Gideon twisted out of Brannon’s grasp, clenching his jaw. He fought the urge to look up at the window again. She cried …
He thought of the look he’d seen in Moira’s eyes just a couple of hours ago, wounded, betrayed. Broken.
But then he made himself stop.
He was done.
He’d finally committed to doing the one thing he’d tried to do for years. He wasn’t going back down that hole again. It was too damn empty, too damn lonely down there.
“She got over it,” he said, managing a careless smile. “She got married, right? She moved on. It’s time for me to do the same.”
He headed down the stairs, telling himself he wanted a thorough update on just what the security team was doing.
“She never once looked at him the way she still looks at you,” Brannon called out.
Gideon kept walking.
“And she never once cried over him.”
This time, he hesitated.
Then he shook his head and forced himself to keep going.
* * *
“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”
Moira gave Ella Sue a wide-eyed stare and gestured to her neck. Gee, I wonder, she mouthed.
“Oh, it’s not that. That would make you look scared. Mad. Both.” Ella Sue pursed her lips. “And you are that, I can tell. But you’re also hurting, baby. On the inside.”
When Ella Sue came to sit down on the window seat next to her, Moira drew her knees up to give her room. Then, because she could, she rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder. “He’s leaving,” she whispered, staring out the window at Gideon. His dark head was bent toward Neil Fraser’s bald one.
Ella Sue tensed. “Please tell me you mean Neil.”
Moira shook her head.
“Oh, dear.”
Ella Sue managed to pack an awful lot into those two simple words.
“Yeah.”
Ella Sue’s dismayed silence lasted all of ten seconds. Then she nudged Moira aside and stood up. With her back to Moira, she stared into the empty room and then turned to look outside, her dark gaze unerringly seeking out Gideon. That study was brief, but intense and Moira had no idea what the woman was thinking.
When Moira became the focus of Ella Sue’s interest, she had the urge to squirm. Or remember something that suddenly needed doing. As if she could see exactly what was going on inside Moira’s head, Ella Sue crossed her arms over her chest and started to tap her foot. “So. He’s leaving.”
“Yes.” The pain in Moira’s throat was nothing compared to the one in her chest, one that threatened to tear her into a hundred, bleeding pieces.
“Then I guess you had better get busy, Moira. Child, I love you, but you’ve been punishing the both of you way too long. It’s time to stop.”
Moira gaped at her. “What … why…”
“Don’t.” Ella Sue’s eyes flashed. “I’ve kept quiet and I’ve done my best to … no. I have understood. But do you really think this is what your mother would have wanted? What your father would have wanted? You acted like a teenaged girl in love. You behaved like a brat, yes. That doesn’t mean you deserve a lifelong sentence.”
Moira flinched as if she’d been slapped.
Then, slowly, she drew her knees to her chest, hugging them as she tore her gaze from Ella Sue’s. “You knew. All this time…?”
“Yes.” Ella Sue stroked a hand down Moira’s hair, then cupped her cheek. “That crash wasn’t your fault. Not yours and not his. Heavens, Moira. If your mother had wanted you home that badly, she would have tracked you down and brought you home.”
Moira sucked in a breath, the pain in her throat almost matching the pain in her heart. Almost. Nothing would ever hurt that bad.
“Fix this,” Ella Sue urged. “Fix this … fix this tear you’ve put between you and him, because if you don’t, you’ll regret it the rest of your life. And so will he.”
Ella Sue left, leaving Moira alone.
TWENTY YEARS AGO
“Moira.”
She looked up from the clothes she’d been digging through. She had a date with Gideon tonight and she was trying to find the best way to wow him. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but she wanted … something.
“Hi, Mom.”
Sandra McKay stood in the doorway, blonde and beautiful, her hair cut short, an expectant look on her face. “You almost ready?”
“Just trying to find…”
Neve came barging in, braids flying, a wide grin on her face. She leapt up and ended right in the middle of Moira’s bed. “Neve, you brat!”
Clothes went flying, and so did the sexy little new set of underwear she’d picked up—the set she’d done her best to keep her mother from seeing.
“Don’t call me a brat! Otherwise you’ll have to buy all the tokens!”
Tokens? “Whatever.” Rolling her eyes, she pushed her sister out of the way as she tried to casually gather up the bra and panty set, dumping some other clothes on top to keep it mostly out of sight. “Would you scram? Gideon is going to be here soon.”
“Gideon’s coming?” Neve started to bounce and squeal.
“We’ve got a date. It’s our anniversary,” Moira said loftily.
“Oh. Oh, dear … Moira, I asked if you had plans.”
Looking over at her mother, she said, “I do. Gideon. It’s our anniversary. I told you that weeks ago.”
The look on Sandra McKay’s face had Moira’s stomach going tight. “Oh, don’t you dare try to push Nevie off on me. Gideon and I have been planning this for weeks! Don’t you remember me going shopping for clothes last weekend?”
Sandra passed a hand over her face. “Moira, calm down. I do … I must have confused the days when I asked you. Everything has been so messed up since Richard died.” Her mouth tightened as she looked over at Neve. “We’re trying to make … arrangements.”
