FRACTURED HONOR

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FRACTURED HONOR Page 7

by Kaylea Cross


  This was where she was meant to be. The place where she wanted to raise a family someday. Her adorable cottage was a little over a half-mile from her clinic, just three streets over from her brother’s place, and she had a partial view of the ocean through the tall cedars and Douglas firs in the backyard.

  Sierra was hyperaware of Beckett behind her now as she entered her mudroom and walked through to the kitchen. With over six feet of powerful, authoritative male presence in here with her, it suddenly seemed a lot smaller.

  He’d been over for dinner twice since she’d moved in, but always with other people around. Never just the two of them. This felt intimate, even though she told herself she was being ridiculous. “Okay with you if we eat on the couches?” she asked as she set her purse down on a chair at the table.

  He was still standing in the doorway, as though uncomfortable. She wanted to change that, make this as relaxed as possible. She wanted him to be at home here. At home with her, the way he used to be.

  “Sure,” he said, and followed her in, his gaze snagging on the glass fishing floats in the bowl on the coffee table as he sank onto the couch. “Is that the one we found that day?”

  “Yes.” Glass artists were common along this part of the coast, and floats were cheap and popular. Every year Crimson Point staged a treasure hunt of sorts from Memorial Day to New Years. Townspeople would hide handcrafted glass floats made by local artisans along a five-mile stretch of beach for people to find. The cobalt-and-aqua swirled glass ball was one of her most treasured possessions because it reminded her of him.

  “Seems like such a long time ago now.”

  “Almost four years.” Right after she’d moved home. That day was still crystal clear in her memory.

  She, Beckett and Noah had found hers while walking down to the beach for a campfire the last time Beckett had come home for leave just prior to his divorce. He had spotted a glimpse of deep blue nestled high up in the sandy bank above the path they were on. She’d never found one before, so he had hoisted her up on his strong shoulders, holding her steady while she dug it out and crowed in triumph, holding it over her head as he grinned up at her.

  That was the day she’d gone from crushing on Beckett to something far more painful.

  She’d studied him in the flickering light of their bonfire on the beach that evening. It had been so good to have him home again. To see him smile and hear his deep laughter, admire the rugged, masculine beauty that took her breath away.

  Beckett’s gaze now strayed to her mantel, where some of her photographs were displayed. Surprise flickered across his face when he saw the one she’d taken of them and Noah at the bonfire that night. She’d flipped her camera around and taken a selfie of sorts, all three of them grinning up at the lens with their faces bathed in the warm glow of the fire.

  “I forgot you took that one,” he said.

  It was her favorite picture of all, better than any candid shot or landscape she’d ever captured. “A shutterbug never goes to the beach without her camera.”

  “What kind of pizza did you get?” he asked, jarring her out of her reverie.

  God, had she been staring? “Meat lovers and a supreme. Here,” she said, handing him a plate and opening the meat lovers box for him. It was his favorite.

  “So what did you want to tell me about Molly and Carter?” he asked as he took his plate from her.

  “I’m really worried about her.”

  “Yeah, she’s got a lot to deal with right now.”

  “No.” He’d misunderstood her. “When I met her at the hospital for lunch she started to tell me a bit more about Carter. She’s been hiding a lot of it, pretending she’s handling everything just fine. He’s deteriorating at a far more rapid pace than any of us realized.”

  Beckett expelled a breath. “I know.”

  He thought he knew. “She’s afraid of him, Beckett.”

  “Yeah. Shit.” He set his plate on his lap, a frown creasing his brow. “I feel bad for leaving her alone, but if I’d stayed it would’ve set Carter off.”

  “I still don’t know him very well. Not compared to you and Jase. Is he a threat to her?”

  He thought about it for a second. “I would have said no even as little as a few weeks ago, but the way things are going, I can’t be sure about that.”

  Not the answer she’d been hoping for. Anxiety swirled in her belly. “God. What can we do?”

