by Erika Kelly
It was all about time management. He needed eight hours of sleep and four hours of training. Another hour with his coach to review the day’s work. The rest of his time belonged to Ruby, and that included getting her set up with a nanny.
There weren’t enough hours in the day to give a relationship with Delilah the attention it deserved. Maybe if they’d met at a different time—no. She still lived in New York.
The discussion was a non-starter. He had no more room in his life for Delilah than she had for him in hers.
He’d been too abrupt, though, so he’d talk to her about it when he got back from his run. And then he’d let her go about her business with the competition, while he took care of his.
Turning back around, the walk to his shower felt like a death march.
But he knew that, as soon as he changed the channel, he’d be fine. That’s how it’s always worked.
Sucked, though, to get a taste of something he couldn’t keep.
Chapter Thirty-Four
You’re an idiot.
Delilah lifted a golden pear out of one of the boxes of goodies Lachlan had just dropped off from the Farmers Market.
She could not believe she’d slept with Will last night.
Why did she do this? Get involved with the guys she worked with?
With Marco, it had been fun from the start. Stolen make-out sessions in the pantry, sneaky hands in the busy kitchen. Day-long rides on the back of his Harley along the Hudson River. Fun.
But with Will—sensation tore across her skin. That had been the hottest sex of her life. He’d been so intense, so powerful, so…God. He’d devoured her. She couldn’t stop thinking about his big, strong hands, the way they’d worshipped her.
Stop it. She lifted a pear to breathe it in. Mm, just perfect. It would be juicy and sweet. The grainy fruit with a creamy custard and a buttery crust…yes, a tart would be perfect. For the second event, celebrating the opening of Owl Hoot’s outdoor amphitheater, they needed to create picnic baskets. She’d come in third the first competition; she’d be damned if she scored lower in the second.
She looked down at her notes.
Duck and wild mushroom terrine with a crusty baguette.
Mediterranean potato salad with feta and olives.
Berry and custard tart.
Picking up a pen, she scratched out berry. Once she’d seen the glorious, ripe pears, she’d known she had to incorporate them somehow. Oh, what about a baked chocolate cream with ginger-poached pears?
Too messy for a picnic
She’d stick with the tart.
The back door rattled, and voices filled the mud room. Ruby chattered, and Will answered in his deep, sexy voice.
She’d had that voice in her ear last night. It had made her toes curl.
Desire streaked through her, a meteor lighting up all her secret places. He didn’t need to see her reaction to him, so she went to the sink and flipped on the faucet. Pumping the soap dispenser, she washed the pear. She’d slice it up for Ruby. She’d love it.
A wall of heat came up behind her, caging her in. His big body stood too close. What the hell did he want? He’d made himself clear that morning.
Maybe now wasn’t the best time for a relationship, but for her…he was worth it. Worth the sacrifice. Obviously, he didn’t think the same about her.
But this was his house. She was his guest. Glancing up, she expected to see an apology in his eyes for being so cold to her. Instead, she saw impatience.
“Can I wash my hands?”
“When I finish.” She didn’t know why she’d held her ground. It wasn’t like she hadn’t cleaned the pear enough. But she was pissed at him—no, herself. God, she didn’t know. Nothing made sense. They’d been so close last night—she’d felt so comfortable with him, so free. And then he’d ruined everything with that kiss-off. I have to stay on track.
Okay, Will. Sorry for cutting in on your eight hours.
He stepped closer, reaching around her for the soap. His big, sweaty arms boxed her in, his thighs touching the backs of hers. He lathered his hands. “Let’s not make things uncomfortable for Ruby, okay?”
He was right. “I won’t.” Of course, he was.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you, and we can talk about it later, but Ruby picks up on everything, and I don’t want a strained, weird vibe in her home.”
“I know.” She didn’t need to be bitchy. It wasn’t like they’d made each other promises. They had gotten carried away, and it had been great. “It was just sex.” She’d meant to lighten the mood, but the way he flinched—his arm grazing her bare skin—made her sizzle down to the soles of her feet. “Lackluster at that.”
“Right.” He held her gaze—hard, intense—but his words came out nonchalant. “Basic.”
“Yep. I’m all about the extra.”
“Never settle, Delilah Lua.” He clamped down on what might’ve been an awesome grin. “Never settle.”
She set the pear down and turned in his arms. “So, we’re good?”
He gave her that burning, hungry look that made desire churn and a flash fire race across her skin. “We’re good.” And then he put a hand on Ruby’s head. “I’m gonna hit the shower. You okay to stay down here with Wally?”
“Go wif you.”
He lifted his sister and headed across the living room. When his foot hit the bottom stair, he turned to her. “For what it’s worth?”
She waited.
“It was spectacular.”
Thwack. An arrow struck a nearby tree trunk. “Hey.” Will stopped running, not taking any chances with Ruby on his back.
Her little legs kicked out. “Gee-yup, gee-yup.”
“Lachlan?” He shouted so loudly, Ruby’s little body jerked. “Sorry, Rubes. Your uncle’s armed.”
“Will?” Emerging from the trees with his compound bow and arrow case, his uncle stepped into a patch of sunlight. “What’re you doing here?”
