Coming Undone

by Stephanie Tyler

  “I did read it a second time,” she said as he moved toward her, pulling her up from the chair and against him. “And a third time…”

  “Why don’t we go for setting a record?”

  “As much as I know I’d enjoy it, you owe me,” she said, and traced one of the tattoos on his bicep. She looked into those deep, dark brown eyes that got to her so quickly. “We’ll start small. Childhood.”

  “Damn, you’re not letting go of this, are you?” He sighed, released her and sat back down. “Hunt worked, I played. That’s what I remember most about my childhood.”

  “What about your parents?”

  “Dad left when I was pretty young. So did mom. She couldn’t handle the two of us by herself, so she took off when I was about thirteen.”

  “Did you and Hunt go into foster care or something?”

  Ty shook his head. “Hunt never told anyone she abandoned us. He was only fifteen, but he didn’t want us shoved in some home or split up, so I tried my best to stay out of trouble and not draw any attention to us.”

  “That sounds hard. Very hard.”

  “Hunt found this guy, retired Navy, down the street. He’d stand in as our uncle when an adult needed to show up and talk to the principal. Or the police. He had a lot of connections in the town, and he saved our asses more times than I care to think about. I just tried to have as much fun as I possibly could, and ended up giving my brother more hassle than he deserved.”

  Hmm, why wasn’t she surprised. “Where’s your mom now?”

  “She died a few years ago. Hunt doesn’t know it, but I found her after he enlisted in the Navy and I made my peace with her. She was so young, too young, when she had us. She was only sixteen when Hunt was born.” Ty shook his head. “I don’t blame her, but I know Hunt does. He would have been pissed at me for putting myself out there like that to her.”

  Sam stood, went to him. “See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” she asked softly, kissing his cheek and then his chin and finally his lips.

  It was a sweet kiss that pretty much broke his heart.

  Sam had no idea just how bad it all was, and it didn’t look as if it would improve anytime in the near future.

  When Ty had walked the bike away from her apartment complex well before dawn a week earlier, he’d figured that that was it. He’d waited until he was far down the street before he’d hopped on the motorcycle, slammed it into gear and sped off down the slick streets. The tropical rain storm continued to kick up its heels.

  He’d veered in between slippery palm leaves and branches and kept an eye out for downed power lines, happy to have something else to think about besides what he’d just done. He’d hit the highway with a fury, opened the choke and took off in a blaze of heat and smoke, figuring he’d left Samantha behind. For good.

  Slunk out like a coward. That had never happened before. Ever. No matter how bad the effects of the previous night. And there had been no after effects that morning, only Samantha sleeping soundly on the pillow next to him. Her dark hair splayed, his gut telling him he’d like to do this again and again.

  When he’d first opened his eyes and found her nestled against him, he’d been relieved. Then he remembered that he hadn’t told her anything. That he’d promised her his secret in the morning. In full lust mode, she had invited him to bed, even reiterated her willingness to go to Vegas with him. But that was the heat of the moment talking. And he hadn’t wanted to be there when the harsh-light reality hit in the morning, hadn’t wanted to hear her give him some lame excuse.

  Welcome to reality, Ty. “There’s more, Samantha,” he said quietly.

  “I know.”

  “And you’re not going to be happy with me that I didn’t tell you sooner. Right away.”

  “Why don’t you try me? You already agreed I’m full of surprises.”

  He held her so he could watch her reaction while he told her. Everything. Told her what he’d come here to tell Hunt but couldn’t, hadn’t found a way to, yet. Talked until his breathing came harsh and his eyes blurred and Samantha stopped him from talking with a kiss. Then another and another until they ended up in her bedroom and in her bed and in a place where nothing mattered, except the feel of her skin against his, and where he was done fighting for strength.

  19

  THE GUY WAS TALL ENOUGH, at least six foot one, but no taller, maybe one hundred seventy pounds and decent looking. If you liked the smooth, well-oiled, never-worked-a-hard-day-in-your-life type, that Hunt was one hundred percent sure this Evan guy would be. Judging by what type Carly did respond to, and oh man, had she responded, pretentious, overbearingly polite and, by Hunt’s standards, soft, wasn’t ever going to do it for her.

  “Evan’s headed this way,” she whispered.Yeah, and I could take him easy.

  “I e-mailed him, but it bounced back. I didn’t call him to cancel, either. So he might think I’m his date,” she continued, without moving her lips. She gave Evan a polite smile and a small wave because that’s where they were—in polite, society-function land. Maybe he should’ve taken Cash up on his offer to get that party started by bringing a couple of other guys from the team along.

  “I thought your sister told everyone that I was your boyfriend,” he said.

  “Some people chose to block that out.”

  Evan didn’t look happy as he sized Hunt up, and he was gaining speed. “I think he’s starting to get the message that you’re not his date tonight. But, if you want, I could slip out the back door and leave you two alone for a nice reunion.” Over my dead body.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said, tightening her grip on his arm.

  “Then you have to promise me a few more things. And fast, because he’s making a beeline for you.”

  “This isn’t fair.”

  “I never play fair. It’s more fun that way.” Hunt eyed the side door.

