by JM Stewart
“Somebody’s avoiding the issue.” Becca stepped around the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room, her voice singsong as she leaned back against the edge.
When Malia shot Becca a playful glare, Cecelia stifled a giggle, her nerves temporarily distracted by the warmth and playfulness pervading the room. Okay, so maybe she’d also come for the sense of closeness and affection she found here.
“Time for another batch of mai tais.” Evan’s deep voice preceded him into the kitchen. Wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt that matched Malia’s skirt, he stepped around Becca, an empty glass pitcher in one hand, winking as he passed her. “Bunch of lushes, the lot of you.”
Following him in, Becca mouthed off, but Cecelia’s mind wandered too far to focus on what she’d actually said. Instead, the two siblings, side by side, caught her attention. It amazed her how different, yet so much alike, they were. Evan and Chase, the oldest of the four, had the dark hair, a deep chestnut brown. Being a sandy blond, Becca had the lightest, which put Kyle’s golden brown in the middle. Though they all shared a prominent nose and some form of the bluish-gray eyes, Chase’s and Evan’s were grayer. Kyle’s and Becca’s were bluer. Cecelia wondered what their father looked like. Did they resemble him more than their mother, Georgia?
She put a hand to her stomach, imagining the tiny baby within. Seeing them also made her wonder what her baby would look like. She had no idea what genes she’d pass on to her child. Gran had had dark hair, but for all she knew, her child would end up with flaming red hair from a distant grandparent somewhere.
Determination swelled in her chest as she eyed Becca and Evan again. She had to find her parents, whatever the result. She wanted her child to have what these people had, what she’d missed growing up, a sense of roots. Even if it turned out Kyle was right and she didn’t like what she found, she’d still know, and maybe the emptiness inside would finally heal.
“You really are no fun, Evan.” Becca caught Cecelia’s eye and nodded in the direction of the sliding glass doors that led out onto the back deck. “Come on. We’re not getting anything out of these two.”
Cecelia followed Becca out onto the deck lining the back of the house, unable to help smiling at the sight that greeted her. Malia always went all out for these get-togethers. The place looked spectacular. Tiki torches created a glowing perimeter. Soft, mellow Hawaiian music wafted from speakers overhead. Fern fronds, loose flowers, and long, oblong green leaves Malia once told her were called ti leaves all covered the two picnic tables in the yard.
Cecelia and Becca joined the others seated at the round, wooden patio table on the left end of the deck. As Cecelia took a seat across from Lila, the sight of Georgia and Chase caught her. Georgia was a small woman with long, thin limbs. She had bright blue eyes, and her hair was all gray now, hanging down her back in a neat braid. Georgia had always said she was determined to grow old gracefully. Memory reminded Cecelia that her thick locks had originally been a medium brown shade, closer to Chase’s and Evan’s. She’d never seen any pictures of him, but Kyle and Becca obviously must have gotten their lighter coloring from their father.
Cecelia couldn’t help but wonder now. Did it bother Kyle to know he looked like a man he hated? Kyle was determined to be everything his father wasn’t. He’d gotten the attitude from Evan. Being a military man, Evan had a strict adherence to rules and a set way he thought the world should work. It made him dependable, a trait that had rubbed off on all the siblings over the years.
Chase’s wife, Lila, peered across the table at Becca, a mischievous gleam in her green eyes. “You get anything out of Malia?”
Becca shook her head as she took her seat. “Nope. They’ve both clammed up tight.”
Cecelia half listened to the two women as they discussed possibilities and Malia’s previous pregnancies, as her gaze fell on Chase. He sat on Lila’s other side, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes closed. The two had married a couple of years ago. Chase, like Kyle, had joined the police force as soon as he was old enough. He quit five years ago when his partner lost his life bringing down a dirty cop. Chase picked up private investigating instead. It was how he’d met Lila. From a wealthy family, she’d hired him to find her half sister.
