If You Fall (Brimstone #1)

by S. E. Lund

  I decided to get him to drop me off at home. I’d have a quick shower, change my clothes, and then I’d meet him for dinner.

  Jeanne did say I needed to make a new life for myself…

  Still, it made me cringe a bit inwardly that Scott and Jeanne would know I was seeing someone new – so close to the anniversary of Dan’s death on top of it.

  I left the office and went out to the bar, pulling up and sitting on the stool beside Beckett. He turned and smiled when he saw me and then leaned in, kissing me softly on the lips before I could even think.

  “So, are you hungry?” he asked.

  I looked in his eyes, wondering if he was serious or was hoping we’d go right back to his hotel.

  “I’m starving. I haven’t eaten anything but bar garnish since noon.” I checked my watch. It was now ten fifteen.

  “What do you feel like? I’d love some fish.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said with a smile. “You said Louis’s Backyard? It’s pretty decent seafood.”

  “Great,” he said and finished his glass of beer. He stood and waved to the door, and then he offered me his arm. I took it and we walked out of the bar and into the warm late summer night.

  “Before we eat, do you mind if I go home and have a quick shower and change?” I asked. “I feel pretty grimy after a long shift. You could drop me off and then I could meet you there.”

  He stood by his bike, where a helmet was attached to the rear seat. “Look at me,” he said and pointed to his jeans and t-shirt. “I’m not all gussied up.”

  I laughed at that. “I need a shower. I need clean clothes.”

  He smiled. “Sure. I do, too. I’ll go back to the hotel and change. I can go to Louis’s and get a table. They have a nice patio overlooking the beach. Check out the stars.”

  “Do you mind? I feel a bit weird bringing a strange man to the house.”

  “Strange?” he said with a grin. “I’ll have you know I’m a completely middle of the road kind of guy. Don’t let this suave and debonair exterior fool you.”

  We both smiled and I took the spare helmet from him, pulling it on and fastening the strap. He did the same and then sat on the bike, starting it up and revving the engine. I sat behind him, my feet on the bars and my arms on his shoulders.

  “Hold on tight,” he said and we zoomed off. I had to slip my arms around him, and it felt so good, holding onto a man like that. We drove down the street to Scott and Jeanne’s house and he stopped the bike and took off his helmet when I took off mine.

  “Don’t stand me up,” he said, looking at me from the corner of his eye. “I’ll be waiting for you at Louis’s.”

  “I won’t stand you up,” I said, shaking my head. I handed him the helmet. “I’m hungry. They have great fresh fish and crab cakes.”

  “Sounds great.” He smiled once more and leaned in, kissing me on the lips before I could pull back. Part of me wanted to stop him, push him away in case Scott or Jeanne were looking out the window. In fact, I was certain they were looking out the window, given the sound of Beckett’s bike. The other part of me ached for his touch and didn’t want to care who saw me with Beckett. I loved that he was so affectionate, kissing me when we met and parted, touching me, smiling. He seemed really attentive and that made me feel so desirable.

  I hadn’t felt that way for a long, long time…

  “See you soon,” I said and smiled.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Then, he put his helmet back on and revved the engine, driving off back the way we came.

  I turned and went inside, closing the door softly behind me. I put my bag down and removed my shoes, then took the stairs to the second floor where my bedroom and ensuite bathroom were. I hoped I’d be able to quickly shower and change my clothes without having to face Scott or Jeanne, but my hopes were dashed when I heard someone closing the door to the living room.

  “Mira?” Jeanne said. “You home to stay?”

  I stopped on the stairs and turned to face her. “No,” I said, my voice a bit wavery from nerves, a wave of guilt filling me that I was going out with a new man. “I’m meeting a friend at Louis’s Backyard for a late supper.”

  “That’s nice, dear,” she said and smiled. “Don’t let me keep you.” Then, she went back into the living room and closed the door behind her.

  I sighed in relief that she didn’t press me on who I was meeting. I tried to quell the guilt that filled me, but it was hard, my throat a bit choked from emotion. I pushed it out of my mind and went to my room, quickly showering, changing into a more casual sundress, and sandals. I put on a touch of mascara and lip gloss and then finished drying my hair. Once I was done, I called a taxi and waited outside, hoping that neither Jeanne or Scott came out to check on me.

  Then I went to him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Beckett

  On the way back to the hotel, I considered what I should do. Did I really want to keep seeing Miranda, knowing who I was and how I was connected to her husband’s death?

  Part of me, the hot blooded man part, said damn straight. We were attracted to each other. No doubt about it. Sex would be fantastic for us both. I’d make sure of that.

  The other part, the decent human part, said no. She deserved more than to have a man deceiving her. I should tell her who I was so she could make a real choice.

  The drive back to the hotel was spent debating with myself. I knew that I was trying to rationalize my own desire for her. I didn’t want her to know who I was, because I knew she’d blame me for Dan’s death. It was my fault – it was my company’s fault – it was SAD wanting to see how well my new com system worked in theater instead of just in a safe environment back home in a war game.

