by KJ Reed
So she went along with her life as if nothing had happened. Eat, sleep, work. Work, where she was right now, ready to earn a few more bucks to put into her adventure jar. Save up for that trip around the world.
Only it was dead. Which meant she had more time to think than she wanted.
She reviewed the conversation with Pete once more in her mind and came to the same conclusion she had the other twelve hundred times she’d replayed it. He truly had no right going behind her back like that. The whole time she had been building castles on clouds, thinking that maybe her week-long fling would turn into something more. Something better than she’d ever had before.
If she were being honest with herself, some tiny portion of her heart still hoped for the chance. But he’d closed that door when he went behind her back instead of talking to her first. And she’d locked the door behind him with her dismissal.
So really, when had being honest with oneself ever been a good thing?
Maria wandered through the bar and picked up a glass to polish. She said nothing, just set the clean glass aside and grabbed another, working with Sarah in companionable silence.
Sarah knew better. Maria was biding her time until an opening showed itself. Then her friend would pounce. When Maria caught a whiff of a tale she didn’t know, got hold of information, she was a pit bull. She’d lock her jaws around the story and shake until the truth came out. Sarah refilled two beers and took a to-go order by phone before frustration won out.
“What?”
“Hmm?” Maria looked up from the second crate of glasses.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “You don’t seriously think I’m buying this, right? The whole ‘I’m just helping you with the glasses’ bit? I know you.”
Maria blew a strand of hair off her forehead and set the glass down with a thunk. “And I know you. You haven’t said a word about Pete. You’ve been dragging your ass around here for days now. What the hell happened?” she asked, tossing the rag at Sarah’s face.
Sarah caught the cloth before it hit her. “It’s over, I guess. What more is there to say?”
“It’s over. You guess? How do you not know one way or the other?” Maria hopped up onto the closed storage chest.
“Don’t you have tables to wait on?”
“Nope,” Maria replied cheerfully, letting her feet swing and bump against the counter in rhythm. “Last table cashed out and I’m last in rotation. So unless there’s a rush, I’m basically done for the shift.”
“Server chores,” Sarah shot back.
“All finished,” Maria answered.
“Lucky me,” Sarah muttered as she turned the water on to wash some bar mugs.
“What?”
“I said golly gee!” she called over the rushing water.
The water shut off without warning. Sarah looked up to see Maria standing inches away, hand on the faucet, a serious look in her eyes.
“Talk.”
Sarah sighed and brushed hair out of her eyes with her wrist. “I love you. You know that. But this is just one of those times when I can’t talk it out. Not yet.”
Maria nodded. “Fine. Forget Pete. Hot guy alert at the front door,” Maria whispered.
“Hell no. I’m done even looking at men who walk through that door.” Sarah hefted a crate full of polished glasses.
“Sarah?”
That voice. A ghost from her past. Slowly, careful not to bump anything with the crate, she turned around.
“Hello, Trav.”
* * * * *
“Do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m good.” Trav settled on her worn couch, observant eyes taking in every inch of her apartment. Sarah could only imagine what he thought of her more-than-humble abode.
Sarah opened the fridge door anyway and stuck her head in. “I have water, some apple juice, milk, um…” She shifted containers around. “A few beers from a promo thing at the bar.”
A large, warm hand covered hers on the handle. “Sarah.” When she looked up, her brother’s face was concerned. “I’m fine. Will you come sit down now, please?”
She followed behind mutely, sitting at the other end of the couch. Looking to her right, she studied her brother in silence.
His eyes were the same color she remembered, but they looked wiser, sharper. His face was a bit leaner. His shoulders were definitely broader. And he had what she perceived as some sort of inner peace that hadn’t existed in the boy of eighteen.
When Trav’s foot touched hers, she realized she’d been bouncing on the balls of her feet. She forced her legs to cease the motion, but nothing could stop her brain from whirling.
“Talk to me. Tell me something. Anything,” he begged.
