it and keep moving. I take the stairs two at a time and rummage around to find three bags and stuff that I think the kids will need for a week at my house. It may be longer, but I can only deal with the thought of one week for now. When I’ve finished gathering things from the bathroom, I decide Sam might want a few things when she wakes up too. In her closet, there is a medium-sized carry-on bag that is part of a set of luggage I bought her for Christmas one year. I pick it up, thinking it’s going to be empty, but it’s quite heavy. Leaving it on the hook, I unzip the bag and toss the flap back. There’s a good reason that bag is heavy. It’s full of money—thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of dollars. What the hell are they doing with this kind of cash sitting around in their house? This has to be

everything they have in the world and then some. Why would they have it out in the open in their closet? And why, if the house has been searched, didn’t the cops find it? I shouldn’t, but I zip the duffle and toss it over my shoulder with the other smaller bags and leave the house. I drive across the street and decide not to tell them what’s going on until we are alone in the car together. “What’s happening, Uncle Sawyer? Where are Mom and Dad? Where’s Malory? Why did we have to go to Brian’s house after school? And why is there ugly tape on our door?” Their questions come like a firing squad, one after another, never leaving me time to answer one before being asked another. I rein in the urge to snap the steering wheel in half and deep breathe until the questions dwindle to are you okay, Uncle Sawyer? “Yes, Davy—well no, not exactly. I have some

things to tell you that are very hard to say, and I’m not sure you will understand, but it’s important that you know. First of all, you should know that you are both coming to stay with me for a while.” They are silent, and I look over to see them looking at each other in shock. “Where are Mom and Dad?” Davy asks. “Your mom is at the hospital with Malory.” “The hospital? Why? What happened to her?” Summer says with tears pooling in her big crystal blue eyes. God, this breaks my heart to tell them the truth, but there is no lie that will cover this up. “Mommy and Daddy got into a fight, and Mommy got hurt.” “Another fight?” Davy says. “Another fight? Do they fight a lot?” I ask. “They didn’t used to, but lately, they always yell. It scares me,” Summer says, sobbing from the back

seat. “What do they fight about?” I ask. “Money. Mommy says Daddy keeps throwing it away.” Seems like they have plenty of money to me. A whole carry on bag full, to be exact. “Anything else, or just money?” “Mommy yells at daddy for having a THOT,” Summer says, spitting a little when she says THOT. “He has a girlfriend,” Davy corrects her. “Mom calls her a THOT ‘cuz—” “Yes, she told me. It’s slang. So do you know who the woman is?” I can’t believe these poor kids were suffering, knowing their parents’ marriage was falling apart, and never said a word to me about it. “No, I’ve never seen her, but I think she called the

house before because Mom got really mad and we had to buy a new phone.” That doesn’t sound like my sister. She’s never been one for outbursts or violence. “How are we gonna stay with you, Uncle Sawyer? Momma says you’re a germophobe and that’s why we never go to your house,” Summer asks, still crying. “Shut up, Summer. Why can’t we just go home and be with Dad until Mom gets better?” Davy asks. His patience is wearing thin, and the panic of being uprooted from his home is starting to settle in. “Don’t yell at me, Davy. I just had a question is all,” Summer says. “It’s a good question, Summer. Both of your questions are. So Summer, your mommy is right. I am a germophobe, but I’m willing to work on that to have you come stay with me. And Davy, you can’t go home to your dad because he . . . he’s in jail because he hurt your mom.”

Fuck, there, I did it. I almost choked on the words, but I got them out, and now they know. “Daddy hurt Mommy that bad?” Summer says so softly from the backseat I almost didn’t hear her. She starts to sob into her hands, and Davy unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs over the seat to hold her. “Where’s Dad?” Davy asks in a hard voice while he strokes Summer’s long blond hair and she cries on his shoulder. Big brother is stepping up to take his place as the man of the family at the tender age of eight. I can’t let him do that. He’s just a kid. He has ten years to have fun and be carefree. “He’s in the city jail.” “No!” Summer wails, and Davy hugs her harder. “I want Daddy back. I want Mommy to come home.” Summer is beside herself with grief. In a way, she’s lost both of her parents without actually

losing them. “Summer, listen to me, we can go see Mommy tomorrow, but it might be a little while before you see your daddy.” Like forever, if that fucker gets what he deserves. I don’t care how wonderful he’s been in the past. What he did to my sister and daughter today makes him a monster forever in my book. “We can see Mommy?” Summer squeaks with hope rising in her voice. I shouldn’t sugar coat it, but damn if these kids haven’t been through enough already. “Yes, tomorrow. Tonight, we’re going to my house, and my girlfriend, Violet, is going to come and help me take care of you until this is all sorted out.” “I’m scared,” Summer says, burying her face back into her brother’s shirt. “I know you are, honey. I am too, but we have to be

strong for your mom, okay?” Nobody says another word as we drive to my house. When we pull into the garage, I cut the engine and close the door. “Okay, guys, now I know things are rough right now, but I have a couple of rules at my house.” “Don’t touch anything, don’t eat anything, don’t use the bathroom,” Davy drones like he’s heard it a thousand times before. I twist in my seat to face them huddling in the back like two disaster survivors, and they sort of are in a way. They’re survivors of a fucked up father who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or his ass out of trouble. “Where did you hear that?” I ask Davy. “Mom always cleans before you come for dinner, and that’s what she says for like the whole afternoon before you get there.” Great, time to go on a guilt trip. My sister didn’t let

her kids pee because I was coming over. That’s fucked up. Am I really that bad? I just always thought she was an impeccable housekeeper. “No, actually, I never knew your mother told you those things. My rules are that you always take your shoes off at the door before you go inside, if you get something out, you put it away when you’re finished using it, and clean up a mess if you make one.” “That’s just like Mrs. Conway’s rules at school, ‘cept for the shoes. We gotta keep our shoes on all the time,” Summer says. Davy looks relieved, and I’m having serious anxiety. Davy was right. I’d rather have them not touch anything, don’t eat, and don’t use the bathroom, but that’s unrealistic when they’re going to be living here. God, I need Violet right now. I should have gone to get her before I brought them home. Now I’m going to have to leave the little wild ones alone to go and get her.

“I wanna go see Mommy. I don’t wanna go inside and take my shoes off,” Summer whines. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Davy, you want to go see your mom instead of waiting until tomorrow?” “Yes, please.” “All right, put your seatbelt on back there and let’s go.” I open the door and back out of the driveway, and my anxiety evaporates the further away from the house we get. Yep, definitely need Violet for this one. I text her and tell her I’m on my way with the kids, and she shoots me a message right back. Violet - You sure that’s a good idea? She’s in pretty bad shape. Did you tell them what happened? I love Sabrina, btw. She’s an awesome person. You’re lucky to have her in your life. Me - I told them, they’re pretty shaken up, but we

tried to go home and I can’t go in without you. They also really need to see one of their parents right now, so yeah, good idea or not, we’re coming. I’m glad you like Rina. Don’t get too attached, though. You’re mine. Violet - ? Me - Sabrina might fall for you. She’s a sucker for a beautiful woman. Violet - Oh, wait, I thought you said she was married to a Marine when she saved Malory. Me - She was. Violet - A female Marine? Me - No. Violet - Uh, okay, confused, but we will discuss later. I love you and only you. Don’t worry about me switching sides or whatever it is you’re worried about. I shouldn’t mess with her, but it’s hard to resist,

and really, Sabrina is one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever set eyes on. She’s tall and lean, with waist-length, jet black, silky hair and almondshaped grey eyes. She’s mesmerizing. I’m willing to bet she’s made a woman or two rethink their gender preference. Sabrina was married to Nick. He was a Marine and he was KIA in Iraq. Sabrina and Nick were swingers, and now it’s a toss up as to whom she brings to a function or a party. Me – 1. Good to know. 2. I’m on my way. 3. Stay three steps away from Rina. 4. This sucks. 5. Thank you for being here to help me. 6. I love you too. It feels so good to make a list, even if it’s for nothing but to say I love and appreciate Violet. Another message pings right away after my list. Violet - 7. You’re crazy. 8. Sabrina doesn’t hold a candle to you. 9.I don’t swing. 10. Agreed, this sucks. 11. I love you more. I smile down at my phone in my hand while we sit

at a stoplight. I should put the phone away and set a better example for the kids. Having kids around reminds me of boot camp. Someone’s critiquing your every word and action. That’s how I’m going to think of this from here on out. Kiddy boot camp. I can do this, with some help.

CHAPTER 2 8

VIOLET

Hope Malory is so still. Kids aren’t supposed to be this still unless they’re exhausted and sleeping in their bed after a long day of playing in the park, not sedated because their little brain can’t process watching an Uncle nearly beat an Aunt to death. Sabrina and I switched places for an hour so she could spend some time with Sam. Apparently, Sabrina and Sam became friends when Sabrina

moved to California after her husband died overseas. She had no family in the UK or America, and she and Major had never lost contact, so Oceanside was the logical place for her to build a life. When she walked into Malory’s hospital room, I choked on my own spit when I gasped. It was embarrassing, but she acted as if nothing had happened and hugged me like an old friend. I can’t imagine Major and Sabrina being only friends. There’s not a red-blooded man on the planet she couldn’t have with her exotic beauty. Throw in her British accent, and she’s killer. Dressed in Victoria’s Secret pink sweat pants, a tshirt and matching jacket with Nikes on her feet, she was hotter than any runway model. She kissed Malory and sat on the bed next to her. Malory slept like a blonde version of sleeping beauty while Sabrina spun stories about handsome princes and beautiful fairies. When I complemented her on her creative imagination, she told me she’s a romance writer. I can totally see Sabrina as a writer.

Something about her screams, creative good vibes right here, get your feels on with Sabrina! Major texted me that he was on his way with the kids and Sabrina thought it best to go and be there when they arrived. She is the same as family to them. The kids stair step in age, six, seven and eight, making her a constant presence throughout their lives. It will be good to have two adults there to comfort them when they see their mother. I’m proud of Major. He told them what happened, no beating around the bush or procrastinating, just straight up told them. I’m sure he’s done difficult things as a Marine, and I’m sure his military family stood by him, but it’s different when your biological family is hurting. Are Samantha and Major biological siblings? I never thought to ask, not that it makes much difference, but it would be good information in case of an emergency. I’ll have to ask him about that later.