  “Distance ourselves from him, and be there for her. Nobody can help him but himself. Whether Molly sees that yet, I’m not sure.”

  “I’m not sure either.” Back in her twenties Sierra had been intimidated by the age and maturity gap between her and Beckett, as well as his brooding intensity.

  Not anymore.

  She liked what she’d seen in terms of how he’d handled the situation with Molly today. That he had come over to talk to her face-to-face, and offer his help. It was clear he cared about her and had more layers to him than he wanted anyone to know about. Sierra had loved the glimpse beneath his impenetrable armor.

  She withheld a sigh, wanting things to change between them. No matter what her logical side said, the hopeful romantic in her wanted him to be hers, and stubbornly refused to believe that he would remain emotionally closed-off forever. It insisted that in time, once he trusted her, he would open up.

  That same thought had led to utter misery in her previous relationships.

  “Though she hinted at lunch that they might not make it,” she added, glad he was oblivious to her thoughts. Being rejected or laughed at by him would crush her.

  “Not a surprise.” He took a bite of pizza.

  He said it so bluntly, almost as if Molly and Carter separating after seven years of marriage was a foregone conclusion. Of course he’d been through his own divorce, so that might explain his jaded outlook. She cocked her head, curious. “Did you know your relationship was over before you guys separated?” He’d never talked about it.

  His expression closed up as he swallowed his bite. “Yeah. For the last couple years, I guess.”

  Wow, that was a long time to stay with someone when things were that rough. Although he had been gone a lot. “What happened? Noah never told me and I always wanted to ask you.” She’d only met his ex once, when Beckett had brought her here for a visit after their wedding back in North Carolina. She had seemed nice enough, though Sierra had done her best to avoid them both, her newly budded feelings toward him making her too raw inside.

  He shrugged. “We didn’t get along. Things were okay when I was gone, but as soon as I got home from a deployment, the problems would start. Should never have gotten married in the first place.”

  Sierra nodded. The marriage had definitely changed him. Made him jaded. More remote. “Her loss.”

  He gave her a strange look. “Her family and friends think it’s the other way around.”

  “Well they don’t know you like I do. So it’s definitely her loss.”

  Something like surprise flared in his dark eyes.

  “Anyway, if things get worse for Molly and Carter and they do split up, I don’t see either of them staying here. Molly will probably go home to North Carolina. I’m not sure about Carter.”

  “He’s got family back in Kansas.” He frowned again. “Did Molly say anything about his current prognosis?”

  “No, just that the brain injury is the root cause of it all, even though there’s no proof, and the mix of meds they’ve got him on leaves him a mess.”

  He grunted. “And the drinking sure as hell doesn’t help.”

  “The drinking?”

  “Molly didn’t tell you?”

  “No.” Why hadn’t she? “Just that he’s all over the place emotionally, so she never knows what she’s going to get from him. It’s hard on her, whether she admits it or not.”

  “I didn’t realize how bad things were between them.”

  “If Molly’s even talking about the possibility of leaving him, then it’s bad.”

&
nbsp; “True,” he agreed.

  The whole situation was terrible. “I wish there was something we could do.”

  “None of us can help Carter at this point. That’s all up to him.” He focused on her, the impact of that deep brown gaze setting off a sizzle of heat in her belly. His quiet intensity drew her with a power she wasn’t strong enough to resist.

  Against her will, her gaze dipped to his mouth. His features were harsh, even foreboding, but his mouth looked so soft. She’d imagined those full lips on hers so many times, wondered if his quiet intensity would translate to the bedroom.

  She was willing to bet it did.

  The thought made her heart skip and her blood race, imagining what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that intensity in bed. To feel that hard, powerful build against her, on top of her. His strong, capable hands holding her in place as he caressed and licked every sensitive spot on her body, then driving into her with urgency. Something told her Beckett would be unlike any other lover she’d had.

  He wouldn’t be emotionally closed-off then.