Her brother’s eyes were patient. And while she wasn’t a big sharer, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“Why did you leave me behind?”
Trav’s eyes widened then darkened with anger. “Is that what that bastard excuse for a father told you? That I ditched you?”
Sarah looked away, ashamed. “Yeah. I didn’t believe it at first. But then you didn’t come back to visit. Didn’t come get me. And I just started believing it. I didn’t want to. But you never came back.”
“Sarah, I—” Her brother held up his hands and let them fall back in his lap. “I was eighteen. I left for boot, I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. I couldn’t have taken you with me even if I had been able to afford it. You were a minor, and as much as our dad probably didn’t care if you stayed or left, you know what he would have done.”
The passing years of maturity told her exactly what. “He’d have reported you for kidnapping.”
“Yes. Just to spite us. And then, when I was more stable, you stopped talking to me.”
“I was too pissed by then. I’d been the one left behind. I’d been the one Dad lashed out at when he was feeling mean or nasty. That pissed me off. Then I started buying Dad’s shit, believing it. Thinking you’d abandoned me.”
Trav scooted over and cautiously draped an arm around her shoulder. “You were a teen. You weren’t supposed to have it all figured out. The adult in our life was supposed to do that for us. He’s to blame, not us.” He rubbed her arm.
Sarah sniffed. “Still. I lost all this time with you and all because of pride. I didn’t want to run back to you after thinking for so long you left me.” God, the years she’d lost with her brother. The support she could have had when she needed it most. All along, she’d had a soft place to land and she didn’t even realize it.
“Well, we’ve got plenty of time now. Thanks to Pete.”
Sarah stiffened.
“What?” Trav asked. “You didn’t like him?”
“No. I mean yes. Or not.” Sarah bit her lip, not sure what to say. Well, she’d always asked for honesty from Pete. Might as well stay with it.
“I was upset that he told you where I was without talking to me first.”
“Okay,” Trav said, drawing the word out. “He’s my best friend, though.”
Oh. “Best friend?”
“Yeah. We met in boot, we bonded over horrible parents, or his lack thereof, and we’ve been best friends for over ten years now. Like a brother. Family.”
Oh shit.
“Plus, I asked him to not say a word. I was afraid you’d take off and I wouldn’t find you. He wasn’t happy to do it, you know. I had to talk him into it.”
Double shit. Now how was she supposed to stay angry? Pete had known her for a week. Trav had been his best friend—his family—for a decade. Suddenly things started to click.
Sarah made the supreme effort to step back and look at the situation objectively. Who would she want someone to show more loyalty toward? Family first, she would think. And knowing that he still struggled to go behind her back, to keep it quiet, and fought to tell her the truth as soon as possible still meant something.
Making a split-second decision, going with the impulse, she said, “I like him.”
Sarah sighed. An hour with her brother and already he exasperated her. But it was good. Very siblingesque. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Comforting.
“Yes. Yes he is. Keep that in mind.” She blew out a breath. “I more than like him. I think he might more than like me, too.”
“How could you ‘more than like’ him? You’ve spent like ten minutes with the guy.” Her brother’s face was a mask of utter confusion.
“We made good use of those ‘ten minutes’,” she said with a smile. When her brother said nothing, Sarah rolled her eyes. “Just… Just use your imagination.”
“Use my imagina— Sarah!” The look of confusion morphed into horror. “You’re not supposed to be doing that!”
She couldn’t help it. Tipping her head back, Sarah let out a deep laugh. “I’m twenty-five. And divorced. Sex isn’t exactly—”
“Stop. Stop right there,” Trav said, covering his ears with his palms. “I’m going to just pretend you didn’t say any of that. Let me live in my little bubble of ignorance.”
“Fine.” Sarah tugged at his arm playfully until he dropped his hands. “Just thought you should have fair warning. Because somehow I need to fix this. Even though I’m still mad,” she added, just to be contrary.
