Forever (This #5)

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Forever (This #5) Page 1

by J. B. McGee




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  Advertencia Antipirateria del FBI: La reproducción o distribución no autorizada de una obra protegida por derechos de autor es ilegal. La infracción criminal de los derechos de autor, incluyendo la infracción sin lucro monetario, es investigada por el FBI y es castigable con pena de hasta cinco años en prisión federal y una multa de $250,000.

  J.B. McGee

  Copyright 2015 J.B. McGee

  1st Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever including internet usage, without the written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Image Copyright sakkmesterke, 2015

  Used under license from BigStockPhoto.com

  Cover graphics and eBook formatting by

  Indie Pixel Studio

  To my children, Noah and Jonah, although I hope they wait to read it until they are much older (if ever). This book and series is about romantic love, but most importantly forever, familial love.

  To my readers…thank you for loving me enough to wait years for this…

  “Let me help you up.” Joe extends his hand toward the steps of the awaiting horse-drawn carriage.

  My chin lifts ever so slightly. “You think I need your help?”

  The lines of his lips curve up. “Don’t put words in my mouth. Being a gentleman, offering assistance, doesn’t mean I think you’re incapable of doing something on your own. What’s with you today, anyway?”

  I shift my weight, contemplating touching him again. That day in the bar I thought it happened because of the shot, the emotions and weight of the situation regarding Gabe, my estranged father. But through the rehearsal and today, every connection of our skin, his mere words, glances, and smiles make my insides flip and turn. Blatantly ignoring his gesture would be rude. I’ve tried to subtly avoid any interaction possible. It’s kind of hard to do when I'm the maid of honor to my sister, Gabby, and he's the best man to his best friend, Bradley. We've been paired together for everything from pictures to dances. It’s especially difficult seeing as Joe is my boyfriend’s brother.

  “Well? You’re holding up the entire wedding party. Take my hand, Sam.” His brown eyes bore into mine, and the tone of his voice is edgy. My breathing quickens. How can I even acknowledge the feeling Joe gives me? Everything about it is wrong. Pure lust. The reality is, it’s forbidden, and the grass is always greener on the other side. That’s the appeal. That’s the origin of these feelings. They aren’t real, but rather an illusion. A potentially painful one.

  “Samantha…”

  My hand seems so small in his when it finally reaches out and connects our palms. The instant they touch, a zap scorches through my body from my head to my core, ending in my toes. The blush I feel creeping from my neck to my cheeks betrays me. Turning my head away, I climb aboard, eventually releasing him. I sit on the cushioned bench, facing the back of the coachman. “It’s so hot today.” I fan myself. “Humid, too.”

  He climbs in beside me, and I scoot an inch away from him. “Feels great out here, if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t.” My eyes are drawn to his sly smile, the smattering of stubble on the rigid lines of his jaw as I turn my head. “Ask you.” My mouth is dry, and my voice cracks. “I didn’t ask you.”

  He glances at my lips as he licks his. “You’re much nicer to me on the phone. What’s up your ass? My big brother not providing you adequate stress relief?”

  “When you were asked to dig up dirt on Gabe, you could have lied to Bradley. Pretended you didn’t know who he was.” I huff before looking away, trying to break his spell. “That could have provided a shit-ton of stress relief.”

  “This again?” He narrows his eyes. “Deceit doesn’t solve problems, Sam. It creates more. Secrets only destroy lives. You have dedicated your life to saving them, not destroying them.” His fingers tug my chin. “And I didn’t peg you for someone who condones shady behavior.”

  Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I can’t believe my thoughts even made it out as words. I’ve been ashamed of thinking them since the day I saw the file at Joe’s bar.

  “What hurts most is you think I’m the type of person who would pull a stunt like that.” His lips purse into a thin line. “He…Ryan…has always been portrayed as the better brother, the one with the most accomplishments. And that’s fine and well.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t give a shit about accolades. Don’t need ‘em. But I’m a solid guy, and I protect the people I love.” I hang my head as tears well in my eyes. The coastal breeze whips in my face. I suck the salty, soft skin of my bottom lip in between my teeth. “Bradley has been the best friend I’ve ever had. Sees me for more than anyone else ever has. I wasn’t going to deceive him. And I’m sorry if that decision caused you pain.” I refuse to look up at him like this. His fist is resting on his knee, which is right beside mine, and I watch as it tightens. It might as well be sucker punching me. “Is causing you pain.”

  The coachman, whom I’d totally forgotten was in front of us, glances over his shoulder as he pulls the reigns back. “Whoa, boys.” He nods. “We’re here.”

  Joe climbs out, extends his hand, and I accept it without hesitation. A pit grows in my stomach. “Thank you for the ride.”

  Joe helps me down the steps, and I stop once I reach his side. Celia, the wedding coordinator, is waiting on us. “Sam. Joe. Follow me this way.”

  We obey the orders, not touching. “For what it’s worth,” I whisper, “I appreciate most of what you said.”

  “You didn’t appreciate all of it?” He glances down at me.

  “Right. Specifically the part about my sex life.” I laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Could have lived without that.”

