Shatter Me

by Tori St. Claire

  When she stood in front of him, his knees bracing both sides of hers, he set his hands on her waist and pulled her forward to place a kiss on her abdomen. “Thank you.”

  She slid her short nails through his hair. “For?”

  “A little bit of normal.” He caught the lightweight cotton fabric between his teeth, playfully tugged, then set her aside and stood. “I’m going to shower.”

  Dodging the suggestion that reflected in his gaze, she turned to pull the couch cover off the sofa. “I’ll throw this in the wash and clean up in a few.”

  Not giving him time to comment further, she scooted from the room.

  …

  Alex dragged a fluffy towel down his shaven face and huffed out a hard breath. He stared at his reflection, searching for wisdom. Or maybe for courage—he wasn’t entirely sure. Desi and Chance had been regular fixtures in Drew’s life, and in turn, Alex had struck up a friendship as well. They were fun, they were smart, and Chance was probably the only person who lost at Monopoly more than Alex. But they’d accepted him as Drew’s best friend.

  Now he was sleeping with Drew’s widow. What the hell would they think?

  The change in his relationship with Reagan left Alex teetering on a ledge of uncertainty. If he stopped to consider it long enough, he’d think himself back into the rules box. But something had shifted inside him as he barreled headlong into orgasm. What had begun as something strictly physical, hard and fast to satisfy an urge, had transformed into something he couldn’t put to words. But the part of him that had fought so violently against it now wanted to stand up and fight for her. To be seen as the man worthy of replacing Drew, to those who knew Reagan, but even more in Reagan’s eyes as well.

  But could he? Or would he always be the one who hadn’t sacrificed himself?

  He tossed the towel aside and plucked the tags from his new clothes. This had to be the strangest damn situation he’d ever gotten himself into. What was it she’d said? They didn’t need to make promises? That was probably sound logic. Just go where the path led, until it eventually led them apart, and it would, when she realized he held the blame for the mess her life had become. He’d failed his best friend, and he would, inevitably, fail her as well. He just wasn’t cut from the same cloth as Drew.

  Everything else aside, he couldn’t stay in Colton. Certainly not in a house that was void of everything that meant anything to him. Highly doubtful she’d leave—her best friends were here, not to mention her job, which she adored.

  Frowning, he dragged on his clothes. He definitely didn’t need to be questioning any of that. In fact, he was going to stop thinking all together. Every time he tried, it only cinched him into knots.

  No, he was going to follow her suggestion and let her be enough for now. And he’d have fun tonight with two people he considered his friends as well. No more thinking, no more analyzing. No more punishing himself. There were steaks to be eaten, beers to be drunk, and if he knew Desi, some fantastic dessert to die for.

  Yeah, it was odd stepping into Drew’s shoes, but for this one evening, he was going to make it okay. If it required every bit of internal strength he possessed.

  Chapter Eleven

  As Reagan passed Desi a stack of dessert plates, she looked out Desi’s sliding glass door, observing Alex. He relaxed in the patio chair, one knee casually tossed over the other, sweating beer in the closest hand, as he laughed with Chance. “He looks at ease for the first time since he showed up at my front door.” Much more than that, he seemed happy.

  Desi grinned as she slid a piece of cherry-covered cheesecake onto the top plate, then took it off the stack and set it aside. “He looks satisfied.”

  “Yeah, well.” Reagan ducked to hide her blush.

  “And so do you.” She relieved Reagan of another cheesecake-laden plate. “I haven’t seen you glow like that in a long time.”

  “I’m not glowing.” With a roll of her eyes, she plucked a cherry off the top of the uncut pie and popped it into her mouth.

  “You are.” She dished out the last of the dessert, set the pie server aside, and leaned back against the countertop, ankles crossed. “So how’d he take it?”

  Mid-chew¸ Reagan froze. She should have known better than to hope the subject wouldn’t crop up.

  Desi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You haven’t told him?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

  “I…no.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  With a heartfelt sigh, Reagan turned to the sink and began to absently pick at the dish towel. “I can’t do that to him. He all but idolizes Drew. Telling him would be selfish.”