  She forced her gaze back to his, hoped he hadn’t noticed the way she’d been staring at his mouth.

  He wiped his hands on his napkin. “If she tells you anything else important, let me know. For now I’m gonna back away and give the situation some time to cool off. But if something goes down, I’ll step in.”

  That made her feel a little better. Beckett could and would handle anything that came up. She trusted him implicitly in that, because he was dependable above all else. “Thank you. I’ll definitely let you know.”

  He picked up his plate and stood, taking her by surprise. “Thanks for the pizza, but I gotta go. Got some work to catch up on.”

  “Oh. Sure.” She took the plate from him, followed him to the door, wishing she had a reason to make him stay.

  He opened her front door, paused to look back at her. “See ya.”

  “See ya.”

  He closed the door after himself. She locked it, frowning. For a man who had spent most of his adult life performing special operations missions as a Green Beret officer, something about his abrupt exit seemed an awful lot like a retreat.

  Chapter Seven

  Driving home from a jobsite the next afternoon, Beckett couldn’t get his mind off Sierra. His original plan upon moving back home had been to avoid her whenever possible, but now he realized how laughably futile that effort was.

  This town was way too damn small for that. And not thinking about her was proving just as impossible as avoiding her. Especially when it came to thinking about getting her naked and under him.

  He blocked the thought before it could fully form again, because he didn’t have time for that kind of distraction. He’d had a productive day playing catch up at work today, at least. He’d even managed to smooth things over with the pissed-off client after assuring him that Carter was no longer working for the company. The job was going ahead as planned.

  Taking Jase’s suggestion, he had called up Aidan MacIntyre earlier and left a message saying he had a job offer for him. Whether or not the Scot would be interested was anyone’s guess, but Beckett hoped he would at least consider it. He needed someone else at the helm who he could trust.

  Partway down Front Street, his gaze snagged on a familiar little figure standing on the eastern sidewalk up ahead, across from the waterfront.

  “What the hell is she doing?” He slowed as he approached Ella, pulling to the side of the road to check on her.

  Crimson Point was a safe place, and it was four-thirty in the afternoon and broad daylight here on the main street, but it bothered him that she was out here all alone. From what he’d seen, Tiana was a responsible, protective and loving mother. Beckett was ninety-nine percent sure she had no idea her daughter was out here alone. He intended to find out what was going on.

  Ella appeared to be putting up some kind of flyer. She held a thin stack in her hand, stapling one to the telephone pole in front of her. She glanced up as his truck stopped at the curb beside her, and he was glad to see the wary expression on her face until she recognized him.

  He rolled down the passenger window, leaned over the console to talk to her. The cry of gulls grew louder, the sound of the distant surf muted in the background. “Hey, Ella. What are you doing?”

  “Putting up flyers,” she answered, her face contorting with effort as she pushed another staple into the corner of the paper.

  “Does your mom know you’re out here?”

  She stopped what she was doing, hesitated a moment before answering. “No.” Her gaze swung to him, guilt clear on her face.

  He bit back a sigh. She was way too young to be roaming around without adult supervision, even here. He would let her finish up, then take her home and talk to her about this on the way. And he was going to make her call her mom, too.

  Glancing up the street, he caught the flashes of white on other poles where she had already stapled up more of them. “Is this part of your campaign?”

  She put in another staple. “Yes. I called the pound today. Walter’s still there, and that means he only has until tomorrow morning. If nobody adopts him by then, they’ll put him to sleep.” She lowered the stapler and stared at the sidewalk, biting her lip.

  “Oh.” Great answer, Hollister. You have such a way with words. And kids. “Can I see one of those?”

  She looked up and stepped over to hand him a sheet through the passenger window.

  Aw, man. Beckett was a hardened soldier who had served in his fair share of hellholes and survived many firefights, but even his battle-weary heart squeezed when he saw the flyer she’d made. A photocopy of something she’d drawn in what looked like colored pencil.