“I have arrangements.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Moira glared at her mother.
“I don’t care for that tone of voice.” Sandra’s eyes chilled. “Keep it up and you won’t be going on that date with Gideon, or anywhere else for the foreseeable future.”
A mutinous retort leapt to her lips, but Moira bit it back. Her mother didn’t make empty threats.
“You go on your date,” Sandra said, her face set in implacable lines. “But we’re going to talk about your attitude tomorrow.”
“Mommy…” Neve’s voice fell into a needling whine. “I wanna go with Moira and Gideon. I wanna go on a date.”
“Too bad, brat!” Moira made a face at her.
“That’s enough, Moira.” Sandra held out a hand to Neve. “Come on, baby. Maybe you, Daddy, and I can have a date. I need to call Ella Sue, work something else out, okay?”
* * *
“I can’t believe she expected me to babysit Neve tonight,” Moira said as Gideon climbed off the bike. She had a picnic basket in one hand, a flashlight in the other. “She’s known I’ve been planning this for weeks.”
When he stood in front of her, he bent his head and his mouth closed over hers in a deep, hot kiss that left her head swimming.
“You know … I don’t recall us setting up a date to talk about your mom,” he said when he lifted his head away.
“Ha, ha.”
Gideon grinned back, taking the basket from her. They started to walk, heading around down the path that would take them down along the river. They had wanted to go to the same place where he’d first kissed her, where he’d asked her to be his.
So that’s where they were going. It was only about a half mile from the house, but nobody was going to bother them there.
Besides … she was thinking about talking him into going to the pool house later. Her parents had indeed taken Neve out on a ‘date’ and Brannon was grounded, so he wasn’t going swimming. Neve wasn’t allowed to swim unless Dad was home and Dad wasn’t going to want to swim by the time they got home, so even if they did end up coming back hom
e …
Privacy!
“Mom just spazzes over everything. I know what the problem is. It’s all because Richard died. She’s like determined to find a new guardian. She’s such a spazz,” Moira said. She shot a look back at the sexy work of art that was her boyfriend and shrugged.
Gideon had been her friend first. Then he’d become her boyfriend … now he was her lover. He was her everything.
She wanted to feel his body pressed up against hers again.
The first time hadn’t … well, it had hurt. It had been awkward on top of that, but she was stubborn. And the second time? Much better. She thought maybe tonight, if she could talk him into visiting the pool house, they could have a third time and it would be even better.
“Chill out, Mac. You’re lucky you got a mom who cares.” Gideon’s mouth tightened a little. “Shit, you got two parents who care. Toss in Brannon and Neve and you’re like the picture-perfect family.”
“Neve’s more a picture-perfect brat,” she said, laughing.
Gideon, in her mind, was about perfect. Nobody understood her like he did. Of course, he also had a mad affection for her annoying little sister, but nobody was completely perfect.
“She’s a kid.” Gideon caught her around the waist and kissed her neck. “You were a kid once too, Mac. I remember that … and you grew out of it. So will she.”
“Humph.” She elbowed him in the gut and they started walking again. “She’s got a crush on you.”
She saw the grin that split his face, and rolled her eyes.
“I know.” He chuckled. “I’m irresistible to the McKays. What can I say?”
“Yeah, well, I think Brannon is immune.”
Gideon almost choked laughing.
* * *
The chaise lounge wasn’t exactly a bed of roses, but it might as well as have been as she and Gideon fumbled with each other’s clothes.
They’d spent more than a few nights out here, doing this.
Their first time had been on this lounge, and she thought maybe it was her favorite piece of furniture in the whole damn world.
When he slid his mouth down to rub it against her neck, she brought her foot up and dragged it along the hard, heavy muscle of his calf. The coarse hair tickled her foot. She awkwardly lifted herself against him, and he made a low noise in his throat, driving against the hollow between her thighs. It sent a slow curl of heat through her.
When she did it again and she heard him moan, it gave her the courage she needed to slide one hand between them and rub him through his shorts.
He tensed, and when she closed her hand around him, he lifted his head, eyes glittering.
“You don’t know when your folks will be home,” he said gruffly.
“They aren’t going to come out here this late. They never do. Dad will be too tired after working all day then going out, and Mom only swims when we make her. Come here…”
She slid her fingers up higher and freed the button on his shorts. His breathing went ragged. “You … Moira…”
In the dim glitter of lights that filtered in through the windows, their eyes met. She licked her lips, blood rushing to heat her cheeks as she tugged at his underwear. As his eyes went hooded, she shoved her hand down the front and closed her hand around his penis. “Again, Gideon.”
She loved the feel of him. He was … soft. At least his skin was. Softness wrapped around the hot, heavy length of his cock, and she felt something pulse inside when he jerked in her hand.
“Again.” He rubbed his mouth against hers.
They fought with their clothes, her shirt and bra ending up in a twisted tangle around her arms and shoulders, while he yanked her panties and shorts down.
He came back to her and she gasped, the feel of him passing back and forth between her thighs filling her with liquid heat.
