Confessions

by Cynthia Eden

Scarlett pushed up onto her elbows. “Grant?”

  His fingers flattened against her. “This will change us.”

  She needed him. She didn’t want to think or talk about the future. Scarlett only wanted to feel.

  “I won’t be able to go back again. Neither will you.”

  She licked her lips and tasted him.

  Desire had tightened his face. Made his eyes burn with passion. Those eyes were raking over her body, lingering on her breasts. “So beautiful...”

  She thought he was perfect. Her hand lifted to trace the scar near his heart. When he slid back, she was the one to rise up on her knees. She put her mouth against that scar and tenderly kissed the mark. Scarlett wished that she could wipe away all his pain.

  “Scarlett...you’re taking a dangerous path...”

  She touched another scar, then one lower, edging around his ribs. He slid back even more and let her lean over him. Her fingers whispered over every wound, and then her lips followed. Feathering lightly over the scars that marked him. Acknowledging the battles that had changed him.

  Another scar, about two inches long, ran above the top of his jeans. Her hair brushed over his chest as she bent and pressed her lips to that line.

  “Scarlett...”

  There was something different about her name then. She looked up and saw Grant’s control shatter right before her eyes. There was no other word for it but shatter.

  In a flash, she was on her back in that bed. Her clothes were gone. His, too. He kept one hand on her thigh even as he took care of their protection.

  He continued touching her, as if he was afraid that she might try to escape. But she wouldn’t have left. There was no way that she could have. She needed him too desperately.

  He settled between her thighs. His fingers parted her and she felt him push inside her core.

  They’d been together before. Special, sensual meetings the summer she’d graduated high school—before that last date by the lake. He’d been her first. He’d taught her so much about pleasure. She remembered every lesson.

  He thrust into her.

  Their eyes held.

  “Grant...”

  He withdrew. Thrust again. The rhythm wasn’t slow. The need had crested too fast for them. Everything was so intense—so wild. Her legs rose around him. She held him tightly. Her nails dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built and built.

  There was no awkwardness. No hesitations.

  Their bodies met again and again.

  He kissed her, caressed her. Drove her to the very edge of desire—

  And then the release hit her. So strong and consuming that she could only gasp his name.

  She remembered pleasure.

  She hadn’t remembered getting lost in him.

  But she felt lost then. Because the world spun away and all she could do was hold on to Grant as her body trembled and the waves of release rolled through her again and again. And Grant was with her, growling out her name. Holding her just as fiercely, as the pleasure lashed him, as well.

  Her gasping breaths filled the air. Her drumming heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears. And Grant...

  He carefully lifted his body up and braced his weight so he didn’t crush her into the mattress. Grant gazed down at her. “The memories were wrong. It wasn’t like it was back then.”

  Back then...when she’d been so unsure, caught up in her first love.

  This isn’t about love. This time is about need. A desire too long unchecked.

  “It’s not like that now.” His lips brushed hers. “It’s even better.”

  And the pleasure was still pulsating through her. This...this was more than she’d expected, and in that moment, her emotions seemed too raw and exposed.

  He was staring into her eyes. What did he see? What was she revealing?

  “I hope you know,” he told her, his voice a sensual rumble, “you and I are just getting started.”

  * * *

  SHE WAS ASLEEP.

  Grant turned his head and gazed at Scarlett. The moonlight spilled through her window, illuminating the delicate curves of her face. She was naked, covered only by the thin sheet.

  His arm was beneath her head. She’d fallen asleep with him. She’d always been too trusting.

  Part of him wanted to stay there with her. He’d needed her for so long. Her sweet vanilla scent was on him, and he’d done his best to leave his mark on her.

  He’d tried to explain to Scarlett how he felt, but in the heat of the moment, he wasn’t sure she’d fully understood what was happening.

  She would.

  Slowly, carefully, he eased from the bed. She never stirred. He stood there a moment, gazing down at her and remembering the past. But the past was over.

  She wasn’t the same person.

  Neither was he.

  He pulled on his clothes. Spared her one last glance, then he left, slipping away down her fire escape and vanishing into the night.

  Chapter Five

  Grant found Sullivan at his brother’s usual hangout, a run-down bar on the edge of town. One with darkened windows and an exterior that appeared to be a day away from falling down.

  He was in the back of the joint, a whiskey in front of him as he slouched in the booth. When Grant approached, Sullivan lifted a brow.

  “I heard that your lady appears to be innocent.” He raised his drink. Saluted. “Guess that has you feeling mighty fine right about now.”

  Grant would have been feeling better if he’d still been in bed with Scarlett. But he had business to take care of.

  Family...you think you can trust them. Then you learn they’ve been lying to you for years. “You knew,” he said flatly as he glowered at his brother.

  Sullivan downed his whiskey. “That she hadn’t killed that stuffed shirt Eric? Well, yeah, okay, so I figured she probably hadn’t gone after him with the knife. The two of you together like that—it caught me off guard and I shot off at the mouth.” He rolled his shoulders. “I mean...that knife attack hardly seems her style—”

  Grant’s fist hit the table. “The baby.”

