by Elise Noble
“Absolutely not.” The corner of his lips twitched. “Maybe you could buy two and strap one to each foot?”
I grabbed one of Betty’s neon labels and threw it at him like a frisbee. It failed to hit the target. Story of my life.
“Be serious.”
“Okay, okay.” He bent to pick up the label and stuck it back onto the table. “You ever see the movie Downsizing?”
Sigh. This was going to be a really long afternoon, wasn’t it?
But at least Betty hadn’t been kidding about the couches. Right at the back of the store, I found a beautiful pale-grey leather three-seater and two matching armchairs, and the price was a snip at two hundred bucks.
“These look as if they’ve never been sat on.”
“Where d’you figure they got this stuff? A millionaire’s yard sale?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I’m buying them for my new apartment.”
“I thought we came for a bed?”
“We did, but you’re the one who won’t let me spend my money on Vega’s medical bill. And would you rather watch TV sitting on a couch or a Buick seat?”
“A couch,” Luca conceded.
“Well, there you go.” Did I look smug? Maybe a little. I got my bearings and pointed to the other side of the warehouse. “I’ll tell Betty we’re taking the couch and chairs, and then I’ll meet you by the beds.”
Was it weird to be bed-shopping with the teenage crush whose rejection I’d never quite gotten over? Probably, but over the past two weeks, I’d grown comfortable with Luca again. Perhaps even more than comfortable now that some of his rough edges had been smoothed away. Underneath, he was still the same boy I’d grown up with, with the same charms and the same twisted sense of humour, and most importantly, he made me feel protected. For the last year, I’d carefully arranged my life to avoid being alone with any man but my brother or Colt or Paulo, but now I dreaded the thought of sharing the time I had left with Luca with anyone.
There was only one bed frame I liked that was the right size, an old-fashioned iron frame that might have been an antique. Ivy and roses twisted through the metalwork at the foot, and a brass finial topped each corner. It wasn’t quite what I’d envisioned for my apartment—I’d been planning something more modern—but it was beautiful. I could make it work. Plus it was only a hundred bucks.
“What do you think?” I asked Luca. “Do you like it?”
He gave it a good shake. “Solid. I’d say it has its pros and its cons.”
“Which are?”
Uh-oh. That dirty smile sent my heart skittering.
“If you’re into kink, there are plenty of tie-down points, but if your head hits those iron bars in the throes of passion, it’s gonna hurt like fuck.”
My jaw dropped, and I clenched my thighs together as heat rushed between them. The smirk said he knew he was being totally inappropriate, and I should have been annoyed, but before my brain caught up with my mouth, I blurted, “That’s what pillows are for.”
His turn to gape, and I hurriedly back-pedalled.
“But it’s irrelevant anyway, since I don’t intend to get into any passionate throes ever again.”
Cockiness turned to curiosity. “Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“You mean you haven’t…? Not since…?”
“Of course not! How can I? Even the thought makes me sick.”
“So you’re gonna abstain for the rest of your life?”
“Probably.”
“The right man would work things out with you.”
“Can we just not talk about this?”
Luca shoved his hands into his pockets and pretended to look at a closet. And I knew he was pretending because the closet was hideous and chipped around the edges. Reluctant as I was to admit it, Luca did have reasonable taste.
A tear rolled down my cheek, and I hated that I’d let myself get emotional in a furniture store of all places. I suppose until that moment, I’d focused on getting through one day at a time and avoided thinking too much about the future. But the thought of spending the rest of my life alone… I sank onto the edge of the bed frame and forced myself to breathe.
“Bottling this up isn’t good for you, sweetheart.” The metal creaked as Luca sat beside me. “If you don’t want to talk to me, you should talk to somebody.”
“You mean a therapist?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“I don’t have the money for a therapist. The apartment—”
“Is not as important as your mental health. What about a support group?”
“A support group? There’s no support group.” Without thinking, I laid my head on his shoulder. “And where would I even start? I’ve been on one date since it happened—a double date with Addy—and the guy was sweet and polite and funny and I spent the whole of dinner wondering if he might be the man who took advantage of me. And when he tried to give me a peck on the cheek at the end of the evening, I ran. Literally ran. Addy thought I’d lost my mind, and maybe I had.”
“She knows what happened now. She can help.”
“By explaining to every guy I leave in the dust that I was raped so I might be a teensy bit screwed up in the head when it comes to sex?” Luca blanched, and I realised that now I was being the blunt one. “It’s just that few men would have the patience to stick around, and even if we could build up that trust between us, I’d still be freaking out in case I freaked out.”
“I’d offer up my dick for practice, but that would be a bad idea.”
I choked out a laugh along with more tears. Hell, I was a mess. “A terrible idea.”
“The worst.”
Although I did trust Luca. And sure as heck I was attracted to him. No matter how much I tried to kid myself, eight years had done little to cool the heat that sizzled through my veins whenever he came near, and four days of sharing an apartment with him and his stupid non-shirt had only turned up the gas. Another advantage? In two weeks, he’d be gone for half of forever again, so we wouldn’t spend the remainder of our lives awkwardly dancing around each other while trying to pretend to my brother that everything was normal.