I wish I didn’t have to meet every single person that Major loves on the worst day of their lives, or at least one in their top ten. I have a list of at least twenty of the worst days of my life somewhere. It helps me appreciate the good days and how truly blessed I am. It’s been an hour since he texted me he was on his way. I wonder how the kids are handling seeing their mother bandaged and bruised. I lean back in a chair next to Malory’s bed and rest my head back, looking at the ceiling tiles. I wonder how many children have had to lay here in pain, staring at the same tiles. A shiver runs up my spine at the thought. I hate hospitals. Kids should never have to visit one unless they’re being born. I hear a whimper and snap my head up to see Malory’s eyes fluttering open. She doesn’t know me, and this has been so traumatic, I’m afraid to say anything for fear of throwing her back into hysteria. I wait for her to see me. She doesn’t frighten. She has no reaction at all. She’s flat and emotionless, almost like she can see straight

through me. Maybe she’s not all the way awake yet. Do I approach her and risk a meltdown or hang back and let her come to me? The thought no more enters my head than she reaches out her hand for me. Slowly, I lean forward. She keeps reaching, and I keep inching toward her. When I’m on the edge of my chair and the tips of our fingers touch, she curls hers around mine, pulling me closer. I stand and move to sit on the bed with her, and she sits up and hugs me, clings to me, squeezes me so tight it almost hurts. “Malory, I’m your daddy’s friend, Violet. I wanted to be here when you woke up. How are you feeling?” Stupid question. Her world just fell apart and she’s sitting in a hospital room with some strange woman named after a flower without her mother and siblings. She doesn’t answer, she just grips the material of my shirt at my sides in tight little wads, holding on

for dear life. That’s okay, sometimes all you need is a hug. I wrap my arms around the beautiful little girl and breathe in the faint scent of strawberry shampoo in her hair. We stay like this, her silently holding on, me doing my best to comfort a stranger without words for a long time until a nurse enters the room. When she sees me, I try to convey that I am out of my element with a help me, I’m crashing sort of look. She understands and bends at the waist to speak to Malory. “Are you hungry, Malory? Or thirsty? I can bring you something if you want,” she offers. Malory shakes her head no. “All right, would you like to see your daddy?” She nods up and down vigorously and launches herself out of the bed into her arms. “Oh! My goodness, you really do want your daddy, don’t you?” she says with a chuckle.

Then she looks at me suspiciously, or at least I feel like its suspicion. “She’s never met me before. I’m her father’s friend,” I say as if that were a perfectly good reason for this child to be leaping out of my arms. She stands with Malory wrapped around her like a monkey. “I’ll just go call her father,” she says, walking away with my charge. I’m supposed to be making sure she’s all right, not letting some stranger walk off with her. I get up and follow them out the door to the nurse’s station, where nurse Jane fuzzy wuzzy is about to call Major. “I can text him if you like. He’s visiting his sister in ICU.” This news seems to set her at ease. “Yes, that would be fine.” Me – Malory’s awake. She’d like to see you. Major – Almost there.

“He’s already on his way.” “Thank you. We have to be really careful with our patients,” she says. “No problem, it’s reassuring to know she’s being looked after so well,” I say, and I mean it. This little girl’s been through enough. She deserves to feel safe. Major arrives, flanked by a shell-shocked Davy and a pale, frightened Summer. He’s shown me photographs of them several times so I know what they look like, although in the photo, they were laughing and rosy cheeked, playing in the water at a water park. Summer is a little clone of her mother, with blonde hair and coral blue eyes, but Davy actually resembles a young Major. They must be biological brother and sister. No way could he look that much like Major without some of the same chromosomes. Major walks behind the nurse’s station to get

Malory with no regard to the hospital’s policy on patient privacy. He loosens her fingers from the middle-aged nurse’s neck and pulls her into his arms and holds her against his chest so hard she whimpers. I reach out to touch her back with one hand and his arm with the other. “Hey . . . is everything all right?” I ask softly, looking into his bloodshot eyes. “No, we need to get back to Sam, all of us.” The way he says all of us causes my heart to drop into my stomach. Something’s happening with Sam, and he wants us all at her bedside. “I need discharge papers for her or an AMA form —whatever’s fastest—we need to leave.” I glance down at the kids. Summer is crying now, and Davy has moved to her side to hold her hand. God, please don’t let their mother die, especially at the hands of their father. They will have to live with that for the rest of their lives. Malory whines again and squirms in his arms.

“Major, I think you’re hurting her. Why don’t you let me take her while you get the papers signed?” I round the desk and walk behind Major so Malory can see me. I hold out my arms and raise my eyebrows, asking her if she wants to come to me, and she does more than willingly. “That’s a good girl, let’s let Daddy talk to the nurse, and we will go over here with Davy and Summer.” I take Malory to a nearby bench with the other kids in tow. When I sit down, Summer starts to talk to Malory and Davy takes her hand. These kids know how to bond together in a crisis, that’s for sure. The sound of call lights going off and the printer whirring as the nurse prints forms for Major to sign bounce around in my head as I wonder what’s happening in the ICU with Samantha. “Mommy’s so hurt, Mal. I’m scared,” Summer says to Malory.

“She’s going to be fine. It’s just her head, it will get better,” Davy says, trying to reassure himself just as much as the girls. “That’s not what the doctor said, Davy,” Summer says. “What did the doctor say, Summer?” I ask, not really wanting to know the answer to my question. “He said her brain is dead, you gotta have that to be alive, right, Violet?” she says with a quivering bottom lip. Three sets of eyes are on me, waiting, anticipating my answer. “Well yes, but sometimes a brain can get sick and then get better. It depends on how sick it is.” That’s all I’ve got. I can’t make it simpler than that. I need to talk to Major and find out what exactly the doctor said. “Come on, we’re going back to Sam’s room,” he says, whizzing by and grabbing Davy’s hand.

I stand and follow as fast as I can holding a sixyear-old, a small one, granted, but she’s got to weigh at least forty pounds. “Major, wait, what’s going on? Is she okay?” I ask, taking three steps for every one of his. “They’re talking about shutting off her ventilator. One says she’s brain dead. Another says she still has a chance. I’m not leaving her alone with those bozos so they can pull the plug while I’m gone.” “They can’t do that, can they?” I gasp, out of breath from walking so fast. “No, not legally, but I have a bad feeling about all this. I don’t trust them.” Oh my God, she can’t be brain dead, this isn’t happening. Should the kids be here during all of this? Is it too traumatic for them to witness doctors arguing about turning their mother’s life support off? Major is walking so fast I can hardly keep up, and

he’s dragging poor Davy. Summer is falling behind too. I slow to her pace and take Davy’s hand from Major. I’ll let him go ahead. I know where the ICU is if we get separated. “Why is Uncle Sawyer so mad?” Summer asks. “Honey, he loves your mommy very much and he’s trying to make sure the doctors take really good care of her. He’s worried, that’s all.” I pray that’s all. I could have just given a sevenyear-old little girl a big helping of false hope. “Mom’s gonna die, isn’t she?” Davy asks, and I stop in the middle of the hall and kneel down to eye level with him. I place my hands on his shoulders. “Davy, positive thinking is a very powerful thing, and so is negative thinking. Do you know what that means?” He nods yes. “We need to think positive thoughts to help your mommy get better. If you guys pray, now’s a good

time to say a few prayers. Your mommy loves you a lot. Don’t give up on her, okay?” Davy nods his head up and down, but I see tears forming in his eyes. I shift Malory to one hip and pull him close for a hug, and Summer wraps her arms around all of us for a group hug. “I’m holding the elevator. Come on,” Major barks from inside the elevator a few feet up the hall. We rush to get in before it starts to alarm. He can see I’m struggling, so he takes Malory from me. I’m afraid to put her down with the sedative still in her system. She rests her head on his shoulder. She looks scared. They all look scared. I don’t know how to console traumatized kids. Please, God, don’t let their mother die. They still need her so much. When we are close to her room, I can feel the tension vibrating through the air. Nurses who were smiling earlier have their mouths set in straight lines. Doctors are bustling around, consulting with one another on what to do next.

“How is she? Any change?” An old doctor with a hunch in his back and grey hair looks up from examining Samantha. “Still nothing, I’m sorry.” “I don’t want you on her case anymore. Find the other doctor who was in here earlier. I want to talk to him.” I’m standing behind Major with my jaw on the floor. I sympathize with new Marines in boot camp. If Major were my drill instructor, I’d be AWOL. He’s so intimidating. The doctor exits the room without an argument, and I hear him speak to the nurse, asking her to call Dr. Kumar. Oh my God, do I have to deal with this on top of everything else today? I haven’t returned his calls or texts for two weeks. They gradually stopped coming, and I felt bad for not telling him I wasn’t interested. I took the chicken’s way out, and now

I’m going to pay. He knows about my pregnancy, and I’m sure he’s going to be making some assumptions, seeing me here with Major and the kids during a very private family matter. Please, please, God, don’t let him mention that he took me out to lunch and sent me flowers, or worse yet, don’t let him congratulate us! If Major finds out like this, it’s going to be devastating. He might throw me out and think I’ve been trying to trap him. That’s what I would think if I were him. I should have told him right away. I should have told him in the hotel the other night when the moment was perfect. Now he might find out he’s going to be a father in the middle of a family crisis. No way, I’m going to be proactive about this. I still have his number. I’ll text him and tell him what’s happening and ask him not to mention the pregnancy in front of anyone. Can he even do that? Isn’t it patient confidentiality or something? Not if I’m not his patient anymore maybe. Shit, I need a second alone.

“Davy, Summer, why don’t we wait out here in the waiting area while Uncle Sawyer sorts some things out?” I place a hand on their backs and guide them into the waiting area, where there is a television and video games. I hardly think they will be interested in either, but there’s no room for them in Sam’s room right now. This is Violet Washington in case you’ve deleted me from your contact list. I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I’m in a difficult situation right now and I was hoping you would show me some mercy. I’m at the hospital with my boyfriend, the father of my baby, and they’ve just called you to come see his sister in the ICU. The thing is, he doesn’t know I’m pregnant yet. I’m going to tell him, I just wanted to wait for the right moment, and right now is the absolute worst time. Please, Sayeed, don’t mention I’m pregnant, I beg you. No more do I press send than Dr. Kumar rounds the corner with two residents flanking his sides. Dressed in long white jackets, they look like eager beavers dying to sink their teeth into a good case.