  SAVE WALTER! it read at the top in bright red block letters. Beneath it was a hand-done drawing of a brown and white dog with short legs, long ears, tongue sticking out of its mouth, and the droopiest, saddest-looking eyes Beckett had ever seen on an animal. Below that, she’d listed Walter’s redeeming attributes.

  Friendly. Sweet. Good boy. Deserves a chance. She’d underlined that last bit, followed by the number and address of the pound.

  Aww, hell. This kid had such a soft heart, he almost felt sorry for her. His had been soft like that once too, a lifetime ago, before reality had brought his childhood to a crashing, jarring halt the day his mother died. In the years since, he’d seen firsthand how ugly and unfair the world could be.

  He switched his focus back to Ella, who was watching him anxiously, her little forehead wrinkled with worry. “How many of these have you put up so far?”

  “Eleven. The school librarian printed off thirty for me, so I’ve got…” She screwed up her nose in concentration for a moment. “A lot more to go.” She glanced up and down the street, her expression becoming distressed. “I might run out of telephone poles.”

  Okay, seriously, this kid. “I’ll help you,” he heard himself say.

  Her face brightened. “You will?”

  “Yes.” Then he was taking her home where she belonged.

  He shut off the engine, undid his seatbelt and climbed out of the cab. She put the flyer where she wanted it, and he dutifully stapled it in place for her.

  But at their third telephone pole, a gust of cold wind passed through the buildings. Ella hunched into herself and shivered. “Where’s your coat?” he asked her.

  “I didn’t bring one. I came here straight from school because I have to be done and back home for dinner at six. I have to get them all up—I can’t let Walter down. I’m his only chance.”

  Hell. He looked down at the drawing of poor Walter, then back at Ella. “Why does Walter mean so much to you?”

  A touch of anger sparked in her blue eyes, surprising him. “Because he’s a good dog and the family who owned him are terrible people for dumping him just because he’s old.” She was quiet a moment, lowered her gaze. “My dad dumped my mom and I when I was little, and it doesn’t feel good to not be wanted. It’s not right.�
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  Oh, fuck. No eight-year-old should ever feel that way. “No, it’s not right.” And he hated that Ella felt that her father had abandoned her.

  After weighing his options, he glanced at his watch. The pound closed at five-thirty. They had time. “Come on, let’s go see Walter.”

  Her big blue eyes widened in astonishment. “Really?”

  “Yeah. But first I need you to call your mom to tell her where you are and ask if it’s okay.” He was a single guy without any kids, and even though pretty much all the locals here knew him, he wasn’t putting her in his truck without Tiana’s permission. “Do you know her number?”

  “Yes.” She took the cell phone he offered, dialed her mom and blurted out everything in a single sentence without any breaks between words. Then she was quiet a second. “I will. Bye.” She beamed up at him as she handed the phone over. “She said okay but she wants to talk to you.”

  Good. “Tiana, it’s Beckett.”

  “Beckett, oh my God, I’m so sorry about this. She’s supposed to be at after-school care right now,” she said, sounding exasperated.

  “That’s what I figured.” Ella was looking everywhere but at him, her expression full of false innocence. “She’s a determined little thing.”

  “Ugh, I know. She comes by it honestly, but she knows she can’t be running around unsupervised, no matter what the reason. I’ll give her a stern talking to when I get home tonight, I assure you. And thank you so much for stepping in, I really appreciate it.”

  Okay, now he felt better. “No problem. I’ll drop her off at home as soon as we’re done.” He ended the call and motioned to Ella, who was now looking at him out of the corner of her eye. No doubt trying to gauge whether she was in trouble or not. “All right. Let’s go. But from now on you don’t wander around by yourself after school. Deal?”

  She grinned. “Deal.”

  At the shelter she hopped out of his truck before he could come around to help her out, and raced for the front door, pausing at the last moment to hold it for him and avoid it slamming in his face. The smell of animals hit him at once, along with anxious barks and yips coming from the kennels in the back.

 

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