  Desi frowned sharply. “He probably feels guilty.”

  “He does.”

  A strangled sound of frustration gurgled in her friend’s throat. “Then tell him, for God’s sake.”

  She chewed on her lower lip, then confessed the deep, humiliating truth. “I’m afraid he won’t believe. That he’ll react like Shelley. Like Drew’s whole damn family.”

  “Won’t believe?” Desi stared, her mouth slightly agape. “You wear the proof. Shelley never saw the scars—you didn’t have them then. He hadn’t gone that far. Jesus, Reagan, you can’t deny that kind of proof. Stop being afraid and take a chance. He’s perfect for you.”

  In that moment, her hesitation had little to do with her own fear. More important was doing anything to protect Alex from the horrible truth of his best friend. Reagan shook her head and looked her best friend in the eye. “It’s not that simple. It would crumble his whole foundation. Everything changes then, and I’m not going to hurt him that way.”

  “So you’d rather let him feel guilty. How generous of you.”

  Frustration rose. Desi didn’t get it. She hadn’t been standing in Reagan’s living room to witness the anguish on Alex’s face. Hadn’t heard the fierce loyalty. She’d never been part of the military, couldn’t possibly understand that brothers-in-arms were as tight as brothers-in-blood, if not more so. Telling Alex that Drew was an abuser would be like telling a sibling his brother was a pedophile. The truth would devastate him.

  “Look at the tattoo on his arm, Desi—‘Death before Dishonor.’ That’s Alex’s moral composition.” She raked her hands through her hair and let out a soul-deep sigh. “The man he owes his life to was a dishonorable man. You and I both know Alex well enough to know what that will do to him.” She shook her head again, more convinced than ever that hiding the truth from Alex was the best way. Even if she couldn’t maintain the charade forever. “I can’t. I won’t. Now, please, we’re in a good place tonight. Let me stay there.”

  Desi held Reagan’s gaze silently, then folded her into a tight hug. “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I know.” Reagan embraced her just as tightly. “It’s far from perfect, but I’m happier than I’ve been in years. And he’s not staying long-term. So it’s okay for now.”

  “If you say so.” She backed out of the hug and gestured at the waiting desserts. “We better take these out before the guys come looking for us.”

  Reagan picked up two plates and headed for the screen door. Alex turned at the slight squeak to the hinges. A broad smile lit up his ruggedly handsome face as his gaze fell on her, making her stomach flutter. She took him his plate, feeling like she was walking on air.

  To her complete surprise, as he accepted the proffered cheesecake, he rose slightly from his chair and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  From the corner of her vision, Reagan caught the look Desi and Chance exchanged—a knowing, supportive smile. They liked him. They liked him with her. And God how she wished Drew’s ghost would stay in the grave.

  “You’re welcome.” She resumed her seat beside him, leaning her knee against his. It was natural and comfortable, and in all the years she’d been married, she’d never felt so completely at ease.

  …

  Good food, good times…and one damned good woman. Alex squeezed Reagan’s hand affe
ctionately. He gazed out over the gas fire in a faux stone pit, seeing the picture the night presented from a distant perspective. Chance and Desi debated the legitimacy of Chance’s long workdays with animated passion. Neither really caring which side they argued, just a strongly bonded couple poking good-naturedly at each other. At Desi’s claim it was the only way he could justify three trips to Starbucks in a day, Chance burst out laughing and conceded the argument.

  Beside Alex, Reagan sat in the chair, her long strawberry hair glinting with streaks of gold from the firelight. She’d shucked her sandals after finishing Desi’s mouthwatering dessert, and her bare feet were tucked beneath her in the comfortable cushion. Sleep crept up on her. The heaviness to her sooty eyelashes, the lazy smile she couldn’t quite make stretch all the way, and the occasional stifled yawn gave her exhaustion away.

  Not that he could blame her. Today had been full of emotional highs and lows. Add in working on the roof, two bouts of sex, and no time to sneak in a nap, and he was feeling it also. But he was too content to do what he ought to and take her home so she could go to sleep.

