Hurricane Hearts

by Nina Levine

  I poured myself some whisky, not even bothering to ask Carey if he wanted some, and muttered, “I believe that,” before drinking half of what I’d poured. “And for the record, you are arrogant.”

  “I’ll own that,” he said, “but I’m also right. Don’t forget that.”

  I emptied the glass and refilled it straight away. “I’ll tell you what you are. You’re presumptuous, cocky, and too fucking smug about some things.” I drank more whisky. “And just so you know, women don’t like those things.” I emptied the glass again as a nice buzz settled in.

  Carey stood. “Fuck, I’ll leave you two alone so you can get this shit out of your system.” He eyed me. “If I’m correct in my assumption that you came here to discuss Winter, my advice is that you should just give in now because it’s clear as fuck to me that you’re still in love with him.”

  I stared after him as he left the room.

  Worst. Brother. Ever.

  I poured another whisky and downed that fucker in one long gulp.

  “What happened with the date, Birdie?”

  I placed my glass on the coffee table. Ignoring Winter’s question, I asked, “Why are you here?”

  “Carey and I have been catching up. Why are you avoiding my question?”

  Still ignoring his question, I said, “You can’t just come back into our lives and pick right back up where you were, Winter. Life doesn’t work like that.”

  He drank some beer. “Yeah, it does. If you want it to, it does.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why are you so intent on keeping me out of your life?”

  My mind went straight to the reason and my insides knotted with stress as I thought about it. For a second, I contemplated what life would look like if I told him.

  He’d hate me.

  He’d leave me alone and I’d be able to get back to my life.

  He’d also break in more ways than he already had when I left him. And that wasn’t something I could do to him.

  “I’m not. I’m just—”

  “You are. And I want to know why.”

  I needed to divert this conversation because as much as he thought he wanted to know this, he didn’t. In an effort to do that, I blurted, “Why did you join Storm?”

  He was silent for a beat. Thoughtful. Like he was weighing up whether to go down this path with me. Finally, he settled back against the couch and downed the rest of his beer before saying, “I had to take my mind off you somehow.”

  Not what I was expecting, his admission totally stole all my thoughts. Gone. Whoosh.

  God.

  Why did I ask that question?

  I needed another drink.

  I poured it in silence, hyperaware of his eyes on me. It would be a miracle if we made it through tonight without having a huge fight or having sex. I felt both brewing.

  After another gulp of whisky, I found his eyes again and said, “I get that, but I don’t believe you joined an MC club simply because of me.” For the life of me, I didn’t know why I continued this conversation, but I was like a moth to a flame with it. With him. When he stole all my thoughts, he also stole all my sense.

  “I didn’t join it because of you, Birdie, but I was a fucking wreck after you left, and the club was a good place to help me forget.” He paused for a moment. “Not that I ever forgot. No one forgets you.”

  I slowly drank some more whisky. The mood between us had shifted. Darker. An edge had crept into Winter’s voice. One I didn’t know and was unsure of.

  “I think we’re done here,” I said, standing. I’d get an Uber home and forget tonight ever happened.

  Before I knew what was happening, Winter stood and came my way. Grasping my hand, he stopped me, and with more of that darker, edgier side, he growled, “We’re not even close to done here.”

  8

  WINTER

  I’d let Birdie go each day this week when she’d told me no, but I’d be fucked if I let her go tonight. Not after learning she’d cancelled that date of hers. She could lie to my face about her feelings for me, but ditching that dickhead tonight was a sign that even she couldn’t ignore.

  Grabbing her hand, I held it firmly enough to signal my intention, and said, “We’re not even close to done here.”

  She sucked in a breath as her eyes widened. “Winter,” she started but stalled before more words found their way out.

  I placed a finger to her lips, silencing those words. “Talk to me, Angel. You never had trouble doing that before.” Hell, Birdie was a talker; I’d sat through thousands of conversations with her, half the time wondering why we were discussing a particular topic. She questioned everything, from whether we’d end up together in our afterlife, to what I thought would have happened to a couple in a movie if they’d chosen a different path, to why yoghurt container sizes weren’t rounded up to the closest even number. But I’d always listened because she held my attention in ways no one else ever had.

  Silence lingered between us while I waited for her response. The turmoil in her eyes showed me the battle going on in her head. Whatever held her back had a firm grip.

  Finally, the words spilled from her. “There’s stuff you don’t know that happened before we broke up. Stuff that you—”

  “That was five years ago. Whatever it was has no bearing on today.”

  A pained expression filled her face. “But it does.”

  “You told me you didn’t cheat on me and I believe you. That’s my only hard limit. I don’t give a fuck what else happened that you think would stop us from being together. Life’s too short and most of the stuff everyone gets hung up on doesn’t mean shit when all is said and done. I just want to be with you. End of story.” Afghanistan had left too much of a mark on me to worry about half the things I used to. Fuck, people were losing their lives in wars they never asked for while we were over here getting hung up on petty shit. I’d come home determined to let it all go and just focus on loving Birdie every second of every day. Living without her for the past five years had been hell; there wasn’t anything that would keep me from her now.

