by Piper Malone
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Wyatt echoes. “Are you guys together or what?”
“We’re working on it.” The words sound weak and unsure.
“Do I need to pull a Yoda quote, Nico?” Wyatt looks annoyed. “Are you or aren’t you?”
Pressure builds in my head. I don’t even know how to say this to Sky, and now these two are chewing on me. The open space under the covered porch somehow seems smaller. These are my brothers, my blood, quizzing me like I’m a teenager.
“We are trying.” It’s the truth, but it feels suffocating.
The pressure that everyone knows about Skyler, but not my relationship with Skyler, is crushing. My family is questioning a relationship that has been a mystery for years. We evolved into this mess of emotion and sex. Untangling it seems easy on paper, but the damage both of us have done stings at every touch.
I can’t breathe under the speculative looks of my older brothers, so I make a feeble attempt to flee.
“Hey,” I call to Blake and Ax, “are you ready to start building that?” Blake nods and motions for me to come over. I pick up three measly pieces of kindling and start toward the fire pit. I can’t afford brain space for hard questions right now, so I move one weak foot in front of the other.
“Run all you like, Nico,” Wyatt calls after me. “We know where you live.”
I nod and keep moving. It feels wrong to walk away from my brothers. They have done nothing but support me my entire life. But fumbling under their scrutiny has always been a terrible feeling. Disappointing them is worse.
“This is a sweet setup, Nick,” Ax says when I’m in earshot. He looks over my fire pit, impressed with the work. “Is this custom stonework?”
“Yeah. I came up with the design a couple years ago.”
“Great. Can you give me the name of the mason? I’d love to have one of these set up at my father’s cabin.”
“Sure,” I reply.
Ax stops his work and looks at me, his face pinched with curiosity. “Well?”
“Nick Harris.”
It’s satisfying to see the shocked look on his face. “You built this?”
“I designed it and harvested the stone from the back part of the property. Then I built it. The fireplace and mantel inside are mine too.”
Ax and Blake share a look of disbelief. Caleb watches me with a cool eye. I feel like I’m in for a dressing-down with him. With a gentle shake of his shoulders, Ax chuckles. “I look forward to doing business with you.”
I nod and turn to the sound of footsteps crunching across the blades of frozen grass sticking up though the thin layer of snow left after Caleb plowed. “Nico . . .” Wyatt’s hand curls around my shoulder. On a normal day, he would have pounded me with a backslap. “We have the grill ready. We’ve got food. Anything else?”
“I don’t think so. Wyatt,” I say, gesturing to the three men staring down my brother, “these are my friends from Boston: Ax, Blake, and Caleb. Guys, this is my brother, Wyatt.”
They exchange polite greetings before my brother cuts to the chase. “Are the ladies here for fun, or are they attached? I’ve been lonely on the boat.”
“The blond is mine,” Blake says with a predatory grin.
“Reagan, the brunette, is my wife,” Caleb adds before crossing his arms over his chest.
Ax smirks ever so slightly. “Who does Sky belong to, Nick? Certainly not me.”
“Cold day in hell if she did.”
“Well,” Wyatt says with a quick nod to Ax, “that answers that.” He gives me a pointed glance before looking back at my friends. “Holler when you’re finished cleaning. We’ll start gathering the kindling.”
*
The cold northern air seems less harsh in the warmth of an open flame. The scent of grilled meat and fish wafts around the backyard in thick plumes of smoke as the flames from the fire pit lick the deep-black sky. The sound of happiness emanates from every corner of the yard. My brothers arrived with their own groups of friends, turning what could have been an awkward family reunion into a small community festival.
Skyler and the ladies emerged from the house with trays of pre-dinner snacks and platters of sides. All of them greeted my friends and family as if they have lived here their whole lives. Skyler accepted hugs from the nurses who cared for her and accepted handshakes from their significant others. The EMS crew offered their greetings to her before meandering over to me.