Please look at your texts before you reach me. I’m tapping my finger against the screen of my phone like he’s going to feel it and answer his own. He’s almost to her room when he spots me. Maybe he will come down here before he sees Sam. No, this is an emergency. He’s not going to come down here and chit chat when a patient is in critical condition. He says something to the residents and opens the sliding glass doors to Samantha’s fish bowl hospital room. The residents disappear, and Sayeed begins to walk my way, thank God. “I’ll be right back. I see a doctor I know and I’m going to say hello, okay?” I tell the kids. They nod numbly and stare at the television. “Violet, I’m so glad to see you, how have you been?” Dr. Kumar says, opening his arms for an embrace. Surprisingly, I walk straight into them. Sayeed exudes such a calm, caring vibe. It’s a little addictive, I’ll admit, and I could use some calm right now. I hug him tightly. “Whoa there, you and that baby are going to break my spine,” he says,

pulling away. “Shush, please, Sayeed. I just sent you a text explaining what’s going on, but since you probably haven’t read it, just please don’t mention to anyone that I’m pregnant, please,” I say pressing my palms together between us in prayer form. “All right, but . . . I assumed you had gone back to the baby’s father, since you didn’t return my calls or text. Is there a reason you haven’t told him yet?” His voice is laced with hope, and I feel so shitty. He thinks maybe I haven’t told Major because we aren’t together. “No, yes, I mean crap. This is all such a mess.” “Calm down, it’s fine, just start at the beginning. That’s always a good place to start,” he says, smiling at me with the most compassionate, warm smile I’ve ever seen. “You’re such a good man, Sayeed. Thank you for being a good friend to me.”

His face falls ever so slightly. “But . . .” “I knew there was a but coming.” His black eyes fill with understanding and disappointment. “I’m trying to tell him, there have just been so many things happening and we didn’t talk for a long time, and now his sister is so sick.” I gesture toward Samantha’s room, and his eyes widen. “Samantha is the father’s sister?” “Yes, are you taking care of her?” “I was consulted earlier, but it seems your boyfriend just fired one of the oldest and most intelligent physicians in the hospital. So now, yes, I am taking care of her.” “Oh good, you have to help her, Sayeed. These kids need their mother. Their dad went to jail for doing this to her, and if she dies, they’ll be orphans.”

“I’ll be honest. It doesn’t look good, but I’ll do everything I can, I promise. And don’t worry, I won’t mention the pregnancy. But take my advice. Tell him, sooner than later. He deserves to know.” “I will. I’m going to, just not today.” “All right, let me go examine Samantha again and talk to Mr. Steele—or uh, your boyfriend, I guess, isn’t he?” “Yes, that’s him,” I say, grimacing. “Got your hands full with that one.” “Yeah, don’t I know it.” He hugs me again, and when I look up, Major is standing just outside Sam’s room, holding Malory and staring at me. I don’t know why, but I jump backward out of Sayeed’s arms. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I have every right to hug a friend if I want to, but the look in Major’s eyes when he saw me . . . it was so cold and angry. I’ve never seen him look that

way before, and I never want to again. Chills run up my spine, and I wrap my arms around myself and rub my palms up and down my biceps. Sayeed turns to see who I’m looking at and returns his attention to me. “I’ll tell him we’re old friends. Don’t worry, Violet.” “Okay,” I whisper, still locked in Major’s icy glare. Sayeed makes his way to Major and ushers him back into the room. Major doesn’t release my eyes until the door is closed, and I want to cry for so many reasons. But most of all, I want to cry because he’s hurting and he’s thinking I’ve done something wrong. And I haven’t. Once I decided to keep the baby, I stopped seeing Sayeed. He only kissed me once. It was nice, but it lacked the electricity and chemistry that is there

when Major and I kiss. Even when we don’t, a look from Major across a crowded room can make my heart race and my palms sweat. Dr. Kumar is nice, sweet, even, but Major is . . . well, Major is Major. I’m going to need a new shirt if they don’t come out of there soon. I’m sweating like I just ran a 10K. I have the overwhelming desire to explain myself to Major, but there isn’t anything to explain. “Violet? Can we get something out of the vending machine?” Summer asks, tugging on my pinky finger. I look down at her, and she’s pointing to another waiting area just outside the ICU with a row of vending machines. “Did you eat at your neighbor’s house?” I ask. “Yeah, but that was at six. It’s almost twelve and my tummy hurts.” “Okay, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the time. Of course you’re hungry. Let’s go get you both a snack.”

I start for the doors and remember my purse is still in Sam’s room and I don’t have any money on me. “Hey guys, hold on. I don’t have any change. Let me go and get my purse. I’ll be right back.” Davy slumps down into his chair and Summer sits next to him and takes his hand. My heart aches inside my rib cage, watching them lean on each other during the worst time of their lives. A nurse is sitting outside the room using a computer. Maybe I can get her to go in there and get my purse so I don’t interrupt? Why am I being such a damn chicken? I haven’t done anything wrong. There is no reason I can’t walk my ass in there and get my own purse. I slide the doors open just enough to squeeze through. Major is standing on one side of the bed with his arm wrapped around Sabrina, and she has her face pressed against him with her hand splayed on his abdomen. I bite my lip to keep the green goddess of jealousy at bay. It’s not the time or the

place. “I just need to grab my purse. The kids are hungry. Sorry to interrupt.” I lower my eyes, feeling very much like an intruder, and round the bed to where my purse is hanging on the back of a chair. It’s also directly behind where Major and Sabrina are standing. He reaches out and gently takes my arm. I glance at his hand on my arm and then into his endless green eyes. I’m forgiven. I didn’t do anything wrong, but I’m still forgiven. I can see it in his eyes. “Stay for a minute while Dr. Kumar explains what’s happening.” He pulls me under his arm on his other side and presses his big hand on the small of my back, securing me there as if I’d ever leave. Sabrina steps away and dabs at her eyes with a tissue. “Where’s Malory?” I ask when I realize she’s nowhere in sight. “Over there. The nurse pulled two chairs together and used some blankets to make her a bed. She’s

tired. I should have left her in her hospital room, but I was afraid she wouldn’t get to say goodbye. That’s not an issue now, so we should probably get her home—all of them.” He sounds so normal, so calm and full of hope. Not like a man with severe OCD about to take three young kids into his perfectly clean, germ-free, sterile home. And he definitely doesn’t seem like a man preparing to say goodbye to his sister forever. “Yeah, it’s late, but wait, what do you mean there isn’t an issue anymore? Has something changed?” “Oh no, I wouldn’t go so far as to say there are no issues, but there are options. Dr. Gram believes Samantha to be brain dead, which is absolutely no brain wave activity. But I think we should give her some time, let the swelling go down, allow her brain to heal. She’s not responsive, and that’s not good, but I think if we wait a few days, there’s a chance. I’m not giving up hope on her yet.” I love Dr. Kumar right now. Not the romantic kind,

of course, but he’s going the extra mile to save Major’s family, and I can never repay him for that. “Do you hear that, Sammie? Don’t give up. Keep fighting. Davy and Summer and Malory are waiting for you to wake up. They need their mommy, so you work hard to get better, okay?” Major speaks to Sam like she’s already awake and able to follow instructions, and Sabrina lays her hand on Sam’s leg. I always wondered why people ask comatose patients to fight hard and get better. What are they actually asking them to do? They’re stuck inside their own brain in the dark, frustrated by their lack of ability to communicate, and people are telling them to heal. How the hell do you heal yourself? He’s trying to help. I get it, but how is that helpful? “So you really think there is hope? How long do we wait? What should we expect?” I have a hundred more questions, but those are the first off my lips.

“Yes, I believe there is hope. Her MS is very mild, and she’s young and in good physical condition. I can’t tell you how long to wait or what to expect though. We could be looking at days, weeks, months—maybe even years for her to respond.” Years? I might be helping Major raise three, no, four kids for years. Wow, zero to four in one year’s time. It’s mind-boggling. I have no idea what the everyday schedule of a mother of four is like. “It won’t be that long, will it, Sammie? You’ll be back on your feet before you know it. I know you won’t ignore a Major’s—or more importantly, your brother’s—request.” He covers her purple hand with his and squeezes me tight. I told Davy he needed to have a positive attitude. Now that we have everybody on the same page, maybe we really can get her back. Now to go home and give this man another shock. The timing isn’t great, but I’m quickly learning that

even when I’m presented with the perfect time, I still hesitate. No more procrastinating. It’s got to be tonight. I know he’s had a long day of stress, but maybe, just maybe, this won’t be the horrible news I’m afraid it will be.

