“I don’t know a subtle way to ask this,” she said after a moment, “but can you tell me what happened to Dylan?”
His features tightened, and through the dark interior, she saw his eyes go bleak. “Afghanistan. He was in the Army Rangers. Boots on the ground. They were doing a house-to-house search when a kid with an improvised explosive device decided to check out and try to take as many Rangers as he could.”
“Oh, no.”
“Things were rough on him for a while. He was drinking too much and in a pretty dark place, but then Gen came along. Who would have guessed the biggest snooty society girl in town would be just the one to rattle his cage enough to help him find his way out?”
He gave a half smile, but she still sensed his disquiet when he talked about his brother. Was that the cause of it? Could he be jealous of Dylan and Genevieve?
“Were you and Gen...ever involved?” she asked, completely on a hunch.
It was the wrong one, apparently. He shifted his gaze from the road just long enough to give her a wide-eyed, shocked stare.
“Hell, no! Gen and me? I barely knew her before she and Dylan were arrested together one night—which is a long story you’ll have to ask her about. Why would you go there?”
She shrugged, feeling foolish. “I just wondered if that’s the reason for the tension between you and your brother. I noticed it at Thanksgiving and again tonight.”
“Tension? That’s crazy. Dylan and I have always been close.”
He seemed genuinely shocked, and she said nothing, wishing she’d never brought up the subject. It was none of her business, anyway, and maybe she had completely imagined the whole thing.
“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”
“What made you think something was up between us?”
“Every time I’ve seen you together, you have this strange, tense expression, like you’re afraid he’s going to shatter in a stiff wind.”
He didn’t answer for several moments, making her again wish she hadn’t said anything. Jamie didn’t speak until he pulled up to a magnificent Victorian, roughly twice the size of Winston House.
“It’s guilt,” he finally said, his voice low.
“What is?”
“What you...may have seen in my expression. I didn’t think anyone else picked up on the vibe. Apparently I was wrong.”
“Guilt about what?”
He met her gaze, and this time she couldn’t miss the bleak shadows there. “Dylan went through hell and nearly died. And none of it would have happened, if not for me.”
She opened her mouth, shocked. He didn’t give her time to respond, cutting her off by turning back to the boys. “Here we are, guys. Let’s get you settled. We’ve got a long, hard day of playing in the snow ahead of us tomorrow.”
Even in their tired state, the boys cheered that idea and jumped out to help Jamie carry in bags.
* * *
DAVY AND CLINT were so tired from their long day at school and the added excitement of another plane ride that they were asleep almost before she finished reading their favorite story.
“Jamie’s really nice,” Davy said, his eyes sleepy and his features soft. “When I grow up, I think I want to be a pilot.”
“That sounds like a wonderful dream.” She smoothed a hand over his hair as tenderness trickled through her. Three weeks ago, she hadn’t even known these boys. Now they were becoming so very dear to her.
Rather like—
She shied away from completing that dangerous sentence. Instead, she kissed Davy on the forehead, then his brother.
“Good night, my dears.”
“Where are you sleeping?” Clint asked, suddenly concerned.
“I’ll be out in the sitting room. Jamie’s taking the bedroom.”
He wasn’t happy about it. They had argued about it earlier. She had insisted he take the bed while she could sleep on the convertible sofa, which didn’t so much as fold out as fold down, like a futon.
Jamie claimed he slept on one like this at his dad’s and was always comfortable, but she had pointed out he was taller than she. If he tried to sleep on this one, his legs would dangle over the edge. Eventually he had reluctantly given in, especially when she told him she preferred to be close enough to hear the boys if they awoke.
The sitting room between the two bedrooms was spacious, and she imagined those big windows would provide beautiful light during the day. Now, the room was in shadows, lit only by the crackling fire he must have lit in the beautiful fireplace and the flickering lights of a small, sweetly decorated artificial Christmas tree on a table in the corner.
“They get settled in okay?” Jamie asked, startling an instinctive gasp out of her.
“Oh. I didn’t see you there! I thought perhaps you went to bed.”
“Not yet. I wanted to feed the fire a bit, to make sure it would stay hot for you.”
They were alone here in this beautifully appointed, romantic room. At the realization, a soft thread of intimacy unfurled between them, twisting and tangling together. All her instincts warned her she would be wise to simply say good-night and go to bed herself, though energy still hummed through her.
“Yes. I think they’re likely sound asleep. You have to admit, this would be a pretty exciting day for any kid, jumping on an airplane at the drop of a hat and flying off for the weekend.”
“I hope you enjoyed it, too.”
“You know I did. It was amazing.”
As her face heated, she sincerely hoped she didn’t look like the giddy schoolgirl she felt.
Though she knew it probably wasn’t wise, she didn’t know where else to go, so she took the seat across from him and the fire—a plump, soft armchair she wanted to curl into with a good book.
“I love seeing your family interact,” she said. “It’s obvious they care about each other very much.”
