by Zoe York
Maybe I don’t deserve her.
But he wanted someone to deserve her. He wanted her to find some happiness, that was for damn sure.
After training ended and Matt had dismissed his troops, he fell in step with his older brothers as they headed to the officers’ mess. As non-commissioned members, they usually went to the Sergeants’ Mess, but tonight they’d been extended an invitation upstairs because their baby brother was having a proper send-off from the Canadian Forces.
Sean was the only officer among them, the only one of the four brothers who had followed their father’s footsteps into commissioning. The other three had all enlisted, happy to be grunts. Happy to take a different path than that of their cold and distant father, who had provided the bare essentials of life after their mother died of cancer, but never more than that. Never love, not really.
Sean’s ambition had outweighed any resentment. He’d wanted to go far in the Forces, but that career path had been taken from him in a single, brutal explosion.
They were lucky to have him alive. Standing, albeit with the aid of a cane. Smiling, too—although that was mostly credited to Jenna, the woman he’d secretly married right before his injury, the unexpected wife who had shown up in Pine Harbour while he was recuperating.
They were lucky to have Sean, and he was lucky to have Jenna.
Lucky, yes, but that didn’t change the fact that their baby brother was saying goodbye to the military far sooner than he’d have liked.
There were the usual toasts from the commander of the unit and Sean’s fellow officers, but once the formalities were over, Dean grabbed them all for a private toast, just the four of them. “To our baby brother,” he said. “Full of surprises and capable of anything.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Jake said, lifting his glass, and Matt did the same, finding himself choked up.
When they were younger, they’d been close in a blood-relations way. Responsibility bound them more than commonalities. But over the last few years their friendships had been tested and strengthened, and now his brothers were his best friends.
And you’re keeping a secret from one of them.
“You guys have been…” Sean shook his head, looking a hell of a lot older than his twenty-seven years. “I’m beyond grateful,” he finally said. “For all the ass-kicking, and driving, and food and shelter and beer.”
“Speaking of ass-kicking and shelter,” Dean said, changing the subject to the new house Sean was building for his bride. “Jake pushed the calendar appointment to my phone this afternoon. Construction begins in March?”
Sean nodded, but before they could get into that conversation, Dean pointed to the door, where their father stood. “Hey.” Their dad was long retired now, but as a former member of this very mess, as a former CO of the unit, he was always welcome. But Matt was pretty sure none of them had known he was coming tonight.
“Yeah,” Sean said gruffly. “I invited him.” He looked at them all. “What?”
“Nothing.” Dean raised his voice. “Over here, sir.”
“Sons,” the Colonel said as he approached. “I see you’re bringing your beer-guzzling ways into the Officers’ Mess.”
Seriously? Matt sighed. “Only way to do a mug out, Dad. Mug. Of Beer. Well, I’d do a mug out with gin, too, but I don’t think you’d approve of how that would end.”
Jake groaned. “Don’t say it.”
Matt crowed as he lifted his beer in the air. It felt good to cut loose. “Pants off, all the way.”
Their father ignored that and turned to scan the crowd. “Good turn out tonight.”
Sean cleared his throat. “How about you and I go have something that’s served in a proper glass?”
Matt couldn’t hold back his reaction, and from the look on his brothers’ faces, they were surprised that Sean was giving their dad the time of day, too.
Sean pointed at him. “Matt, make sure your pants stay on until you head back to your own mess.”
He lifted his glass in a sober mock-salute. “Yes, Captain.”
A year ago, he’d have zero intentions of obeying that order. Now, he didn’t really need the reminder to behave.
“Where’d you go?” Dean nudged his arm and Matt looked up to see both of his older brothers frowning at him, their brows furrowed.
He tipped back his glass. “Nowhere.”
Jake opened his mouth to say something, but they were saved when his phone started ringing, and he excused himself.
When Matt looked back at Dean, the oldest Foster brother was staring at him.
“What?”
“Are you mad at Jake about something?”
“No.”
Dean didn’t look convinced.
Matt sighed. Fuck. “Do you remember that whole thing that happened around the time he finally admitted he had feelings for Dani? With his friend from up north?”
“The pregnancy scare? Yeah, I don’t think anyone will forget that.” Dean’s frown deepened. “What made you bring that up?”
“Nothing.” Matt took another long swallow of beer. “So much for you and Jake being the responsible ones, right?”
“How did I get lumped in there?”
“Never mind.”
“Is this about Sean wanting to build a house and start a family?”
Matt choked on the next sip of beer.
Dean misread his reaction. “What did you think, he wants to build a five-bedroom house so he has extra rooms for his shoe collection?”
No, that wasn’t what Matt thought, but he wasn’t about to correct his brother. He drained his glass. “I need another drink.”
“Before you stumble off into tonight’s friendly warm bed, I want to talk to you guys again.”
Matt’s head started to buzz, and not in a good way. This point he would correct. “There won’t be a friendly…whatever. I’m not that guy anymore.”
“Since when?”