CHAPTER 2 9

MAJOR

Antidote I take the envelope with the room keys and turn to see three wilting children and one exhausted beautiful woman sprawling on three couches in the lobby. They drag themselves up and follow me to the elevator. This hotel doesn’t boast the luxury the Del Mar did, but the romantic weekend is a bust and this place had a room available. I’m not ready to take them home yet. I thought I

was, but driving away from the hospital with three whiny, tired, scared kids made me rethink kiddie boot camp. I need to do a few things at home before we all move in and get comfortable . . . yeah, that’s rich. I’ll never be comfortable again for as long as I live. It’s okay, though. They’re family. I’m going to keep telling myself that until it’s fucking true. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Samantha wouldn’t think twice about doing it for me. She didn’t think twice when she took Malory. She also adores children and doesn’t have a fucked up brain that can’t handle germs and disorder. So here we are at the Oceanside hotel, going up to our adjoining rooms with lamps that are cemented to bedside tables and bathrooms that are, God willing, cleaned every day. Sometimes, I just need the knowledge that something is supposed to happen on a daily basis to ease my anxiety. Other times, I have to see it with my own eyes. Hotel bathrooms and sheets are supposed to be cleaned and laundered every day, so therefore, the room is

essentially safe for a temporary amount of time. At home, I like to watch Edith put the sheets in the wash and hear the scrub brush against the tiles in the bathroom when she cleans because it’s my house where I reside permanently. It doesn’t seem to make sense to anyone but me, but I don’t give a flying fuck. Everything has a place and everything in its place. That’s what good old Mom used to say. Along with, If you’re always late, you’re always rude, and Your time isn’t more valuable than mine, so stop wasting it, Or the best of all, I discipline you so the prison guard won’t have to someday. All are perfectly fine little nuggets of knowledge if they aren’t accompanied by beatings and starvation. My stepmother was the queen of hypocrisy, always late, messy, rude and undisciplined. And Dad was no better, just watching it happen. Oh, he joined in occasionally, especially if the punishment had anything to do with Samantha, but for the most part, it was her ruining our lives. She turned me into a kid who

dreaded every second of the future, and Sammy into a compulsive liar. Thankfully, therapy cured her of that. It’ll never give her back the normal childhood she deserved, but Sam broke the chains that our adoptive parents shackled us with and made a good life for herself . . . until today. “Come on, guys, time for bed,” I say as Violet pulls the covers back on one bed and I do the same on the other. They slide in without a complaint. “Do we have to go to school tomorrow?” Davy asks. “No, we will go see Mommy again tomorrow.” “Is she all alone?” Summer asks. “No, she’s never alone. There are doctors and nurses, and Aunt Sabrina is spending the night tonight.” She looks relieved to know Sabrina is with her mother. So am I. I wanted to stay with her myself, but the kids don’t know Violet well enough to stay

alone with her yet. “Get some sleep now. Goodnight, I love you.” I kiss my fingers and press them against Davy’s forehead. He’s too old for cheek kisses. Summer sits up and presents me with her forehead, but I kiss her cheek instead. “You’re not too old for cheek kisses, now are you?” I ask. “No, I just wanted you to be comfortable.” My seven-year-old niece is enabling me. What the hell? “Where did you hear that?” “Mommy says not to touch you first and not to make messes so you will be comfortable.” She looks up at me with her big, round eyes, and I brush my thumb on her cheek where I just kissed her. “She’s the best Mommy, isn’t she?” I say, blinking back the tears that are pricking at the back of my

eyes. Summer nods and smiles. “Don’t cry, Uncle Sawyer. Mommy’s brain will get better. The angel told me so.” “Angel?” Violet asks from Davy’s bed. “Uh huh, when we got there, the pretty angel that was holding Mommy’s hand told me she will be just fine.” Violet and I look at each other, stunned. I don’t usually believe in spirits or angels, but tonight I really want to for Sam’s sake. Violet stands and rounds the bed to kiss the girls goodnight. “Next time the angel is there, will you tell me? I’ve never seen one before, and I’d love to meet her,” Violet says. “You believe her?” Malory mumbles against her pillow. I thought she was already asleep. “Of course, I believe in angels and fairies and leprechauns, all that stuff.”

“I love you, Violet,” Malory says, closing her eyes, losing the battle with sleep. “I love you too,” Summer chimes in, reaching around me to hug her. “Hey, what am I, chopped liver?” I ask. “Ew, what’s chopped liver? Sounds gross,” Summer says. “It is gross, dummy, that’s why he said that. Duh,” Davy says, seemingly fed up with our love fest. “I don’t get it, but I love you too, Uncle Sawyer.” Summer hugs me and I look at Davy in case he’s interested in exchanging proclamations of love too. He shakes his head and makes a disgusted sound. Fair enough. I shut off the light and leave the bathroom light on with the door open a crack so they won’t wake up scared. I was afraid of the dark when I was their age. I was afraid of a lot of things. “Should I close this or leave it open a little just in

case?” Violet asks with her hand on the doorknob of the adjoining door. “Probably better leave it open. Malory’s bound to wake up at some point and be confused.” “Okay.” She pushes the door open much more than a crack, knowing all to well about waking up confused. She hasn’t sleepwalked since that first night we spent together, but I guess we haven’t spent that many nights together since then. It feels like I’ve known her my whole life. I want to know her for the rest of my life. I sit on the bed and watch her strip off her jeans and pull her bra through the arm of her t-shirt and carelessly toss them both on a chair. I’ll have to fold those later. “What’s this? I don’t get to see you undress?” I say, infusing my voice with disappointment. “I’m not getting naked with three little kids sleeping in the same room as us. You do remember

I sleepwalk, don’t you?” “Of course I remember. Maybe you’ll sleepwalk out of the rest of your clothes later.” “Don’t count on it.” She pads across the room and stands between my legs with her hands on my shoulders. “We should talk.” Her hands begin to knead my tight shoulders, and I moan. It feels so much better than talking. “Later, we should get naked now,” I say, sliding my hands around to squeeze her round ass. “No, really, Major. There are some important things we need to work out.” “Tomorrow. I’ve had enough important things to work out today, now I’m going to work out with you.” I grab her around the waist and toss her on the mattress and straddle her, pinning her arms above her head in one smooth move. “Hey!” she laughs softly. It’s good to hear someone

laugh today, especially Violet. “You’re not seriously going to make love to me with the door open, are you?” “They’re already asleep—guarantee it—and I can be very quiet.” I kiss her lips and begin my trail down her neck pushing up her t-shirt as I go. “I need to use the bathroom,” she says. I look up at her between her perfect breasts mid-kiss. “Right now? Like this second?” “Yes, right now, this second. I haven’t gone since we left the hospital. I’m going to burst.” Her words are rushed, almost panicky. I chalk it up to weak bladder control and roll over on my back, freeing her. When she stands, I hook her with my foot and pull her so she’s standing between my legs again. I prop up on one elbow and take her hand, placing it on my raging hard on. “I’ve got a lot more stress to relieve when you come back. Don’t be long.”

I love the way her lips part when she gasps and her pupils dilate until there’s no brown left in her eyes, just black. Her tongue slides out, and she pulls her bottom lip back in with it before she takes her hand away. I drop back on the bed and watch the room go dark when she closes the bathroom door. I hear a buzzing noise, and sit up to look for my phone. The hospital has my number. They could be calling with news. It’s on the night table, and it’s quiet and dark. I left it there earlier. Must be Violet’s phone. The jeans that she tossed on the chair have a glowing pocket. I was going to fold those anyway. May as well grab her phone for her. I slide the phone from her pocket, fold the jeans neatly, and place them in a drawer with her bra. When I sit back down on the bed, I glance at the lit up screen before putting her phone next to mine on the table. It’s a text, several in fact, and they are from Dr. Sayeed Kumar. The Dr. Kumar who caused me to see red earlier today when I found him embracing

Violet outside Sam’s room in the ICU. The Dr. Kumar who took her to lunch and left her flowers on her door, and the one who gave me hope that my sister will wake up. I slide the message open and scroll up to where it began this afternoon. It’s wrong, it’s an invasion of privacy, and it insinuates I don’t trust her. I do trust Violet. It’s the good doctor I don’t trust. He’s a good catch, rich, handsome, charming, and he doesn’t have the fucked up head problems I have, but I’m not about to make it easy to steal her away. I start to read the first message that she sent to him and drop the phone on the mattress when I get halfway through the first paragraph. I’m here with my boyfriend, and he doesn’t know I’m pregnant. The door to the bathroom opens. I take one look at her, and she knows I know. She looks at her phone on the bed and rushes toward me, but I’m up on my feet pacing before she can reach me. “Oh my God, Major, this isn’t how I wanted you to

find out. Shit, I’m so sorry, I wanted to tell you tonight. I swear that’s what I wanted to talk about earlier.” She’s standing by the bed, clutching her phone to her chest. Every quick, shallow breath she takes causes her hands to rise and fall. She’s pregnant with my baby. God, this could be Katie all over again. I can’t breathe. I can’t do this. Why didn’t she fucking tell me? Wait, how pregnant is she? “How far?” I say, my voice cracking with the two simple words. “How far along?” She bites her lip hard enough to draw blood when she answers my question with a question. “Yes, damn it, how far along are you?” “Twelve weeks.” Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and I’m trying to process information that I should never have to process. Twelve weeks? That’s three months!

“Jesus, Violet, three months? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? How the fuck did this happen? I mean, I know how it happened, but you said you were on the pill. Were you lying?” Her shoulders start to shake, and a sliver of me wants to go and comfort her, but not until I’ve heard the details. Not until she convinces me she didn’t do this to trap me. “I . . . wasn’t lying.” She sobs between words, but I wait. “I got sick.” “And?” “And they did a test.” Her voice wavers and shutters. “I was eight weeks already.” And she’s bawling uncontrollably now. I have no choice but to comfort her. The kids are going to wake up next door and think something has happened to their mother.

I take her in my arms, and she grabs onto me like a lifeline, clutching my shirt and molding her warm body against mine. It’s pointless to try and resist her. No matter how angry or suspicious I am, I can’t deny that she is my calm, my gravity, my antidote. She holds the insane buzzing anxiety in my head at bay. She is my normal in a world filled with abnormalities. When I’m with her, I know things are going to be all right. Tonight is no exception. The second she’s in my arms, I have hope. I never wanted to have another baby. I never wanted to love anyone ever again. But sometimes, your heart speaks the words your mind won’t, and my heart is yelling, You love her. Don’t let her go! “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. I tried once, but—” “Shush, stop apologizing, it’s me who should be

saying I’m sorry. I just never expected . . . I mean I never planned on—” “I know, me neither.” I tip her face to mine and kiss her salty lips. She refuses to loosen her grip on me, so I lift her up and we fall to the bed locked in each other’s arms. It’s dark, but I can see the relief flooding her eyes. “Were you afraid to tell me?” “Yes, after you told me about Katie and Malory, I wasn’t sure I could.” “So you were going to have my baby. And not tell me. And support it alone.” “I didn’t really think it through very well, I guess. I would never have kept it from you. You deserve to know you have a child. Dr. Kumar reminded me of that today.” “I wanted to wring his neck a couple of times, you know.”

