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“Are you sure I can’t do anything?” Everleigh asked.
Phone to her ear, Marley sat propped up against the headboard in the master bedroom of the old rental house. She’d just poured out the entire story to her bestie and felt better for it. “I’m sure. But I love you for asking. Please thank Grady for the update on Henry.” Obviously she couldn’t go visit him at the hospital in person right now, but Grady was on shift and had passed on a message for her.
Somehow, Henry was still hanging tough. Not improving, still incredibly weak, but holding on. Marley wanted him to recover and return to the care home, but if that wasn’t going to happen, she wanted him to just go now, quickly, and not have the end dragged out. She didn’t want him to suffer, and he wouldn’t want that either.
“I will.” Everleigh paused. “So how’s it...going there? With the two of you. Is it hideously awkward?”
Her plan was to avoid him as much as possible. Things were too messy otherwise and this entire situation was hard enough already. “You could say that, yeah. I’m still mad as hell at him.” It wasn’t that simple anymore, however. “But the longer I’m with him, the harder it is to hold onto that. I get that he thought he was trying to protect me. Whatever this is, it’s dangerous. He’s apologized a few times and he’s trying to do the right thing now by guarding me himself.”
As well as making it clear that he still wanted her more than ever. That was the toughest part, and something she was trying not to think about. Because the pull he exerted on her was too strong. Heightened because of nearly having lost him and the time they’d spent apart, rather than diminished by everything.
“But? I can hear a but in there.”
Everleigh knew her so well. “But I know I can’t trust him not to leave again.”
Ev made a sympathetic sound. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. That’s so hard.”
“Yeah.” She lowered her voice. Warwick was down the other end of the hall in the living room working on something, so it’s not like he could hear her, but still. “What makes it even harder is the chemistry’s still there. No, chemistry’s the wrong word for it. Too bland.”
“Fireworks?”
“No.” She contemplated it for a moment. “Just fire,” she said. That’s what it was. A white-hot fire between them, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get incinerated. “I’ve never felt anything so intense with anyone else.”
“I totally get it. It’s like that for me with Grady.”
She made an understanding sound, glad her friend had found that kind of connection with someone. “And then today he...”
“He what?” Ev pressed.
“He told me there’s been no one else since me.”
“Oh, wow. Oh, Mar...”
“I know.” That comment had really hit her hard. Made her heart hurt to know he’d been holding onto the memory of her all this time while keeping his distance because he had been wanting to protect her from something he didn’t even understand himself. “I can’t say the same, of course.” About six months after being told Warwick was dead, she’d forced herself to start dating again. Not that it had ever gone anywhere.
“You don’t feel guilty about that, do you? You thought he was gone forever. You had to move on.”
“No, I know.” Nothing had ever lasted more than a week at most anyway. “Even though I had fun sometimes, I always ended up feeling more alone after. Empty. And now that he’s back and made it clear he still cares about me, I...”
“Can’t stop wanting him.”
“Yup.” She blew out a breath. “So yeah, that’s how it’s going, and we’re stuck here together for God knows how long. Oh, and there’s also someone out there trying to target both of us. It’s good times,” she added sarcastically.
Everleigh chuckled. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not supposed to be funny, but your wit is so cute.”
She couldn’t help but smile a little. “Thanks. I guess bridesmaid gown shopping is out for the next while, huh?”
“Don’t even worry about that! We’ll find you something awesome when this is all over. Hopefully soon.”
“Yeah, hopefully.” The wedding was in a little over a month. Surely this would all be behind her by then.
“We’re so going out to do something fun as soon as you’re home.”
“Hell yes, we are. And by fun, I hope you don’t mean another quilting class or book club night. No offense.”
Everleigh laughed. “No. Something a little more lively than that. I was thinking a girls’ date. Winery tour and dinner. Hell, I’ll even go dancing with you at a club after.”
“I’m in.” She smiled again, feeling a tiny bit lighter inside. Venting to Everleigh had helped more than she’d expected. “I love you, you know. I’m so thankful you moved in down the hall from me that day.” They’d hit it off immediately. Just clicked, both of them somehow recognizing the other as a kindred spirit who had gone through their own version of hell and were trying to put their lives back together again.
“Me too, and you know I love you back.”
A dinging sound came from the kitchen. The ancient oven timer still worked. “Oh, my biscuits are done. Gotta go.”
Time to gird her loins and face Warwick again.
“Okay, but call me if you need anything. And stay safe. Promise?”
“Promise.” She opened the bedroom door and hurried into the kitchen, steeling herself.
Warwick was already there turning off the timer. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and her stomach did a little flip. Even scarred up and bruised, he was a gorgeous man, all masculine grace and controlled power. The ridges of muscle outlined by his shirt had her itching to run her hands all over him.
“I think they’re done, but you’re the expert,” he said, his deep, accented voice surrounding her.
He moved aside slightly for her while she stepped closer to open the oven door and take a peek. The oven temperature was hotter than what the gauge read, because the biscuits were dark brown on the bottom. “They’re a little overdone, but not bad,” she said, pulling on an oven mitt to slide the pan out and set it on the counter.