  Chance and Desi had embraced him like old times. Maybe even more welcoming than old times. Then again, that might be his wishful thinking, and he didn’t trust the perception. But there was no reservation in their friendliness, no awkward glances, no stretched silences. And when Alex had been brave enough to kiss Reagan in front of them, he couldn’t be certain, but he’d have sworn he saw approval reflected in Chance’s face.

  Maybe Reagan was right. Drew was dead; they hadn’t stopped living. Maybe, despite everything, it would be okay to step into Drew’s shadow. He wasn’t the man Drew had been—would never be. But perhaps this entire clusterfuck was all in his mind.

  Another round of laughter pulled him out of his head. Chance toasted Alex, evidently something he’d missed. He raised his nearly empty beer and then finished it off.

  “’Nother?” Chance asked.

  “I’m good. Thanks.” He nudged Reagan’s forearm. “You need anything?”

  She blinked sleepily and shook her head.

  “A bed,” Desi said. “What did you do to her today, Alex? She’s falling asleep in the chair.”

  He chuckled, grinned, but didn’t answer. Desi knew; he was pretty damn certain Chance did also. Grinning, he tipped his head to study Reagan. Her blue eyes were luminous in the flickering light. Full of affection.

  His chest tightened at that brimming emotion. She was tumbling over the edge, falling into him. Into them. And Christ almighty, he wanted to fall right along with her.

  But could he? Could he let go enough to live? Could what they had right now be enough to make up for losing her in the end, once she realized he wasn’t half the man she thought he was? Even more importantly, could they work through the past to make it through the future?

  Or would taking the chance shatter him completely?

  He lifted her knuckles to his lips. “I think she’s right. To bed with you.”

  Reagan chuckled, but even her laughter had dimmed. As Alex’s granddad would have said—she was plumb tuckered out.

  He stood, tugging her to her feet alongside him. When she leaned into his side, he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Thanks for dinner, you two. It was great catching up again.”

  Chance rose and shook Alex’s hand. “Vacation kicks in tomorrow. I’ll lend you a hand with that roof, if you want.”

  “That’d be great. Thanks.”

  “Any time.” Chance released Alex’s hand, stepping aside to give his wife some room.

  Desi hugged first Alex and then Reagan. “Glad you joined us. Night, you two.”

  “Night, Des.” Reagan lifted her fingers to her mouth to cover a yawn.

  Alex squeezed her close, then slipped his palm to the small of her waist and guided her to the screened-in porch door. The night was cool; the chirp of crickets added to the tranquillity. Stars twinkled overhead, a million tiny lights that lit up the crisp green grass.

  She rested her head against him as they walked, her slower steps one more indicator that she was seconds away from passing out. In a strange, surreal way, it was nice, though. The trust she placed in him, the easy way she accepted him—he soaked it all in.

  She made him feel normal. Special even, in a way he didn’t deserve. God, how he’d like to be the man she believed he was. To be truly worthy of the tenderness he’d glimpsed in her eyes throughout the night. But he was just a man. Just an ordinary guy who put his pants on the same as any other.

  Maybe that’s good enough.

  He reached her front porch and swallowed through the sudden ache behind his ribs. Who was he kidding? She’d buried a Purple Heart awardee. Even if she could somehow forgive him for his fateful decision, he’d never be the honorable man Drew had been. Drew fought the good fight till the end. Alex sure hadn’t been the one to throw himself on a live grenade. Drew had dragged himself up from a life of near poverty. Alex came from wealth, had rarely had to work for much of anything in his teenage years. Drew wanted to become someone special, busted tail intending to become an officer.

  Alex just wanted to be happy. Live a normal life. No notoriety. He’d served his country with all he was, but now he wanted a nine-to-five job that he could leave behind at the end of the day and go home to the wife he’d grow old and wrinkled with. Watch the kids play on the lawn.

  Still…he couldn’t tear himself away. Reagan had set claws in his heart, and though losing her would tear him apart, he couldn’t stop.

  She turned into his arms as he pushed open the door and leaned back to look up at him. “Stay with me tonight.”

