“You’ve never asked me about your parents,” Nana said suddenly as I tucked her in, unable to separate this moment from all the times she’d tucked me into my own bed as a child.
“I’m not interested in my parents,” I said lightly. It was funny how time changed things. I’d once burned with the desire for this piece of knowledge. I realized that I didn’t so much as know their names beyond the last name I’d been given.
“You should be,” she said. “They’re your family.”
“You’re my family.”
“Yes, but one day, I’m not going to be around anymore.”
“Are you going to move in with some hot lover, Nana?” I joked.
“Very funny.” She had a faraway look in her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.” I’d been at her side for every stage of her unstoppable illness, but the idea that she wouldn’t be with me someday still seemed impossible.
“It doesn’t matter whether or not you want to talk about it. It’s something we have to talk about. Wouldn’t you want to know how to connect with your family after I’m gone?”
“Not really, Nana, no.”
“But family’s important, June. What about your mother?”
I sighed. What I did know about my family history was that my mother was Nana’s daughter—her real daughter—that she had been so disappointed in that she had taken me away to raise on her own. The way Nana told it—or didn’t tell it—was that my biological mother had quite eagerly given me up.
“Nana, you’re more of a mother to me than she ever was,” I said. “You’re all the family I need. I don’t want to reconnect with my parents. They didn’t care enough about me in the first place. Why should I care about them? Now, get some rest. We’ve had a long day, and you’re tired.”
“I suppose I am tired,” she allowed. “Good night, June. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Nana,” I said, an unexpected lump forming in my throat. What was wrong with me? What was going on with Nana? We’d never talked like this before. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought that she was preparing to go and die on me. At least I could blame this sudden spurt of sentimentality on rum.
“June?” she called as I was easing the door to her room shut.
“Nana?” I poked my head back in. “Do you need something else?”
“You’re awfully hard on Devon, you know.”
I took a few moments to turn that statement over in my brain. “How do you mean?”
“He’s obviously head over heels for you.”
I snorted. “Highly unlikely, Nana.” There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hot hell that Devon was in love with me. Did he want to have sex with me? Yes—that much was clear to me. But it wasn’t because he was in love with me. It was because I was a novelty to him, a completely ordinary woman who somehow kept turning him down. He was used to women throwing themselves at him, and I was a refreshing departure from the norm. That was the extent of the attraction. That was all.
“Open your eyes, June. He’s in love with you. Why else would we be here, in Hawaii, with him?”
“It’s really complicated, Nana.” She obviously had been picking up on some of the words Devon and I had been exchanging, the feelings we cycled through together, but I couldn’t pinpoint how much she knew about everything. It wasn’t a conversation I felt like having with her.
“Devon’s a nice boy,” she said. I almost turned the light back on just to see what kind of expression she had on her face. She had to have been joking.
“He tries to be a nice boy, maybe,” I allowed, “but he doesn’t succeed very often.”
“Look at where we are, girl,” Nana said. “Hawaii. I’ve never seen somebody try so hard in all my life. You should let him know, at least.”
“Let him know what?”
“That you see him trying. That you know it’s hard for him. Everyone struggles differently. You should know that.”
“Nana, the only struggling Devon does is deciding if he wants the filet mignon or the lobster tail, and then orders both just because he can.” I sighed. “You really need your rest, now.”
“Think about it, June.”
“I will if you promise to try and go to sleep.” It was like babysitting a child with her sometimes. I had to cajole her to do things.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
I shut the door and turned to face Devon, who had been standing there in the hallway for God only knew how long.
“I’d choose the lobster tail,” he said, his face unreadable. “I like seafood better than steak.”
“I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” I said, feeling sheepish and shitty.
“But you meant to say it.”
I sighed. “I don’t know what I meant to say. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” he said.
“For what?” What could he possibly be sorry for? He’d taken Nana and me to Hawaii, for God’s sake.
“For this.” He stepped forward quicker than I could react and kissed me square on the lips. He stepped away just as fast, putting some space between us.
I was so surprised and dazzled that I saw bursts of light behind my eyelids in the dim hallway. It was probably just the jet lag, and that I was tired from everything we’d done today. Or it might’ve been just how good that kiss felt. How right.
“You can kick me square in the balls,” he said seriously. “But I had to do it, June. I had to kiss you. I had to know what it was like.”
“And?” I whispered.
“And what?”
“What was it like?”
He was silent for several long moments, looking down at his feet, gauging his response.
“Worth the wait,” he said finally.
I wanted to say something, to do something, but I was frozen in place. Not only had he kissed me, he’d liked it. It blew my mind because he was so famous, and I was such a nobody, but it also did impossible things to my heart. I realized, in that strange moment, that I was falling in love with him, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
He left me standing there in the hallway, rejoining the party, and I meekly slipped into my own bedroom and went to sleep, smiling at the memory of his lips against mine, the fireworks that had gone off in my brain.
I woke up late the next morning—or at least late by Dallas standards. It was already midday back home, even though it was only dawn here.