I turned to face him, and our gazes locked. And his…his was all fire and filth and what the fuck are we doing? Which was an excellent question and one I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t breathe either.
I leaned forward an inch.
He did the same, and his focus shifted to my lips.
“Hun, Ed says he can deliver that couch this afternoon,” Betty called. “And did you want to take the bed frame too?”
A low groan came from Luca, and I jolted to my feet.
“Oh, that’s terrific.” Jumbled thoughts careened around my skull like balls in a lotto machine. “Yes, I’d love to take the bed frame.”
One thought tumbled out. Holy hell, I almost kissed Luca.
“Want me to help Ed load the truck?” he offered, his voice oddly stiff.
“That’s mighty kind of you to offer, but our grandson’s helping out after school. You remember Kieran? He just turned fifteen. Ed pays him five bucks a load, and Kieran’s saving up for one of those game consoles, so he wouldn’t thank you for putting him out of a job.”
“I don’t suppose he would.”
Did he almost kiss me back?
“How d’ya want to pay, sugar pie?”
“I’ll—” Luca started, and I held up a hand.
“By debit card.”
Did I dodge another bullet?
“That’s three hundred and twenty bucks. Can I tempt you with a vase? We got some nice ones in last week. A florist over in Coquille passed away, and her daughter didn’t wanna keep none of her stuff.”
Ugh, flowers. “I’ll pass on the vase.”
Or did we miss out on something amazing?
Would we ever find out?
17
Luca
Fuck.
We hadn’t just dodged a bullet, we’d dodged a whole damn
minefield.
I’d been a heartbeat away from kissing Brooke, thinking with my little head instead of my big one, when Betty had shuffled to the rescue. Saved by the septuagenarian saleswoman.
But damned if I didn’t have regrets.
And I also remembered Plunk. That wasn’t his real name, obviously, but it was all we ever called him after he fucked up his gun assembly during Basic Combat Training and the magazine fell out as he raised his hand to shoot. Plunk. Thankfully, his skills had improved, and we’d gone through Ranger School together, but that still hadn’t stopped him from getting shot. Or from charming the panties off the nurse who took care of him in the hospital. They lived in Georgia now, had two kids and a cat that did whatever it damn well pleased.
Plunk’s fate was proof that not dodging the bullet sometimes worked out for the best. Short-term pain for long-term gain.
It was also a reminder that Aaron owned a gun.
In the army, I’d gotten used to making difficult decisions, but they’d been simple life or death, not the judgmental equivalent of crossing a snake pit without knowing which of the slithery little suckers were poisonous. Now I was faced with a choice—should I stick to my original plan, back the hell off, and keep enough space between us that I didn’t get tempted to lock lips and other body parts with Brooke before I left? Or do whatever was necessary to help her get over her fears and then lick my wounds afterward?
Brooke seemed to have made her decision. She kept her hands in her lap and stared studiously ahead the whole way back to Baldwin’s Shore, not quite giving the silent treatment but definitely not encouraging conversation. I tried a couple of meaningless questions, got one-word answers, and returned to my own thoughts.
Attraction wasn’t a problem. I’d been gone for Brooke for half my life. And I hadn’t imagined the heat radiating from her in the furniture store. Now I was Icarus, flying too close to the fucking sun.
And I wasn’t sure I could change direction, even if I wanted to.
Brady was lying across the Buick seat when we arrived back at the dealership, his messy brown hair visible at one end. The beep, ping, boop of whatever game he was playing on his phone broke the silence.
“We’re back.”
He sat up, stretching his arms above his head. “Deck had a date, so I stayed with the dog. Get what you wanted?”
Partially. Got the furniture, didn’t get the girl. “Brooke bought a couch and a bed frame. You ever been to that furniture emporium over in North Bend? Weird place.”
“Nah, I never stay put long enough to need my own furniture.”
Neither had I in the past, but for the first time in my life, I wondered whether it might not be so bad to put down roots.
“Thanks for watching Vega. You got much left to do here?”
“Couple more weeks. Maybe three, seeing as I took time out to install that camera system you wanted.”
“Thanks for that too. Just let me know what I owe you.”
Brady waved a hand. “No problem. You already bought the hardware, so call it fifty bucks for the installation?”
I’d have paid triple. Brooke’s security was my most important consideration right now, and I was damn grateful that Brady had dropped everything to help out. Electronics had never been my forte—there was a good reason I hadn’t become an EOD operator. Give me a red wire and a green wire and I might as well have been colour-blind.
“Does cash work?”
“Folding drinking vouchers? My favourite method of payment.”
By the time I’d paid Brady and heard his truck pull away outside, Brooke had disappeared into the bedroom. Was she planning to hide in there all night?
“Hungry?” I called.
“Not really.”
Well, damn.
A brush-off. And also a lie. We’d eaten nothing but potato chips for lunch, and I’d heard Brooke’s stomach grumbling on the ride back from the furniture store. But what was I meant to do? Barge into her bedroom? No way.