  Sullivan slowly lowered the empty glass.

  “You were still at home when I left.” Sullivan had joined the marines a good year and a half after that. “You were here. You knew what was happening, didn’t you?” Sullivan had always been the brother who knew everything because he seemed to keep tabs on everyone. “Before I left,” Grant continued, his voice roughening, “I asked you to look out for her.”

  “That you did.” No emotion entered Sullivan’s voice.

  “You didn’t tell me about the baby!”

  Sullivan stared down at his empty glass. “What do you want to hear me say? That I’m sorry? I made a judgment call. You were fighting for your life over there. You needed to focus on the mission.”

  “And she needed me.”

  Sullivan still wasn’t looking at him. “Scarlett came to the ranch as soon as she found out she was pregnant. I heard her talking to Mom and Dad. She told them about the baby. She wanted them to know their grandchild.”

  Those words gutted him. They knew, too...they knew?

  “They didn’t have the chance to tell you. Scarlett lost the baby that very night.”

  There was something about Sullivan’s voice...a rough edge...and Grant knew. His eyes widened. “You were there.”

  Sullivan shrugged. “You asked me to watch her. She’d just finished waiting tables at that old restaurant, The Mill, when it—it happened...”

  Grant remembered that place. Scarlett had been working there to earn extra money for college. He’d gone in a few times, always enjoying the way her face lit up when she saw him.

  That doesn’t happen any longer. When she looks at me now, she�
��s so guarded.

  And he always caught the shadow of pain in her eyes.

  “I didn’t think she should be alone at the hospital. Didn’t think you’d want her alone.” Sullivan’s fingers tapped on the tabletop. “So, yeah, I was there.” He glanced up and Grant’s body stiffened when he saw the anger glinting in his brother’s eyes. “What do you want to hear now? That she cried? She did. That she begged the doctor, that she told him again and again how much she loved the baby? She did. And you know what he told her?” His lips twisted. “Something went wrong.”

  Those had been Scarlett’s exact words to him before.

  Sullivan tossed some cash down on the table and rose. But he didn’t walk away. He kept his glare on Grant. “You two hurt each other enough before. You came in this time, you played the hero. You got her clear...”

  The charges hadn’t been dropped, not yet.

  “So now you need to be smart. Walk away.”

  Grant didn’t want to walk away from her. He couldn’t.

  “I’ll never forget the way she looked in that hospital.” Sullivan’s voice had lowered. “And you know what else I won’t forget? The way you looked when you came back from that trip to Georgia.”

  When he’d been so desperate to see Scarlett and he’d followed her to the university. Only she hadn’t been in that dorm room.

  Ian lied, Scarlett’s voice whispered through his mind.

  “You went out, got so drunk you could barely move, and then you started picking a fight with the first lowlife you saw.”

  No, it hadn’t been just any lowlife.

  “That guy who used to tease Scarlett so much because her dad cut out on her family. He made the mistake of saying her name...” Sullivan exhaled. “I had to pull you off him. You were out of control. Because of her.”

  Grant didn’t speak.

  “The two of you are a dangerous combination. So be safe this time and walk away.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t.” It was too late for that. He turned away, but Sullivan caught his arm.

  “We have enough crap happening right now,” Sullivan said, voice rasping. “After all this time, we still don’t have the SOBs who killed our parents. And Ava...you know she’s not the same. She’s been too fragile since then. We have to focus on our family. We have to protect them.” His hold tightened. “You and Scarlett are trouble that we can’t handle now.”

  It wasn’t about making a choice between Scarlett and his family. “I know my responsibilities.”

  “Do you? Because I’m worried about you, bro...worried about the way you look at Scarlett. Worried about—”

  Grant knocked Sullivan’s hand away. “How do I look at her?”

  “Like you can’t live without her. Like you’d destroy anyone who tried to take her from you.” Sullivan’s eyes were narrow. “That’s dangerous. She wrecks your control. She always has, and you can’t expect me to just stand by while you spiral—”

  Grant’s laughter cut through his brother’s words. Cold, hard laughter. “Don’t come between me and Scarlett.”

  Realization filled Sullivan’s eyes. “You’ve—already?”

  Grant’s jaw locked. “And don’t ever keep a secret about her again. When it comes to Scarlett, I need to know everything.” He pulled away from his brother. Took a step—

  “Then I guess I should tell you about Ian Lake.” His tone was flat. Bitter.

  Grant looked back.

  “Because I’m sure Scarlett won’t tell you about him.”

  Ian’s smiling, pretty boy face flashed through Grant’s mind.

  “Secrets...” Sullivan muttered. “They have a way of wrecking you.”

  * * *

  SOMEONE WAS KNOCKING at her door. Scarlett opened one eye, expecting to see Grant’s glorious naked self right beside her in the bed.

  He wasn’t there.

  His pillow was empty.

  No glorious, naked body.

  Her other eye opened. Her hands stretched out and touched the sheets. They were cold, holding none of his body warmth, as if he’d been gone for too long.