“Make love to me, Gideon,” she said, surprising herself with how easy it was to say those words.
He groaned and came inside her. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
* * *
The ceaseless ringing of the doorbell woke her up.
Mom, Dad, and Neve hadn’t been home when she’d gotten in—she’d checked her little sister’s room. Her mood had lightened considerably and she’d thought maybe she’d see if Nevie wanted to go swimming the next day. Or maybe fishing. The kid always loved fishing, especially with Gideon.
But none of them were home and Brannon had fallen asleep playing video games. That was typical. It was also typical that the doorbell didn’t wake him up.
What was strange was that neither Mom nor Dad beat her to the front door.
Moira rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she moved across the entryway and went to open the door. Only at the last second did she remember to disarm the system. She probably should have left it alone. She’d bet anything Brannon was still asleep in front of the big-screen TV in the family room. The alarm system was the one thing that did wake him up.
But responsibility bit at her, not to mention a little bit of guilt for how she’d acted earlier. She’d hoped to hear her parents come in so she could apologize to Mom, but she hadn’t been able to stay awake and Moira didn’t want to wake them up like that.
So she disarmed the system and opened the door midyawn.
Her blood froze at the sight of the police car in front of her house.
The chief of police stood in front of her, twisting his hat around and around in his hands. Two others were on the porch—no, three. Three others. Dimly, she realized Ella Sue was walking toward her. And Gideon.
Gideon was there.
And he had …
“Nevie?”
Neve just shoved her face against Gideon’s neck and as Moira stared at her baby sister, she realized the girl was shaking. Trembling, all over. Like a leaf, she thought, feeling dazed.
I want to go inside.
Looking back at the chief, she licked her lips. She couldn’t remember his name. A knot welled up in her throat, lodged there.
She wanted to go back inside. That was all she could think.
The chief said her name, but she shook her head and moved toward Gideon, intent on getting her little sister. It didn’t matter that Neve already reached the middle of Moira’s chest. She wanted to pick up her baby sister and go inside, shut the door and lock it.
Lock away the world, everything, everybody and wait for Mom and Dad.
“Moira, baby,” Ella Sue said. She tried to catch Moira on the arm.
Moira dodged away and rushed to Gideon. “Give her to me,” she demanded, reaching for Neve.
Gideon stared at her, his eyes dark, unreadable. “Mac … we need to—”
“No!” She screamed it.
That was when she found out something else could wake her brother up. A scream from one of his sisters.
As she tried to pry Neve’s trembling form from Gideon, Brannon appeared in the doorway. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep, deeper than it had been even just a few months ago. He was tall, too. He might even get to be taller than Dad. Dad, Moira thought helplessly.
“Give her to me,” she pleaded with Gideon.
“I want Brannon,” Neve whispered, speaking for the first time.
Brannon approached, quiet in that way he often had, realizing something was going on.
Neve went to him and clung tight. “It’s okay, monkey,” Brannon said.
Neve shook her head.
Moira backed away, shaking hers. No, no, no, no …
Gideon caught her arms. “Mac.”
The chief came toward her from one side, Ella Sue from the other—a silent, gentle wall.
“Moira, I’m terribly sorry…”
She stood there, staring at Gideon’s chest as the words were said.
“Did you understand me?” the chief asked gently.
Slowly, she looked up at him and nodded.
Then she looked at Gideon. “I never got to tell her I was sorry,” she said brokenly. “I ne
ver got to…”
The sobs tore into her then.
“I never got to tell her.”
“She knew, Mac.”
Wordlessly she shook her head. She wanted to tell her. She should have said it, should have done something—
She screamed then, a wordless outcry of pain and grief and guilt.
Gideon’s arms tightened around as she fought to free her arms from the embrace so she could cling to him. “Don’t let go,” she begged, feeling like the pain was going to end her. “Don’t let go.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
NOW
“You ain’t gotta say that twice.” Neil blew out a breath as he glanced over at Gideon.
But Gideon wasn’t paying him any attention.
Moira had slid out onto the wide, sweeping deck that flowed from the house and she was watching.
She wasn’t watching the work being done by the security team.
She was staring at him.
There was something in that gaze that he hadn’t seen. At least, not in a long time.
Clenching his jaw, he focused back on Neil. “How is this going to affect the family? They need to have full use of the grounds, not to mention the staff and people who come in to tend the grounds.”
“Not a problem. What we’re going to do is have pictures of everybody who belongs here—the family and Miss Ella Sue.”
“She is family,” Gideon pointed out.
“True, true.” Neil just nodded amicably. “Then the rest of the staff. They are the people who the system will recognize as normal. We scan them in. Then there are acceptable types. People who come and go, but it might be odd if the system picks them up here at a strange time … say midnight. Also, it can recognize acts of aggression. It picks up on a hundred different cues.” He smiled then, a glint in his eyes. “That will send up an alert that one of us will have to check. Then there are questionable people—visitors and what not. If people show up at the front, ring the doorbell? The alert for that is different than say somebody coming up through the back, trying to skulk in.”
The Right Kind of Trouble Page 7