“I’m gonna order pizza anyhow. I’ll get you something in case you change your mind.”
My phone was on the kitchen counter—Deck had been busy this afternoon because the grey countertop hadn’t been there at lunchtime—but I’d barely gotten halfway to it when the door clicked open behind me.
“I think we need to talk.”
I froze. Almost ducked. We need to talk. The four worst words in the English language. They couldn’t have been more terrifying if Brooke had fired them from a semiautomatic.
Pew pew pew pew.
My talking skills were on a par with my electronics know-how. I’d always been more of a doer.
“Talk?”
“Or are you going to run away again?”
“We both knew I’d signed up to join the army.”
“You avoided me for two whole weeks before you left town.”
True. Okay, so I probably deserved the barb.
“I’m not running this time.” If war had taught me one lesson, it was to stand my ground. To fight when possible, to carry out the mission, and to only engage in strategic retreat when necessary. “We can talk.”
Brooke opened her mouth. Closed it again. Stood for a long while staring at her feet.
“Uh, so it turns out I don’t really know what to say.”
“Then how about I start? Brooke, you know I like you. I’ve always liked you.”
“Like? Or like?”
“The second one.”
“Then why did you tell me you didn’t?”
Shit.
I’d asked myself that question many times over the years, and I didn’t like the answers. I’d been scared. Scared that if I admitted the truth, if I gave in to my feelings and started a relationship with Brooke, I’d lose everything. Scared that Aaron would never forgive me for breaking our pact and fucking around with his sister. He’d been my best friend for years. His family had given me the security my own parents never had.
And speaking of my parents, I’d been scared of turning into my father. Easton Baldwin’s words still echoed in my ears: the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. If I had a dollar for every time I’d heard that line over the years, I could be a rich jerk like him and spend my whole damn life going to parties.
And I’d been scared that Brooke would become my mother. That she’d get sick of me and vanish overnight. So I’d decided to pre-empt future disaster, rip out my own damn heart, and hightail it out of Baldwin’s Shore. Now that decision had come back to bite me on the ass.
I shrugged. “It seemed like the best option all around.”
“You hurt me,” she whispered, and it turned out that I hadn’t ripped out my whole heart, because her words still made my chest ache.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I only ever meant to hurt myself.”
Brooke walked away. Instinct screamed at me to go after her, on my knees if necessary, but reason told me she needed space. I’d give her that. As long as she didn’t try to leave the damn building.
Vega whined, so I let myself into his pen and took a seat on the floor while he crawled closer to get his head scritched.
“Bet you don’t know how much trouble you caused, do you, boy?”
Although if he hadn’t injured himself, then Brooke would still be trying to deal with her problems on her own, which wasn’t a scenario I cared to think about. The mutt didn’t acknowledge the question, just flopped onto his belly and rested his head on my leg. Pain in the ass or not, I’d miss the farting furball when I left.
Not in the all-consuming way I’d miss Brooke, but yeah, there’d be a gap.
Soft footsteps approached, and Vega pricked up his ears. I would have too, if I’d been a dog.
“Did you mean it?” she asked, quiet, hesitant.
“Did I mean what?”
“What you said earlier? I think you were joking, but sometimes I can’t tell.”
“Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to back up here.”
I turned, and Brooke’s blush
spread from her neck to the tips of her ears.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me. It’s hard enough without you looking at me.”
Slowly, I swivelled back. This conversation, this whole day, had taken a really weird fucking turn. The dog looked as confused as I felt, but at least he was allowed to make eye contact.
“What you said…” Brooke swallowed hard. “What you said about your dick.”
Someone made a choking noise. Right, that was me. My tongue felt too big for my mouth, and at Brooke’s words, my dick rapidly grew too big for my pants, even though this moment was a clusterfuck of everything I’d been trying to avoid.
“Sweetheart, you’re my best friend’s kid sister.”
“I’m twenty-six, and he’s not here.”
“This isn’t a good—”
“It’s actually perfect. You said yourself there wasn’t a problem with you being attracted to me. Aaron’s gone for almost two more weeks, and after that, you’ll be flying off to the other side of the world and you probably won’t be back for years. And I do trust you not to hurt me physically, even if you can be kind of a jerk sometimes. Actually, forget that last part. I shouldn’t call you a jerk when I’m asking for a favour.”
A favour?
A fucking favour?
She thought sex with her would be a favour?
Brooke might have lost her mind, but damn, she’d really thought this through, hadn’t she? And I had to concede that her points were valid. I sure as hell was attracted to her, I’d be leaving, and I was also a jerk.
Which was perhaps why I was considering taking her up on the offer.
“Brooke, I—”
“I promise I won’t get upset when you go. If nothing else, you leaving the first time taught me how to guard my heart.”
Ouch.
But what about my heart? The fissures were already beginning to appear in the last remaining ventricle.
“Please, Luca. There’s nobody else I can ask, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life celibate.”
Could I do it? Could I spend a week making love to Brooke and then put her back on the shelf for some other man to pick up at his leisure?