  “He’s almost here,” she whispered. “Name your price.”

  “I’ll let you know after I check out the bathrooms,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “Fine. You win,” she said. A few of his tried and true evade and escape maneuvers landed them in the middle of a swarm of guests on the other side of the restaurant. Evan was nowhere to be found.

  “How’d you do that?” she asked.

  “Classified,” he said. “One of the perks of spending a lot of time avoiding the enemy.”

  “Carolyn.” Nicole came speeding toward them on impossibly high and stylish heels, dragging her fiancé behind her. “You’re late.”

  “I guess you can’t always be successful,” Carly said.

  “What does your sister do for a living again?” Hunt asked before Nicole got closer.

  “She lives to annoy me, pretty much,” replied Carly. “And she’s also a retired beauty queen. She won Miss Florida last year. And I’m not late,” she addressed her sister, who leaned in for a quick kiss.

  “You must be Carly’s SEAL.” Nicole was tall and pretty, with enough of a resemblance to Carly to know they were sisters. But, in terms of everything else, the way the two women held themselves, spoke, dressed, all bets were off. Nicole looked more like an unapproachable ice-princess with her hair pulled back severely and diamond studs as big as marbles in her ears.

  “You can call me Hunt. And congratulations on your engagement,” he said, taking her hand and giving the back of it a quick kiss.

  “I thought you’d be wearing a uniform,” Nicole said.

  “Only to the wedding. Otherwise, I’m allowed to dress like regular people.”

  A few more minutes of small talk and Nicole was leading Carly away to talk to other guests. Carly attempted to bring him along, but he excused himself, headed to the bar to get them both something to drink. He was restricted to club soda tonight when he could’ve used something much stronger.

  Nicole was as high-maintenance as Carly was low, and he was tired after spending only a few minutes with her. No wonder her fiancé looked dazed. Poor bastard.

  �
�Heard rumors you’re military. I’m retired Army. You a Marine, son?” The man next to Hunt was probably early fifties, in damned good shape, standing against the bar smoking a cigar.

  “No, sir. Navy.”

  “Sailor?”

  “SEAL.”

  “SEAL,” the man repeated. “The ones I knew back in Vietnam were crazy.”

  “Yes, sir. But in a good way,” Hunt said, and the man laughed and clinked Hunt’s glass with his own.

  “I’m David Winters. Carl’s brother. The black sheep of the family.”

  “Don’t listen to him.” A strikingly pretty woman turned from another conversation, speaking in clipped, British tones. “Just because he didn’t go into the family business, he likes to fancy himself a rogue. I’m Susan, David’s wife.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Hunt.”

  “Yes, Nicole’s already let the family in on you.”

  He sighed and wished he could turn water to wine. “That bad, huh?”

  “You’ll probably be forever known as Carly’s SEAL,” Susan said, and he really, really hoped Cash never got wind of that one.

  “I’m sure Carl’s not going to make it easy for you, but you’ve got one member of the family pulling for you,” David told him.

  “Make that two,” Susan said.

  He felt awful lying to them, began to see how bad an idea this was. Sure, he could lie with the best of them when the circumstances necessitated it, but he didn’t want to lie to these people. Especially not another military brother. There was a certain code he lived his life by, and a brother in arms was not someone he was comfortable deceiving.

  “Carl’s been pumping me for information about military deployments and what life with you would mean for Carly,” David continued. “It’s the most we’ve talked in years, and the only time he’s ever called on my military expertise.”

  Hunt smiled, wondered why Carly failed to mention that her uncle had been in the service. “What do you do now?”

  “I run a private security firm.” He pulled a card out of his wallet. “Give me a ring if you’re ever bored and looking for a side job. Although I’m hoping to see you more often at these family functions.”

  Hunt stayed to talk with David and Susan for a while longer, found his small party joined by a few more people, all curious about who he was and what he did for a living. David smiled the entire time and egged people on while Hunt fielded the military questions, and no, he was not related to the oil Huntington fortune.

  He wondered how well it would go over if he told them that his father pretty much drank himself to death after the plant closed. Or that his mom waitressed until she was dead on her feet and held it together for a few years, only to pick up and leave when Hunt and Ty were teenagers.

  Even David wouldn’t understand that. He was military, but Hunt doubted their pre-boot-camp experiences were similar. Hunt could even tell the party-goers about that terrible day, when he’d just made it through boot camp successfully and found out Ty had cancer.

  Hell had taken on a whole new meaning.

  Ty’s fine now. He would’ve told you. Yet, Hunt couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was a lot his brother wasn’t telling him. He wasn’t sure why folks insisted on trying to keep secrets from him, he supposed it made everyone feel better to think that they were protecting him.

  He excused himself and headed into the crowd to find Carly. She’d get his mind off anything the way she looked in that dress.

  “Hunt, are you enjoying yourself?” Carly’s mother touched his arm before he had a chance to get away and gave a small smile.

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  “Please, call me Sheila. I insist.” She held her champagne flute by the stem, twirled it between her fingers as she spoke. “I do hope you’re letting Carly get some work done on the charity event.”