  He shrugs. “Well, I think I asked about your stress relief. But since you bring up sex, it’s only fair conversation. If you were mine, you’d never have a care in the world. I said I take care of the people I care about.”

  “Actually, you said you”—I do little air quotes with my fingers—“protect the people you love.”

  He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Uh huh. Yep. You did. That’s what you said. Verbatim, even.”

  “I think you like putting words in my mouth, Sam.” He clears his throat. Is Joe Adams speechless? “And to be clear, I was using you as you in general not you specifically.” He nudges me. “Just what kind of guy do you take me for anyway?”

  “You strike me as a bad boy.” My heart races. “Dangerous. Threatening.”

  “Pfft. Then we’ll need to spend some quality family time together so you can get to know me better. Turns out you have no clue who I am.”

  Family time getting to know Joe better? The problem is I’ve already gotten to know him through our phone calls and pretending to not care today has been easier than acknowledging just how much I’d like to get to know him better. In fact, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t started to like the electrifying pings throughout my body over the course of the day, the way he smiles at me, or how easy laughter can come after tears. What was that all about?

  When we reach our destination, marked by Celia pointing to a spot, I glance back to see Ryan walking with Carmen, Bradley’s sister. They are enthralled in conversation and laugh
ter, and I don’t even think he notices me. But Joe does. “Do yourself a favor and try not to fall much more in love with him than you already have.”

  “Seriously?” I shake my head. “Maybe you need some stress relief yourself.”

  The sparkling lights reflect off one side of his face, while the other is completely dark. “My stress level is very well managed. Thanks for your concern, though.” He nods his head in Ryan’s direction. “He’s never going to marry, settle down. He’s in love with his work. And he’s a constant flirt.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, crossing his leg over his ankle. “You deserve better.”

  “Wait a minute. Are you sure you’re not describing yourself?” I wrap my arms around my waist, a chill sending shivers over every square inch of my body. I peer at the water, then into Joe’s eyes as they wander to my cleavage, and I squeeze my upper body tighter.

  His lids become hooded as he licks his lips. “Careful, Sam. You don’t know anything about me other than what I allow you…the world…to see.”

  “You’re the epitome of the word player, Joe. Except, the only one playing your game is you. Grow the hell up.”

  He sucks in a breath, and a low rumble of a man’s voice booms as music blares from the speakers over our heads, drowning out the words he mumbles. My heart’s in sync with the beat, pounding in my chest like a caged animal waiting to be released to defend itself from its attacker. Joe’s jaw ticks, and I fear he has the ability to annihilate me in all the best and worst ways. And he’s practically family. So, I’m effectively screwed.

  Turning in a circle, my eyes survey the books lined on the shelves surrounding the television, the cabinet below it full of movies, and the knickknacks and picture frames on top of the mantle. I don’t think I ever realized how much junk I had until it was time to move. My cell rings, and I smile as I see the number. “Hey.”

  “Whatcha doin’?” Joe asks.

  We’ve not spoken since the wedding. The wedding, where I was a complete and total bitch hell-bent on pushing him away. I plop down on the sofa, hanging onto each of his words like they are the last molecules of oxygen on this earth to fill my lungs. “Procrastinating. You?”

  “Bradley just left.”

  “Right. Saturday. Fishing. Did you catch anything?”

  “Yeah. Some Crappie and Bass. Next time you’re in town we can have a fish fry.”

  My heart flutters. “Yeah.” Because that wouldn’t be awkward at all. “Did you need something?”

  Silence.

  “Joe…”

  “I’m here. I heard you’re moving.”

  Oh. “Yeah. Next month.” I rub my hands over the faux suede of the couch. Gabby and I both moved away for a bit to attend undergraduate college, although Gabby’s still not finished. She transferred school and got married. I, on the other hand, moved back to this house to attend med school at the Medical College of Charleston. Recently, I decided to transfer to a shorter program at Mercer, in Georgia. Ryan’s residency was moved there. “I was attempting to pack when you called. Hence the procrastination.”

  “So…things are serious with Ryan?”

  Cut right to the chase, why don’t you? “We’re not moving in together.”

  He breathes into the phone, sending shivers through my body. “That wasn’t an answer. It was a statement. Answer my question.”

  I suck in my bottom lip between my teeth, then swallow.

  “Because even if you’re not going to live together, the fact you’re transferring programs and moving to the same hospital is a statement I had hoped I’d never need to decipher.”

  “Joe.”

  “Sam.”

  “Don’t do this.”

  More silence.

  The thumping of my pulse is loud and hard, the rhythm matching his breaths. “Does he make you happy?”

  “I wouldn’t be with him if he didn’t.” I get up from the couch and start to pace. “Give me a little bit of credit.”

  “So. This. With us, it’s just friendship for you?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  He chuckles. “You should get an award for evading questions.”

  My lips curve up as I stare through the window at a toddler in a ruffled monogrammed bikini walking with her parents toward the beach.

  “Say something, Sam.”