He inhaled appreciatively. “They look amazin’.”
Marley froze, the oven mitt still holding the edge of the pan. He was so close she could smell the soap he’d used in the shower earlier. So close that if she turned around, they would be face-to-face and only inches apart.
So close that if she turned around, she might forget all the reasons she needed to keep her walls up and give in to the crushing need swirling inside her.
“I’ll get the plates,” he said, stepping away to the cupboard and allowing her to breathe again. He took down two, got them each some silverware while she stirred the sausage gravy she’d left to simmer in the pan on the stove.
“Okay, it’s ready,” she announced, and began plating their meals. Focusing on the task at hand so she wouldn’t have to focus on him. Two biscuits for him, one for her, with a generous ladle of creamy sausage gravy over the top for both.
Warwick took the plates for her and carried them to the small round table in the tiny breakfast nook in front of the covered window. “I’ve dreamed about these,” he told her with a little grin as he picked up his knife and fork. “Ever since you made them for me that first time.”
She hadn’t made them since, because they reminded her of him, and it had been way too painful. “I’m out of practice, but hopefully it’ll taste okay.”
He cut a bite of biscuit. Scooped up more gravy with it. Popped it in his mouth. The low sound of pleasure he made, part groan, part hum, went right to her core. Utterly sensual and decadent, just like the man himself.
Marley forced her concentration to her own plate. As soon as they both started eating, a strained silence crept in. Thickening with each passing second.
It felt unbearably intimate, the two of them eating alone in here together. Not only that, but in spite of her resolve her gaze kept straying to him.
Watching his mouth. Remembering it on hers. The feel of it on her naked body while he learned all the things that drove her wild. The way he’d savored her, pushing her to the point of desperation and then devotedly lingering on the exact spots that gave her maximum pleasure.
Shit.
She tore her eyes off him and concentrated on her meal, barely tasting anything. The gravy was decent, but the biscuits were definitely overdone and a bit dry. But that wasn’t the only reason she struggled to get hers down her throat every time she swallowed.
The air around them had become charged with an electric current. She could feel it tingling along her skin, her body acutely aware of his. And that he was more than willing to satisfy the unbearable craving he’d lit inside her.
She couldn’t help but think about their kiss this morning. The terrifying hunger it had unleashed, the way he’d threatened to break her control simply by standing in front of her.
No, she told herself firmly. That’s all over.
It had to be if she was going to survive this unscathed.
“What were you working on?” she asked him to get out of her head.
“Tryin’ to piece things together. Starting with the Lake District op.”
She finally looked up at him, lowered her fork. Hoping he was finally going to open up about all this. There was no point in keeping it from her now. They were in the shit together. “What do you remember?”
“The lead up to it. My team. I remember being kitted up and waiting outside the house for the order to breach.” He paused, a faraway look in his dark eyes. “I remember the teammate behind me squeezin’ me shoulder to signal he was ready. I broke in the door.” He frowned. “I...can’t remember exactly what happened after that. Just a vague sense of thinkin’ ‘oh, shite,’ and seeing a tripwire. Then a quick flash. And flyin’ backward.”
Her heartbeat accelerated. God, that sounded terrifying. She had training but had never been deployed or seen combat. Knowing how close he’d come to dying had every muscle in her body clenching in denial.
“I don’t remember being hit. Or the impact when I hit the wall. The first responders or being in the ambulance afterward. Naught at all until I woke up in my hospital room and seeing a nurse and my commander there.”
Her gaze traveled over the length of the scar on the side of his face. She wanted to trace her fingers over it. Kiss it. Kiss every single mark on his body to try and take away the suffering he must have endured during his recovery. “You were lucky.” Her voice was rough, all her emotions rising to the surface.
His eyes focused on her. Deep and dark and full of yearning. For her. “Aye.”
That painful ache started up behind her sternum again, the gulf of time and loss and pain standing between them. She couldn’t let him in again. Just couldn’t. “You think whatever’s going on now is connected to that somehow?” she asked to keep him talking.
“It has to be.” He shook his head, frustration bleeding into his expression. “There’s something more to it. My gut’s tellin’ me there is. That there’s a critical piece I’m missin’, something that happened before that op, and I can’t remember what the hell it is. Somethin’ I saw? Or heard?” He shook his head again. “I just know it has somethin’ to do with Grey.”
Since Grey had been involved in a terror network that now operated on both sides of the Atlantic, that could mean any number of things. “Have you talked with anyone else involved with it? Someone you think might be able to fill in the blanks?”
“No. All three other men on that breaching team either died in the blast or of their injuries shortly after. My commander was reassigned before I came out of the coma. We had brief contact right after the Durham op. I’ve thought about reachin’ out to him now, though I’m not sure what he could do to help at this point. I need to remember the bits I’m missing, and so far, there’s naught.”
His frustration was palpable, and she didn’t know how to help him.
