by Gwyn McNamee
"Okay." He pulls her hand to his mouth and kisses the back.
Ugh. They are so disgustingly adorable and in love.
I can practically feel the love they have for each other radiating from where they sit a foot away from me. I should be happy for them, especially after everything they’ve been through. We still don't know all the details of what went down last year. Everyone has been keeping their mouths shut about the shooting of Uncle Dom’s men, but we know Dani, Savage, and Gabe were there. No matter how many times Storm, Stone, or I ask Savage, he just won’t talk, and Mom doesn’t even bother to ask. We all know Dom’s involved in some questionable stuff, but he’s good to us, and she would rather live in blissful ignorance than have to admit he may not be squeaky clean.
Whatever happened, it was bad. We know that much. Three people died and the media basically swept it under the rug saying it was a police operation against organized crime. But no details were released—all very hush-hush and super sketchy. No explanation whatsoever as to why Gabe, Savage, or Dani would have been there.
The wedding was a new beginning for Savage and Dani, and the beginning of the weirdness between me and Gabe that threatens to make today utterly unbearable.
Danika stands and immediately wobbles, grabbing her head in one hand and trying to steady herself on Savage’s shoulder with the other.
"Dani? You okay? What's wrong?" Savage's voice is laced with panic. I jump up and wrap my arm around her to help her balance, taking her wrist so I can check her pulse.
"I'm okay. I just stood up too fast, and I haven’t eaten today. Maybe a drink of water or juice or something would be a good idea."
Storm appears behind Savage. "Everything all right?"
Dani’s pulse is normal, and I release her when she seems stable on her feet. “Yes, she just got a little dizzy. She hasn’t eaten today. Why don't you take her into the kitchen and get her something to eat?" Storm nods her agreement and takes Dani’s hand, leading her back to the house with Savage close on their heels.
I drop back onto the chaise and am about to return to my less-than-blissful relaxation, when the hair on my arms stands on end and tingles ripple along my skin. Turning toward the house, I find Gabe stepping from the backdoor. Even with his sunglasses on, I can feel his eyes boring into me, stripping me bare even though I’m already practically naked in my itty-bitty string bikini.
My skin heats instantly, and I look away quickly, reaching for my drink as both a distraction and to hopefully help numb my fraying nerves knowing he’s here.
Empty. Shit.
I recline on the chaise, rest my arm across my forehead, and try to regain my composure as my blood pressure rises. At least he isn’t half-naked like he usually is when we’re hanging out by the pool. If I had to watch him walk around in nothing but board shorts all afternoon—all muscles and tats and that fucking nipple ring—I would spontaneously combust.
Even though I tried to avert my gaze as fast as possible, I couldn’t help but notice his long-sleeve, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and the collar flipped up. Definitely a strange choice with his khaki cargo shorts on a ninety-five degree day; he must be sweltering.
At least he’s suffering as much as I am.
Angelina squeals and races past me, squirting me with her water gun. I shriek when the cold water hits my hot skin, and I whip off my sunglasses and glower at her. She pauses a few feet from me, gun raised and pointed in my direction, ready for another attack or to run if need be.
Game on, little girl!
I grin at her, and she giggles.
"You little brat, I am so going to get you." I rise and step toward her slowly, and she squeals again before she takes off running around the pool toward the deep end where Ben watches her, laughing at my expense.
"Angel, no running." She stops immediately at her father’s warning and glances back at me as I close the distance between us rapidly. With another giggle, she leaps into the pool, splashing Ben before her floaty arms cause her to pop to the surface with a laugh.
I can't suppress my smile no matter how foul my mood. That kid is fucking adorable. The result of yet another blissfully happy relationship. Although, Storm and Ben aren't nearly as obvious as Savage and Danika. I think the newness wore off about the time Angelina was born, but the love is still very much there; I can see it every time they look at each other.
I need another drink.
At least if Star were here, I’d have someone to be miserable and alone with. Although, I never felt alone when she was alive.
Ben pulls Angelina from the water and towels her off. Gabe and Savage man the grill on the corner of the patio and seem oblivious to the vicious assault that just occurred.
A swim sounds like the second-best option since Mom is acting like the alcohol police today. I wander over to edge of the pool and take a deep breath before diving into the cool, crisp water, praying it will wash away the annoyance, awkwardness, loneliness, jealousy, and anger currently consuming me.
Skye dives into the water, barely causing a splash when she disappears from view and takes my breath with her. She steals it every single time we’re in the same space. I’d have given anything to have been able to bow out of this barbeque today, but I can't disappoint the woman who is basically my mother, and I can't avoid Skye the rest of my life. After all, she is family, in a way.
And therein lies the problem.
I’ve been trying to put my finger on the exact moment things changed between us. The easy answer would be the wedding. I knew she was struggling—seeing Savage and Danika so happy, the first big family event without Star here—everything had to be slow, agonizing torture for Skye.
The moment the ceremony ended, she disappeared, only to return for the photos a half-hour later smelling like whiskey with glassy, red, puffy eyes. I prayed the photographer would be able to retouch the pictures so Savage and Dani weren't faced with Skye's misery every time they remembered their big day.
