On The Rocks (Love After Midnight Book 3)

by Elise Faber

  I snorted, amused to my core even though I didn’t want to be. Still, I was able to summon at least a bit of sass. “Nope,” I said, tossing my hair over one shoulder. “No buts. It’s a simple case of I don’t like you.”

  He grinned. “Liar.”

  I was a liar.

  Because I did like him.

  And because there had been a but coming.

  A light tug on a strand of my hair. It should be annoying, that he kept doing that. Instead, I had to fight my smile every time he did it. Hayden amused and teased, and I couldn’t remember the last time in my life I had to stop myself from laughing out loud, had to bite my cheek in order to keep my emotions in check.

  Nope. It was normally easy for me to be a bitch.

  “Hmm.” He tugged my hair again. “Then why don’t I believe you, Rocky?”

  “That’s your problem.” I huffed out a sigh. “You were going to tell me how you’d faked your death.”

  “That’s true.”

  I shifted to see him more closely, my tone growing serious. “But Brooke said that you’d told her you couldn’t really talk about it.”

  “I did say that.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Well, it’s kind of a jerk move to tell me something you wouldn’t be willing to tell your sister.”

  He had a cool sibling.

  One who loved him beyond measure, who’d somehow been able to put aside the deception and her need to know every detail.

  His eyes went serious. “You’re right.”

  “Or to joke about it. Brooke and Brent were devastated.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “You’re right again.”

  Guilt swept over me and I regretted my words. “No, I’m a jerk,” I said. “It’s not my business, and I’m sure you had your reasons for doing what you did.”

  “I—”

  “Plus, Brooke told me she didn’t care about the details as much as she cared about having a second chance with you in her life. As long as you’re safe and here, she’s happy. That should be the end of my involvement.”

  “Except she shouldn’t be happy,” he said, “and I don’t want you to not be involved.”

  “Why not?” I asked, not sure which question I wanted answered.

  He made the decision for me. “She shouldn’t let me off the hook so easily.”

  “That we can agree on,” I said. “I wouldn’t. I’m too good at holding on to grudges.”

  “Is that something that runs in your family?” he asked.

  Ding. Ding. Ding.

  “Pushing again,” I said, but unable to not give a little after he’d just said what he’d said. I added, “But, yes, we Kims are very good at holding on to grudges, really good at internalizing our emotions until they explode into text messages like my brother sent. Thankfully, they’re infrequent.” I flopped to my back. “Most of the time, my brother is too focused on his work to worry about what the black sheep of the family is doing.”

  Quiet.

  I wrinkled my nose. “I can feel your raised eyebrow from here.” Huffing, I shifted to the side, saw I was right. That damn brow was lifted in question. “Just like I can feel you trying to outwait me so that I answer your question. Well, Buster, I’m onto you.”

  “Buster?” His lips twitched.

  Considering I’d never called someone Buster in all my life, I figured his smile was warranted. Not that I was going to let him know that. “Yes. I’m onto you. So stop with the secret agent stuff.”

  “Secret. Agent. Stuff.” He chuckled, and I narrowed my eyes. “Sorry,” he said, leaning over and slanting his mouth across mine. The kiss was as fast as it was gentle, but my lungs were still sawing when he pulled away and cupped my cheek. “I spent a decade trying to glean every bit of information I could from sources. It’s a hazard of the field, but I’ll try to be more normal.”

  “Don’t,” I blurted.

  “Okay.” He grinned and I could have kicked myself.

  “What kind of information did you glean?” I asked, purposefully changing the subject.

  Serious blue eyes. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Okay.” I shivered, though I probably should have been annoyed since he’d gone right back to secret agent stuff, complete with the brooding dark look, with his body coming closer to mine. He was strong. So much stronger than me. And hard. God, I wanted to find out if he was hard everywhere. Swallowing, I grabbed on to my self-control by the barest thread. “Are you using your macho military power to try and get laid?”

