She Loves Me

by Foster, Melissa

  Mike stepped between them, facing Piper. “You okay, boss?”

  “Fine,” she said, her eyes never leaving Marshall’s.

  Mike faced Marshall, and Piper knew he was sending his own silent message of protectiveness before finally walking away. She didn’t need anyone’s protection, but she was proud to have earned it just the same.

  “Marshall.” His name came out like an accusation.

  “Saw your truck. Dalton Contracting? Congratulations.” His eyes swept over the building. “What is this place?”

  “Commercial property going on the market when I’m done with it. Stop the small talk. Why are you here?”

  He took a step forward.

  “That’s far enough,” she said sharply. She didn’t know what he was thinking or what he might do. In fact, she realized she didn’t know him at all. After all he’d done to his family, she wondered if she ever had.

  The surprise in his eyes quickly dimmed with something akin to regret. “I thought we could talk.”

  “I’m not the person you should be talking with.”

  “Yeah, well, I was hoping you could help me with that.”

  She folded her arms and said, “Then you can take that hope with you when you walk off this job site.”

  “Come on, Piper. Obviously you and Harley have something going on. Can’t you talk to him for me?”

  “What Harley and I have is none of your business, especially after the way you’ve treated him. Harley has been here to help your family through more than any family should ever have to endure, and he’s done it alone. I have absolutely nothing to say to you, and if you think I’ll try to sway Harley one way or the other, you’re wrong.” A thread of guilt wound through her. This might be her only chance to help Harley and his family by helping Marshall see the error of his ways. But that would be digging him out of his hole, doing exactly what Harley didn’t want and what Marshall didn’t need. So she squared her shoulders and said, “This is your mess, Marshall. A good man would do whatever it takes to clean it up. Harley’s not just a good man. He’s the best man I know. Unfortunately, right now I can’t say the same about you.”

  She turned around and found eight good, strong men standing shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed, all eyes on Marshall. Her crew, her family, had her back, causing a freaking lump to lodge in her throat.

  “You’re wrong about me, Piper,” Marshall called after her.

  She gritted her teeth, hands flexing, heart thundering, and glanced over her shoulder. “Prove it.”

  She strode around the corner of the building and walked inside, unwanted tears vying for release—for the support of her crew and for the hope that Marshall might try to prove her wrong.

  The men followed her inside, talking loudly on their way to the kitchen. Piper kept her back to them, willing her tears to remain at bay. She heard Kase guiding them away from her and breaking up a couple of guys who must have been horsing around, giving her time to pull herself together.

  “A’right, let’s get back to work,” Kase said loudly in the other room.

  A few minutes later, the sounds of men working brought relief, and Piper felt a comforting hand on her back.

  “You okay, boss?”

  She inhaled deeply and faced Kase. “Yeah. Thanks for rallying the troops.”

  “I didn’t do it. Mike did. We’ve always got your back.”

  Mike, even after I reamed him. “I appreciate that.”

  “Who was that guy?”

  “Harley’s brother. He hasn’t been around for a while . . . and I might have gone out with him in high school.”

  Kase’s lips tipped up at the corners, and he said, “Guess that explains it. You handled him well. Harley should be proud.”

  “Thanks. I need to make a call.”

  “Take all the time you need. I’ve got this.”

  She headed outside and walked away from the building to call Harley.

  He answered on the first ring. “Hey, Trig. What’s up?”

  “Marshall was just here.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Harley growled. “What’d he say?”

  “He wanted me to talk to you for him, but I told him I wouldn’t and that he had to clean up his own mess. He may be heading your way.”

  He ground out a curse. “Did he get into anything with you? If he said or did anything nasty, I’m going to kill him.”

  “First, that’s inappropriately hot. Second, I didn’t give him the chance, and all my guys were behind me.”

  “Good. Sorry you had to deal with that, babe.”

  “It’s fine. At least you know he’s still around.”

  Harley exhaled loudly. “Right. I need to call my mom and Dee, let them know he’s still in town.”