An hour into the festivities, when the first call for clams and lobster rings out, Adam emerges from my home. The sight is not entirely odd. Adam usually enters the front door and moves through the house to find me. What is odd about Adam’s entrance is his company.
A few tentative steps behind Adam, Ronnie appears, brushing against Adam’s side. His glare drops, assessing the place where their bodies connect. Adam’s mouth, set in an inflexible bend, sends the intended message. Ronnie steps away from him and melts into the crowd.
I watch Adam prowl along the patio, scanning the people, nodding to each of our brothers in greeting. The moment he zeroes in on Skyler, he begins searching for me. When he sees me in conversation with high school classmates across the lawn, he steps off the deck toward her.
Yelling to her would create a scene. I attempt to leave the group, but a burly arm wraps around my shoulders, jamming every bone against all my sore muscles as he pulls me back in to talk about fishing. It takes a minute to catch my breath, refocus my vision, blurred from the pain I almost forgot. When I shake it off, I see Adam has been caught up too. He artfully dodges small talk, brushing people off politely as he moves toward Skyler like a hawk swooping in on a rabbit unaware of the incoming threat. Searching the yard, I see that Ax is close by. After Wyatt and Evan left this afternoon, we had a two-minute discussion about Adam and how Reign is not a topic here. I couldn’t hear their concerns. It felt wrong to ask them to help me hide my life, all of our lives, in Boston. It was a shit move, and I still feel like an asshole, but I have to keep some distance.
As Adam zeroes in, I look for any of the guys. All of them are engrossed in different conversations around her but not with her. When he approaches, I see she has all of the backup she needs.
He must have attempted to offer some kind of greeting, because she smiles politely. When he steps a little closer, Kat and Reagan slide into place on either side of my angel. Skyler gestures to Reagan and Kat, who each extend a hand to greet Adam. Whatever the conversation, all three are involved. Adam’s attention bounces between them as they each chime in. I can see my brother’s shoulders bunch, then I see his attempt to relax them. He’s in a mood again.
Blake and Caleb shift and idle just behind the women. They are close enough to move, but unassuming enough to pass as random partygoers. Ax slides around, maneuvering himself behind Adam. She is flanked by her girlfriends. The guys have their back. Ax is positioned to strike if needed. All of them ready to protect her from one big bad wolf.
Pride explodes when I watch her respond to him with a soothing smile. It’s the face she uses when she’s talking down an unhappy guest at Reign. He responds, and I see Kat take a step forward, and Skyler’s hand comes up to stop her.
She looks up at Adam, her mouth moving with a flow of words that I know are no nonsense. Skyler lifts her chin, a defiant look on her face. The guys hedge closer to the conversation, and I see them pass a look to each other. It’s the look we use when someone needs an escort to the exit. My chest pounds, my fingers vibrating with the call to step in and fix this problem.
The battle between being rude to people who have known me my entire life and protecting the person I want for the rest of my life from my asshole brother rages. I have to look away from Skyler to respond to a question about pieces I’ve made for weddings. My reply is factual, slurred by moving my head too quickly. When a follow-up question isn’t asked, I take the opportunity to excuse myself.
Stepping out of the circle, I blink past flashes of light and heavy shadows. The ladies ar
e clustered together; their heads are almost touching, arms wrapped around each other. Their tight circle erupts with laughter a moment later. Whatever was said came from Kat. A look of pure pleasure radiates from her, so the comment must have been foul. The three lift their drinks to each other, then splinter off. Kat locates Blake a few steps away. Reagan slides into Caleb’s open arms.
People move past me, drawing my attention with brief exchanges, causing me to lose track of her in the mass of people. When her hair was bright red, I could always find her. Standing in the swarm of people bundled in warm hats, I realize what a comfort her cherry-bomb hair was. I can’t find her, and I’m sure Adam would take any advantage to corner her alone.
The soft brush of a body, and arms around my waist, triggers a wave of relief. Skyler, with her calm magic, appears by my side with a radiant smile that bleeds mischief. Everything disjointed in my world feels right again. I curl my arm around her, pulling her close.