  “Depends”—a brush of his thumb over my bottom lip—“is it working?”

  Heat down my spine, need coalescing in my stomach, moisture gathering between my thighs. Yes, it was. But I wasn’t a weakling. I wasn’t going to admit to that. “No.”

  A grin that nearly melted my panties off. “Damn. You’re mean, Rocky.” A beat. “So, documentaries?”

  “What?”

  “Your favorite type of movie.”

  “Oh. No.” I paused. “Did you join the secret macho military organization to take down a drug cartel?”

  A flash of white, blue eyes dancing. “Nope. Horror?”

  “No way.” I shuddered. “Was it kids?”

  He froze, and I knew with every fiber of my being that Hayden’s fake death had to do with kids. With saving kids. “I had to do something.” He sighed. “The man who had recruited me knew that would be a trigger for me. I don’t know if it was my service record—I couldn’t help bonding with the kids over there—or just someone had done a workup on my psyche and knew I had a soft spot for them, especially kids caught up in war zones.” His jaw clenched.

  “They have it so fucking hard, have so little in their lives, and then they can be fucking exploited because some rich person had sick perversions or wanted to make more money off the backs of these kids.” He sat up, thrust a hand through his hair. “The guy who brought me in said his team, his agency needed me to help them, that they couldn’t save those kids without me.” Hayden’s jaw clenched. “What he didn’t tell me was that he was part of it.”

  I gasped and sat up next to him.

  “Yeah,” he said, hands clenching into fists on his thighs. “That. It took me a while to discover his role and then even longer to clear enough people in the group so that we could shut the ring down. But part of me is still worried that for all the good KTS is doing, it’s just as susceptible to the bad guys as the rest of the world.”

  “KTS?” I asked softly.

  His expression clouded. “Fuck, I’m losing my touch.”

  I bit my lip. “That part was something you shouldn’t have shared?”

  Regret in those eyes. “Some agent, huh? Can’t keep a secret, let alone stop himself from joining a corrupt military organization.”

  “Is it—” I waffled before deciding to just go for it. “You said there were people you trusted there. People who helped you.”

  “Yeah. They’re cleaning house. Part of me thinks I should have stayed, should have helped and done more. Should have just let everyone continue thinking I was dead instead of coming back and—”

  I kissed him this time. “You made a mistake. Let it go. Move on.”

  Fingers on my cheek, my throat. “I thought you advocated holding grudges.”

  “Yeah, I do.” I covered his hand with mine. He was passionate and haunted and . . . so damned strong. “But you helped people. You followed it through, and now you’re searching for something else. You’re allowed.”

  He froze. “That’s what Laila said.”

  “Who’s Laila?”

  “Someone who had my back.”

  “Well, you should listen to her,” I said. “Sounds like she’s smart.”

  Humor drifting onto his face. “She’d like you.” His lips brushed my forehead. “But the truth is I sacrificed my friend and my sister in search of some big ego trip, wanting to be a hero.”

  “Hayden—”

  Another thrust of his hand, mussing those reddish-brown
locks. “Brent still won’t talk to me.”

  “Give him time,” I said. “He’ll come around.”

  “I fucked up. He told me the recruiter was bad news. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Did you help the kids?” I asked.

  His eyes closed. “Yes,” he said. “But there are so many more out there who—”

  I covered his hand with mine, not knowing what to say. He was right. Of course he was right. The world was filled with plenty of good people, but there would always be those who were willing to hurt others for their own gain. That would never change, no matter how hard this man fought to do the opposite. And that thought gave me the words. “You’ll find a way to keep helping.”

  “I promised Brooke I was out.” He shook his head, eyes opening, landing on mine. “I can’t keep living a lie.”

  “So, you help them in another way,” I said. “Maybe you don’t stay with the group whose name I’ve already forgotten—” My stomach relaxed when Hayden’s mouth curved up. Maybe I wasn’t ready to admit to myself or him that I was drawn to him, that I liked him, but the truth was there deep inside. I could keep my distance from the rest of the world.