If Kyle wouldn’t help her find the answers she needed, no doubt Chase would. She didn’t like the notion of having to ask him, though. It meant she had to give up on being able to depend on Kyle. But she’d take what she could get. Besides, Chase was good at his job.
Cecelia opened her mouth, the question forming on her tongue, but a low chuckle from the other end of the deck caught her attention and the words died in her throat. Kyle. His voice had haunted her dreams last night.
Her heart began a fierce, erratic beat as her eyes located the source of the deep, rich sound. He stood in the open sliding glass doors, talking to Malia, who greeted him by draping a lei around his neck.
“Oh Lord.” Becca’s voice shook with restrained laughter. “He had to wear that shirt.”
Cecelia couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped as she eyed the garment in question. Kyle’s choice of attire was an obnoxious Hawaiian-style shirt. It was sea-blue and covered in little tropical islands, ukuleles, and flower leis.
“Kyle’s contribution to the celebratory theme.” Eyeing him, Cecelia leaned forward to rest her chin in her hand.
He wore one like it for every luau Evan and Malia threw, and like every other time, the shirt suited his obvious mood. He always seemed more relaxed and playful around his family, the invisible wall he kept around himself gone. She liked him this way. He was irresistible, charming.
When his head turned in her direction, her pulse skipped a beat, and she jerked her gaze to the yard. Suddenly, she didn’t want to know how he’d react to seeing her today. Would he treat her like he always had? Kiss her cheek, say hello, sit down, and chat with the rest of them? Or would she see the same soft, subtle heat that had been in his eyes yesterday? She didn’t know if she could handle seeing the shared remembrance of their kiss written on his face, if only because she didn’t want to know how she’d react.
Moments later, a large shadow fell across her face. Her hands automatically began to tremble. She didn’t need to see him to know it was Kyle. His presence filled the surrounding air until all she could think or breathe was him.
“Hey, guys. Ceci.”
The low, rough timbre of his voice as he said her name sent her stomach into a riotous mass of butterflies. Rich and smooth, that voice went to her head in an exhilarating rush and made her feel every bit as drunk as one of Evan’s mai tais. In her dreams last night, Kyle had whispered sweet nothings to her in the dark . . .
She willed away the wicked thoughts and peered at him. She forced a smile and opened her mouth, but her tongue clogged in her dry throat. All she managed to squeak out was, “Hi.”
Holding her prisoner with an expression she couldn’t begin to interpret, he leaned over, resting his right hand on the table. He was so close his warm breath fanned her lips, and her gaze dropped to his mouth. She swallowed hard. God, if he kissed her right now, no way would she able to resist him.
“Malia said you needed one of these.” He pulled a small flower from behind his back. It was pink and white, and she knew from previous celebrations, they were meant to be tucked behind the ear. Each of the gals had one. According to the tradition Malia shared with them years ago, tucking it behind her right ear would mean he considered them friends. Behind her left would mean he laid claim to her heart.
She held her breath and waited. She couldn’t be certain anymore which side she’d rather he tuck it on. The rational side of her brain wanted her best friend back, but butterflies tumbled in her stomach. When he tucked the flower behind her right ear, though, she couldn’t stop the disappointment that sank inside of her, but the subtle heat in his eyes didn’t escape her notice. It didn’t help that his fingers lingered a fraction of a second too long on her skin.
“Much better,�
�� he murmured softly, his intense gaze holding her captive. His eyes darkened to the color of rain clouds, boring into her, and one finger brushed her earlobe as he pulled his hand away. By accident, or on purpose, she couldn’t be sure, but an answering shudder swept the length of her spine.
She couldn’t seem to make her brain work long enough to say something in return. What shocked and frightened her most was how badly she wanted to close the measly inches separating them and capture his mouth again.
The wind shifted then, bringing the acrid scent of smoke and the cooking meat from the grill in their direction. The smell turned her already queasy stomach. Pregnancy had made her extra sensitive to smells. Things that normally wouldn’t bother her turned her stomach on a dime. Like now. Bile rose up the back of her throat.
