by Nalini Singh
Ísa’s eyebrows drawing together over her eyes. “But you love it so much.”
“He didn’t work much—Gabe remembers more, tells me Brian was always more interested in get-rich-quick schemes, the next big score,” Sailor said, wondering if Gabriel truly had conquered his own demons when it came to their father; he was Brian’s oldest son, after all, and they’d had a different relationship than Sailor had had with Brian.
His brother was so tough and so together that it was hard to think of him as a child, especially when he’d always been Sailor’s rock. “I remember holding tight to Gabe’s hand the day we were evicted. I was so scared, but I saw that Gabe wasn’t crying, so I didn’t either.”
Ísa’s lips curved. “I can just see you, two tough little men. That must’ve helped your mom so much when she was fighting to fix things.”
Sailor hadn’t felt so tough back then, but Ísa’s words showed him a new way to look at the terrible memories so they weren’t about abandonment but about love and strength and being family.
Yeah, he wasn’t about to let go of his redhead. Not ever.
“The odd times when Brian did work,” he continued, returning back to what he’d started to say, “it was often for landscaping companies. He gave me a child-sized spade a couple of months before he left. Mom likes gardening too, but I’ve always associated it with him.” With the man who’d left his family behind. That choice, Sailor might’ve one day forgiven, but to clean out the accounts so that his wife and children didn’t even have enough money for food? Who did that?
And how did a man get past such a vile genetic legacy?
“But one day,” Sailor said, curling Ísa’s hair around his finger, “I decided the dream was mine. He’d stolen so much from us—I wouldn’t let him steal this too.” He looked into the soft, moon-washed gray-green of Ísa’s eyes. “Do you see?”
Expression gentle and her heart unhidden, Ísa said, “You need to do this yourself, because your father took and took. It’s not rational and maybe it’s not even sensible, but it’s important to you.”
He shuddered because he was a fucking lucky man; she got it. Got him.
“Your parents and brothers love you,” she said decisively. “Involve them in nonfinancial ways and I think they’ll be happy. Talk to them about choices you need to make for the business, ask for feedback. And keep on accepting the frozen dinners and grocery deliveries.”
There she went, being Ísa again. Looking out for everyone but herself.
Well, fuck that. If she wouldn’t do it for herself, he’d do it for her.
“You know how I said there were two things?”
She nodded.
Taking a deep breath, Sailor decided to lay himself at her feet. “I was imagining the future and thinking of how if everything went according to plan, I’d have a very successful business with a high turnover.”
He made sure his hands were locked behind Ísa’s back—just in case she decided to leave him in her dust a fourth time. “And since I’d be rich, I’d be able to buy houses and other nice things for my family.”
Ísa frowned. “I don’t think your family expects that.”
“They don’t exactly need my largesse either,” Sailor muttered. “But in my future fantasy, I’m buying everyone fancy cars and houses. Go with it.”
Ísa’s lips twitched. “Okay, big spender. What else is fantasy Sailor doing?”
“He’s building a ginormous mansion. Swimming pool, tennis court, the works.”
“Is he hiring a buff personal masseuse named Sven?”
“Hell no.” He glared at her. “The masseuse is a fifty-year-old former bodybuilder named Helga. Now, can I carry on?”
Pretending to zip up her lips and throw away the key, Ísa made a “go on” motion.
“Future Sailor is also creating a huge walk-in closet for you and filling it with designer shoes and clothes. He’s giving you everything your heart desires.”
A flicker of darkness in Ísa’s gaze, but she didn’t interrupt… though her hands went still on his shoulders.
“And there’s a tricked-out nursery too,” he added. “Plus a private playground for our rug rats.”
Throat moving, Ísa said, “How many?” It was a husky question.
“Seven, I think.”
“Very funny, mister.”
“I’m not done.” Sailor was the one who swallowed this time. “And in this fantasy house, future Sailor walks in late for dinner again because of a board meeting, and he has a gorgeous, sexy, brilliant wife and adorable children. But his redhead doesn’t look at him the same anymore. And it doesn’t matter how many shoes he buys her or how many necklaces he gives her, she’s never again going to look at him the way she did before he stomped on her heart.”
40
Dreams and Devotion
ÍSA’S LOWER LIP BEGAN TO quiver, but she didn’t speak.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Sailor cupped her face, made sure she saw the sheer terror he felt at the thought of losing her. “I’ve been so tied to this idea of becoming a grand success that I forgot what it was all about in the first place—being there for the people I love. Sticking through the good and the bad. Never abandoning them.”
Silent tears rolled down Ísa’s face.
“But that great plan of mine?” he said, determined not to give himself any easy outs. “It’d have meant abandoning everyone. How can I be there for anyone when all I do is work? When I shove aside all other commitments? When the people I love hesitate to ask for my time because I’m too tired and too busy?”
Using his thumbs, he rubbed away her tears. More splashed onto the backs of his hands, her hurt as hot as acid. “Spitfire, please,” he begged, breaking. “I’ll let you punch me as many times as you want if you stop crying. With a big red glove. And you can post photos online.”