“We’ve always been close. After our mom died of cancer, those bonds seemed to tighten more.”
“How old were you when that happened?”
She knew Katherine had only been married to Dermot a few years, but didn’t know the rest of the story about Jamie’s mother.
“I was nineteen, in college and on track to become a helicopter pilot. Only Dylan and Charlotte were left at home.”
“That must have been hard on you all. How lovely that you had each other to rely on, though.”
“I guess that’s one of the blessings of a big family. We can support each other in good times and bad. We’ve had a few of the latter but plenty of the former.”
“I can’t imagine having so many siblings. Was it wonderful?”
“Most of the time. I always felt sorry for Charlotte. She had a pretty rough go, being the only sister of six rambunctious older brothers.”
She didn’t exactly feel sorry for herself for growing up the only child of two older, settled parents. The Caine household must have been sheer chaos, but six older brothers sounded perfectly lovely to her.
“You all must have spoiled her terribly.”
“Tormented, more like. At least that’s the way she would probably tell it. We did all adore her, but we figured it was our solemn responsibility to toughen her up. As the youngest brothers, Dylan and I were probably the worst on her.”
She had been waiting for a chance to ask him about what he had said in the car after the dinner. While she didn’t want to ruin this soft intimacy between them, she sensed he needed to talk about it.
“What did you mean before? When you said you felt responsible for Dylan’s injury.”
That muscle flexed in his jaw again, and for a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire. Finally he sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t have said that. Forget it, okay?”
&nb
sp; She couldn’t do that. Now that he had raised the issue, she found she wanted to know more. “Jamie. What happened? Why would you even imagine you might be responsible? You weren’t there, were you?”
“That was the whole point. I wasn’t where I should have been.”
He gazed at her, then at the Christmas tree. “We were both stationed in the same region, both in the army, though our experiences were very different. He was a boots-on-the-ground guy, special forces. In the heat of the action. I was a chopper pilot, flying guys from base to base and trying to stay out of trouble. I wasn’t very good at it. Staying out of trouble, I mean.”
“What happened?”
“Though we were in different countries, Dylan and I were both supposed to have leave around the same time. That rarely happened for us. Since it was the holidays and we didn’t really have time to go home, we decided to do the next best thing and meet up in Qatar, hang out with friends, maybe meet some women.”
She could imagine the two gorgeous Caine brothers would have no trouble finding women, wherever they were.
“It didn’t happen?”
“No. Because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I got in trouble with my commanding officer for insubordination. He was an idiot, always putting guys in stupid, dangerous situations, and one day I had enough and let him have it. As a result, he wrote me up and yanked my leave a few days before I was supposed to meet up with Dylan. I was able to get in touch with him through his unit and told him he should go ahead to Qatar without me since we already had the hotel rooms, but he decided to reschedule his leave for another time, on the chance he could match mine.”
His expression was suddenly bleak, distant. “He wasn’t supposed to be on that mission. If I had only kept my mouth shut for once, Dylan and I would have been sitting by a luxury hotel pool in Doha having drinks with a couple of beautiful junior officers in bikinis. Instead, he signed up to head into the field and ended up being the target of a twelve-year-old suicide bomber.”
His voice was hollow, filled with regret, and it took all of her strength to keep her fingers curled together on her lap instead of reaching out to comfort him.
“Do you really think Dylan blames you for his injuries?” she asked.
“How could he not?”
She didn’t know Dylan well, but remembered him at dinner talking to Davy and Clint, teasing his sister, looking adoringly at his wife. How could he possibly hold a grudge against his brother for something over which Jamie had no control?
“I won’t believe it,” she said firmly. “You weren’t responsible for what that boy did. Nor were you responsible for Dylan’s decision to go on that mission in the first place. I think you’re taking entirely too much on your shoulders. Give yourself a break, Jamie.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SHE DID NOT know the worst of it. Jamie shifted in his chair. The ghosts that had haunted him when he returned to Hope’s Crossing seemed to hover ever closer.
Someone as sweet and kind as Julia would never understand how a man’s choices could sometimes ride his tail.
Yeah, he blamed himself for Dylan’s injuries. Though his brother seemed to have come to terms with all he had lost serving his country and had carved out a pretty damn good life for himself here with Gen, Jamie couldn’t accept it with the same equanimity. He remembered Dylan as he had been, strong and whole, fun-loving and filled with life. When he looked at his brother, he saw everything Dylan had lost.
Jamie was the older brother. Pop had told him before their last deployment together to watch over Dylan. So what if they weren’t serving in the same unit—hell, not even the same country? That didn’t matter. From the time they were toddlers, his parents used to always charge him with keeping an eye out for Dylan, and he considered it his responsibility.
He had failed spectacularly to take care of someone he loved. That was nothing new, though, simply the latest in a long string of failures.
He shouldn’t have brought Julia here. What had seemed like a good idea at the time now appeared fraught with emotional land mines.