“Oh God. I think I’m going to be sick.” Cecelia jumped to her feet, clamped a hand over her mouth, and made a beeline for the house. “Excuse me.”
***
Kyle’s gut knotted as he watched Ceci disappear into the shadows of the house. That was the second time in less than twenty-four hours she’d run from him. Oh, logically, he knew it was likely morning sickness this time, but he couldn’t forget the confusion and uncertainty in her eyes right before she’d leapt from her seat. The sensation left a bad taste in his mouth.
He shouldn’t have touched her. Giving her that flower had been a spur-of-the-moment idea. Malia left a bowl of them on the kitchen table and casually mentioned that Ceci didn’t have one. He hadn’t been able to help himself. Giving her that flower was an excuse to talk to her. He’d called her several times last night, but she hadn’t returned any of them. He knew coming tonight things would be awkward between them, and he was right.
But damn, she looked so beautiful sitting there. The memory of their kiss the day before had him turned inside out. Letting his fingers linger on her skin wasn’t the smartest idea he’d ever had, but he had to touch her, to know how she’d react when he did. His body simply obeyed. Heck, these days, his body did whatever it wanted, and it wanted her. Badly.
“You should go check on her, Ky. She turned down a mai tai, earlier, and she loves them. She must be sick.”
Becca nudged his arm with an elbow, and he became aware of three pairs of eyes boring holes into his head. No way had they missed the exchange between him and Ceci. He didn’t have to wonder what they thought, either. As he straightened, glancing around the table, Becca cocked a playful brow, and Lila flashed a smug smile, like they’d figured out his and Ceci’s relationship had changed.
His mother smiled, soft but delighted all the same, like somehow she’d known all along. “Go check on her, sweetie. You might need to take her home.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He nodded, pivoted toward the house, and followed Ceci.
As he neared the bathroom door, the awful retching sounds coming from within confirmed his suspicions. In a weird sort of way, it was a relief. He hated that she was sick, but it meant, at least for the time being, that she hadn’t run from him. He’d caused her enough torment already.
He rapped a knuckle on the door. “Ceci? You okay?”
She sucked in a sharp breath, a sound not unlike someone who’d been underwater for too long, then let out a long groan. “Oh, peachy.”
His heart twisted. He leaned against the door frame. “Can I get you anything?”
The toilet flushed, followed seconds later by running water. When she finally yanked the door open, he jumped. She darted a glance around as if checking for eavesdroppers. “Crackers. I need crackers.”
He nodded in the direction of the kitchen, off to their right. “I think I know where to find some of those. Come on.”
Ceci fell in step beside him, an uncomfortable silence falling between them as they wound through the rooms to the kitchen. She held herself stiff, peering over at him every once in a while, then blushing when she caught him watching her.
Desperate to ease the tension, he shot her a soft smile as they rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. Luckily, the room was empty. Malia had brought the pineapple outside. Evan had followed her out carrying a fresh pitcher of mai tais. Which meant they were alone for the time being. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
If at all possible, she drew up straighter. “Evan’s like a brother to me, and Malia’s the big sister I never had. I’m here for them.”
As hard as he tried to ignore it, the hidden meaning in her words screamed and made his heart ache. Guilt shuddered inside of him. She had to feel betrayed.
“Has it really gotten that bad between us?” He crossed to the pantry and pulled open the door, scanning for a box of crackers.
She didn’t say anything for so long he finally turned to look at her. She stared at him, confusion shining from the depths of her eyes. He wanted to take her hands, beg her to talk to him, but wasn’t sure she’d let him anymore. He didn’t think he could stand it if she shrank away from him again.
She made the decision for him when she turned away, moving to another cabinet to pull out a small glass. “You didn’t tell them about the baby, did you?”