He looked down at his plate, cut another bite of biscuit smothered in gravy. “Anyway, enough of that for now. Did you speak to Everleigh?”
“Yes.” She didn’t dare look up at him again. Afraid that if she looked into those deep dark eyes right now, she’d never be able to pull free again. “Henry’s still fighting.”
“That’s good news.”
She nodded, cut another bite of biscuit. She wasn’t hungry. Too on edge to even attempt to enjoy what she’d made, the worry about the threat hanging over them and the strained tension between them pulling her stomach into a knot.
But somehow this silence was worse. So she broke it. “I still have a lot of questions.”
He stilled, looked up at her. “Aye, I figured,” he said softly, and she could see his guard drop. “What do you want to know?”
Everything. “Are you really from Newcastle?” She had no idea if anything he’d told her about himself last year had been true at all.
“Aye.”
“You told me you don’t have any family left.”
“I don’t. Me mum died about seven years back. Now there’s no one.”
“Were you close?”
“No.” He sighed, put the forkful in his mouth—lucky biscuit—and chewed thoughtfully. “She was a single mum. Did the best she could, I suppose, but it was hard for her. She didn’t want to be a mum. At least, not on her own. She didn’t bother hidin’ it.”
“In what way?” She so badly wanted to know him better. Understand him.
He shrugged. “I was a burden to her and I knew it. An obligation. She fed me and kept a roof over my head and clothes on my back, but that was about the extent of it. As soon as she felt I was old enough to take care of myself, she was done with me and let me know it was time for me to go.”
Oh, God, how awful. “How old were you?”
“Sixteen. Old enough.”
“What did you do?” She was afraid he’d wound up on the streets.
“Lived with friends here and there, but never for long. Wound up at a shelter for teenage boys until I finished school and then went into the military. Turned out to be the making of me.”
Her chest tightened as her own past flooded back. She and Warwick had more in common than she’d realized. “For me, too. Well, us,” she added when he looked up at her.
“Us?”
“My brothers and I.”
He held her gaze, completely focused on her and what she was saying. “Aye, you told me you lost both your parents when you were young.”
She nodded. She’d told him some of it one night after dinner while they’d been walking along the beach at the resort. “My dad died of a heart attack when I was nine. Decker was twelve, and the twins were only seven. Our mom basically worked and drank herself to death afterward, but honestly, she was gone long before she died.”
Warwick remained silent, watching her. Waiting for her to go on.
So she did. “Even before she died, she couldn’t take care of us properly, so Deck and I took over. He was the provider, out working part-time jobs after school and on weekends to make sure we could eat and stay in the house together.”
He made a quiet sound. “And you?”
“I raised the twins. Took care of them and the house. Made sure they were fed and got to school and got their homework done.” It had been so completely overwhelming at first, she’d thought she would drown under the weight of it all, struggling to balance all of that with her own schoolwork.
And then, over time, it had somehow become normal. “Mom died right before Decker graduated. He went straight into the Marine Corps, sent home all the money he could to us. I held down the fort while he was gone, waited until the twins graduated before enlisting.”
“What about your degree?”
“I used the GI bill to get my degree in business management. Decker and I both sent the twins money every month to help them get by until they enlisted and were making enough to take care of themselves.” Well, she and Decker still pitched in financially for the twins from time to time, like at Christmas or on their birthday, to help build them a little nest egg to tuck away. Neither of them wanted the twins to have to struggle as much as they had.
His eyes shone with admiration. “It’s incredible how you took care of all that on your own.”
“We’re family.” And she hated that Warwick had never experienced that kind of love and support. Even Decker with his frustratingly distant edge, she knew he loved her and the twins. Through everything, all the hard times they’d endured, at least they’d all known what unconditional love was, and that they had each other’s backs.
No matter how bad things had gotten, they’d had each other. While Warwick hadn’t had anyone.
“But our background is also why all of us are careful with our money. I still clip coupons and look for sales when I grocery shop, and I have to have my freezer and pantry stocked at all times. I’ve only started spending money on extras recently, and I sometimes feel guilty after I do.”
“Makes sense. You learned early on to put yourself last.”
She stilled, his words resonating deep inside.
He was right. She had done that. And she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that it had cost her in her life.
Her living situation, for example. She was still renting rather than looking for a place to buy because she hadn’t been able to save much until the past few years and was still socking away whatever money she had left at the end of each month. Waiting until she had enough to pay for at least half a home to minimize the stress of a big mortgage.
“I guess I did,” she said quietly, a little shaken by how clearly and deeply he saw her. It only made her feel more drawn to him.
She looked back down at her plate. Quickly finished off the last bite and stood abruptly. “There’s plenty more, so help yourself. I’m just gonna go take a quick nap.”
Liar. You’re running away.
Yup. She hurried to the sink to deal with her plate, relieved to have her back to him.
She needed space from him. Now, before she gave into all the feelings and the tide of need he created inside her.
With every step she took down the hall to the bedroom, she could feel the weight of that dark gaze following her until the moment she shut the door behind her.