“Seriously? Since Sean came home with his brain scrambled.”
Dean made a surprised face. “Huh.”
Matt wasn’t sure why he was making a point of that. The only person he wanted to know that, actually, was Natasha. It didn’t matter if anyone else thought he was still sleeping around, but it rankled at him that his brothers had all been so wrapped up in their own lives they hadn’t noticed he’d changed.
You’ve hidden a lot from them, though. Maybe it wasn’t just one secret he was keeping, and not just from one brother.
“What do you want to talk about that you need all of us together, anyway?” As soon as he asked the question, Matt knew the answer, and he felt like a heel. Damn it. He was just as guilty of not paying attention. “You’ve set a wedding date.”
His brother grinned. “Yeah. Now that Sean is in a good place, it’s time. We’re thinking early spring. Something casual at our place that will still somehow take six months to plan.”
“Well, shit, man, that’s exciting.” Matt stuck out his right hand. “Congratulations. You’ve waited long enough.”
Of all of them, Dean had taken on the bulk of Sean’s care when he’d been released from the hospital. Which meant that all of Dean’s newfound happiness with Liana, the country music singer he’d fallen for when he worked as her bodyguard on tour, had been put on hold so he could nurse their bitter and broken brother back to health.
Dean gave his fingers a quick squeeze, then clapped Matt on the shoulder. “I guess now I can tell Jake and Sean individually.”
Matt nodded. “And I guess I can get back to the best part of a mug out.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, bud.”
Of course he wouldn’t. And Matt was doing his best to live up—or down—to his brothers’ expectations tonight.
He headed for the bar anyway. The next two beers went down quickly, but the one after that he drank more slowly, and then he switched to Coke. Just because it would be easy to be that guy again didn’t mean it was who he really was. Or something. He was pretty sure he
was drunk.
It had been a while, though.
And from the looks of it, he wasn’t the only one. Sean was leaning pretty hard against the wall, and his cane.
Matt weaved his way over to his younger brother and waved off an offered glass of brandy from one of the retired officers. “Thank you, sir, but I’ve had enough tonight.” He waited until Sean had also declined a drink, and when they were alone, he gestured to his lower body. “Pants are still on.”
Sean grinned. “Miracle.”
“We all have to grow up sometime.”
“Afraid so,” his baby brother said with a laugh. “Sorry, man.”
Jesus. Until he’d been injured, Sean wouldn’t have been one to razz Matt for his choices. Hell, Sean would have been right there with him, living it up and not worrying about the consequences. Now even his baby brother saw him as lacking. And Matt couldn’t be bothered to argue, so he just shrugged. “I’m in no rush. Growing up is highly overrated.”
Which was a stupid thing for him to say when he didn’t really feel that way anymore. Maybe hadn’t for a while. But it seemed like what his brothers would expect from him.
“I don’t know about that. Life is short. I told Jenna I wanted to fill all the bedrooms with babies.”
Matt scuffed his heel as he rolled that around. Dean had already said as much, but it was something else to hear it from Sean directly. “What did she say?”
One corner of his brother’s mouth curved up in a satisfied smile. “That’s between me and my wife.”
Matt nodded. “Well…good for you. Jenna’s great. You’re lucky. And kids are great.”
Had he just said great twice? He frowned. He meant it sincerely.
Beside him, Sean chuckled, then sighed. “I can’t drink like this anymore.”
“You aren’t missing anything.” Matt made a face.
No, it was him who was missing something. Not that anyone would ever notice.
He grabbed the last bottle of his Neustadt lager to take home with him. His brothers filled the truck with noise so he didn’t have to participate, and by the time he was dropped off at his apartment, all he could think about was texting Natasha and saying goodnight.
That’s not exactly what he typed, though.
Matt: I’ve been thinking.
Matt: Hi.
Matt: Are you still up?
Matt: I wanted to say goodnight again. Ignore the part about me thinking.
It took her a few minutes to respond.
Natasha: Hi. I’m at work, but it’s dead. And thinking sounds dangerous.
Matt: Maybe.
Natasha: What are you doing?
Matt: Just got home. Drinking a bottle of that beer you recommended.
Natasha: Nice.
Matt: You’re nice.
He was making a hash out of this. He should just say goodnight and then turn off his phone.
That’s not what he did.
Matt: Hear me out.
Natasha: LOL, I’m listening.
Matt: I like you.
Natasha: I like you too.
Matt: See? That’s a good first step.
Natasha: Or just a fun anecdote in the story of my life.
Matt: I’ve been thinking about that.
Natasha: You have?
Matt: Yeah.
Natasha: This is a weird conversation to text about.
Matt: Can I call you?
Instead, she called him. His screen lit up, and he greedily tapped to accept the call. “Hey.”
“You sound drunk.”
“I’m something.”
“I kind of got that impression from the texts.”
“I was thinking about you. And about other stuff.”
“You said that.”
“Right.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be an anecdote.”