  Hayden was different.

  I was fighting a losing battle in keeping my distance from him.

  “So,” I went on. “Maybe you don’t work with them, maybe you stay out. But . . . also, maybe you can find another way to help.”

  Fingers on my cheek. “It’s that simple, Rocky?”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “It is.”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “Why do I think you’re right far too often?”

  I grinned. “Because that’s fact?”

  Those fingers trailed down my arm, sending prickles of heat through my skin, making my breath catch until . . .

  “Hayden!” I shrieked as he tickled me, unerringly finding the spot just below my ribs, and holding me tight to him so I couldn’t escape. “Oh my God! Stop!” I gasped, writhing against him.

  We tumbled back onto the blanket, kicking up sand, my hair tangled over my face.

  He kissed me. Long and slow and deep, he kissed me until my pulse thundered, until I was mush beneath him. He kissed me until my lungs burned for air, and even then, I didn’t want him to stop. He released my mouth, cupped my cheek in his palm, and said, “Thank you.”

  Then he kissed me again.

  We never did get to my favorite movies.

  But in the end, we got much more.

  Twelve

  Hayden

  I walked into the bar, half-expecting Anabelle to have retreated, to be greeted with that icy glare.

  We’d pushed through some barriers the previous day.

  On both our sides, and I’d expected withdrawal.

  Not the warm smile that arrowed heat to my groin and had me remembering the kiss I’d left her with on her porch, the invitation she’d given, but that I’d turned down. I liked her, knew she was worthy of time to build trust between us.

  She deserved to have romance.

  And . . . I wanted her to understand with crystal clarity that I wanted her. Only her.

  “Hey, Rocky,” I said, striding over to the bar and reaching over the battered wooden surface to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. I resisted the urge to twine the silken thread around my finger, but not the one to lean over and press my lips to hers.

  She shuddered out a breath when I released her mouth. “Hey . . . Hay.”

  A twitch of that glorious mouth at her joke.

  I ran my thumb over her bottom lip, damp and slightly swollen from my kiss. “You act as though I haven’t heard that before.”

  “New to me.” She nudged me back. “Go pester your sister. I’m working here.”

  Grinning, I leaned back and made my way over to Brooke.

  Who was staring at me with raised brows and a shit-eating expression. “How was shopping?”

  “Shuddup you,” I said, grabbing her in a headlock and giving her a noogie. “You hit your word count?” I asked after I’d released her.

  I’d come in late, wanting to catch Anabelle at the end of her shift, but I didn’t miss the fact that Brooke’s laptop was stowed away, that she was sipping from a glass with a thin red straw, that her face was happy and relaxed.

  “Yup. Thank God this book isn’t being difficult.”

  “You say that now,” Kace said, coming up behind her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But sooner or later your characters are going to start misbehaving.”

  “Not these ones,” Brooke said. “They’re perfect angels.”

  Kace’s eyes went hot and I averted my gaze, so I didn’t murder the man who dared lay hands on my sister. First, because I knew my sister was a strong woman who could fight her own battles. Second, because I knew Kace was a good man who loved her. And third—my gaze flicked over to Anabelle’s and I knew it went hot—I was fully aware that to deny my sister what I was feeling was not only wrong but hypocritical.

  However, she was still my sister.

  The need to dismember and de-bowel was legit.

  Thankfully, I knew better than to do anything to express the turmoil inside on the out—

  “Kills you, doesn’t it?” Brooke asked.

  I blinked, realized I’d been staring at Anabelle, even as she turned away, watching her move efficiently as she managed multiple orders at once.

  “Kills me to do what?”

  “That I’m all grown up.”