Her lack of response said more than if she’d actually answered the question. As misery washed over him, he let his shoulders slump. He’d made a mess of their relationship and hadn’t a clue how to fix it. Rewinding time and taking back the kiss wasn’t possible. Truth be told, he didn’t want to. He was sorry as hell for the turmoil he’d caused her, but he’d done a lot of thinking while lying in bed last night, staring at the ceiling, and he’d come to one conclusion. How could he ever be sorry for something that lodged inside of him as being so . . . right? No other woman he’d dated ever felt so right in his arms. Like she belonged there. And Ceci did. She belonged there every bit as much as his nose belonged on his face.
“No.” With a quiet sigh, he turned back to the pantry. “It’s not my place to tell them.”
“Thank you.” She crossed to the sink and filled the glass, then turned and leaned back against the counter. She lifted the glass to her lips but paused before taking a sip. “I haven’t decided what, when, or how to tell them.”
“What do you mean?” Scanning the pantry, he found a box of butter crackers but no saltines. “All they have is Ritz.”
“Anything’s fine.” She took a sip of water. “It’s just to help settle my stomach. And I meant what I said.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you almost sound scared.” He closed the pantry door and carried the crackers to her.
“I am scared.” She didn’t look at him but turned to the box in his hands and reached inside, pulling out a wax-paper-wrapped stack of crackers. Her voice came as a bare whisper.
“Why?” Deciding he had to do something to help ease her fears, he dared a step closer and leaned his hip against the counter beside her.
“If I tell them about the baby, I’ll have to tell them what happened with Jimmy.” She drew a deep breath and turned her back to him again, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know if I can do that.”
The smallness of her voice, the pain and embarrassment so evident in her admission, made his heart twist. This time he didn’t hesitate to reach out to her. She needed him, as her best friend.
He set his hands on her shoulders, letting them rest there in a show of support. “Nobody’s going to judge you. God knows we’ve all made mistakes. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“This is a big mistake. I went and did exactly what Gran always warned me not to. I trusted the wrong person. Look where it got me.” She shook her head. “I’m just not ready to tell your family. Not yet.”
“Everybody here loves you.” Every bit as much as he did. “Despite what you may believe, you’re family. People make mistakes. Do you remember when Becca admitted she was divorcing Jackson? It took her weeks to drum up the courage, for exactly the same reason. She was embarrassed. She told me she felt like a failure. Look how that turned out. I guarantee nobody’s going to judge or blame you. We’ve al
l been there. I can almost guarantee you’ll have three very willing females to help you think of nasty things to say about Jimmy and, if I know Becca, an offer to beat him up.”
Ceci let out a quiet, breathless laugh that washed over him, filling the emptiness that had sank in his chest when she’d stormed from his apartment yesterday. It was a tiny thing, but it was a small step toward getting back what they’d lost.
The need to hold her became too strong to deny any longer. He slid his hands down her arms and looped them around her waist. Three years ago, before his feelings for her changed, he wouldn’t have hesitated and what they needed right now—what she needed—was to feel “normal” again. She needed to know he’d always be on her side.
To his complete surprise, she leaned back against him, her hands sliding along his arms, where they rested at her waist. The full press of her body against his was equal parts bliss and torment. She was exactly where he wanted her, where he needed her, with every delicious inch of her soft body pressed against him, from her backside against his pelvis down to her lean, taut thighs.
He gritted his teeth against the onslaught of sensation. Not trusting himself to leave it at that, he released his hold on her waist and gripped her shoulders instead, to help steady her as he stepped back. She turned to face him, a war raging in the depths of her eyes. Confusion and hurt, concern and a touch of curiosity that made his heart flip-flop. The pain and confusion struck like a blow to the stomach. He had to fix this, or die trying, because that look on her face made his chest ache.
Just that fast, the idea flitted through his mind. He’d have to make sacrifices, but it would give her the security she needed. The question was, could he do it? Yet even as he asked the silent question, the answer came just as easily. He had to try. Simply because he’d do anything for her, and this was such a small thing on his part. The question now was, would she accept?
He slipped his hands into his pockets. “So, let them think the baby’s mine.”