“Good talk?” I shift my eyes in the direction of her standoff with Adam.
Her eyes twinkle. “Enthralling,” she murmurs.
The group I tried to leave for ten minutes pulls us in, eager to meet Skyler. She greets all of them, extending her hand as my friends introduce themselves. Skyler brushes off whatever the conversation was with Adam and chatters with my friends as if nothing happened.
In the tight circle, I feel my worlds bleed into each other with comfortable fluidity, the perfect parts of my life existing in the same space.
Chapter 29
Skyler
You are mine tonight.
He said it throughout the entire evening.
You are mine tonight.
It was a taunt.
A threat.
Every craving, every passionate moment imagined in the darkness of a lonely night shimmers across every inch of my skin. Yet the light whisper in my ear carries the weight of his intention, plunging me into the icy reality of my future.
I want to see you. All of you.
Yes. I will. He will see it all. The scars. The damage.
Prepare yourself, Skyler. Amanda’s voice swims around my worry. Nick’s reaction to me, how his face might contort with disgust, is a memory I will endure for the rest of my life. The horrible possibilities, the snapshots of Amanda’s failed marriage after her husband couldn’t accept her, were only stories until now. The man I have hungered for could discard me with a single glance. A cold line slides against my back, a needle dragging against my skin. The pain isn’t deep enough to draw blood, but it skitters across my flesh, my limbs tensing against the sensation. Nick feels the tremor through our joined hands, breaking our connection to wrap his arm around my shoulders.
It was obvious to me that Nick had his fill of this party forty-five minutes ago. He started playing with the ends of my hair, rubbing the strands between his thumb and forefinger. The muscles of his jawline jump and bunch, a predator imagining the taste of prey before flesh touches the tongue. Swarms of friends who welcomed him home have dwindled down to a few passing conversations. Now it’s just us bidding goodbye to a couple who insisted Nick help them build an outdoor pizza oven. He flushed when they asked him, a smile of genuine pride gracing his handsome face. Nick beamed for the remainder of the evening, the excitement of the project overflowing the pain and agony of his injuries.
When we’re alone, Nick looks over the yard. Pockets of conversations linger around his brothers and our friends. He looks satisfied, pleased with the results of the evening. He should be; the Harris family has the entire town wrapped around their finger. The brothers are popular and, if I’m not mistaken, the most eligible bachelors in Rockland. All of them had women around them all night. Even Adam cracked a hole in his sourpuss complexion to flirt.
Nick’s gaze sweeps along my body, his mouth wrestling to control his smirk. His eyes blaze with unspoken intention. A single hand lifts, waving to Caleb with a tip of his wrist. I have seen that move a million times. It’s his I’m out wave. He’s not returning to the party, the group . . . the moment.
He’s out, and he’s taking me with him.
Nick’s fingers weave through mine. His meaty paw envelopes my tiny hand. I’ve always felt petite next to Nick. His height and broad shoulders create a haven, a barrier between the outside world and us.
The cozy warmth of his home stings the chilly stiffness in my cheeks. Delicious smells from the night’s feast infuse the air in the kitchen. He leads me past the dining room table, still heavy with food and drink. I pass a glance at Kat and Blake seductively curled around each other on the couch. Nick pays them no mind, moving us down the hall toward his bedroom at a measured pace.
With every step, his form seems to expand. He’s a force of masculine dominance: his shoulders seem to widen, and his height magnifies, the hallway narrowing as I allow myself to feel the draw of his power. Nicholas William Harris lured me into a place of complicit adoration years ago. He will keep me warm. He will fix the hurt. Nick will protect me.
Except from his eyes and my scars.
In the sanctity of his bedroom, a fire churns in the fireplace. Nick must have sent someone in to start it, because he hasn’t left my side for the past thirty minutes. The heat from the flames penetrates my cold skin, the flesh reanimating with a stinging burn. As if he knows the sensations are present, Nick’s rough hands curve around my cheeks and chase away the chill.