“Morning run.” He hadn’t intended on showing up here, but with his brothers gone and the weight of their sister’s care bearing down on him, his body had taken him in the direction of his uncle’s cabin deep in the woods.
Uncle Lachlan approached, his gaze fixed on Ruby. “She doing okay?”
No. “I guess.” She’d been with them for three weeks, and she still wasn’t sleeping through the night or eating regular meals. But what was normal for a two-year-old who’d just lost her mom?
Lachlan set the bow down. “You want to come in?” But he’d already turned back, tromping through the high brush. Will followed him to his cabin. Given how deep in the forest his uncle lived, Will always expected the place to be dark and moldy, so it never ceased to surprise him to find it sun-flooded with comfortable furniture and stainless steel appliances.
His uncle went right for the refrigerator. “I got tea. And Delilah made me some fresh-squeezed lemonade with the fruit I dropped off for her this morning.” He glanced at Will. “But you probably want water.”
Delilah. She hadn’t smiled at him in four days. Hadn’t touched him since that night in his bed. And he felt it. Every second of the day, he missed her. “Sure, yeah.” He shrugged off the backpack and helped Ruby out of it. Checking around for anything harmful, he found a stack of survival books on the coffee table, fossils on every flat surface, and a basket of toys in the corner.
Holding Ruby’s hand, he led her over to it. He recognized the old plastic music box record player with its brightly colored discs. “You kept our toys?” He crouched, setting the yellow disc on the player and lifting the arm to get it started. “Hey, Rubes, you want to dance?”
With an eye on Lachlan, she shook her head. But she peered into the toy box with interest. He rooted through it, making sure there were no small parts or broken bits, and thinking it was pretty damn sweet that his uncle had gone to this effort in anticipation of a visit from his niece.
It was nice. His uncle didn’t socialize much—Will had never seen him with a girlfriend—b
ut he was making a real effort with Ruby.
Seemed like all the Bowie men had some issues with their hearts. He thought about Delilah’s perspective on why he hadn’t had a girlfriend before and, while it rang true, she was wrong.
He hadn’t had one because he hadn’t met her yet.
He’d never felt this way about anyone before. And he didn’t know what the hell to do with it, because it was fine to spout shit about her being a houseguest and Callie’s friend, but he’d blown past all those excuses. He’d gone and fallen for her.
For a woman who’d never stay. The only reason he had her at all was because she needed to win the start-up capital for her restaurant in New York City. Jesus, why was he thinking about this shit?
She’s leaving, so cut it out.
“You find a nanny yet?” His uncle came into the room with two glasses of water and a sippy cup.
He had a sippy cup? That touched the hell out of Will. Taking the glass, Will sat on the arm of the couch. “I found one, but I haven’t hired her yet. She’s coming out this Friday to spend the weekend with us. We’ll see how it goes.”
“You’re careful. I like that.”
“She’s had enough loss. I can’t have people coming and going.” Like Delilah. “I have to know that whoever takes the job fits with our family and in this town. And I have to know that she’s good with Ruby.”
“You sure about this Freefest thing?” His uncle watched him, concern in his eyes.
Lachlan didn’t like to get in people’s business, but Will knew what he was thinking. “I don’t have a choice. The next time I hit the starting gate, it’s going to be free and clear. No innuendo, no shadow of doubt in anyone’s mind.” He watched Ruby play for a moment. “Besides, Dad doesn’t deserve to have his reputation dragged through the mud.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Lachlan dropped into a high-backed leather chair. “But he wouldn’t want you trying to prove shit to the world. He didn’t care about any of that. He just cared about you boys.”
“He’d want that gold medal.” He thought of the glass case his father had built for Brodie all those years ago. It stood empty. It was on Will to fill it.
“He didn’t give a damn about medals.”
“Right.” His uncle had always revered his older brother.
“You think that trophy room was about him?” He waved a hand. “Your dad didn’t care whether you won or lost. He just wanted you to work hard and stay focused. It was all about building your confidence.”
“The room he built proves otherwise.”
“He didn’t build a trophy room.”
Will eyed him skeptically.
“You don’t remember how that got started?”
“No.” It had always just been there.
“That used to be a laundry room. After every event, your dad marched you boys upstairs and made you strip out of your onesies and wash your own clothes.”
Will smiled. When he was a kid, his dad had dressed them in one-piece snowsuits. He and his brothers hated them. Not only because they weren’t cool, but because they were restricting. Will didn’t always want to ski with a coat.
“One time, you left your medal on the dryer. Marcella found it and hung it off a hook, so it wouldn’t get lost. Next time someone won a medal it went on the same hook. You guys put them there—not your dad. He figured it meant something to you boys, so he turned it into a trophy room.”
Holy shit. “I didn’t know that.”
Lachlan shook his head. “Your mom sure did a number on you boys.”
“My mom doesn’t have anything to do with the trophy room. She was long gone by then.”