  The pounding came again. She sat up, pulling the sheet with her. A quick glance at the nearby clock showed her it was close to 1:00 a.m. Who would be visiting her then?

  Grant.

  She jumped from the bed. Kept that sheet wrapped around her. Maybe he’d gone out for a minute and now was trying to get back inside. She hurried toward the living room and the front door.

  But the pounding had stopped. She started to open the lock, then hesitated. Biting her lip, Scarlett leaned forward and put her eye to the peephole.

  She didn’t see anyone out there.

  But...but someone had been there.

  Unease slid through her. She turned around, realizing that much of her home was in darkness. She pulled the sheet closer.

  Where had Grant gone? Why had he left?

  Maybe he’d written her a note. She flipped on the lamp near the couch and turned on the light over her desk in the den.

  There were no notes in there. She reached for her phone, thinking she’d call him—

  Stop. He left you. Don’t give him a desperate call in the middle of the night. He. Left.

  As if he hadn’t done that before. She shouldn’t have been surprised.

  She put the phone back on the desk.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d slipped away, but she was. She was also hurt.

  Her feet were silent as she headed back to her bedroom. It was dark in there, but some moonlight spilled through her window, falling onto the bed.

  She put on a loose T-shirt and leggings. Then she slid back into the bed. She could smell Grant there. His rich, masculine scent. And she could still feel him all along her body.

  In her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to take some slow, deep breaths.

  That was when she heard the creak, a soft creak of wood. It sounded as if it had come from near her window. The window that led out to the fire escape.

  It could have been nothing. She lived in an older building. A converted brownstone that had been divided into condo units. She was on the top floor, the third floor.

  It could have been nothing...

  But then the sound came again. Another creak of her wooden floor. Her eyes flew open.

  Grant?

  A dark shadow stood at the edge of her bed.

  “Grant?” Scarlett whispered, but fear was snaking through her. Not Grant. Not Grant!

  The shadow lunged toward her, and Scarlett screamed.

  * * *

  GRANT PUSHED HIS brother closer to the back of the bar. “What about Ian?”

  “I got curious after your little side trip up to Georgia. I wondered just what had gone wrong.”

  Grant growled. The guy was testing his patience. Tension had knotted Grant’s stomach.

  “When I got there, Scarlett was in the hospital.”

  What?

  “See her too much there,” Sullivan muttered.

  “What had happened to her?”

  “Her boyfriend. Seemed he was the jealous type.”

  Rage twisted in Grant.

  “He broke her arm and bruised her ribs. She said he pushed her down the stairs of her dorm. He said she was drinking and fell.”

  A dull roar filled Grant’s ears.

  “One of his frat buddies backed him up, claiming that he saw Scarlett drinking, so no charges were filed.”

  Grant’s hands were fists. “Did you talk to Scarlett?”

  “No, I talked to that jerk, Ian. I let him know that nothing else would happen to her. That he’d stay as far from Scarlett as possible or he’d be the one in the hospital. And a broken arm would be t
he least of his injuries.”

  Grant’s body was actually shaking with the force of his rage. How many more secrets did Scarlett carry? And would they all cut him up like this?

  Ian hurt her...I could have stopped that. I could have been right there. I would have knocked that fool—

  “Based on the way you acted, I figured you and Ian had gotten into a fight, and he took his fury out on Scarlett.”

  “We didn’t fight,” he said, voice tight. Grant wished they had. He wished he’d stayed in that dorm longer and actually seen Scarlett, talked with her.

  “Scarlett? You’re looking for my Scarlett?” Ian’s pale blue eyes had widened. “And who the hell are you to be looking for my girlfriend?”

  He’d seen the picture then, behind Ian. A photo on the desk...of Scarlett and Ian.

  Grant’s voice had been rough when he’d demanded, “You’re with Scarlett?” But that answer had been obvious, so he’d plowed on. “I’m Grant McGuire. An old friend. I have to see her.”

  Ian had recognized his name. “You’re no friend. Scarlett is done with you. Her future is with me. A future we’re already planning.” And the guy had smirked. “We’re looking at rings this weekend.”

  Grant couldn’t even remember what he’d said after that. He’d felt foolish for chasing her across all those miles to Georgia. He’d been mooning over her for months, and she’d already hooked up with someone else.

  He’d been so furious to see that little jerk in her room, talking as if he had some kind of right to Scarlett.

  And I’d been so angry at her because she wasn’t as torn up as I was. Because she’d moved on, and I couldn’t get her out of my mind.

  “You keep too many secrets,” Grant told his brother as he tried to push back his anger. “If you’d just said—”

  “By the time I got to Georgia, you were already on your way back to the Middle East. You had a rescue mission there and your team was counting on you.”

  They had been, but Scarlett had been hurting. Grant hadn’t been there for her. Again. No wonder there was so much pain in her eyes when she looked at him. He did nothing but let her down.

  “You told me,” Sullivan said. “Before you left for that mission, you told me that you were done with Scarlett Stone.”