  “Okay. Hey, Harley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Whatever does or doesn’t happen between you two, I’m here. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

  He was quiet for a beat, and she knew him so well, even in the silence she heard his gratitude.

  “I love you, babe,” he finally said. “Meet me at my place after work?”

  “Sure, but you’ll see me for dinner. After the day I’ve had, I need a double order of Dutch’s wings, a cold beer, and about a hundred kisses from the hottest bar owner in Sweetwater.”

  “My lips are waiting.”

  “Hey, man, I think that glass is clean,” Jasper said, breaking through Harley’s thoughts.

  Harley looked down at the glass in his hands. He hadn’t even realized he was still holding it. The bar was closed, and they were getting ready to leave for the night when Harley had decided to have one drink to calm his nerves. He’d spent the evening in fluctuating states of anxious contempt and hostility. Marshall hadn’t shown up, and he hadn’t gone to see their mother or sister, either, which Harley was glad about. The only bright light of his evening had been when Piper had come by for dinner. She’d told him what had happened with Marshall, though neither one of them knew how he’d found her on the job site.

  “You’ve been drying that thing for eight minutes,” Jasper pointed out. “Does that mean you’re relieved or angry that your brother didn’t show up?”

  Harley put the glass away and said, “I don’t really give a shit either way.” He had no idea if that was true or not. That was how jumbled his thoughts were. All he knew for sure was that he didn’t want Marshall anywhere near Piper.

  “I’m going to call that relieved,” Jasper said as he walked around the bar. “Want me to lock up on the way out?”

  “No. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “All right, man. Try to relax tonight.”

  After Jasper left, Harley let out a long breath. What a fucked-up day. He’d held his breath, readying for a fight every time the damn door opened. He’d spoken to his mother around nine o’clock, and she’d sounded upset that Marshall hadn’t come by to see any of them. When he’d called Delaney, she’d sounded disappointed, too. Their conversations had tweaked his guilt, but their willingness to look past everything Marshall had done had just pushed his need to protect them into hyperdrive. He went into his office to shut down his computer, and his gaze fell to the picture of his parents on the corner of the desk. He picked it up and sat down, wondering what his father would have done the other night when Marshall had shown up.

  A few months after Marshall had quit college and lost touch, Harley had asked his father if he should go after him. His father had said, Marshall doesn’t need us to find him. He’s on a solo journey to find himself. At the time, Harley had thought leaving them in the dark was the most selfish thing his brother could do. But he’d been wrong. The most selfish thing wasn’t his leaving. It was that he’d stayed away for so many years.

  Harley ran his fingers over the glass covering the picture, remembering what his father had said the only other time Harley had brought up Marshall. It was when his father had gotten sick, and Harley had come home to take over Dutch’s. Harley had spent weeks trying to find
Marshall, calling the last place he’d worked, tracking down people he’d worked with, following bread crumbs until he’d finally heard back from Marshall. He’d sounded drugged out, and it had disgusted Harley, but he’d told him that their father was on death’s door, and he should get his ass home. When their father’s health had taken a dismal turn, Harley had apologized to his father for not being able to bring Marshall back to say goodbye. He’d never forget the regret in his father’s eyes as he’d said, He’s too lost to be found.

  Now anger flared inside Harley, burning in his chest. You’ve got to be a fucking mess for your own father to give up on you. “Fuck it.”

  He put the frame on the desk and shut down his computer, in a worse mood than he’d been in all night. Fucking Marshall. He pulled out his keys on the way out of his office, nearly barreling into his brother.

  “What the f—”

  “We need to talk,” Marshall said, holding Harley’s stare.

  He held a leather jacket over his right shoulder, and Harley had the odd thought that the damn thing had to be easier to carry than the chip he’d been lugging around forever because of his brother. That thought fueled his rage. “Like hell we do. Stay the fuck away from Piper.”