His green eyes look fierce. “I want nothing more than to force this situation.”
The words are textbook Nick. They are a serrated edge catching on the softness of my desire and tearing at the reasons I’ve kept this distance.
“I can’t do that, though.” Nick’s fingertips trace my neck, his hands resting on my shoulders, then pulling me close and pressing his mouth to my forehead. He inhales, a gesture he’s done with every intimate moment we’ve had. Nick takes his fill of me. Body. Scent. Soul.
The familiar cadence of this dance lessens the apprehension of this moment. His breath against my skin sets a calming rhythm, carrying me above worry and fear. The woodsy mix of fresh snow and campfire clings to his skin, drugging me with a scent that is so naturally Nick, my memories of his crisp, clean soap scent seem unnatural.
“You can.” The words were meant to sound clear and firm, but my voice waivers. If he takes control, I won’t hesitate. I can live in the flow of Nick’s control until he pushes me away.
He stiffens, a response I know too well. He doesn’t agree. I’ve pushed against his limit, but I know that even if I begged him to control this moment, he wouldn’t. I need to show him my body on my terms.
“No,” we say almost in unison.
He shakes his head, a restrained smile pushing past his rough exterior. “Let me tend to this fire for a minute. Think about how to tell me what you need me to know.” Nick steps away, then pauses. He inhales and says, “I’ll hear anything you want to say, Skyler.”
The words are a confession, a blessing.
Nick moves with smooth, silent grace around the room, stopping to stand at the edge of the bed, where I’m sitting. He sheds his coat and rubs his hands together before shoving them in his pockets.
“What’s wrong, Nick?” I can see he’s thinking. Nick thinking can be dangerous. “Do you need more pain medication?”
He looks around the room, his mouth screwed up in a bullish pout. “No more of that stuff. I hate it.” He shakes his head, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t get over what Reagan said,” he rumbles. His gaze scans the room before settling on me. “Years, angel. We wasted years.”
I can’t deny the accusation. She was right. “We did waste them, Nick. All of them.” I wait, bracing for his reaction. A slight nod, a contemplative press of his lips is all he offers. “We need to figure out where we go from here. Are we wasting our time, or are we living life together?”
His eyes lock on mine, and I see the angst billowing in the depth of his mind. “I told you I would try,” he grumbles.
“I know, and I’m so grateful for the chance to be with you.”
He rears back. “I’ve always been with you, Skyler.”
“Very true, but you have never been mine.”
He glares at me, a deep scowl etches lines around his mouth. When he blinks, his face softens ever so slightly, the mask falling a bit. “I need to tell you something before we do anything else.” Nick’s raw intensity is unnerving.
I curse my own willingness to say, “You can tell me.”
He steps back, his jaw clenched as if the words are jumbled in his mouth, fighting for freedom. “You were gone, and I didn’t know.” He pauses, looking unsure. “I didn’t know anything.”
The words make my stomach drop. Oh god . . . In my logical mind, I knew he wouldn’t wait. A man can’t hold out for the possibility that someone might return.
He looks at me, imploring me to say something.
“You’re right. You didn’t know.” I can hear the thready hesitation in my voice.
“We had to keep with the training schedule at the club. Caleb didn’t want any gaps while he was gone.”
The heat from the fire feels too intense. His hesitation is making my skin crawl. Nicholas William Harris, the man who could kill with his bare hands, is dancing a jig around his guilt, and it’s making me sick.
“If you are with someone, I understand. But you could have told me before . . . all of this.”
Nick is rooted in place. “You can’t possibly think I’m dating someone. Skyler, we’ve been this for years, and you think now is the time I’m going to go after someone else?” He paces, looking irritated. “We’ve had sex since we’ve been here. You know me better than that.” The menace in his voice sends a shiver down my spine.
I do know him better than that. As far as I could tell, he was never with anyone else once we were paired. I nod, unable to push reassuring words past the lump in my throat.
“We—all of us—decided Chloe would stand in for you.”
I feel pieces of my heart crumble. Chloe.