Frankly, I don't know how she made it through the reception—probably with the help of the free-flowing champagne, or something stronger. When I finally noticed she was gone, I went on a search and finally found her sobbing alone on the patio. By then, she was lost and there was no bringing her back. Picking her up from the floor and carrying her to my room seemed like a good idea at the time since she was incoherent, and I had no fucking clue where her room key was.
She curled into me the moment I touched her, burying her face against my neck. Her tears trickled down my skin. When I entered my room and laid her on the bed, I thought she was gone to the world. But she resisted my attempt to pull my arms from around her and clung to me, wrapping her arms around my neck, as if her life depended on it.
"Skye, you're okay, try to get some sleep."
I grasped her wrists, trying to remove her hands from my neck, but she tugged me closer, her swollen, red-rimmed eyes boring into mine. "Gabe…" Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but she said my name like a benediction.
"Skye…don't…" I tried again to free myself from her physically, but the pain written across her face wouldn't let me pull away.
She shook her head and inclined closer to me. "You’ve always been my rescuer. You’ve always been here for me, even when you were thousands of miles away. I need you now, more than ever." She leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to pull away.
But, I didn’t.
Instead, I let her press her lips to mine and did nothing to stop her from deepening the kiss until her hands were buried in my hair, holding me in place with a strength I didn't know she possessed.
Somehow, despite the fog enveloping my brain, reality slammed into me. I jerked away, pulling out of her grasp and stepping back from the bed—her wide, confused eyes following my retreat.
"I…I'm sorry…I…" Words failed me as I stared at her—no longer a little girl, no longer just Savage's little sister. She was all woman, and she was hurting in a way I could never
understand. I shook my head, turned, and fled the room without glancing back.
Maybe I made the wrong choice. God knows I’ve second-guessed my decision to leave her every day since then. Especially when I realized I’d never be able to look at her the same way again.
A flash of my solo session in the shower this morning has me cringing inwardly.
Aww, hell…
If I’m being honest, things changed between us long before that night, when she started writing me during my deployments. The whole Hawke family wrote me. It’s not like I was getting anything from dear ol’ Dad, and that’s the way I wanted it.
Their letters kept me up-to-date with the people who had become my family and the world around them. They kept me connected. But, as the girls grew, their letters to me changed. Star was always so cerebral. She asked me the tough questions, and I was always able to tell her anything. Star was my confessor, but Skye, she was my escape from everything going on around me. She talked about her life, school, and asked advice on boys and dating. Things she should have been talking to Savage about, but she had never felt comfortable going to him with her problems, and I can’t really say I blamed her. Even at that age, Savage was a control freak and would have undoubtedly tried to interfere where he wasn’t wanted or needed. She kept my mind off the things that would have driven me mad and, in the process, made me feel like I wasn’t so alone.
I never felt closer to her than when I was thousands of miles away.
Why? Who the hell knows?
Mrs. Hawke always treated me like a member of the family, but I never thought of any of the Hawke girls as sisters, not really. I would die for them, or kill, and they know that, but I was also able to appreciate the beautiful women they eventually became. And I knew she was no longer the fifteen-year-old girl she had been when I left for boot camp after high school graduation.
I just never thought I would have this kind of a reaction to one of my best friend's little sisters.
The crystal blue water of the pool returns to smooth, glassy perfection.
Skye hasn't surfaced yet.
"Gabe!" Storm's voice draws my attention away from the water, and I turn to her.
"What?"
She steps from the sliding glass door of the house and approaches me, pointing to the grill. "You going to flip those burgers?"
I follow her eyes to the grill and scramble to flip them all before we end up eating some very well-done meat. "Sorry, got it."
How long did I space out for?
As soon as the meat is safe, I return my attention to the water. Still no Skye. I'm not worried, not really. Skye was an all-state swimmer in high school and is as at home in the water as she is on dry land. But, still, she has been down there a while…
Setting the tongs on the side of the grill, I glance over at Storm, who’s busy setting the table with plates and silverware. "Hey, can you watch the burgers? I’m going to let Skye know it’s almost time to eat." She nods in agreement and heads toward the grill as I set off toward the pool.
Good excuse, Gabe. Real smooth.
I groan inwardly and run my hands back through my hair. It’s longer than I normally keep it. I’m so used to having it high and tight, I usually never let it get like this, but I’ve been insanely busy, not to mention distracted, since the wedding.
When I reach the edge of the pool, I see her lying on the bottom. Her black curls spreads around her like a dark halo, and her cornflower blue eyes stare into the sunny sky.
Fuck…she’s not moving.
She blinks and shifts up onto her feet before pushing off the bottom and swimming toward the shallow end of the pool where I’m waiting.
I don't know if she saw me through the water, but as she emerges, she seems oblivious to my presence—her head dropped back, eyes closed, face turned to the sun. Water flows off her body, trickling down the flat expanse of her stomach and long, lean legs. She shakes her head and slides her hands back through her hair, wringing it out as she walks toward the stairs.