  She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. When she reopened them, she grasped my shirt with both hands. “Do you really think two people can love each other forever regardless of all the baggage they accumulate over the years?”

  “Yes, if they work at it and if they’re committed to letting shit go that’s not worth holding onto. And, baby, when two people love each other the way we did, there’s not fucking much worth holding onto.”

  She let go of my shirt and pressed her palms to my stomach, slowly sliding them around my side as her body leaned closer to mine. “I want to believe that. I really do, but—”

  “No,” I growled, feeling how close we were to her admitting what she truly wanted. “We’re not doing buts, Birdie.” I snaked my arm around her waist and pulled her flush against me. “Stop denying how much you want me, how much you want us.” Without giving her another second to think about this, I dropped my lips to hers and showed her how much I needed her.

  Fuck, Birdie was made for me. I loved the hell out of her mind and her soul, but when we came together like this, we were fire. I lost myself in her, every damn time.

  She didn’t resist me like she had been. Instead of resisting, she gave me a piece of herself, the piece I’d been pushing for. Instead of forcing me away, she clung to me like I was giving her life. Instead of fighting, she surrendered.

  Birdie needed me as much as I did her. It was right there in her kiss, in her touch, in her long deep sigh.

  Carey took that moment to come back, interrupting us with, “I’m heading out, but by the looks of it, you two won’t care.”

  Birdie dragged her mouth from mine to acknowledge him with a nod. I met his gaze with a lift of my chin while keeping Birdie firmly against me. If she took this opportunity to walk away, I’d lay down the fucking law—no wasn’t an answer I’d take. Not after that kiss. Turned out I didn’t have to worry. As soon as Car
ey exited the house, she picked right back up where we’d left off.

  It was like a switch had been flipped in Birdie’s mind, and after pushing me away all this time, she was now unable to keep her hands and mouth off me. As she pressed herself against me, I reached down and lifted her. Those legs of hers I could never get enough of wrapped around my body like they’d never forgotten me.

  With my lips firmly glued to hers, I walked us into Carey’s spare bedroom and deposited her on the bed. She watched as I removed my T-shirt, her hungry eyes tracking every movement I made.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured as I undid the button on my jeans. Sitting up, she traced a tattoo on my chest. Eyes to mine, she said, “You put me there?”

  I didn’t need to ask which tattoo she was talking about. It was the bird on my heart. Her.

  Running a finger down her cheek, I nodded. “I was always coming back for you, Angel. You were always the one.”

  The air turned thick with emotions as she stared up at me with a look I wanted to see every day of my life. It was love and desire and adoration. It was everything I’d wanted for the past five years. Fuck, it was all I ever needed in my life to be a happy man.

  She moved off the bed, raw need blazing from her as she undid my jeans. Practically panting, she said, “What the fuck are we doing?” before kissing me and shoving my jeans down. She didn’t give me a chance to answer that question, but I had no intention of doing that anyway. As far as I was concerned, what we were doing was what we should have been doing every day for the past five years. It was what we should never have stopped doing.

  As she undressed me, I reached for the zip on the back of her dress. She’d turned up in the shortest black dress fucking known to man. It had taken every ounce of willpower in me to stay on the couch and simply watch her when all I wanted to do was get my hands all over her.

  The dress hit the floor and she frantically ripped her bra off while I discarded her panties. I’d imagined this reunion with her a million times and had always thought I’d draw it out, rediscovering her body slowly. I hadn’t taken into account that five years without each other meant we were both desperate for this. That waiting even one second longer to get inside her felt like waiting an eternity.

  Our naked bodies came together and her hands met my skin. “There’s barely an inch of you not inked,” she said, her gaze roaming over me.

  She was right.

  I’d had only three tattoos when we broke up. The last five years had been filled with shit designed to take my mind off her; inking my skin was part of that. But now was not the time for her to discover my ink; now was the time for me to remind her of how good we were together.

  “Angel, enough talking. I need my mouth on you, and the only thing I wanna hear while I fuck you with my tongue is you telling me how fucking much you missed me.”

  Heat flared in her eyes right before her lips came to mine again in a frenzy of passion. Fuck, I wanted her like this every day. She was all hands and mouth and need. Wild and abandoned.

  “I don’t think I can wait,” she panted when she tore her mouth from mine. Reaching for my dick, she stroked it a few times and added, “I want your mouth on me, but I want you inside me more.”

  Fuck.

  Her hand on my dick caused my brain to trip. Where I’d been laser-focused on tasting her a second ago, all I wanted now was to slam my dick into her and fuck any lingering doubt from her mind. Once I was finished with Birdie tonight, she wouldn’t be able to walk straight or think straight, except to know I was her man. I would fuck that understanding into her.

  The only thing my brain did manage to not trip over was the fact we needed a condom. I wanted Birdie in my life, but that wouldn’t be because a child connected us. Although I wanted a family with her, an unplanned pregnancy wouldn’t be how we started over. The kicker in this was that I didn’t have a fucking condom on me.

  “I don’t have a condom,” I said, regretting the hell out of this fact. “Do you?”

  “Shit. No.” She frowned, cocking her head. “Seriously? You don’t carry condoms?”