I got out of bed to check on Nana, but she was already awake, dressed, and in her wheelchair.
“Who helped you?” I demanded sleepily, peering at her.
“I helped myself,” she said.
“You better not ruin this vacation by falling and winding up in the hospital,” I told her. “You’ll only have yourself to blame.”
“Don’t fuss at me,” she said, flapping her hand at me. “Don’t you think my hangover is punishment enough?”
I had to laugh. “Oh, Nana. Poor Nana. Let’s get you some breakfast.”
Devon was in the kitchen, cutting up fruit when we arrived, and I stopped short of the threshold.
“Good morning,” Nana said pleasantly, making him look up. I sighed and pushed her forward, unable to remain in the hallway any longer.
“There you all are,” he said, grinning. “Nana, I’m making you a local cure for what ails you. All my friends are drinking the exact same thing this morning.”
“I’m glad to know I’m in good company,” she said with dignity.
He tossed the fruit into a blender with some ice, doused it liberally with rum, and set it to mix. I waited until the machine came to a stop.
“Nice,” I said. “She can’t have that.”
“Live a little, June,” Devon said, winking at me. “You two are on vacation.”
“That’s just what I told her last night,” Nana said, taking the boozy smoothie that Devon had made her.
“Well, what would you like to
do today, Nana?” I said, trying to ignore the fact that she was, more or less, sucking down a daiquiri for breakfast. Jail was too good for me.
“I’m going to rest this morning,” she said innocently. “I think I’ve earned that. But I’d like for you two to do me a favor.”
“We can all wait to do something until you feel better,” I told her. “It’s early here. We have the entire day ahead of us.”
“I don’t want to ruin your kids’ fun because I had mine last night,” she said, waving away my concerns. “I want you to go into town and find something pretty for the house, something we can remember this wonderful trip by, June.”
“If you lay off the rum for the rest of the time, Nana, I’m sure you’ll be able to remember things fine on your own,” I told her.
“And I’d like a bouquet of those beautiful flowers I saw on our way here,” she continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “I think a vase of those would brighten up the kitchen table, don’t you?”
“Definitely,” Devon agreed.
“Nana, why don’t we just wait until this afternoon, so we can all go?” I asked. “I don’t want to leave you alone in the house.”
“If you want to hang around here and be bored while I take a nap, be my guest,” she said, slurping her smoothie. “But if I were you, I’d seize the day, girl.”
“Let’s leave Nana to her nap,” Devon suggested, raising his eyebrows at me. “Come on. I want to show you around.”
I didn’t know what to expect after that searing kiss in the hallway, but Devon was a perfect gentleman, introducing me to his friends and exploring the marketplace with me. He selected a delicate purple orchid from a stem, placing it in the rubber band of my ponytail.
“Beautiful,” he pronounced.
“The orchids are very pretty.”
“I’m not talking about the orchid, June.”
I cut my eyes at him. “I’m no Hollywood actress, Devon.”
“That’s why I like you.”
“Don’t.”
I gasped as he pulled me into a side alley, but before I could protest further, he kissed me deeply, just as hot, just as burning as last night.
“What are you doing?” I asked softly.
“Why can’t you accept the fact that you’re gorgeous?” he asked. “Accept the fact that we want each other, June. You know it, and I know it. Just let it happen. Tell me yes.”
I ached for him in places I didn’t know could ache.
“There are people everywhere,” I whispered.
“Then we better be quiet.” He unbuttoned my jean shorts, worked his hand beneath the cotton of my panties.
“They could see us,” I moaned as he found the place where I ached the most.
“Then we better be quick.”
He slipped his cock out of his trousers, and then it was the easiest thing in the world to wrap my legs around him, my back pressed against the backside of some building, and take him inside of me. It was the culmination of long days of tension, hours of need that I had tried to write off as being annoyed at him. With each pump of his hips, I let my head loll back, reveling in that pleasure.
It had been a long damn time for me, and Devon knew what he was doing.
I moaned once, too loud, and bit his shoulder to stymie any other noises. That was the last thing we needed—an audience.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered in my ear, his lips tickling the sensitive skin there. When I shuddered, he trailed kisses down my neck, nibbling the juncture at my shoulder. It was all I could do to stay silent. I wanted to scream my pleasure to the world.
“I could stay inside you all day,” he told me, and it sounded so fucking sexy. I imagined us taking our time, with nothing but sun-soaked hours to take our pleasure in each other. That would be so much hotter than in an alley, but I’d take what I could get.
“You need to come,” I told him.
“Ladies first.”
It was already late afternoon by the time we got back to the cottage, even though it seemed as if no time had passed at all.
“Nana, we’re home,” I said, putting the bouquet of flowers on the table. “Are you awake? Feeling better? Need another hair of the dog?”
She didn’t answer. I went through all of the bedrooms looking for her, but it didn’t really panic until I saw her oxygen tank left on the floor in the entryway.
“Where could she have gone?” I all but wailed, clutching my hair in two handfuls.