  “It’s her top priority,” he said, having learned a long time ago that playing along was the best way to find out things he wasn’t supposed to know anything about. “That’s next week, right?”

  “Yes. Monday afternoon.”

  “Right. My scheduling’s a little off since I’ve been on R&R.”

  “I’m worried that she took on a bit much. I hope she’s well enough not to re-injure herself.”

  So she’s running the event and surfing in it. No wonder she’s wound tighter than a top.

  “She’s a professional. I’m sure she knows her own limits,” he said. He just wondered if he knew his.

  “Will you be there, Hunt?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, knowing that Carly would want to make sure he wasn’t anywhere near the event. He guessed that his role as stand-in only pertained to the wedding and didn’t extend into Carly’s real life and the things that mattered most to her, like surfing.

  MISSION AVOID-EVAN WAS successful through most of the evening. Dinner was uneventful, and thankfully, Carly had noticed that Evan’s place card had been put at the table next to Hunt’s. She’d moved it when no one was looking.

  Carly spent time after dinner speaking to relatives and friends of her parents and left Hunt to fend for himself. When she found him dancing with her eighty-year-old Aunt Edna to the song, “Our Love Is Here To Stay,” she almost burst out laughing. Evan sauntering to her side ruined the mood.“Care for a dance, Carolyn?” he asked. “You do owe me for not answering my e-mails.”

  She really had to learn that escape trick from Hunt sooner than later. “Sure, Evan. And I’m sorry. I did send you a reply e-mail. I thought my mother told you that I was dating someone.”

  “Yes. I heard. You’ll have to introduce us later,” he said, and led her onto the dance floor. “Why is it you never mentioned him before this past week.”

  “I like keeping my personal life private,” she said. For a minute, she wondered if maybe Sam would go for Evan. He was much, much better for her than Ty was. Safe and steady—the type Sam always went for. And truly, there was nothing wrong with Evan, save for the fact that he didn’t do it for her. “And I can’t believe that you don’t have women chasing you down.”

  He laughed, and yes, he was handsome. Not in the rugged, rough-and-tumble way that Hunt was, but he was refined and elegant. “I can’t complain, Carolyn. But I haven’t met anyone who measures up to you.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “We used to be best friends.”

  “We were younger then,” she reminded him. “My interests are a lot different now.”

  “Your interests almost got you killed,” he said, not unkindly. “I was worried. I called, you never called back.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. It wasn’t an easy time for me.”

  “I know that you never did like having any kind of fuss made over you. I know you better than you think,” he said, and yes, maybe he had taken more time than she’d thought in getting to know her when they’d dated.

  “There’s more to me than just that,” she said.

  “If you’d give me the chance, I’d like to know all about you.”

  To another woman, maybe it would’ve come off as sexy. Commanding. But after being with a guy who knew the real meaning of the word command in so many different ways, Evan’s words did nothing for her.

  She couldn’t help it when her gaze fell on Hunt, who seemed deeply engrossed in conversation with Edna and in no apparent hurry to rescue her.

  In fact, he seemed not to notice she was on the dance floor, and when the song ended, he somehow ended up dancing with her sister. After enduring a second song and excruciatingly polite conversation with Evan, Hunt materialized by her side. Carly introduced them, watched as Hunt and Evan shook hands, stared one another in the eyes, neither one blinking until Evan bowed out politely.

  “I thought my aunt might’ve tired you,” Carly said, once she was back in Hunt’s arms and dancing to a slow song.

  “No way. She’s got a lot of good stories. Did you ever hear the one about Uncle Horace and the big fish?”


  “Shut up.”

  “Well, since you’re not interested in swapping tales, how about you tell me the details of the charity event you’re planning next week.”

  She paused.

  “Sounds like it’s a pretty big deal.”

  “I’m just organizing it. It’s for a great cause—raising money for research into spinal cord injuries,” she said, and he nodded.

  “Hear you’re supposed to surf.”

  “I don’t want to talk about this. You know that.”

  “I know that you’re not helping yourself. If you can’t do it, don’t you think you need to set up a replacement?”

  She pulled away from him, but he took her back into his arms. “Be careful. You don’t want anyone to think there’s trouble in paradise.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Thought you were having fun driving your family crazy?” He kissed her, wasn’t surprised when she pulled him in closer as the heat rose between them. But he stopped before either of them got carried away, and for a few minutes they danced in silence.

  “Aunt Edna likes me better than Evan,” he said finally.

  “Aunt Edna thinks Frank Sinatra was her lover.”

  “She did mention him an awful lot. And she thinks you go to topless beaches and I didn’t disagree with her.”

  Carly started to laugh and saw he wasn’t kidding. “You didn’t.”

  “Wasn’t that part of our cover story?” His hand slid behind her neck, and with strong, competent fingers he massaged away some of the tension she held there.

  “Mmm, that feels nice. Don’t stop.”

  He didn’t, leaned in close to her ear to murmur, “You sounded more sincere when you said those words this morning. Although you were louder then—when your legs were wrapped around my waist.”

  She heard the giggle coming from her mouth, couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. “Have I thanked you for coming yet?”

  “Which time?”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “I made a promise,” he answered, flicking his eyes upward to meet hers.