“I’m sorry. It was nothing really. He had a crush and I didn’t. End of story.” I sigh, and my breath blows a piece of her hair. It flutters off her cheek and against her neck. “It’s not just Katie that has kept me from having anymore kids. I never wanted to fall in love again, and I had a difficult childhood. I’m not sure I can be the right kind of father.” “You will be the exact kind of father our baby needs, because you’re his father. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Malory is a great kid, and she knows you love her to the moon and back. That’s all that counts, Major. She knows you’re there for her no matter what. That’s what kids need.” “You sound like the therapist I went to when I signed custody over to Sam. You don’t look like her though. She was old and wrinkled and she had spiky hair.” “You’d better love me when I’m old and wrinkled

with spiky hair.” “Old and wrinkled okay, but keep the hair. I love your hair.” I cover her mouth with mine and breathe in her scent, feel her lips sliding against mine, listen to the soft snore of a sleeping child in the adjoining room, and taste her tears, memorizing the moment that I learned I was going to be a father again. Just when I’m about to strip her bare and very slowly and very quietly make love to this new mother to be, I feel a light tap on my shoulder. “Daddy, I don’t like sleeping with Summer. She snores,” Malory says. Violet pulls down her t-shirt, and I moan. Kids, they have crummy timing. “Come on up here. You can sleep with us. It’s all right.” And it is, because Violet makes everything all right for me.

CHAPTER 3 0

VIOLET

Never Ending Story I can’t feel my right arm. Where the hell am I? When I open my eyes, I’m staring up at an unfamiliar textured ceiling that looks like a series of palm trees. I don’t have palm tree ceilings in my apartment. I blink and turn my stiff neck to see what’s cutting off the circulation to my arm and find a mess of soft blonde curls in my face. I blow the hair away from my mouth, and the past

three months come rushing back to me. Major, pregnant, Samantha, accident, kids, hotel . . . yep, that’s about it. Major is curled up, mirroring me, and Malory is in between us. Our bodies form a heart, and fittingly, she and my tiny baby bump are at the center of it. I wonder if it’s a girl or a boy. I wonder if Major will want to find out. I sort of don’t want to. There aren’t very many true surprises in life anymore. Having the gender be a surprise might be fun. Wait, what am I thinking? Major is a plan-a-holic, he will have to know the sex to prepare and categorize every detail of the pregnancy, the birth, the baby room, all of it. Oh well, maybe next time. Next time? Oh, Lord, I think Malory and this baby will have to be enough. I lift my head to assess the arm situation and find myself staring at my glorious man. A lifetime with Major Steele, or at least I hope so. I shouldn’t assume that just because we’re having a baby, he wants to shack up and get married. Do I want to be

married? Yes. If it’s to him, I think I do. I jump when he snaps his eyes open like he wasn’t sleeping at all. “What are you thinking? I feel you looking at me.” Mmm, Major’s gravelly morning voice is my favorite. “That you’re pretty.” He arches one brow and repeats my compliment. “Pretty? Girls are pretty. Women are pretty. I, my dear, am manly.” He holds up his right bicep and flexes it. Yes, I’d have to agree with that. He’s more than a little manly. “Okay, agreed. But you have such nice hair and long eyelashes. Parts of you are definitely pretty.” “Just don’t say that in front of the guys.” I pretend to turn a key between my lips and throw it over my shoulder.

“So can you help me? I have no feeling in my right arm and don’t want to disturb sleeping beauty here.” “What time is it?” “Uh, no idea. Only one arm here, remember?” “Sorry. Here, I’ll get her.” Major lifts Malory’s head up just far enough off the pillow that I can slide my arm out. I turn and sit on the edge of the bed and look at it hanging limply at my side. “Hurt yet?” “Nope. Oh wait, here it comes.” As the blood returns to my blue fingers, the pins and needles prick and stick my arm from the inside out. “Oh, this sucks so bad.” I wiggle my fingers, and Major leaves the bed and starts to undress. “Gonna shower?” We need to get back to the hospital, and the kids will be awake soon, no

doubt. Maybe I’ll get a few minutes to hop in and out after him. “We are going to shower. I never leave an important job incomplete.” “What about the kids? They’ll be up soon.” “Hotels have locks on the bathroom doors and the kids got to bed really late. Are you trying to make up excuses not to shower with me?” He cocks his head to the side and frowns the sexiest frown. “I like it when you frown.” He chuckles. “You do, do you?” Well, I’ll try to frown more often,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “I’m serious, that scowl you just did there. It’s commanding, domineering, very sexy. Love it. Keep it up, Major, good job.” “I’ll show you a good job.” he quickly closes the gap between us and pulls me to my feet. “I’d throw

you over my shoulder, but I don’t want to hurt my baby.” His baby. I haven’t allowed myself to think that Major could be happy about having another child, but he almost sounded pleased just now. He walks backward, leading me into the bathroom, and I glance back to make sure Malory is still sleeping—and thanks to a very late ending to her day yesterday, she is. Inside with the door locked, he is true to his promise when he quietly lifts my t-shirt over my head. His back is to the mirror, so I have a perfect view of not only the front side of my athletic man, but the backside as well. And what a backside it is. He has the kind of ass that makes women moan when he walks by. I know. I’ve heard it. Hell, I’ve done it, it’s that good. He steps back and rests his dreamy ass on the vanity with his hands palm down on either side of him like he’s holding himself back. His gaze

travels up my legs, pausing when he reaches my tummy, and for a split second, I think he is going to wrap it up and call it quits. He begins to peruse my scantily covered body again, pausing once more to focus on my mouth. When he reaches my eyes, he holds them for what should be an uncomfortable amount of time, but it isn’t for me. I could stand here until the end of time and let him ravish me with those eyes. When he’s had his fill of turning me inside out with his passionate stare, he pushes off the vanity. He steps to me so we are toe-to-toe, touching foreheads, and he places his hands on my baby bump and closes his eyes. I don’t touch him. I stand quietly and let him absorb what I’ve had weeks to soak in. There is a tiny human growing in there, half me, half him. It’s incredible. “Violet.” He exhales my name, and my blood races in my veins.

“You are my real never ending story. I didn’t know when I got the tattoo that its meaning would continue on forever. I thought it stopped with Katie’s death, but I was wrong. Oh, so wrong.” His eyes open slowly, and his hands glide up over my breasts. His callouses brushing over my sensitive nipples sends an electric jolt between my legs. I gasp as his hand slides up the back of my neck and his fingers tangle in my hair, holding me steady, commanding my attention. “Marry me, Violet, be my never ending story.” He makes me dizzy with his words. The way he breathes every one with such meaning makes me swoon. I want to say yes, I have to say yes, but I’m so hypnotized by his voice and his presence, I can’t. “I knew you’d say yes. I see it in your eyes, Mrs. Steele. Now let me thank you properly.” His hands meet at my middle again right before he slides his fingers under the lace on the sides of my panties and slowly, torturously drags them down my legs.

When I’m bare, he stands and I watch as he removes the rest of his clothes. Our eyes are locked, never drifting. He lifts me onto the vanity and places my hands exactly where he wants them, the way he does most things, just exactly so. He spreads my legs wide and kneels on the tile between my trembling thighs. I drop my head back and bite my sore lip to keep quiet when his tongue slides between my wet folds. His fingers are next, one and then two. His free hand is splayed on my belly as his fingers rhythmically slide in and out of my core. The tip of his tongue rotates between flicking and circling my clit, sending me into orbit. His hand leaves my belly and I look to see where it’s gone. He has it wrapped around his thick cock, stroking it to the same rhythm of his finger’s penetration. The sight of him pleasuring himself alone is enough to make me come, but combined with his talented

tongue and long fingers, I’m doomed. I grip the granite and clamp my legs around his head. If we were anywhere else, I would scream, and it’s almost impossible not to. Somehow, I rein it in and only a whimper escapes when I release weeks of pent-up worry and anxiety onto his lips. When the pulsing slows, he slides his fingers out of me and around my thighs, resting his cheek against the inside of one. He inhales deep, and blows out the breath as he stands up with a scowl on his face. A Sexy As Fuck Scowl. He couldn’t have timed it better. It couldn’t have turned me on more. We spend the next forty-five minutes in the shower together, washing and

exploring until a soft rap on the door pops our magical bubble. “Daddy, I’m hungry,” Malory says. Ahh, the joys of parenting. We may as well get used to interruptions and secret rendezvous because this is only the beginning. The beginning of our never ending story.

CHAPTER 3 1

MAJOR

Angels and Fairies and Leprechauns Samantha’s bruising looks better already. The nurse has allowed Davy and Summer to sit on the bed next to their mother and hold her hands. I’m not sure if they are doing it because they think it will help her come around or because they think it could be the last time they see their mother alive. Whatever the reason, it’s making them feel better and it isn’t hurting Sam.

The room is quiet but for the occasional word exchanged between Davy and Summer. Violet is in the waiting room with Malory. We all wanted to see Sam, but the hospital has a two person at a time visiting rule that is already being broken. We didn’t want to push our luck. “I’m going to check on Malory. You won’t touch anything, will you?” The nurse has given them instructions on how to hold Sam’s hands without disrupting her IV lines and the electrodes elsewhere on her body. “No, promise,” Summer says, and Davy nods. The waiting room is right across the hall from Sam’s room. I don’t really have to leave the room to check on them, but I thought the kids might want a little privacy. The halls are bustling with activity this morning, a stark contrast to the calm quiet before we left last night. The hospital seems to come alive during the day. I hope that rubs off on Sam.

Violet and Malory are cuddled up together on a couch watching the Disney channel. Malory is engrossed; Violet, not so much. They are so comfortable with each other after only meeting a day ago, but in times of crisis, bonding intensifies. I read that somewhere once, and it stuck with me. Turns out it’s true. I sit down on the other side of Malory and stretch my arm along the back of the couch behind Violet’s neck and squeeze some of her tension away. “Mm, that feels good.” “How are my girls?” Malory tilts her head up to see my face, “Okay, Daddy. Is it my turn yet?” I kiss her forehead and breathe in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Not just yet, but soon.” Her bottom lip slips out in a pout, “She’s my mommy too, not just theirs.”