  He kissed her on the nose. “What would you say to my sticking around a while?” Nudging the door shut with his heel, he stepped back to let her go to bed. “I like working with my hands, you need the help…” An excuse to spend more time with her. But damn, desperation gnawed at him. One more day. Just a little more of the bliss that made him forget.

  …

  Excitement burst behind Reagan’s ribs. Alex here. Daily. For however long. It was like a dream come true. And at the same time, it was terrifying. She couldn’t keep the truth from him forever. The longer he stayed, the sooner it would come out. Not to mention, she still suffered a degree of discomfort with his taking charge of her home repairs. If he wrote her out of the decisions…she couldn’t deal with that again. Wouldn’t.

  But excitement overruled fear, and she swallowed to gain some control over her immediate impulse—to throw her arms around him and squeal in delight. “I think I’d like that.”

  “My sister’s planning a surprise birthday party for me on Saturday. I’m not supposed to know about it, but my niece let it slip. Other than that, my time is yours.” He paused a minute, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You want to come with me?”

  She blinked. Hang out with his family? Maybe there was more to his offer to stay than she realized. “Sure,” she whispered.

  He brushed his mouth across hers, drawing her into a lingering kiss. He tasted like beer and something far more delicious that was only Alex. Something darkly erotic she couldn’t get enough of. The tangle of his tongue sent shivers of delight coursing through her body. The way he held her—securely and yet gently. Like a treasure he didn’t want to break. She gave in with a murmur of satisfaction and let her body sway into his.

  Alex drew the kiss to a reluctant close. Hands on her hips, he eased her away to arm’s distance. “You should get some sleep, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart—he’d started calling her that tonight. And the invitation to the picnic—could there really be more growing between them than just physical pleasure? Could he be sliding down the slippery slope alongside her? She tucked her fingers into his belt loops and pulled him back. “Sleep beside me.”

  The way his expression washed of all emotion set off sharp sirens of warning in her head. She watched his face, afraid to blink, certain whatever he said next would leave her in a broken mess.

 
“Ah…” He bit the inside of his cheek, pausing. “I can’t sleep where Drew did, Reagan.”

  Oh, that. Relieved beyond all measure, she tucked her hand into his and started for the stairs. “You aren’t. He never spent a night in my bed.”

  Alex came to a standstill, dragging her to a halt. “What did you just say?”

  Reagan peered at him in confusion, then her eyes widened as she realized how he’d taken her offhand remark. Her stomach knotted. She couldn’t easily recover from that little slip. Time for more truth. Enough to throw him off the scent of her slip in speech. Just no details. Nothing too incriminating.

  “The only time I slept in the master bedroom was when Drew was home. And then…it was never a full night. My bed’s in the guest room.” She’d go to her grave before she confessed that sometimes she’d been afraid she might not wake up if she spent the entire night with Drew. Never knowing what might set him off or what he would deem as proper punishment made self-preservation necessary.

  Alex’s face scrunched, his confusion evidently deepening. She swallowed down a groan. Way to make it worse.

  “What?” he asked again, incredulous.

  She tugged him closer to the stairs. Scrambling for a way to diffuse the rapidly deteriorating discussion, she blurted the first thing that came to mind. “I couldn’t sleep through his snoring.”

  Visible relief flooded Alex’s expression, and the tension in his arm faded. He snugged their hands together more securely. “In that case, I’ll make you a deal.”

  She climbed another stair, taking him with her. “What kind of deal?”

  “I’ll share your bed if you promise to sleep. I refuse to feel guilty all day tomorrow for keeping you up all night.”

  Though she was too exhausted to even entertain the idea of sex, she sent him a coy, sideways glance. “I could sleep in.”

  He gave her bottom a playful swat. “I could sleep on the couch.”

  Reagan let out a laugh. “Okay, okay, you win.”

  Grinning, she led him up the stairs and into the room that was her sanctuary. The room Drew had entered only once, and never again after she’d threatened to go to the police if he walked through the door a second time. That would have had him reporting to his commanding officer, which would have led to a formal citation, and given that she had visible cuts on her body, disciplinary action. To keep his record spotless, he’d never challenged her.