Ísa pressed her lips together, blinked rapidly several times. And pretended to punch him with one fist, the touch a butterfly kiss.
Catching her hand, he pressed his lips to it. “That’s more like my Ísa.” He wrapped his arms around her again. And then he told her the most important thing. “I realized that I could become a multimillionaire, but it would mean nothing if my redhead didn’t look at me the way she does now, if she expected to have to take care of everything alone like she’s always done—because her man was a selfish bastard who was never there.”
Ísa rubbed her nose against his. “You’re being very hard on future Sailor,” she whispered, her voice gone throaty.
“That dumbass deserves it,” Sailor growled. “He was going to put his desire to be a big man above his amazing, smart, loving redhead.” Thrusting his fingers into her hair, he stole a kiss. It tasted of salt, and that just infuriated him again. “I love you, Ísalind Rain. You are the most important part of my dream. Please tell me I haven’t fucked up beyond redemption?”
* * *
ÍSA COULD BARELY SPEAK. “IF I say you have?” she finally whispered with a smile.
“I’ll tell you how my cat died yesterday so you’ll feel sorry for me.” A downturned, pathetic face. “Poor Fluffy. I had him for twenty-three years. I walked him every day.”
Laughing wetly, she said, “I think a cat that geriatric has earned his rest.”
“Ísa.” And there it was, his emotions laid bare. No defenses. No walls. The love, the devotion in him, it gutted her.
Never, not in her wildest dreams, had she dared to imagine that she’d be that important to someone. As if she was air and without her, he couldn’t breathe.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “And I forgive future Sailor for being a dumbass.” Linking her arms around his neck, she spoke through the storm inside her. “In fact, I think future Sailor is going to be an incredible man I’ll adore more with each and every day.”
“Yeah?” His lips kicked up in that familiar smile, but there was a question in his eyes, a quiet hunger. “What’s he going to do?”
Ísa knew what he was askin
g her, what he needed her to tell him. “He’s going to be a man who works hard but who has time for the people he loves. And he definitely has time to get up to wicked things with a certain redhead.”
“I like this guy’s priorities already.”
“He’s also the kind of father who takes a turn doing the school run because he enjoys spending time with his child.” It was scary doing this, laying out her dreams, but Sailor had given her everything.
Ísa would be brave enough to give him the same back. “He has time to play with his baby, and to kiss his wife, and even if he forgets things now and then, or if he gets a little busy for a while, it’s all right because his wife and child and all the members of his family know they’re loved beyond measure.” Perfection had never been what Ísa wanted. “Because when it matters, he’s there. He sees the people who love him.”
Demon-blue eyes solemn, Sailor said, “I can do that.” It was a vow. “I can be that guy.”
“You already are,” Ísa whispered. “You’re my dream, Sailor.”
But Sailor shook his head. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, spitfire. I’m going to court the hell out of you.” After a meditative pause, he added, “Nakedness during said courting is optional but highly encouraged.”
He was wonderful. And he was hers.
Ísa felt like a kid in a candy store.
Tumbling him onto the sand, that muscled body hard and warm under her own, she said, “Tell me the truth.”
“About what?” His hands shaped her rear. “How much I love fondling you?”
“Shh.” She looked up with a pounding heart. “What if one of your parents comes out?” she asked, Devil Ísa suddenly turning into a scandalized prude who wouldn’t dream of doing anything naughty.
“I’ve caught them making out twice this summer alone.” Winking, Sailor tucked his hands inside her pajama pants. “We keep telling them to get a room.”
Not about to be distracted, Ísa pinned him with her gaze. “You’ve been working on your business plan for years.” It had been his driving ambition, the shining star on the horizon. “You really want to make it come true, don’t you?”
“Not at the cost of us” was the firm response, his hands equally firm where they massaged her weak, weak flesh.
Slipping off him, she lay on her back on the sand. Which left him free to come up over her. “I like this position too,” he said as he bent to kiss her neck.
“Sailor, this is serious.”
He looked up at her tone, his expression solemn. “I’m okay with the trade-off, spitfire. I get you. The rest is immaterial.”
But Ísa knew about dreams and about how much it hurt to give them up. Sailor had made hers come true with a raw passion she’d remember to her last breath. She wasn’t about to do any less for him. For her blue-eyed demon who looked at her as if she was his Christmas.
“Tell me your plan,” she said. “I won’t stop asking, so just give in and spill.”
Bracing himself on his forearm beside her, his free hand on her abdomen, Sailor narrowed his eyes. “I should’ve brought the handcuffs.”
“If you play nice,” Ísa said, “when we get back home, I’ll show you the ones I bought for you.”
His eyes glinted. Then he began to speak.
His plan was beautiful and detailed, and Ísa’s business brain flared at the simple brilliance of it. It was like Crafty Corners, a basic idea taken to the next level. But where Jacqueline’s breakthrough had been in crafts, Sailor’s focus was on plants. Specifically, on small gardening stores that didn’t just sell plants and other garden items but that became a community hub through a finely tuned program of events, classes, and hiring local.