With caution, Trav stroked a hand down her arm, then pulled her close. “He’s a good guy. Don’t be mad at him.”
No. She couldn’t be. Not even if she wanted to. What that meant for the future, she wasn’t sure yet.
Chapter Eight
Sarah sat next to Brice Winston, Ariel’s brother, at the long banquet table. The Winstons were generous enough to host Thanksgiving at their camp dining hall, since there was more than enough seating for everyone and the commercial kitchen wouldn’t blink at the amount of food that had to be prepared.
In addition to the four Winstons, Trav and Sarah, the Fitzhughes from down the road were joining them. And by down the road, that meant about two miles away. Mary Ellen Fitzhugh ran the stables for Camp Tecumseh and was also Ariel’s best friend.
And apparently, given the looks Brice kept shooting Mary Ellen when he thought nobody was looking, she was also the object of his lust.
The one person who wasn’t there was Pete. Sarah had been more than pleased to join her brother for the holiday and loved meeting her soon-to-be sister-in-law. But she also assumed Pete would come out. His absence was dragging her like a weight. Forced smiles were becoming a habit.
Brice was explaining about the new program Ariel had proposed to Child Protective Services about providing weekend retreats to the camp for foster children when the door to the mess hall flew open. Everyone scrambled to grab napkins and cups that blew away, but Sarah stared at the new guest.
Before he could even unwrap the layers of warmth, she knew it was Pete. Knew it in her bones. Like she had Pete Goodwin Radar. She wanted to get up and run to him, but after the way she ended things, it wouldn’t be the right thing to do.
Ariel lost no time in flinging herself into Pete’s arms, however. After a hug, Pete shook Trav’s hand and apologized to the group as a whole.
“Sorry. Flight was delayed, then canceled. I should have been here yesterday.”
Pete’s eyes strayed over the group, coming to rest on her. For one moment, the room felt hotter than the oven mid-turkey bake. Then he drifted over to the side to give Mary Ellen an affectionate squeeze.
Jealousy, pure and simple, stirred in her gut as she watched the petite redhead embrace Pete back. By the way Brice’s hand clenched around his fork, she had a feeling he didn’t enjoy the sight much either. But the hug ended, and Pete was back to looking at her with that damn discernable stare. She had no clue what it meant, but whatever he was feeling, it was intense.
Conversation continued and she did her best to keep up with those talking around her. But even as she looked to her left to say something to Brice, she could feel his hot stare on her constantly. And it finally clicked what his eyes were saying.
Don’t think you’re getting away that easily, Sarah.
Well, right back atcha, Pete.
Sarah waited until all the dishes were cleared away and the family had settled on watching a movie on the rec room’s big screen. As the group made their way along the packed-dirt path, Sarah started to drift toward the bunks. As the Winstons had rightly guessed, everyone would be indulging in wine and beer and they wanted everyone to have an easy way to avoid driving. The whole group was bunking at the camp for the night.
Trav followed her a few steps away from the group, as she’d suspected.
“Where are you heading? Rec room’s that way.”
Sarah gave him an innocent smile. “I’m just going to call it a night. I’m exhausted. And if Ariel is waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn to go Black Friday shopping, I’m going to need rest.” She teased him with a wink. “Some things have changed, but I’m still not a morning person.”
Trav nodded and gave her a hug. Though it was still awkward at times, their relationship had grown leaps and bounds over the last week. “You know where our cabin is if you need anything.”
Sarah nodded and headed toward her bunk. She was willing to give Pete an hour to get his butt settled and head to her cabin for a talk. The male ego needed a chance to thrive, after all. But if he didn’t show up soon, she would be hunting him down so they could settle things. And then it would be on her terms.
* * * * *
Pete wasn’t sure where Sarah had gone, but she disappeared before the movie even started. Come to think of it, Trav had disappeared as well. With everyone preoccupied, it was a good time to slip out himself. He leaned over the sofa to whisper in Ariel’s ear he was tired and heading to bed. Thanks to the movie, she didn’t put up a fuss, but he could see the disappointment in her eyes. He’d make it up to her.