“I’m not talking about the damn room. I’m talking about the ideas she put in your head. Sure, your dad was competitive. That’s why he was so successful, but when it came to you boys? He wanted what was best for you.” Lachlan stared into the cold fireplace. “But that’s all you heard from her when you were little, that your dad was too competitive, too detached, too…heartless. He wasn’t helping her with you boys. He worked too hard. Everything wrong in her life was your dad’s fault. And if she didn’t get her way, she lashed out. Made everyone else the bad guys. Always the damn victim.” His shifted his gaze to Ruby. “Didn’t like seeing her do it to Ruby. What two-year-old wants to try on dresses? But somehow it’s the kid’s fault for not cooperating.”
Will glanced at his sister, but she was too absorbed in a board book to pay attention to their conversation.
“She did the same thing with you.”
Will’s body went on alert.
“Acted like you boys were out to get her.” Lachlan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Sure, you kids ran around like wild animals, but where was she? What was she doing to tame you? Did she discipline you? Take you on a hike? To the damn park? Did she once take you to the lake?” He waited for Will to respond.
“Not that I remember.”
“You don’t recall because she didn’t do anything. She just let you run wild and then told Mack to do something about it.” His eyes narrowed. “And then blamed you when things went wrong.”
Will’s blood slowed, as he processed every word Lachlan said. “Well, I was the instigator.”
“Yeah, that’s what she kept telling you. But it’s bull—” He shot a look to Ruby. “Crap.”
Will’s axis was tilting, and it mattered.
“Let me ask you this. If your dad had been retired at that point, what would have happened the night Brodie got hurt?”
Will didn’t have to think about it. “He’d have gone with us. It would have been his idea.”
“That’s right. Or you’d have asked him. You only snuck around because your mom wouldn’t let you do anything. Unless you played quietly with Legos or puzzles, she didn’t approve of anything you did. She made you feel like you betrayed her very soul when you brought home a grass stain. If you broke a plate, you had it out for her. That’s why your dad retired. Once she left, he knew he had to change the world for you boys.”
He did change my world.
Every word hit the target. Missing pieces locked into place, making the picture of his childhood form into something that made sense for the first time.
Lachlan got up and went to the window, gazing out onto a perfect July day in the Tetons. “By the look on your face, I’m getting you didn’t see any of this. Makes me wonder.”
“Wonder what?”
He faced Will. “Who you’d be if you quit trying to get your mom to see you as a good man.” His features softened along with his tone. “She’s not going to get there, Will.” He shook his head. “She’s never going to be the mom you want her to be.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Laying on his back, staring up at a midnight ceiling, Will listened to the monitor.
Silence.
No rustle of sheets, no humming, nothing. Ruby had been quiet the last couple of nights, so did that mean she was sleeping? Probably, right? The therapist made her living off this kind of advice. She knew her stuff.
So, then, her technique had worked. He’d taught his sister to sleep through the night.
Turning onto his side, he punched the pillow to prop it up at just the right angle for sleep, but instead of feeling satisfaction at his victory, he felt uneasy.
What if she wasn’t asleep? What if she’d found a way to climb over the double gate he’d installed in her doorway?
He cringed at the thought of his sister trapped behind a wall of gates. Locked in her room like an animal in a zoo.
It sickened him. Forget it. First thing in the morning, he’d take them down. The therapist might be right about a lot of things, but the gates? Nope.
He drew up his knees. Sleep.
But all his senses were trained on the monitor, and the silence was edging him out. He couldn’t sleep until he set eyes on her. Pushing off the covers, he got out of bed.
As he stepped into his athletic shorts, he imagined what the stacked gates looked like from
Ruby’s perspective. All alone in a room that hadn’t become hers yet, peering through the diamond-shaped spaces…trapped.
That’s how I’d feel. I’d freak the fuck out.
I’m taking them down right now. That made him feel better.
He had done some good things. Like…signing her up for preschool, so that she’d start making friends in the fall. And the nanny would come for a visit on Friday, the day after tomorrow. He hoped it worked out—but if it didn’t, he’d keep looking until he found the right person.
All good stuff.
Of course, she still wasn’t eating actual meals yet. But she was well-behaved. She didn’t throw tantrums. She was a good kid.
Which meant she was adjusting. Getting with the program. So, gates aside, he’d done all right by her.
Had he followed Delilah’s advice, Ruby would be wandering the hallways, climbing onto his bed whenever she felt like it. Baking cookies at midnight.
A small part of him liked the idea of her baking cookies with Delilah at midnight. But that’s messed up. How was that healthy for a two-year-old?
In the glowing diamond-shaped puddles of moonlight outside her room, he stopped and listened. Not a single sound. If she wasn’t there…no, come on. He had a monitor. He heard everything. Her silence meant she was fast asleep.
But he didn’t even hear murmuring. Shifting. Nothing, for Christ’s sake. Just dead silence.
Anxiety thrummed his nerves, as he leaned over the top gate and peered inside. She liked to sleep with her butt in the air—cute as hell. Squawk bunched under one arm.
So it took a moment to make sense of what he saw.
Because her face wasn’t on the mattress, and her butt wasn’t in the air. Ruby sat in the middle of the bed, not moving, eyes wide open. Watching him. She didn’t reach for him. She didn’t scramble to get to him.
Dread pierced his heart, leaking acid into his bloodstream.
Is she hurt?