  “Harley—”

  Harley dropped his keys on a table as he closed the gap between them, getting angrier by the second at the thought of him with Piper. He shoved Marshall back with one hand to the chest, seething. “I don’t live life on your terms, little brother. I spent weeks trying to track you down to let you know our only sister had cancer. Do you have any idea how lucky you are that the surgery cleared her? That we didn’t lose her?” Harley was hollering, out of control. There was no stopping the rage exploding inside him. “She could have died without ever seeing you again. Do you know how hard that would have been for her? Do you have any concept of the pain you’ve caused everyone in this family?”

  Marshall gritted his teeth and threw his jacket on the floor, locking a cold stare on Harley. Harley shoved him again. Marshall stumbled back, knocking over a chair. He found his footing and came at Harley swinging. Harley dodged a punch, catching Marshall in the jaw. Marshall flew back and Harley grabbed him by the shirt, hauling him upright.

  “I don’t know why I ever expected anything from you.” Harley’s tone was venomous, his fight unyielding as he let another punch fly.

  Marshall blocked his punch and threw one to Harley’s gut. Harley doubled over, and Marshall’s fist connected with his cheek, sending him stumbling sideways. Adrenaline surged inside him. He ran toward Marshall at full speed, taking them both down to the floor, sending chairs scattering as they competed for dominance. They wrestled, knocking into chairs and tables, fists flying, getting out years of anger.

  Marshall wrenched out of Harley’s grip and punched him in the ribs. “Same old fucking holier-than-thou Harley!”

  “You should’ve been there for Delaney,” Harley seethed.

  They were both on their knees, breathing hard, their bodies swaying. Harley threw another punch, connecting with Marshall’s eye. Marshall keeled sideways, and Harley made his move, putting him in a headlock. Harley’s muscles strained against his brother’s efforts as he wrestled him down to the floor, Marshall’s back to his chest.

  Harley tightened the headlock and growled, “You should’ve been there for Mom and Dad.”

  “Fuck you.” Marshall clawed at Harley’s arms.

  Harley wrapped one leg around Marshall’s from behind, trapping them as his brother fought futilely, trying to wrench free.

  “Your nieces don’t even know you,” Harley ground out through gritted teeth. “You’ll never change, and I’m not letting you hurt them ever again.”

  “Always the fucking hero,” Marshall accused.

  “I never wanted to be a hero, you asshole. I’ve spent my life cleaning up your messes, trying to minimize the damage you left behind. How many times did I cover for your lame ass? Drive a fucking hour and a half from the city to pick up your drunk ass? I finished the boat for Piper because you were too busy screwing up to do it yourself. I should have ratted you out.” A painful realization slammed into him. He’d enabled Marshall’s behavior as much as his parents had. Holy shit.

  Marshall pushed back against Harley’s chest. “You loved being the hero.”

  “Wrong. I loved you, and that was a big mistake.”

  Marshall scoffed, thrashing from side to side, trying to break free. “You loved making that fucking boat for her.”

  “Don’t you ever talk about Piper.” He tightened his arm around Marshall’s neck. “You were never good enough for her.”

  Marshall clawed at Harley’s forearm, throwing himself forward and back, making strangled noises, but Harley was blinded with fury, his brother’s sounds drowned out by the blood thundering in his ears. Marshall’s arm stretched shakily out to his side, and his index finger straightened. His second finger followed, creating a trembling peace sign, kicking Harley’s brain into firing again as memories rolled in and he recognized the signal for surrender they’d used as kids. Marshall’s third finger rose, his hand shaking so hard, his fingers blurred together. Harley released him, backing away in a state of panic. Marshall bent forward, coughing and gasping for air.

  Harley ground out, “Fuck.”

  “I coulda had you.” Marshall was bent over, his back to Harley, both palms flat on the floor. His head hung between his shoulders, his body heaving as he noisily dragged air into his lungs.

  “Asshole.” Harley coughed out a laugh. “You and what army?”

  “I didn’t come here for this shit.”

  Harley used his heels to push back against the wall and tipped his face up. “Why are you here, Marshall?”