  I couldn’t deny that I wanted her. Maybe all it could be was a great erotic encounter between us. Nothing more. If that was good enough for her, why did she need to know anything else?

  It wasn’t like I planned on marrying her or anything…

  I finished my shower and stood on the patio overlooking the water, staring across the expanse of sand to the surf below. The roar of the waves filled my ears, but all I could think of was Miranda and how much I wanted her. I wanted to be with her and was so torn. I glanced up at the sky but the stars offered no answers. I’d have to find them myself.

  Leave her alone, my brain kept telling me, but there was this other part of me – a very selfish part, that said, go to her. You want her. She wants you. Life is short.

  So I went to her.

  I left the patio, dressed in my other suit and tie and then took the limo service to Louis’s Backyard. I found a table near the edge of the deck overlooking the beach and waited for Mira to arrive. While I waited, I texted Casey, because I was having a bad case of ethics break out and needed her.

  BECKETT: Help! I think I’m being an asshole and need your advice.

  I waited for her response, which came a few moments later.

  CASEY: Hun, if you think you’re being an asshole, you are. Take my word for it.

  I exhaled heavily.

  BECKETT: At least you could have encouraged me a bit…

  In a moment, she texted me back.

  CASEY: You don’t need encouragement. You already know the answer, Beckett.

  Predictably, Casey spoke the unvarnished truth.

  BECKETT: I’m waiting to have dinner with this wonderful intelligent beautiful woman and I know I should leave and never see her again.

  I waited. She responded.

  CASEY: Then leave. Discretion is the better part of valor. Don’t break her heart. You can get laid any time you want. Don’t hurt her if she really is as wonderful as you claim.

  I was frustrated. I wanted Miranda. I wanted more to develop between us. She was more than just a fun bout of sex. An orgasm or ten. She was more and I knew it, but I couldn’t give her what she deserved.

  My cell dinged.

  CASEY: Who is the lovely woman, may I ask? You haven’t mentioned anyone spe
cial…

  I hesitated. How much truth should I tell her?

  BECKETT: She’s the wife of the man who died saving my life. She has no idea who I am…

  There was no response for a few moments and I wondered if I hadn’t finally driven Casey away.

  CASEY: You mean the widow? You fucking dick…

  There was silence for a few moments and I thought that was it. She’d hung up on me.

  CASEY: Do the right thing, Beckett. With someone like her, it’s either all in or all out. Nothing else will do. You know this. Do the right thing.

  I sighed. Of course, I already knew this. Casey was right – with someone like Miranda, I had to either commit fully or leave and never see her again. I could drop off the letters and never let her know anything more about me.

  I checked my watch. I could leave then and there, stand her up, and go back to my hotel. She’d be hurt, but so far, nothing but a few kisses and some serious flirting had happened between us. If I left now, I could get away before she arrived and she’d never know what a total selfish jerk I was…

  Then she walked onto the deck in her sexy little sundress with thin straps that hugged her delicious curves, her long red hair shining in the light from the lanterns, and I was a goner.

  I was toast.

  Every ounce of resistance drained out of me when she caught my eyes and smiled.

  Her dimples did it. I was a sucker for dimples. And the fine spray of freckles on her nose…

  I stood when she walked up and I pulled out her chair.

  “Whew,” I said and wiped my brow. “Glad you decided to join me after all. You look beautiful.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

  I sat beside her as close as possible. If I was going all in, I was going all in.

  “You look like you just came out of a meeting,” she said, eyeing me up and down.

  “I didn’t want to look too disreputable.”

  She laughed and I motioned to the waitress, who came over and took her drink order.

  “You hungry?” I asked when the waitress left.

  “Starving.”

  “Good,” I said and laid my arm on the back of her chair.

  For the next hour, I tried to draw her out about her life. We spoke about her family, about her plans to join the FBI – the usual ‘getting to know you’ material. Finally, I decided to prod her about Dan.

  “Care to talk about your husband?” I asked, wanting to get her to talk about Dan. “I see you have a gold wedding band on your middle finger. Is that his?”

  She held out her hand and looked at the ring. “Yes. I know I should take it off. It’s been almost a year, but I think I’ll wait until after the year’s up.”

  She said nothing for a moment, and then shook her head thoughtfully. “Dan and I met when I started college and he was at a party with some old friends. He enlisted and we started dating when he came back from his first deployment. We decided to get married after he redeployed and was doing some pretty dangerous stuff with special operations forces.”

  “Just in case?”

  She nodded, her face flushed. I could tell she had a hard time talking about Dan.

  “He loved what he did, but I felt incredibly afraid he’d die and we’d have never had a chance at married life. So we made plans, had everything in place, and he came home on leave and we were married. Within three months, he was dead and I was a widow.” She smiled a sad smile.

  I reached out and took her hand. “What was he like?” I asked, trying to keep my tone respectful. “If you don’t mind talking about him.”

  Then she told me about Dan. Stuff I’d gleaned from reading various comments and memories on his obituary. It made me feel even more guilty to be sitting there, deceiving her.

  How could I get out of this lie? Everything I did would end in disaster. If I confessed now, she’d be hurt and angry. If I did later, after we had sex, she’d be even more hurt and angry.