“Stop,” Devon admonished. “We’ll find her. We just have to think.”
“Her oxygen tank is right here,” I said, pointing viciously to the floor. “She needs it, Devon. She needs it to breathe.”
“She can’t have gone far,” he reasoned. “We’ll find her very quickly.” How was his voice so calm? Maybe if it were his nana, he’d be more upset. His logic enraged and panicked me.
“How can we find her if we don’t even know where she is?” I demanded. “This isn’t like her to just disappear. What if someone took her?”
“June, no one in this village would take your nana,” Devon said. “Maybe she just felt like getting out and getting some fresh air.”
“But in her wheelchair?” I moaned. “Without her oxygen tank?”
“Come on.”
Devon led the charge out the front door of the cottage, laughing shortly as he pointed at the wooden steps. I followed his finger to see some black streaks of rubber on the edges of the stairs.
“Goddammit, Nana,” I muttered. “Could you picture her taking the stairs like this?”
“Yes, yes, I can,” Devon said, chuckling. “Looks like Nana just wanted a little adventure. She wasn’t about to be cooped up in here all day long.”
“She’s the one who sent us on the errand,” I moaned. “Why would she do that if she wanted us to take her out instead?”
“The beach,” he said suddenly, snapping his fingers. “That’s where we’ll find her.”
I took off at a dead sprint, Devon on my heels. It made perfect sense. Nana had gushed about the beach scene in his movie, about how gorgeous it was, how badly she’d like to visit it. That’s why we’d come all this way, after all, no matter what Devon’s intentions might’ve been. It was so Nana could see the beach. I just didn’t understand why she didn’t wait for us, for me.
The path down to the water was treelined and littered with rocks, and I cringed when imagining her braving it by herself. I hoped she’d have accepted someone’s help to navigate down to the beach, but if she’d cruised down the stairs by herself, I wouldn’t put the rest past her.
“She’s there!” Devon shouted. He stood behind me but taller, able to see through the clearing before I could.
“Thank God,” I panted, grateful beyond measure that Devon had seen her and been struck by the notion that she was here in the first place. She was going to get an earful from me. This was insane, unacceptable behavior. Nana knew her limitations. It was the whole reason I lived with her and helped her. She needed me. She couldn’t be on her own.
“Nana!” I called, wading through the sand toward her wheelchair, my sneakers slipping on the surface, forcing me to lope. “You’re in trouble!”
My relief at finding her was lessened with the understanding that something was very wrong. Her oxygen tank wasn’t mounted on the back of her wheelchair like we usually had it rigged up. I wondered how she even got down here—how long she’d been here, alone on the beach.
“Nana, you’re grounded,” I told her as I jogged up. “Seriously. We’re going back to Dallas this instant. You scared the hell out of me. You couldn’t have even left a note? We would’ve taken you down to the beach, if you’d just told us you wanted to go.”
I said all of this, knowing it was still wrong. Knowing that I was talking to myself.
I knew it was wrong from the way her head lolled, liked she’d gone to sleep, but more permanent.
I slowed in my approach, ignoring Devon’s attempt to hold me back as I walked aro
und to her side.
Nana’s eyes were closed, and she was smiling. Her faced was turned upward to the sun that was slowly sinking toward the horizon, but she wasn’t Nana anymore. Her toes were buried in the sand, the waves washing up just shy of them, but her hands were too cold.
“June, baby, she’s gone,” Devon said gently, putting his hand on the small of my back.
I couldn’t understand what I was seeing, what I was feeling, as my hands grabbed at hers, squeezing them, trying to rub some warmth back into them, trying to call her back to me.
This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t happen. She needed me, and I hadn’t been there. She needed me, and now she was gone.
I needed her, and now she was gone.
Chapter 6
The gray ash faded gently into the tawny sand, and when the wave lapped the shore, I couldn’t tell one from the other, the water darkening them both, making them one.
“Would you like to say something?” Devon asked me, but I couldn’t turn to him, couldn’t look at him. I was mesmerized by the dust blending into the sand.
“It’s all right,” he said after I didn’t answer him. “We don’t really need words, do we? The waves say whatever we need.”
My eyes fluttered closed as the last of the gray became lost in the wet shoreline, and I listened to what Devon was hearing. Every time a wave came ashore and then was sucked back into the ocean, it was like a long sigh. I tried to breathe in time with the movement, tried to let the waves do my breathing for me, say the words I should’ve been able to say, but it was so hard.
Everything was hard.
It had been hard to find Nana on this very beach, dead, smiling at the very wave that moved now.
It had been hard to make a decision about arrangements, much easier to sit back and nod wordlessly as Devon made gentle suggestions.
It had been hard to come back here, at his suggestion, and harder still to open the cap of the urn and let Nana’s ashes vanish into the surf.
“I think she would’ve thought this was right,” Devon said gently, taking the urn from me, recapping it, and slipping his hand into mine. “Nana loved this place.”
KILLIAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 2) Page 40