I gather her in my lap and kiss her cheek. “Of course she is, but the rule is two people at a time. You and Violet can go in next.” “Is Violet going to be my mommy now?” Her big blue eyes are full of equal parts hope and confusion. My poor daughter doesn’t know where she belongs, and that is my fault. Violet and I lock eyes. “I think Violet might like to be your mommy sometimes, and when Sam wakes up, she can be your mommy too. How is that?” Malory nods vigorously with an ear-to-ear smile. “That’s okay with you, isn’t it, Mommy Violet?” I ask, rubbing her neck a little harder to influence her answer. “Mommy Violet would be honored.” “Violet?” Summer says in her softest voice behind me. Violet leans around Malory to see Summer, and I crane my neck so I can see her too. “Yeah, honey, is something wrong?” Violet asks.

“No, but you wanted me to tell you when the Angel came back, and she’s in Mommy’s room.” “Nobody else is supposed to be in there, they said two at a time. Damn it, who would be visiting her? We haven’t even told anyone she’s here.” “Major,” Violet says, taking my hand from behind her neck. “I think she means a real angel, not a person.” Violet’s lost her mind. Angels don’t hang out in hospital rooms, and people certainly can’t see them. She must be going along with it for Summer’s benefit. “Oh, okay, well in that case, we had better get in there and see what she has to say today.” I say, playing along. Summer’s face lights up when she thinks we believe her. She turns to run back into Sam’s room and the three of us follow. The nurse eyes us, and I hold up my hand, palm out. “We have to see an

angel. It’ll only take a second, and I promise to go back to two visitors.” She nods, and we all enter the dimly lit room. Summer is having trouble crawling back onto Sam’s bed, so I go to give her a boost. “See? I told you she would come back. She wanted you to come in the room so she could do something.” Summer is pointing at the empty space at the foot of the bed. I wonder if kids hallucinate when they’re really stressed out, and if they do, am I supposed to encourage it or not? “Really? What’s she going to do?” Violet says, moving to the space next to where the angel is supposedly standing with Malory. “She’s going to wake mommy up,” Summer says, smiling wide. Violet and I exchange worried looks. I hate to see Summer disappointed again. This is so hard on her. “She is? That’s amazing, is she sure she can do it?”

Violet asks. Summer looks to the void next to Violet and back, “Yep, she can do it. She says God sent her to answer our prayers. You were right, Violet. Praying works.” “Oh no, this is going to be heart wrenching.” I reach out and rub Summer’s back and break the news that prayers aren’t always answered quickly, and sometimes the answer is no. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to get your hopes up too—” “Major,” Violet says, interrupting me. “We need to explain this to her, Violet—” “No, Major look,” she says, pointing at the screen that reads Sam’s vital signs and brain wave activity, or lack thereof, as it’s been lately. At the exact moment Summer made her claim about the angel answering our prayers, the minimally wavering lines reading her brain’s activity started to spike and drop drastically.

No way. I can’t believe it. “See, told ya,” Summer says, leaning down to hug her mother around the waist. With her eyes closed, she snuggles her mother with the most peaceful smile. Davy hasn’t said a word. He’s been staring at the end of the bed with his mouth hanging open since we walked in. Summer reaches behind her for her mother’s hand and pulls it around her waist. If you didn’t know better, it looks like Samantha’s hugging her daughter, and then I see it. Sam’s fingers moved, all of them. She’s patting Summer’s hip ever so slightly, but she’s moving. “Get the nurse. Tell her to get Dr. Kumar,” I say, making my way around the bed to look at Sam’s face. Her lips part, but that is all. She’s trying to talk. She’s trying to wake up. When I look down at Summer, she peers up at me through her eyelashes with a slightly smug expression. Then I glance around the room at Davy,

who is now concentrating on his mother’s face, and Malory, who is smiling up at the empty angel space. “Malory, what are you doing?” She looks at me with sparkling eyes and says, “Daddy, Violet’s going to have a baby. I’m going to have a real brother or sister!” I can’t swallow past the lump in my throat, and I stumble back a step and grab onto the bed rail for support. She can’t know that, there’s no way . . . unless . . . Violet returns with a nurse and Dr. Kumar. When our eyes meet, she can see something’s wrong—or right. I can’t think right now. Nurses and Dr. Kumar gently escort the kids out of the room, and Violet pulls me aside while they examine Samantha. “Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so good.” “I need to sit down.”

“Oh, okay.” She takes my arm and leads me to a chair at the opposite end of the room from the activity happening around Sam. “Do you feel all right? Should I ask Dr. Kumar to check you out? Seriously, Major, you’re white as a ghost.” “Did you tell Malory about the baby?” “What? No, of course not. I would never do that.” “Who else knows?” “My mother and Dr. Kumar. That’s it, nobody else. Why? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.” I turn to face Violet in the chair next to mine. “She knows. Malory knows you’re pregnant, and she said the . . . the angel told her just now.” I’m not a man of faith. I believe in God, but I’ve never been a big prayer or churchgoer. The first half of my life I hated Him. I couldn’t understand how a loving God could give me such horrible parents. But as time went on and I grew up, things

got better and I released my anger. Now I’m sort of in limbo, well, until a few minutes ago anyway. “I think there was a real angel in here, Violet. I think Summer and Malory saw something.” Violet chuckles and takes my face in her hands. “Of course there was.” She presses a soft kiss on my lips, “You don’t believe in angels and fairies and leprechauns, do you?” she asks with disapproval in her tone. “I do now. Maybe not leprechauns though, they’re creepy.” She laughs and kisses me again, and my mind wanders to all of the things Violet has given me in the short time we’ve known each other. She’s given me a calm I’ve never experienced, happiness, a new child, a soon to be wife, a family of my own, faith, support, and above all, love.

CHAPTER 3 2

VIOLET

Ten weeks later

AN USHER TAKES my arm and leads me down the long aisle of St. Gregory’s Catholic Church with Major and Malory in tow. It’s unbelievable, but Mattie and Belle’s wedding is even more elaborate than the original. As soon as Belle was cleared of her head injury and Mattie’s cast was sawed off,

the plans were back on. They decided on a two-day build up instead of a week this time. They didn’t want to chance another natural disaster cutting the celebration short again. This time around, I don’t have to travel 45 minutes to Oceanside because I live here with Major in a new, bigger, warmer house. It’s still painfully organized and there are rules and lists all over the place, but we make it work, and Major is learning to relax … a little. After some counseling, we decided not to bring the children home to Major’s old house. We had repairs done to Samantha’s kitchen and bathroom, and after some rocky weeks helping Malory conquer her fears, we lived there temporarily until Sam was well enough to come home. Dr. Kumar says he never expected her to have the kind of recovery she’s had. He says it’s nothing short of a miracle, and we all agree. A miracle did happen that day in the ICU, and there are now six

people in the world who will never doubt miracles or the power of prayer again. Samantha is home with a home health aide twenty-four seven. She’s still working on walking and more intricate daily living skills, but she’s expected to have a full recovery within the year. Major took custody of Malory back and she lives with us now full time. She visits Davy and Summer one weekend a month. Major and I go with her so there is no added stress on Sam. I decided to work for Facebook from home in Oceanside most of the time and travel to San Diego only when it’s necessary. I was really excited to find out that Marie was coming to visit and to the wedding. It turns out that Marie knows Belle’s mother, Marjorie. When Marjorie joined the twenty-first century, she also joined Facebook, where they connected again. I was going to ask her to stay with us at the house, but Major is still adjusting to living with someone other than himself, so she’s staying

at a hotel nearby. The usher leads Marie to the row behind us. She sits down, leans forward, and whispers in my ear, “This is some fancy wedding,” “Yeah, Marjorie knows how to whip up a five-star wedding. Maybe she’ll plan mine?” I say. “She never did anything small in college either— always the best of everything,” she says. The music begins to play, preparing for the bride’s entrance. A huge organ on the left side of the alter plays Always by My Side. The bridesmaids walk down the aisle, each one arm in arm with a handsome Marine dressed in dress blues. I declined being a bridesmaid this time around as I wanted to enjoy the ceremony with my new family. And frankly, I wanted the next time I walked down the aisle to be at my own wedding. The music amps up when Belle appears at the end of the aisle, and I feel a little tug on my skirt. It’s Malory, and she’s covering her ears. Major sees

her too and hoists her up to watch Belle go by holding on tight to her father’s arm. I’ll miss having my dad walk me down the aisle when Major and I get married, but he will be there in spirit, of that I am positive. When the service is over and the priest has pronounced Mattie and Belle husband and wife, eight Marines silently march up the aisle in two rows. They turn on cue to face one another and draw their swords, forming an arch. On a second cue, the Marines turn the cutting edge of the blades upward. Mattie and Belle walk under the arch until they reach the last two Marines. Two swords have been lowered to trap them under the arch. Mattie takes Bell in his arms and kisses his new bride with a little more passion than is probably allowed in the church. When he releases her, one Marine playfully swats Belle on the behind with his sword, welcoming her into the Marine Corps family. After the earthquake, they decided to move the wedding to a church. They said it just felt right to

be joined under God’s watchful eye after all He’d brought them through. The touch of Marine Corps support and sense of family was just enough to join both worlds. At the reception, we have our own table up front near the wedding party’s table. Major and I sit next to each other with Malory on his right and Marie on my left. Mom brought the silver fox, a.k.a Dr. Rosewood, a.k.a Mark, as her date. They have been seeing each other since the earthquake. Every time we get together she teases him, saying it took a natural disaster for him to ask her to dance. He apologizes profusely for being so stupid, and they laugh. Every. Single. Time. Once I mumbled something about wishing another earthquake would swallow them up so I wouldn’t have to hear that story again. Major had to leave

the room to laugh. I followed him into the bathroom of Mom’s house, and we proceeded to pretend we were getting revenge by christening her vanity. Now the story is a secret trigger. Whenever they tell it, we sneak away somewhere and make out like teenagers. “So where are you from, Marie?” Major asks, raising a glass of champagne to his lips. I watch half of the bubbly alcohol slide down his throat past his Adam’s apple and find myself wishing mom or Mark would tell that stupid ass story. Major can sense me watching. A sly smile spreads across his lips and he looks at me out of the corner of his eye. He winks, and I’m wet. That’s it, that’s all it takes. Just that damn wink. “I’m from the Midwest originally,” Marie says. Major stills, “Really? Where exactly?” “Oh, around the Minneapolis area. Do you know someone there?”