  “So what about you?” she asked. “Ever married?”

  I sat up straighter. “Nope,” I said, not wanting to get into my relationship with Sue. “I used to think I was the marrying type, but not anymore. You have your sad story? I have mine. Besides, I saw my parents get divorced and how nasty it was between them. Don’t plan on getting married or divorced any time soon, if ever.”

  She frowned. “What about family? Don’t you want kids?”

  “My whole life is my business. I wouldn’t want to have kids only to neglect them and never see them the way my father was. The only real father figure in my life was my uncle and he was great but not a real substitute.”

  “What did your father do exactly?”

  I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I took a sip of my beer. I told her as much as I wanted about my father and his business, but I wanted to turn the discussion away from me and back onto her.

  The food came and we ate with gusto, all the while exchanging little tidbits about our families. I learned more about her father, who sounded like a real stand-up guy – the kind of man I would like as a father. Solid. Strong. Upstanding. Ethical. It was something we had in common – fathers who had died too soon. I felt a sympathy for her that I didn’t feel for many people. She’d lost so much.

  We both had.

  When we finished our food, I turned to her. “Care for a walk along the beach?”

  She hesitated but then smiled. “Sure.”

  I paid the bill, refusing to let her chip in. “No way, sha,” I said laying on the Cajun charm. “This is my treat. Maybe you can cook me a meal some day when you’re back in Manhattan.”

  “I make a mean linguine agli scampi,” she said.

  I did want to see her again, back in New York. I wanted to see her every night. But I hadn’t thought it through. I didn’t want to think it through, because if I did, I knew it would end badly.

  Then we walked along the boardwalk that followed the beach, and even took off our shoes and went into the water for a dip, laughing like we were two kids on vacation. It was great, I felt completely comfortable with her, no awkward moments.

  I could get used to her.

  I pulled her into my arms and we stood together, watching the surf, enjoying the moment. I kissed her, softly. Gently. Now was the moment. I had to make a decision.

  I could drive her back to her place and say goodbye.

  Or I could jump in with both feet.

  The feel of her soft curves against me decided for me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Miranda

  We walked along the boardwalk that skirted the beach road, and listened to the sound of the surf in the distance. He held my hand and we breathed in deeply the cool salty air. It was a relief after the heat of the day.

  We stopped at a narrow walkway that led to the beach and he pulled me towards it.

  “Want to go wet our feet?” he asked.

  I laughed and kicked off my heels. “Sure,” I said, wanting to have fun for a change. Usually, I’d be afraid to be out in the darkness with a strange man, but I felt safe with Beckett. Besides, the limo was trailing along beside us.

  Beckett removed his jacket and tie, then unbuttoned his shirt before rolling up his sleeves. He removed his socks and rolled up his pant legs, and we ran down the beach towards the surf. There was a full moon out and so the foam was white and the lights along the beach road ensured we could see pretty clearly.

  I reached the edge of the surf and squealed when the water surrounded my feet and went up to my ankles.

  “Holy cow,” I said with a laugh. “That’s cold.”

  Beckett ran into the surf, laughing out loud when he was soaked up to his knees. He whooped and ran around, then splashed me when I tried to get away. Finally, we held hands once more and he pulled me against him, his other arm around me. I nestled into his embrace and we stood and watched the ocean. Moonlight glittered on the waves and the surf roared.

  Then he kissed me, one hand on my c
heek. When he pulled back, I saw the scar from the corner of my eye and couldn’t help but look at it. At first, it sent a jolt of adrenaline through me but then I looked up into his eyes, so blue and honest. I knew that I wanted him, no matter what. The scar just made him more real to me. Human. Vulnerable.

  He could have died in Afghanistan. He was brave.

  He was a hero.

  “Come back to my hotel,” he said, his voice warm and deep.

  I said nothing in reply. Instead, I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him again. When he kissed me back, I heard his sharp intake of breath, as if he didn’t think I’d agree and was surprised.

  He kissed me deeply this time, hungrily, one hand sliding down my back to stroke and then squeeze one buttock through the thin fabric of my dress. It sent a thrill of desire through my body, and my flesh throbbed in response to the thought that soon, there’d be nothing between us. I couldn’t wait to feel his hands on me, his mouth on me, and to taste him.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me up the beach to where we left our things and where the limo waited. The driver opened the door for us and I slid in with Beckett following me. I took my seat and struggled to fasten the seat belt, but he stopped me and did it for me, smiling at me when he noticed my hands shaking just a bit.

  He buckled his own seat belt, and put one arm around me on the back of the seat, pulling my face towards him for another blistering kiss. I sank into the kiss, turning off everything else in the world except for his mouth, his tongue, his hand slipping down my cheek to my shoulder and then my breast. He squeezed it, pressing it up, then he broke the kiss and bent down to kiss the top of my breasts before running his tongue up from one curve to my throat and then he nipped at my earlobe.

  All of this sent shocks of lust to my core, igniting my desire, which had lain dormant for so many months since Dan died and I was mourning him. But now, Beckett woke all that up once more and I felt alive again.