The entire concept was based on building bonds and adapting to the needs of a specific area. No cookie-cutter shops. Each one would be unique, its personality formed by the local environment and community. As such, it would also feature the work of local artisans who created handcrafted items that could be used or placed in gardens, such as one-of-a-kind mosaics—thus drawing in another sector of the community.
The boutique, child-friendly cafés within would be the icing on the cake.
“Damn it,” Ísa muttered. “We have to figure out how to pull it off.”
“What?” Sailor blinked.
“It’s too good a plan to abandon.” She tapped her lower lip. “Money is the problem. Especially since you want to do it on your own.” Ísa didn’t make the mistake of offering him financial help—that would break Sailor’s heart.
It was so important to him that he didn’t take, that he gave.
She saw his scars now, understood how deep they went. “Did you ask anyone else for the loan?”
Looking wary, he said, “No,” and she realized he thought she was talking about family.
“An angel investor,” she said with a poke to his chest. “That’s what you need. Someone who’ll forward you the money on the strength of your idea and your track record so far. Someone who takes risks on start-ups in the hope of a big payoff.” She frowned. “I know you want to go it alone—”
“No, I have nothing against an investor,” Sailor said. “It’s a commercial decision for them, and they’d be getting a return. It’s just, with family…”
Ísa could see him struggling to find the words to explain. “I understand, Sailor. It’s a different ballgame when it’s a bank or an investor for whom this type of thing is their business—any risk is weighed and calculated, no emotions involved. They won’t invest in you out of love, and they expect you to return far more than they’re giving..”
Sailor nodded. “That’s exactly it.” His kiss was tender, his hand stroking the curve of her waist. “But with an angel investor—I thought that kind of thing was only for tech start-ups?”
“Are you kidding? My mother has a fund set aside for investment opportunities at the ground level.” She winced. “And oh God, Jacqueline will kill me because I didn’t nudge you in her direction, but we must all sacrifice for love.” If Sailor didn’t want family investment, then so be it.
“I know that world,” she continued. “I can do the basic research for you, find out which investors are reliable and trustworthy.” Ísa would turn barracuda for this, make damn sure no one unscrupulous got their claws into Sailor’s dream. “You’d have to do the hard sell yourself, but since you convinced Jacqueline over the phone, I have total faith in your ability to talk your way into an agreement.”
Catching his stunned expression, she winced. “Um, that is, if you want my help.”
He kissed her, all heat and smile. “You’re amazing, spitfire. I’m so glad I wasn’t a dumbass.” When she laughed, he peppered her face with kisses. “But Ísa,” he said in a more serious tone, “if this doesn’t work, never think I’ll have regrets. Not for a single fucking second.”
Nothing but resolve in his expression.
Nothing but a love that said he saw her and adored her.
“I won’t,” she managed to get out. “But… we’re going to do it.” Because she loved him back just as madly.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn?”
“It’s a gift.”
Epilogue
(It Involves Monsters, Terror, a Dragon, and True Love)
* * *
ÍSA TRIED TO REMEMBER TO do that “huff, huff, huff” breathing she’d been taught. “It’s happening,” she said almost to herself, putting down the volume of Elizabeth Barrett Browning sonnets she’d been reading. “Harlow, Jake.”
The two boys, who were hanging out in her and Sailor’s lounge playing video games, didn’t take their eyes from the screen on which they were vanquishing monsters and hunting treasure.
“Yeah?” one mumbled.
“Hospital.”
The single word had them jumping up like jackrabbits, game forgotten and abandoned. On the screen, a monster ate Harlow’s head while another bore down on Jake with predatory intent. The boys, however, had other priorities.
&
nbsp; One went to the cupboard to snag the bag she’d packed and put in there, while the other grabbed his keys. Both were qualified to drive, but it was the more experienced Harlow who was assigned as driver. Because this entire smoothly oiled operation was as a result of Sailor’s unrelenting care—and slight terror.
Ísa called her husband as she got into the front passenger seat. “Snookums,” she said in a private joke that still made her smile, “I’m on my way to the hospital.”
A sucked-in breath. “Meet you there.”
She smiled as she hung up and began to do her breathing again, her mind filling with thoughts of what it had taken to get here, to this moment when she was about to give birth to her and Sailor’s baby, adding a tiny new person to their already huge extended family. It hadn’t been easy. It had taken determination and grit and a firm belief in both their dreams.
Also included had been the vanquishing of a dragon.
Jacqueline had not been pleased when Ísa handed in her notice at the end of the previous summer. She’d been gearing up for more blackmail when Ísa told her to make a choice—a relationship with her eldest child and any children Ísa might have, or a cold, empty existence devoid of any family contact.
Unspoken had been the fact that if Ísa cut her off, Jacqueline would have to maintain the bonds with Catie and Harlow on her own. And Jacqueline frankly sucked at being maternal. It was Ísa who was the glue, Ísa who made sure Jacqueline wasn’t lost and out in the cold.
“As for Harlow,” Ísa had pointed out, “he’ll be fine.” The summer had been good for her brother—he’d come out of the internship with a new confidence that had girls suddenly giving him a second look. He was still in awe of Jacqueline, but at least now he knew he could hack it in a business workplace.