  “I don’t want to have this conversation with you because…I’m not in a position to tell you what I think you want to hear.” I tuck my hand under the arm, holding the phone. “There. I said it. And now this is awkward.”

  “You think you saying that made this awkward?” I shake my head. “Because the wedding didn’t exactly go as I thought it would, and you’ve given me the fuckin’ silent treatment for weeks.”

  I pull out a chair at the dining room table and plop down. “Because whatever this is, we’re teetering a fine line.”

  “Don’t you think if you were meant to be with my brother, you wouldn’t have the need to walk a fine line with another man?” Heat radiates throughout my body and my face flushes. “But you know what? Go ahead and move to Mercer with him. You’re making a mistake.”

  “Me moving to Mercer isn’t a mistake. It’s a shorter program. Plus, it puts me closer to Gabby.” To you. “You can’t argue that. I know you’re probably thinking of some retort, but there isn’t one.” I’m feeling pretty proud because it’s not often one can make Joe speechless.

  “Do you need help moving?”

  “Haha. The more muscles the merrier, I suppose.” Muscles. Joe’s, Ryan’s, and Bradley’s all lifting boxes and furniture in the Charleston humidity? Sign. Me. Up. “So. Does this mean we’re good?”

  “I’ll never be good with you being with my brother.”

  “Joe.”

  “We’re good.” The words and tone of his voice contradict each other. “I gotta get ready to go open the club.”

  Everything in me wants to say, “See you in a month.” To hang up and not speak to him until I see him here moving my stuff.

  He takes a deep breath. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Yeah. Have a good night.”

  Why does it feel like we just broke up when we were never together in the first place?

  Surprise, surprise. It’s moving day, and instead of being here helping me pack, Ryan got called into a shift at the hospital. It didn’t used to bother me so much, but the more serious things get here, the more bothered it makes me. The doorbell rings. I tuck the side-swiped bangs of my pixie cut behind my ear as I walk to the door. Opening it, the butterflies rush into my empty, growling stomach as Joe’s lips curve up into a brilliant, dazzling smile. His brown hair is short on the sides and longer on the top. It’s like an organized mess of pieces out of place. It looks like sex hair. He looks like sex on a stick. His eyes are like chocolate ganache, dark and rich. “Hi,” I say.

  “Hey. You gonna stand there or invite me in? I can barely breathe in this Charleston humidity.”

  “It’s not even hot yet. I thought the ATL was supposed to be the humid capital of the south.”

  “Eh. Different kind of heat in Georgia.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I guess you’ll see soon enough, huh?”

  I smile. That’s the nicest he’s been about the move. I won’t push my luck with a smart comment back. “Yeah.” I extend my arm, offering him entrance into the living room. “Welcome to my humble abode.” It’s the first time he’s been to our house. Even though I’m the only one who lives here, our mom left it in both mine and Gabby’s name when she passed away from breast cancer when we were still in high school.

  As he’s entering, I get the bright idea to try to look out in the driveway, which causes our bodies to crash together in a hug.

  His arms immediately wrap around my waist. “I could get used to your body pressed against mine like this. Don’t move.” His voice is low and raspy. “Let me enjoy it for a minute.”

  I stand on my tippy toes so my arms can reach around his neck. It’s just a hug. Friends hug. Girlfriends h
ug their boyfriends’ brothers all the time, right? We’re practically family. Except I don’t think boyfriends’ brothers should make girlfriends’ bodies feel like someone set a blow torch to them. “Did you ride with Bradley and Gabby?”

  “No. I drove in case I need to get back to the club for anything. Gabby mentioned this morning that Ryan got called in.” At the mentioning of Ryan’s name, I release Joe, but he holds on tighter. “Such a shame.”

  “Um.” My hand taps his back.

  He inhales, then sighs as he exhales. “Mmm. You smell like raspberries and…peaches…and damn. I could eat you right up.”

  “Joe.”

  He pushes away. “It should be a sin to go around smelling like that.”

  “I’ll be sure to get Taylor Swift the memo next time I see her.”

  The lines of his forehead ripple. “Huh?”

  “Her new fragrance, Wonderstruck.”

  “Are you a Taylor Swift fan? I wouldn’t have pegged you as such.”

  “How can anyone not be a Taylor Swift fan?” I ask, mirroring his face.

  He chuckles as his eyes wander from my head to my feet. “You’re a pint-sized scoop of adorableness.” He takes a step past me, and I shut the door behind him.

  “Somehow that sounded a lot like a description for ice cream.”

  “I guess eating you up is still on my brain. Man, the things I could do with ice cream to your body.”

  “Joe.”

  “I love the way you say my name.”

  “I wish you would stop giving me so many reasons to say it.”

  “This is nothing. If you were mine instead of his, you’d have a lot more fun reasons to say my name. Nah. To scream it.”

  My insides twist like someone’s squeezing a rag dry. Heat starts to stir between my legs. “You can’t say stuff like that to me. How many times do we have to have the chat?”

  “I was trying to keep it light. I figured it’d be a real mood killer for me to come in here like some pussy, drop to my knees, and beg you to not move.”

 

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