“That was glib,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. We had fun on Monday. It was nice to see you again.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Good.”
“We probably shouldn’t—”
“—I’m looking forward to next week,” he said at the same time, cutting her off.
She sighed. Then she laughed, and that was when he knew he had her. Maybe just a tiny bit of her, but it was the opening he needed.
“And Saturday,” he said quickly. “I’m looking forward to any little slice of time I get with you.” And now he needed to beat a hasty retreat before he lost any traction. “All night long, I looked forward to texting you good night. The rest sort of spilled out, but that was what I really wanted to say.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Good night.”
She ended the call.
That was for the best.
He finished the beer, then turned on the TV. Netflix-and-complicated-thoughts-about-Natasha didn’t have quite the same ring to it as Netflix and chill or even Netflix and his right hand, but as far as Wednesday nights went, it wasn’t really that bad at all.
Chapter Ten
On Friday, Dan had a vacation day to burn and volunteered to watch Emily, so Meredith and Natasha could see the house in Wiarton.
It was totally perfect.
Damn.
Natasha prowled around the main floor again, looking for any reason to hate it. She couldn’t find any.
Sure, it needed a lot of work. A ridiculous amount of work. The two small studio apartments on the back of the house were complete gut jobs. The photos hadn’t shown any of that, and their realtor—who Meredith had quickly become best friends with—was apologetic about the condition of the space.
Natasha didn’t really care, because the main unit, where she and Emily might live, was in better shape—relatively speaking.
On the main floor, only the living room was habitable. The kitchen needed to be completely gutted. Same with the bathroom on the first level. But upstairs had an old but perfectly functional tub and toilet, so she could move right in and do the renovations herself.
“What do you like?” Meredith asked under her breath as they passed each other on the stairs.
Everything. “Not sure yet.”
“Liar.”
“Shut up.” Natasha shook her head as she climbed the last few stairs. She couldn’t really do this. It was—
She stopped in the front bedroom.
No, she wouldn’t shut herself down like that. Just like she wanted Emily to grow up thinking she could do anything she wanted, she needed to live that for herself.
Because yes, actually, she could do this.
It would be hard.
It would be stressful.
But the old Natasha wouldn’t have shied away from the challenge. She would have grabbed on with two greedy hands and made this house the best little inn Wiarton had ever seen.
You don’t even know what the market is like here for this kind of thing.
It didn’t matter. That was one thing she’d learned over the years. You didn’t try to horn in on an already crowded part of the tourism market. You made your own space and then hustled hard to convince people it was too good to pass up.
You got people to go out of their way for you.
She’d lost sight of that, too. Hell yes. She could do this. She could do this like a freaking boss.
Maybe not this house, though.
But one just like it, and soon.
Apparently her sister didn’t get the maybe one just like it memo, though, because when Natasha got back to the main floor, she found her sister saying the most outrageous thing to the realtor.
“We might make an offer,” her sister said, ignoring the wide-eyed stop it message Natasha was trying to send her. “But we’d have a long list of conditions.”
“The owner isn’t in a position to make changes to the property,” their agent warned them.
Meredith beamed. “Excellent. Then they must be in a position to negotiate the price. Let’s start at twenty percent below asking. What do you think?”
The agent laughed. “I think you’re a force to be reckoned with.”
“You have no idea,” Natasha muttered. Oh. God. She lifted her voice and gave her sister a pointed look. “We aren’t in a position to make an offer today. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” the agent said. “You’ve got my card, and I’ve got your numbers. I’ll let you know if I hear of any movement on this place.”
“Call me,” Meredith said, waving her hand at Tasha’s protest. “I mean, call both of us. Of course.”
The agent laughed. “Of course. And before you leave town, make sure you check out the new school. It’s an easy walk from here. Everything in town is walkable, really.”
He was right. They set out on foot, and after walking past the recently renovated school, Meredith steered them towards Tim Horton’s.
“You need tea,” she said.
“Tea is not a cure-all!”
Meredith just smiled.
“Fine. And get me a cookie, too.”
As they waited for their order, Natasha fiddled with her phone, but her mind was racing too fast to concentrate.
She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly and scanned the coffee shop and then out the window. An ambulance pulled into the parking lot, and her heart rate sped up. But when the paramedics hopped out, neither of them were Matt.
Her relief felt a lot like disappointment, and she squirmed.
“This is a nice town,” Meredith said once they’d found chairs.
“Yep.”
“How do you feel about moving in this direction?” North. Closer to Pine Harbour. Meredith didn’t need to spell out the rest of her question.
The little hospital here in Wiarton was where she’d been taken by Jake’s girlfriend, now his wife, when Natasha had been in a car accident. Where he’d come running when she called him. Where she’d fought with her inner demons for hoping beyond hope that maybe he was her baby daddy.
This was a place she’d run away from four years ago.
Why had she fallen in love with a house here?
Why indeed.
“It’s fine. That was all a long time ago.” If she kept telling herself this, maybe she’d start to believe it. “Drink your tea.”