  Marshall turned haunted eyes in Harley’s direction. His face was a mask of pain. He held up his left hand, showing Harley a gold wedding band. “To make sure my wife’s death wasn’t for nothing.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  MARSHALL HAD GOTTEN married and had never told them? His wife had died? Harley couldn’t process the information. He didn’t even know where to begin. The ghosts in his brother’s eyes rose to the surface. Harley knew about the hope-sucking anguish of grief from losing their father, but he couldn’t imagine the magnitude of despair if something ever happened to Piper. The thought of his brother actually loving a woman enough to marry her, and then losing her, brought Harley’s walls crashing down. “You’re married?”

  “Widowed.”

  Marshall’s eye was already turning purple from their fight, but Harley knew that pain was nothing compared to what his brother had already endured. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  Marshall dragged himself over to the wall beside Harley. “After what I just told you, that’s the part you zeroed in on? You’re losing your hero touch, bro.”

  He swallowed hard, trying to assemble his fractured thoughts. “I’m beyond sorry for your loss. I’m just trying to process everything. It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Tell me about it.” Marshall sighed. “Losing Annie fucked me up. Not that I wasn’t already messed up, but we were good for a while. Better than good.”

  Despite everything that had gone down between them, Harley was glad to hear that his brother had been good for a while. “Where have you been all this time? When did you meet her? Annie? What happened?”

  “Life, man. Life happened. After I left school, I headed out to California with a buddy of mine and worked as a firefighter. With training and the right connections, we made it to a hotshot crew.” Hotshots were elite teams of wildland firefighters. They were fearless, highly skilled hand crews trained to battle all phases of the most serious wildland fires in the nation.

  “That’s impressive. Dangerous, but you always wanted to be a smoke jumper.”

  “Yeah, I blew that when I didn’t finish school. But I loved my job. It was good for me, you know? No chance to get bored, worked with a great group of guys. That’s when I met Annie. I was coming out of a
bar with my buddies and she was just standing there looking up at the stars, like an angel who had been dropped in my path. She was beautiful to me, maybe not so much to the other guys. She had bright red, almost orange hair, cut super short, and she had acne scars and other scars. The kind of scars most people turn away from, brought on by a rough life and mean hands. Not mine, though. Never mine.” Marshall looked down at his hands, tears glistening in his eyes. “From the moment she looked at me, I felt sparks, man. I’m talking where-have-you-been-all-my-life sparks. I’ll never forget the way she looked me up and down, like she’d seen far better men, and I’m sure she had, but it just made me want to be better than them. The first thing she ever said to me was, ‘If you were a bird and could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?’ My buddies walked away at that point. But I couldn’t have walked away if I’d wanted to. I had only one answer. I said, ‘I’d follow you,’ and she said, ‘Cool. Let’s go.’” Marshall wiped a tear from his cheek. “She was reckless and crazy and so fucking smart I could barely keep up with her thought processes.”

  “She sounds incredible,” Harley said, clearing his choked-up throat. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her.”

  “We’d planned to come here. She was twenty when we met. I was twenty-four. We were wild. Too wild, and reckless, drinking, smoking, living what we thought was the good life. When things got too heavy, we partied harder.”

  Harley silently prayed his brother hadn’t been the cause of her death, because that was a torment he didn’t think anyone could get past.

  “After a while she realized she’d missed a few periods, and when we found out she was four months pregnant we stopped all that shit.” Marshall made a fist and covered it with his other hand. “We were going to do everything right, be responsible parents. We both got life insurance, got clean, and figured when the baby was born we’d come back here and try to start over. We thought the baby would be a way to break the ice, you know? Who can turn away an adorable baby girl? We had big plans. Annie had run away when she was fourteen. We were going to head to Colorado with the baby and find her family after we were settled back here and things were good with you guys.” He pressed his lips together, his eyes glassy again. “Life was good, you know? I mean, Annie’s moods were up and down, but we figured that was hormones. But then our little girl . . .” He held his hands out, palms up, and tears spilled from his eyes, pulling tears from Harley’s. “She was . . .” He gritted his teeth, cleared his throat. “Destiny, that was her name. She was stillborn.”