  I sighed, admitted the truth. “Yeah, Brookie, it does.” I sank onto the stool next to her. “I missed a lot. Not just with everything that happened in your life during the last few years, but before that. All the time I was gone. We were barely grown when Mom and Dad died, and I left on my first deployment when you were just leaving for school. Then I came back and—” I shook my head. “I should have—”

  “I was okay,” she interrupted. “I loved you and we were both doing the best we could with the cards that were dealt to us.” She reached over, squeezed my hand. “I stopped looking back the moment I met Kace, because I know that I have so much to look forward to.” Her expression took on a dreamy tinge. “Did you know I used to write my books because I never thought there were happy endings for people like you or me? That they were just made up and only found in fiction?” She smiled at Kace. “Then I found someone who was the other half of my heart.”

  Kace was mixing a drink but must have felt Brooke’s gaze on him because he glanced up and . . . he softened.

  That was the only way I could think to describe it.

  The big, tattooed, often scowling bartender went absolutely soft.

  My stare drifted to Anabelle, and though what I had with her was just in its infancy, in the earliest of building stage, I knew in my bones that I—that we could be like that, too.

  And I wanted it. So fucking bad that I could taste it.

  Brooke sighed, and I glanced back toward her, saw she was still staring goo-goo eyes at Kace. But I couldn’t tease her. I didn’t even want to. Not when she was happy.

  “I’m glad, Brookie,” I said, nudging her shoulder.

  She nudged me back. “So, how are you going to convince Anabelle that she’s yours?” She took a sip of her drink. “She’s a tough nut to crack.”

  “Funny story,” I said. “But I’ve got a plan.”

  “Does your plan involve more shopping?”

  I snorted then told the truth. “My plan involves making her fall for me as strongly as I’ve already fallen for her.”

  Brooke’s brows lifted in surprise. “It’s like that?”

  “You’re the one who insinuated that she might be the other half of my heart, Brookie.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I mean, I hoped. But really?”

  I nodded. “I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s so fucking strong and beautiful and smart.” She was also hurt deep inside. But so was I—cut to my core by what I’d seen, what I’d done. And I knew that was part of what had allowed my initi
al attraction to grow into something more. She felt deeply. She knew pain. But she put her head down and got through. She’d made a life, a family, a place for herself. How could I do anything but fall for her? “I was gone for her the moment she told me off the first time.”

  Brooke smiled. “Oh, we McAlisters. We never do things the easy way, do we?”

  “No, I can’t say we do.”

  “Fall fast, fall deep,” she murmured. “Just like Mom and Dad.”

  I remembered that story, my parents seeing each other at a summer fair of all places, each in line at the cotton candy stand. Their eyes had locked . . . and that was it.

  I made a face. “I always hated that story,” I told her. “Could never believe it was true. It just sounded . . .”

  Fake. Ridiculous. Fairytale.

  “I loved it,” Brooke said. She sighed. “I used to go to the fair and hope that I would meet my soulmate.” She wrinkled her nose. “Unfortunately, the only person who tried to pick me up was Mikey Harrison, and that was after I ate a jumbo corn dog.”

  I shuddered. “No more talk of jumbo corn dogs.”

  A wicked grin as she picked up her glass, started to sip. “Oh, does your plan not involve your jumbo—”

  I tipped up the bottom of her drink.

  She gasped and almost spilled it on herself, shooting me a dark glare. “This is my celebratory word count drink, and you almost made me drop it.”

  “I love you, Brookie.”

  Her eyes widened, and maybe they went a little damp, but I wasn’t able to totally discern that because she set down her glass and threw her arms around my neck, hugging me tight. “I love you, too, Hayden. I’m so glad you’re back.”

  I squeezed her back, another apology on the tip of my tongue, but before I could get it out, she dropped her arms and glared. “None of that.”

  “Brookie,” I began.

  “Forward,” she said. “We look forward now.”

  I sucked in a breath, released it slowly. “Okay.”

  “Good.” She waved at Kace. “Now, let’s get you a drink, and you can tell me all about your plan and how it involves corn dogs.”

  Of course, Kace chose that moment to appear in front of us.

  He stopped, brows raised. “Do I want to know?”