“Yes, me,” he says. He sets his glass on the table and turns toward Marie, giving her all of his attention. Most women can’t handle being the focus of Major’s undivided attention, but Marie has a membership card to both clubs and recently, she’s been using one more than the other. “Really? I don’t miss the winters or the ice one bit,” Marie says, fussing with the red fabric napkin in her lap. “Me either. I don’t miss anything about that place. Where did you live?” “Oh, toward downtown—bad neighborhood, nothing to brag about.” She’s being vague and trying to end the conversation. I look back and forth between the two of them and find Marie with a thin layer of perspiration covering her forehead. Major is screwing up his face in a twisted, unattractive frown, nothing like the sexy one I beg for.

“I grew up downtown, on Grand. We probably ran into each other at that crappy rundown grocery store on the corner.” “Maybe so. That’s where I got my groceries when I could afford to eat.” “Sounds like we lived the same life,” he says. “How did you end up in California?” “Chasing dreams, running away from nightmares, you know.” She waves her hand in the air, nervously dismissing her answer. He leans back in his chair and looks at Marie hard. He’s thinking. I can see the wheels turning. Suddenly, he sits up, leaning his arms on the table in front of him. “Do you have any children, Marie?” “Major,” I gasp. What the hell? “What? It’s not a difficult question to answer, is it?” he shrugs. “Yes or no, simple as that.” He spits

his words at poor Marie, and she recoils in her chair. He’s pissed, like really angry. “What’s the matter with you?” I ask. He won’t take his eyes off Marie. He’s still waiting for her to answer. “No, it’s all right, Violet. He’s right, it’s not a hard question. It’s not that easy for me, however, and I suspect Major already knows the answer.” I am so lost. It’s like these two are having a fight in some secret code. “What is going on with you two? Do you know one another or something? Is there some Minnesota neighborhood gang war or family feud I don’t know about?” “Violet, I’m thirsty. When are we getting drinks?” Malory says, oblivious to the tension zipping in the air between Marie and Major. Up until now, she’s been watching the other guests seat themselves, probably scoping out some friends to dance with

later. “Come on, honey, let’s go get you a Shirley Temple at the bar,” my mom says, swooping in to save the day. She and Mark have been sitting across the table trying to pretend they aren’t hearing this weird exchange between my favorite co-worker and my favorite man. “Thanks, Mom. Go ahead, sweetie, Lilly and Mark will get you something to drink.” “What’s Shirley Temple?” One thing I’ve learned about kids is that they’re always inquisitive. “It’s not a what, it’s a who. She was a singer a long time ago . . .” Mom takes her hand and begins to tell her the story of Shirley Temple as they walk away. “Okay you two, spill it.” I say. “Your friend, Marie, is my mother. My biological mother. Samantha’s too.”

“Huh?” I blink, and my jaw hits the table. The song, All of You that’s been playing warps and stretches out like a piece of well-chewed gum being pulled out of a child’s mouth and wrapped around their finger. “Your mom? How—what? I am beyond confused.” “I didn’t think you recognized me. It’s been such a long time,” Marie says. “Wait, I thought you said you gave up one child for adoption when you were a teenager,” I say to Marie. “And how could you possibly know Marie is your mom?” I ask Major. “She gave us both away when we were three and five. I remember the day you dropped us off at the police station and said you couldn’t afford to feed us.” Marie’s breath catches, and tears begin to streak down her face. “I’m so sorry, Sawyer. I was a selfish junkie. I

should have given you up for adoption when you were born so you would have always had good parents. But I loved you and I wouldn’t give you away. I was barely surviving when Sam came along, but I did it again. I thought I could get clean and take care of you, but I couldn’t. I was afraid someone was going to hurt you, so I took you to the only place I knew you would be safe.” “Safe?” he says incredulously. “We would have been better off taking our chances with you. Do you have any idea what we went through? How many foster homes we bounced around in? The people who finally adopted us abused us for years until I left and took Sam with me.” Major stands and shoves his chair back, cracking it against an elderly woman’s chair behind him. “Major, wait. Where are you going?” I say, grabbing his hand. For the first time since we met, Major is rude to me. He shakes his hand free and storms away, weaving in and out of tables until he’s out of the ballroom.

“What the hell just happened here?” My head is spinning. I can’t grasp the idea of Marie being Major’s mother—and Sam’s too! “Did you know who he was? Have you been keeping tabs on him all these years? Are we even really friends?” My pulse is pounding, and my voice rises with every word I speak. “Violet, don’t get so worked up. It’s not good for the baby.” “That’s rich, coming from you,” I snap and slap my hand over my mouth, surprised by my own kneejerk reaction. “I’m sorry—” “No, don’t be. I deserve it. I was a horrible mother, but I really did think I was doing the right thing by giving them to someone else. I didn’t know they would suffer. God, what happened to them?” She is sobbing into her red napkin now, drawing everyone’s attention to us, making a scene.

“Marie, let’s step out and talk.” She nods and we stand to leave just as I see my mother coming back from the bar with Malory. I point at Marie’s back and make a gesture toward the door and she nods. In the lobby, we sit on a couch tucked out of view. She sits on the very edge of the cushion like she’s going to bolt at any second. “It was bad, Marie, really bad. Think of the worst thing an adult can do to a child, and most likely, it happened to Sam and Sawyer.” “Oh … no. I always envisioned them with beautiful, successful parents who loved them and gave them everything I couldn’t. Violet, what do I do? How do I make this right?” I shake my head back and forth. “Marie, I’m afraid there is no making this right. what’s done is done. The only thing I can suggest is to ask them for their forgiveness and try to build on that. When did you know he was your son?”

“The second I laid eyes on him on the sidewalk with you that day.” “Why didn’t you say anything then?” “I was nervous, and then you fell in love with him and I saw what a successful, wonderful man he had become. I wanted to be part of that. I was hoping he wouldn’t recognize me and we could just be friends. I would get to know the man he grew up to be and he wouldn’t have to do the whole tell-youradoptive-mother-you-found-your-biological-mom thing.” “Sorta backfired on you.” “Yeah, I’ll say. I’m going to go. I’m sorry I ruined this day for your family.” “Wait.” I put my hand on Marie’s to stop her when she starts to get up. “How did you get clean? How did you end up in California?” There are so many things I want to ask her so I can

tell Major. I know he won’t want to talk to her again any time soon, but if I can explain what happened from her point of view, he might someday. “I was shipped out here in a prostitution ring— sold, so to say. A woman walked in on a customer and me at a swanky party and blackmailed the guy into giving me to her. She runs an organization that works to stop human trafficking. HATH, Humans Against Trafficking Humans. They got me clean and helped me go to college. I owe them my life.” This family has been through hell and back, and I’m not sure Major will be able to put it behind him. His head is a mess because of his abusive foster parents, but who’s to say he wouldn’t have been just as bad off if he’d stayed with his mother? “I’ll try to talk to him, but I’m not making any guarantees.” “Thank you, it’s more than I expected. I loved them, you know? I didn’t want that life for them. I

thought I was doing the right thing.” She sniffles and takes a tissue from her purse before she leaves. I watch her walk out the front doors and slouch back on the couch. What now? This is a king sized mess and I have no idea how to clean it up. I inhale and blow out a long breath, rubbing my belly with one hand. “Are you okay?” Major’s voice comes from behind me. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets. He takes one out and points at my hand rubbing my bump and rounds the couch to stand over me. God, he’s handsome in his dress blues. All the Marines at the wedding wore their uniforms. I should be thinking about strategies to reunite him with his mother, but his buttons and those stripes are very distracting. “I’m fine. We’re fine. How are you?” He sits down close to me and places his hand over mine on my belly.

“I don’t know. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize her that day on the street when you introduced us. I was so wrapped up in you, I guess I wasn’t paying much attention. She looks different now—better, actually. Older but better. I remember her as a skinny, greasy haired waif with droopy, drugged out eyes.” “She’s come a long way since then. She went through a lot too. I’m not saying what she did was right. But she was a kid and she was alone and scared. She did the only thing she could do.” “And we all paid for her addiction with years of abuse.” “True, but it’s done and you can’t change it. You’re a good man and she just wanted to be close to you without disturbing the life you’ve built for yourself.” “I thought she was dead, you know? I tried to dig up information on her when I was seventeen. We were so desperate to get away that I was trying to

find her and see if she could take us back. I must have been looking at the wrong junkie’s paperwork. I can’t believe I have a living biological relative other than Sam.” “I’m sorry. This is so unbelievable. I don’t even know what to say to make you feel better.” “Nothing.” He kisses my cheek and stands, pulling me up with him. “Let’s go back in there and try to forget all of this for a couple of hours and celebrate your friends’ wedding. And then I’ll take you home and we can practice for our honeymoon all night.” “Sure?” I ask. “Positive.” “I like the honeymoon thing, and you’re killing me in that uniform, you know.” He looks down at himself. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I say, nodding my head up and down. He scowls. And winks. Dressed in his uniform. My heart skips a beat. “That’s a triple threat, Major Steele.” “I know.” “You’re so bad.” “I know.”

CHAPTER 3 3

MAJOR

Forgive and Forget I hand my mom a cup of coffee and open up the daily newspaper on my tablet. A story about Craig’s arrest for drug trafficking out of his clinic and attempted murder lines the side column of the front page. The article is small but still on the front page. Will this story ever go away? Maybe now that Craig is going away, it will too. He’s not getting out of prison for a very long time, and I

couldn’t be more pleased. Sam and the kids deserve peace and closure so they can get back to their lives. “I saw that this morning, I was going to mention it but I figured you’d see it anyway,” my mom says. Never in my life did I imagine myself sitting down on a Sunday afternoon for coffee with my real mother to discuss the news. “I knew it was coming. The arraignment is this week. I’ll just be glad to get this all behind us so Sam and the kids can get back to normal. Whatever that’s going to be now.” “They have good support. I’m sure they will be all right,” she says with a smile. A thump and the sound of giggling come from upstairs. “She’s just braiding her hair. They will be down in a minute,” I say, explaining the noise. After weeks of being the stubborn ass that I am, I

listened to Violet tell me what my mother went through before and after she gave us up. I was pissed. I’m still pissed, but Violet made me realize that holding onto anger doesn’t do anybody any good. Now I’m getting to know Marie. Malory has a grandma and Samantha has a mother, and Violet has a soon to be mother-in-law. Sam was much quicker to forgive. That’s just how she is. Violet and Marie are taking the kids to a movie this afternoon and I’m going to spend some time with Sam. My sister is the second most inspiring, amazing woman I know, Violet being the first. I am blown away on a daily basis with her progress. They gave her a year to be ninety percent, but she’s going to surpass that estimate by six months at least. “Ready?” Malory yells, racing down the stairs. Violet follows at a much slower, much safer pace, which makes me very happy. I love watching her body change and grow in all the right places.