  My eyes bored into hers. “I haven’t had sex in three months, Birdie.” I hadn’t even looked at another woman after I ran into Birdie at the airport three months ago.

  Her breathing slowed as she processed the meaning in those words. “Well,” she said slowly, “we don’t need a condom. I mean—”

  “I’m not fucking you without one. We’re not screwing this up this time. When we get pregnant, it’ll be because we planned it.”

  An emotion I couldn’t get a read on flashed across her face. Whatever it was, she let it go and said, “We won’t get pregnant, Winter.” She paused before adding, “I’ve got that covered.”

  Something was off here. Birdie’s body language and tone had shifted. I fought myself over slowing things down to ask her what it was versus finishing what we’d started. My selfish need to fuck her and make her mine again almost won. But I cared too fucking much about her to do that; I had to make sure she was okay first.

  When her hand wrapped around my dick again, I placed mine over it and stopped her. “What just happened?”

  Her eyes darted away briefly. When they came back to me, she curled her hand around my neck and said, “What did just happen? The last I knew you wanted to fuck me, so why aren’t you letting me touch you?”

  “Don’t do that, Angel. I know something is on your mind. Talk to me.”

  She let go of my neck and took a step back. “The only thing on my mind is sex,” she said with a spark of attitude. “You’ve made sure of that.”

  Fuck, she was shutting down on me again. And hiding something. But before I had the chance to respond, her watch buzzed with a phone call.

  She held my gaze for another moment before eyeing her watch. Tapping it, she said, “Hey, Mum, what’s up?”

  And with that, I knew we were done here for the night.

  Jennifer’s voice filled the space between us, full of urgency and concern that caused me to pay close attention. “Birdie, are you with Winter at all?”

  Birdie’s gaze shot to me again as I said, “I’m here, Jennifer.”

  “Oh, thank God. Your brother has been looking for you. He’s left you a few messages on your phone.” My phone that was in Carey’s lounge room, switched to silent for the night.

  “What’s up, Mum?” Birdie’s voice now held the same concern her mother’s did.

  Jennifer turned silent for a beat. “It’s your father, Winter.” Another pause. “He’s had a heart attack… and…. You really need to call Max.”

  I clenched my jaw, knowing deep in my gut the words she wasn’t saying. It was right there in the anguish I heard. “Tell me.” It came out a bark when I didn’t intend that. But fuck, I needed to know.

  “I’m sorry, Winter, but he passed away.”

  9

  WINTER

  My father was a hard man. Strict in the way he raised my brother and me. Uncompromising in his standards. Obstinate about his methods of achieving his parenting goals. But I’d never met a more loyal, honest and reliable person in my life. He’d shown me by example how to be the kind of man worthy of a woman’s love. And how to be a man led by my convictions.

  Dad had loved my mother with every fibre of his being. He’d done his best to never raise his voice to her and had always treated her with love and the kind of respect that helped keep them together until she’d died eight years ago. My goal in life was to love as well as my father had loved.

  The last time I’d seen him had been three months ago when I’d returned from a trip to the States. He lived in Brisbane so I’d stopped off on my way home. I’d stayed a week. He was a man of few words, which meant he hadn’t voiced his request for me to stay longer, but I’d sensed that wish from him. I didn’t extend my stay, though, because the club had a lot on and King had asked for my assistance with some of it. Now, I fucking wished I’d stayed. Now, there wouldn’t be any more chances to say all the things
that I never got around to saying.

  “Winter,” Birdie said, cutting into my thoughts.

  I reached for my jeans, yanking them on. Then my shirt. All the while ignoring Birdie. The only thing I could focus on was getting to Dad.

  Her hand curled around my wrist. “Winter, slow down and—”

  “I need to call Max.”

  I need to get to Dad.

  She didn’t let go of me. “I know, but—”

  I pulled out of her hold and looked at her. “I don’t have time to stand here discussing this, Birdie.” I didn’t miss her blink as the ice in my tone hit her. I didn’t mean to be so cold, but my father just fucking died; I had nothing else to give her.

  Exiting the bedroom, I left her to make the call. My brain processed my next steps, leaving behind everything that had happened tonight. Not that I wanted to move on from that so fast, but I had to focus on plans to get to Brisbane. It was bad timing for the club, but King always put family first, so there wouldn’t be any issues with me taking some time out.

  “Winter,” Max said when he answered my call. “You heard?”

  Fuck, he really is dead.

  No more Friday night phone calls from him telling me to hurry up and find a woman to settle down with.

  “Yeah. I’m gonna leave tonight and come up.” Max lived in Brisbane with his wife and their sons. “Can I crash at your place?”

  No more sitting in his tinny, throwing a line in, listening to him bang on about the love of a good woman being all a man needs in his life.

  “Don’t leave tonight. Wait until the morning.”

  I ignored what he said. “Max, can I stay with you or not?”

  No more footy in front of the TV with him giving me hell over not supporting the Broncos anymore.

  “Of course you can stay here, but I really don’t think you should be on the road—”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He knew me better than to argue over shit like this. “How are the kids taking it?”