He walked toward the bunk he knew Sarah was staying in. His boots didn’t make a sound on the path. Though it wasn’t late, darkness had already swallowed the camp thanks to the short winter days. The quiet of the night was overwhelming. Over a hundred yards from the rec room, isolated from other homes or businesses by woods, he felt well and truly alone. Though there was no light on, he heard faint sounds in the cabin, enough to tell him she was likely still awake.
Pete knocked loudly and waited. Yellow light flooded beneath the crack of the door and more sounds told him she was moving around inside.
Sarah opened the door her hair a little disheveled, a smile tilting her lips.
“Pete. Hey.” The smile morphed into a satisfied grin.
“We need to talk.”
She stared at him a moment, then swung the door wide to allow him in. Inside, one bedside lamp was on, but nothing more. Pete took stock of Sarah, standing there in her baggy sweatpants, long-sleeve t-shirt and thick socks, thanks to the cold. As she closed the door behind him, she walked toward the bed.
“Pete, I think—”
“No. You can talk later. My turn to talk now.” Pete crossed his arms and leaned against the door. He was going to fight like hell to fix every problem he’d created. Then she could have her say.
“I was stuck with a choice between bad and worse when I realized you were the sister Trav’s been looking for for over a year. I knew telling him where you were would screw up whatever chance we had at anything more. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t not say a word. Trav is the closest thing to a brother—family—that I have ever had.” He looked at her steadily. “Can you understand where I’m coming from?”
Sarah nodded. “I was so mad at you for what you did. I was frustrated, and annoyed, and hurt that you went to Trav and never let me know it.” He started to speak but she held up a hand. “No, let me get this out now. I was angry. And I think I earned the right. I’m allowed my feelings. But then I thought about it more. And I see why your loyalty would swing to Trav. Your faithfulness. We’d known each other a week at that point. You’
ve known him for ten years, which probably seems longer given what you have gone through together.”
Pete couldn’t speak. It was like she read his mind. She understood the struggle and didn’t blame him for it.
It couldn’t be that easy.
“So where does that leave us?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Sarah said, moving back toward him. “Because if you want to know, that means you care. Right?” She stopped in front of him, only inches separated them.
“I care,” he said hoarsely.
She reached him, tentatively putting a hand on his chest. And that was all it took to snap the last of his composure. He dragged her up on her toes, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down for a bruising kiss.
It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t chaste. It was harsh and brutal and primitive. An animal who’d been separated from his mate too long. She groaned, giving back what he put into the kiss. He used his tongue to thrust inside, to mimic the act his cock was desperate for. Hands on her waist, he whipped her around until her back slammed into the door.
She gasped, breaking the kiss.
Pete stared down at her. “Are you—”
His question was cut off with another assault, this time from Sarah. Her hands skimmed under his shirt, flicking his nipples, drifting down to glide around the waistband of his jeans, to tug on his belt.
“Sarah. Sarah stop,” he managed between pants for breath. “We can’t.”
“Any particular reason?” she asked while taking not-so-gentle bites on his jaw, his neck, his ear.
“A million. But the most important, no condom.”
She leaned back until her head thumped the door. “Aren’t Marines always prepared?”
“Wrong organization. Semper Fidelis is us. Always faithful.”
“How appropriate.” The look that crossed over her face was soft, as if the lust had momentarily drained out of her, leaving only emotion. She skittered away to the nearest bedside table and opened the drawer. Then a slow grin spread across her face and she pulled out a condom between two fingers. “Guess I’ll be the prepared one this time.”
Pete took three seconds to debate before the little head won in a landslide. He snatched the foil packet and growled, “You better be ready by the time I’m suited up. Because I won’t hesitate to rip those pants off you.”