Pregnancy suits her well. “Sure thing, let’s go.” Violet catches up and heads straight for Marie’s coffee cup. She picks it up off the table and dumps it out, washes it, dries it, and replaces it in the cupboard. “How come he gets to keep his?” Marie complains. “Because he’s staying and you’re coming with me.” “He’s rubbing off on you, isn’t he?” “I think it goes both ways. I’m neater and he’s . . . not freaking out when someone isn’t sterile.” They laugh at me, but nobody’s been sick since we moved into this house and I take all the credit. Marie lifts Violet’s left hand when she walks by the table. “You finally made it official.”

I ‘put a ring on it’, as the kids keep saying, a week ago. We had a few hours alone when Malory went to pre-school. I filled our sinker tub for two, or three, as it turns out, with bubbles and lit candles all over the bathroom. I massaged her shoulders and her arms, and when I reached her hands, I slipped a three-carat teardrop diamond ring on her finger, and then I slipped her something else. Both made her happy, but only one made her cry. Pregnant women cry a lot. I looked it up to make sure it was normal, and apparently it is, along with a million other things. But I’m not complaining. “Yep, you like it?” she asks. Marie looks at her like she’s dense. “Uh yea, there’s so much of it to love.” She turns Violet’s hand and the sun catches it, spraying sparkles of light all over the kitchen walls. “Watch out, he might try to wash that off,” Violet says, teasing me. I roll my eyes and drink my coffee. Let ‘em tease.

Who will come to their rescue when they lose their keys or a shoe? Me. Who will have the healthiest kid in school? Me. Who will have the most satisfied wife on earth? Me. That last one doesn’t have much to do with being organized and germ free, but it’s true just the same. Violet bends down to kiss me. Her hands are on my shoulders and mine are holding my coffee cup. The generous show of cleavage isn’t lost on me. I know what she’s doing when she sucks that full bottom lip of hers between her teeth. She’s promising to take care of me after the movie. “How long is your movie?” “I dunno, the normal length I guess.” I stare down at her ample breasts and then focus on her mouth. “What are you going to see?” She slides one hand off my shoulder and lifts my chin until we’re eye to eye.

“The never ending story.”

EPILOGUE

Five years later “Is anybody planning on picking up this mess?” I yell from the living room. Maggie tears through the Lego mess on the floor in her slippers, laughing wildly with Malory right on her heels. “I’m serious, girls, this isn’t funny. Get in here and put these away.”

“Dad, she won’t give me my pink marker and I need it for my homework!” Malory stomps back into the room, throwing her hands in the air. “Magnolia Marie Steele, report to the living room, now!” Maggie peeks her little curly head around the corner, flashing me her seafoam green eyes. She’s holding back her laughter, nearly bursting at the seams, but it doesn’t last long. Malory lunges toward her and Maggie shrieks. She’s gone, Malory is gone, and the mess is still here. I slide my hands through my hair on both sides of my head and count to ten. I’ve come a long way in five years, but I will not tolerate messes or disobedience. “Hey there, Marine, you doin’ all right?” Violet. Thank you, merciful God, for sending her home from work early.

“No. Your children are not listening, and I’m about to lose my shit with all these Legos on the floor.” “Aw, poor baby.” She sets her purse on the chair positioned precisely where she used to drop it on the floor when she would come home from work. I like her purse off the floor. Purses carry millions of germs, and nobody is allowed to sit in that chair. She sashays across the room in her tank top and baggy linen pants that hang low on her curvy hips. When she reaches me, she lifts my shirt up and kisses each muscle in my eight-pack. She stops when she reaches my sternum to look up at me through her long, black lashes. “I like this view, but can you do me a favor and move south about twelve inches?” She laughs and drops my shirt just in time for the girls to make another pass through the room at warp speed. “Hey! Hey now! Stop!” she yells, grabbing each one by part of their shirt and effectively stopping

them. “What did Daddy just tell you to do?” “Pick up Legos,” Maggie says, rolling her eyes. Four and a half, and she’s totally mastered the eye roll already. “Malory?” “Pick up the Legos and don’t run in the house. But, Mom, she won’t give me—” “Don’t wanna hear it. You give the marker back, and both of you clean up this mess.” She points at Maggie, who is clutching the pink marker in question and then waves her hands in a circle, gesturing at the the Lego mess. “And listen to your daddy.” “Daddy? Can I see you upstairs for a minute? I’m going to take care of that thing you were asking about, you know, the one . . .” She mouths the words, ‘twelve inches south’ and points down. The mess and the marker and the screaming, running

kids are forgotten, and I’m pushing Violet toward the stairs. I look back and see both girls on their knees, tossing the tiny little torture devices into the bucket labeled Legos. Malory has the pink marker, and it’s sticking out of the back pocket of her jeans. I prop my chin on Violet’s shoulder on the way up the stairs and reach around to feel her flat belly. “Why do they listen to you and not me most of the time?” I ask. “Why are they my kids when they’re driving you crazy?” she says. “Why do you always answer my questions with a question?” “Why not?” She bursts out laughing, and I shove her into our bedroom and lock the door. “You’re gonna get it now, Mrs. Steele.” “I thought you were gonna get it, Major Steele?”

She says, cocking her head to the side, pretending to be confused. “Okay, truce. Let’s both get it,” I say. “Deal,” she says, reaching out to shake my hand. I take her hand and lead her to the bed. She lifts her arms and I peel her tank top off and unclasp her bra. She gently tugs the drawstring on her pants and they pool on the floor around her feet. I’ll fold those in a little while. She strips my shirt over my head, standing on her tiptoes, and tosses it in the growing pile of clothes before she sits down on the edge of the bed to unbutton my jeans. She looks up at me again the same way she did downstairs, only this time, exactly twelve inches south. Her hands slide around to my ass and she pushes my jeans and boxers down, freeing my hard length. The exact moment she touches her gifted tongue to the tip of my cock, there’s a knock on the door.

“Mommy, Malory locked me out of her room,” Maggie wails. I look down at Violet, and she flops onto her back on the mattress. I’ve always said kids have shitty timing, but this is ridiculous. “This is going to have to wait, isn’t it?” I ask. “I guess so.” She sighs. “Like for ten years, until she’s a teenager and Malory is in college?” I say, pulling up my jeans. “Um, no, try fifteen or twenty.” “Are you counting on Maggie flunking a few years of school?” “No, I’m counting the years until the new baby is a teenager,” she says, hopping up. She pecks me on the lips and bends down to grab her clothes. “I’m pregnant,” she announces with wild, crazy

eyes, pulling on her clothes. Maggie knocks again. “Mommy.” “Duty calls.” She flutters her fingers in a playful wave goodbye and slips out the door. Groaning, I smooth out the comforter where she was laying and turn around and sit on the edge of the bed. Another baby? Can I do this again? I hear music blasting down the hall . . . Malory. I get up and open the bedroom door and follow the sound to her room. When I reach the threshold of her open door, I stop and watch my wife and two daughters dance like maniacs to the latest number one hit on the pop charts. Maggie is jumping on Malory’s bed, making a colossal disaster of her blankets and pillows. Malory and Violet are flipping their hair all over the place, jamming out. I lean against the doorframe with my hands in my pockets and smile. This is my never ending story.

There is no end to this story.

A LSO BY EMERSON RO SE

King’s Baby Playboy’s Baby Major’s Baby Fair Game Fair Catch Fair Play Unbroken

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ACKNOWLED GMENT S

I always start by thanking my daughters. Thank you, girls, I appreciate your never-ending patience and tolerance of my grueling schedule. I love you all more than cookies, and you know how much I love cookies. Next I would like to thank Patty at Prism Heart Press. Thank you for putting up with me. I know it’s not easy and I’m a brat, but I promise to keep writing you epic love stories if you don’t strangle

me. And thank you for keeping me grounded and telling me I’m ‘normal’ even though we both know that’s crap. Next I’d like to give a big thanks to my new editor Resa with I Can Edit 4 U. You are amazing and I can’t thank you enough for being incredibly fast and efficient. You were a joy, and I look forward to working with you more in the future. Cover Luv, wow! You never cease to amaze me with your spot on perfect cover designs. I can’t wait to see Commanding Officer on my bookshelf. I love this cover it’s one of my favorites, thank you, thank you, thank you! Another big thanks to my girls in the Wild Roses for pimping my work, reading and reviewing my ARC’s and being the best readers and fans a girl could ask for. I love you ladies! And last but never least I want to thank my dear friend and PA Jaye Hart for being by my side through all of my blunders, experiments, and

adventures. I appreciate your help and opinions more than you know.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emerson Rose is a self-proclaimed sun worshiper and summer lover who loves nothing more than to be poolside with any of her five daughters or two granddaughters. Emerson lives in the Midwest, however, so most of the year is spent in coats and boots instead of swimsuits and flip-flops.

Emerson spends her weekdays carpooling, writing romance, doing laundry, and letting dogs in and out and in and out of the house.

On the weekends she’s a busy O.B. nurse in a nearby

hospital helping women have babies. So you could say she works both ends of the life spectrum, first she writes the romance that makes couples frisky and then she shows up nine months later to catch the baby!

Emerson is also a big fan of love and happily ever afters.

“I’ve been bitten by the love bug and I can’t resist sharing that feeling. I write about strong intelligent women and confident, competitive, dominant men who want to believe they are in control. But hey let’s face it we all know who’s behind all that confidence.” – Emerson Rose

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