Her eyes open and immediately find me. She assesses me, and her mouth turns down slightly.
As if it isn’t bad enough I can’t escape him in my dreams, now I’m stuck here with him in all his glorious flesh all afternoon.
I’ve been avoiding Gabe like the plague ever since the wedding. Unfortunately, Sunday family dinners, or barbeques, are not optional. The agony of his rejection stabs at me over and over again just being in his proximity, at least once a week.
Joy of fucking joys.
The cool water of the pool is doing nothing to temper the flame on my skin. When I opened my eyes on the bottom of the pool and found him watching me—his image wavering through the water—I would have given anything to be able to stay down there eternally.
But eventually, someone would have jumped in to save me—with my fucking luck, it would have been Gabe. And then, I would have had to feel his smooth skin and tight as fuck muscles pressed against my body as he swam up with me, and God knows I can’t survive that.
I slowly step toward him, unable to tear my eyes away even though all I want to do is swim back to the bottom and wait until my lungs burn again. He appraises me through his sunglasses and then reaches up and nudges them down his nose so I can finally see his eyes.
The sea green storm staring back at me surprises me, and I momentarily halt my approach.
Why does he look so pissed? Or is it annoyed? Or confused?
His intense gaze holds mine for a moment before he pushes his glasses back up and clears his throat, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Uh, food’s almost ready.”
“Thanks.” I mumble my response and ascend the stairs, brushing past him without making eye contact again.
I swear, that man’s eyes have hypnotic powers.
My towel is draped over the back of the chaise I’ve been lounging on, and I beeline for it, desperate to put as much distance between myself and that beautiful, frustrating hunk of man meat as possible.
I grab it and quickly dry off, bending down to reach my legs. A strange groaning noise floats across the water to me, and I whip around, searching for the source. Gabe has returned to the grill, and he’s focused on piling the burgers on a plate. No one else is looking in my direction.
Must have imagined it.
I wrap the towel around my waist, pop my sunglasses back on, grab my phone, and make my way to the covered patio. It’s inevitable. I just can’t avoid him, or the awkwardness, anymore.
There’s an open seat at the table between Savage and Storm. I rush to it before anyone else can take it, forcing me to sit closer to the source of my daily torture.
Gabe arrives with a platter of burgers and reaches to the center of the table to set it down. I find myself unable to stop ogling the flexing muscles of his forearms and the twinge in my core makes me clench my teeth.
Every fucking time I see him.
He sits across from me, between Mom and Ben, and everyone starts passing the dishes and chatting.
I avoid any of the conversations. I don’t want to hear about Savage and Dani’s baby or Storm and Ben’s new house any more today—I just can’t deal.
How could you leave me here alone with these people?
Things were so much easier when Star was around. I never had to force myself to converse with anyone, and no one bothered to try to make me because Star was always there, ready to jump in and engage everyone. She knew I needed my space, and since she died, things have only grown more unbearable.
My family practically smothers me with love and attention. I know they mean well—they’re just concerned about me. But sometimes, it feels like I’m drowning—that same burning in my lungs and foggy head I get when I stay at the bottom of the pool too long. If only I hadn’t blown off the ski trip for that dumbass, Aaron. I would have been in that car…
“Skye, did you hear me?”
I hear my name but completely missed whatever came before that. “Huh? Oh, sorry, no. What?”
Mom eyes me judgmentally for a moment before she continues, “I was just telling everyone that Stone called a few minutes ago and said he is coming for a visit next weekend. Apparently, he has some business to take care of with Dom.”
Gabe, Savage, and Dani all stiffen, and a look passes between them that tells me they are less than pleased with the news Stone is going to be meeting with Dom. I, on the other hand, am thrilled he’s coming.
Thank God!
He is the only one left in this family who actually gets me and doesn’t push me to be someone I’m not.
“Oh, that’s awesome. I’ll call him later and find out his plans.” I’m definitely going to need some serious one-on-one time with him so I can vent. Why does he have to live in fucking California? We need lawyers in Louisiana, too.
The awkward glances between Savage, Dani, and Gabe continue, but I know I’ll never get any information out of them, especially in front of Mom, so I concentrate on my lunch and take a bite of my burger.
Gabe leans forward and reaches across the table to grab the potato salad. The collar of his shirt shifts toward one side, exposing the now-obvious reason for his odd apparel today—a giant hickey on his collarbone.
My body temperature skyrockets in a second, and the bite of the burger I just took sits like lead in my throat. I swallow it down and grit my teeth together.
I wonder what whore gave him that…
“…I swear he was on something…”
“What? No, he was just tired and overworked and letting loose a little.”
The conversation between Mom and Storm makes its way through the green wall of jealousy, and I know they are talking about Stone and the wedding.
Of course he was on something.
But it’s not like either of us were out of control. Stone was in-check and so was I…well, until I had my breakdown and threw myself at Gabe.
“Stone is fine, guys. He was fine at the wedding, and he’s fine now.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend him. Stone is perfectly capable of defending himself, but he’s not here, and the family ganging up on him behind his back just feels so familiar and wrong.