She had asked why he didn’t settle in Hope’s Crossing. He hadn’t lied. He did love the recreational opportunities Haven Point could provide, and it made perfect sense to be close to Aidan and his Caine Tech facility there.
He hadn’t told her everything, about the regrets that followed him like those ghosts.
“You should talk to your brother, tell him how you’re feeling,” Julia said now. “He would probably be the first one to assure you he doesn’t blame you for what happened to him.”
He tried to imagine having that conversation with Dylan and couldn’t see it. “Maybe.”
“Do it. Trust me, life is too short to regret the things you didn’t say to the people you care about.”
What regrets did she carry? He wanted to ask about her own secrets, but he had a compelling need to return the conversation to the fun, lighthearted repartee with which he was most comfortable. He didn’t want to think about Dylan or Lisa or any of his other regrets. It was far easier to fall back on old habits.
“I’m sure there’s some truth to that,” he said with a well-practiced smile. “While we’re talking about regrets, let me say that I would regret forever if I didn’t tell you how lovely you look. Hope’s Crossing agrees with you, Julia Winston.”
Those remarkable eyes looked huge in her features as she gazed at him for a long moment. He saw awareness spark to life there, as bright and glittering as the crackling fire.
He could kiss her right now, here in front of the fireplace and the cheerful Christmas tree. It would be so very easy. All he had to do was reach out a hand and tug her from her chair to his lap. He could slip his hand into her hair, feel the silk slide against his skin, draw her mouth closer to his...
As he imagined it, Jamie felt his body stir to life. It constantly astonished him, how fiercely attracted he was to this plain, quiet librarian.
She probably wouldn’t push him away. That tantalizing thought seemed to writhe through his awareness. Suddenly, it became the only thing he could think about.
She let out a tiny, gasping sort of breath, then her eyes narrowed.
“I know what you’re doing.” Her voice was tight, suddenly, mirroring the suspicion in her eyes.
“You do?” He wished she would share, since he hadn’t been sure what the hell he was doing since the afternoon he moved in to Julia Winston’s house.
“I’m on to your secrets,” she said. “Whenever you want to divert a woman’s attention and keep her from getting too close to the heart of who you are, you whip out the old charm sledgehammer and bash her over the head with it.”
“Interesting but oddly violent analogy.”
“I don’t know how else to describe it. With a few well-chosen words and that killer smile of yours, you take an otherwise rational woman and leave her dazed and bewildered. It’s quite fascinating to watch.”
“You sound like something of an expert,” he drawled. Was he supposed to be flattered or insulted by her observation? He wasn’t used to women who could see so clearly past his charm. It made him wonder if she had been studying him all this time, rather like he was some sort of rare, bizarre creature she stumbled over in the wild.
He wondered if she knew how much he loved to see her blush, that little tint of color in her cheeks he wanted to kiss away.
“I simply try to study the world around me,” she said pertly.
“What else did you learn about me?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer.
“I know you love your family above everything—even flying, which is your passion. I know you’re much kinder than you want people to know. And I know you long for something you don’t have, but you’re not entirely sure what that is.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so
he fell back on what she said he used as a shield. “You sound like something of an expert, Ms. Winston. You should know, then, that at this particular moment, what I’m longing for isn’t a mystery at all.”
He offered up that smile she was talking about and was delighted when she blushed.
“See? You’re doing it again. Trying to distract me by throwing out your Jamie Caine mojo.”
He laughed. “Is it working?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her tone exasperated. “I’ll tell you when I can think again.”
That was it. He had to kiss her. He tugged her toward him. “Why don’t we both stop thinking, just for a few moments?” he said, then covered her mouth with his.
He had been dreaming of her mouth for days, since their one heated encounter. The reality was so much better than his memory. Her mouth was sweet and warm, and she again sighed when he kissed her, as if she had been waiting for exactly this moment. She smelled delicious, something flowery and light and sweet.
He found the unexpectedness of her, this secret, passionate side, incredibly seductive.
When he finally managed to find the strength to ease his mouth away, both of their breathing was ragged, and he was achy and hard.
Jamie didn’t know what the hell to do about it. He could handle his attraction to her, but this soft, strange emotion surging through him as he held her was something else entirely.
He tried for nonchalance. “So. What did you learn there, Ms. Winston?”
She blinked at him, eyes slightly unfocused. “That you kiss really, really well—something I believe I’ve already discovered.”
Did she know how much she made him laugh? Or how very much she intrigued him?
“So do you,” he responded. “A little too well. You make it difficult to go to my room, when I would really love to keep kissing you all night.”
That wasn’t entirely true. He was a healthy, red-blooded guy. What he really wanted involved much more than kissing. He wanted to spend hours exploring that luscious mouth, then move on to every other delectable inch of her—exactly why he needed to say good night.
Sugar Pine Trail--A Small-Town Holiday Romance Page 18