“It’s not about forgiveness, it’s about trust.”
“I’m trusting you now, Serena. I’m telling you as much as I’m allowed to tell you. I took an oath. There are certain things I can’t tell you, that I’ll never be able to tell you. But I’m not going to spend the rest of my life living in a cheap motel so I can be near our child, simply because you don’t trust me not to touch you if you don’t want me touching you.”
He got up and walked to the door. “Everything changed for me today. I’ve always fought for my country, but it’s never been this personal. I wish you could forgive me for everything I’ve done wrong. If I could go back in time I would. I’d take that bullet for him.”
And with that he was gone, leaving her stunned and aching and lost.
She didn’t wish that Steve wasn’t there, but neither did she not want Hunter to be there. The guilt wouldn’t leave her alone. From the beginning she’d felt guilty because she loved the way Hunter made love to her. She was grateful that Hunter was in her life. And then she felt guilty for being grateful.
“You’re a mess, Serena Hamilton,” she whispered.
And the reality hit her hard and swift. She wasn’t Serena Hamilton anymore. She was Serena Fletcher.
Chapter 26
Serena scrubbed the toilets, the bathtubs, the sinks, the floors in both bathrooms. Then she moved on to the kitchen.
She’d always considered herself a good housekeeper. But she didn’t think her house had ever shined like it was shining today. Her thought processes seemed to work best when she was busy, when she had something to occupy her hands while decisions occupied her mind. She cleaned when she needed to make a decision.
How in the world had she ended up where she was right now?
Married to a man who wasn’t living with her.
What was wrong with this picture?
She stilled, staring at the stainless steel sink. If she scrubbed it any more or any harder, she was going to scratch it, wear it out, reduce its shine.
Just like she’d diminished the shine on her relationship with Hunter.
From the beginning, she’d analyzed her actions where he was concerned, tried to categorize them, tried to justify them—something she’d done with no other relationship in her life.
She’d been afraid to feel, to trust her heart, to let him in. To trust him to stay. Steve, her mother, and even Jack in a way, had left her. She’d been looking for an excuse to hold Hunter at bay, to shield her heart, and she’d jumped on the flimsiest of reasons.
He hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her about his part in Steve’s death.
Without trust, there could be no love.
The truth was she didn’t trust her heart, her instincts, herself.
Because she’d never had to work at a relationship. She didn’t have a road map. She’d feared failure and so she’d ensured it.
She wanted a life with Hunter. She loved him. For his honesty, and his integrity. For the burdens he carried alone. She wanted to share those with him. But she had to accept that some she couldn’t share. But those that she could—she would.
She wanted his warmth and kindness and the manner in which he guided Riker.
She wanted Hunter. Needed him. For whatever time they would have.
The back door to the kitchen banged open, and she nearly came out of her skin.
“Mom, can I ride my bike over to the Sack ’n Go with Jason? Please, I’ll be careful. I’ll pay attention to everything.”
“Riker—”
“Please, Mom. I’m not a baby.”
No, he wasn’t. He was growing up and she had to learn to let go.
“All right.” She crossed over to the counter where she’d set her purse earlier and took out five dollars. Much more than he’d need, but she had to begin trusting him sometime, just as she had to begin trusting Hunter. “Get me a candy bar, will you? And get something for yourself.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
He was out of the kitchen, the door slamming in his wake before she blinked, and she heard him yelling, “Jason, I can go!”
She didn’t have a choice now. She returned to the sink and started scrubbing it, to keep her hands and mind occupied until he returned. Then she’d call Hunter, invite him over for supper. Invite him back into her life, into her bed, into their home.
The Roach Motel, as Hunter was coming to think of it, didn’t have a refrigerator in the room. If he hadn’t stayed in worse places in his day, he’d be more than a little unhappy with his current accommodations. But they were temporary. Tomorrow he was going to head back to Austin. He could drive in from there if anything came up that he was needed for. Staying here wasn’t accomplishing anything except to make everyone miserable.
He was finishing up his morning jog, considered jogging by Serena’s and stopping at the house for some water—then decided against it. He watched a solitary car pull away from the convenience store and decided that he’d just grab a bottle of cold water from there.
He went inside, acknowledged the young kid behind the counter, wondered when he’d started thinking of everyone under twenty-five as a young kid, and walked to the back of the store where the cooler was. He grabbed the water, then studied the array of snacks on the aisle across from the cooler. He could use something to tide him over until lunch. And he’d discovered that whoever cared for the vending machine at the motel wasn’t too concerned with following the expiration date recommendations.
He heard the door open, and automatically looked up and over the shelving. The customer went straight to the counter. Probably to pay for gas. But he was sure a twitchy fellow.
Hunter started to put his grocery items down, realized Serena’s worries were making him paranoid, and with a shake of his head, started to head for the counter.
Until he heard an unnatural high-pitched voice.
“That’s all I’ve got, dude.”
He crouched low and crept around the display until he could see the clerk at the counter with his hands raised, the guy in front of it waving a gun, reaching around into the cash register. Okay, this was going to get dicey.
He’d just decided how best to creep up on the guy when the door opened, the bell above it tinkled, and his blood turned to ice.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
The boys walked in, froze, the gunman turned.
“Hey, asshole!” Hunter yelled.
The gunman pivoted back around. An explosion.
Hunter and the bullet sailed through the air.
The bullet struck first.
Serena heard the sirens. Her heart did its usual thud against her chest. She stepped out onto the front porch—she told herself that she simply wanted to watch Riker ride his bike home from his first independent excursion to Sack ’n Go.
She wasn’t panicking. She wasn’t worried. She couldn’t see the Sack ’n Go from here because it was up the block and over a street. Not a busy street. It wasn’t a busy street and the boys didn’t have to cross it. They just had to follow the sidewalk.
It sounded like a full scale emergency happening in that direction, though. She thought she could hear police sirens and fire trucks and ambulances. She didn’t think Hopeful had that many emergency vehicles. She crossed her hands protectively over her stomach and tried to calm her pounding heart.
The boys should have been coming back by now. She wondered if they’d decided to drink their drinks there. That was probably safer than cycling one-handed. She should get her keys, lock up the house, and just walk down the block to make sure.
And embarrass Riker to death.
She heard a distant door close and looked to see Kelley crossing over onto her lawn. She smiled. “The boys should be heading back any moment, don’t you think?”
But something in Kelley’s eyes as she neared made Serena think they weren’t going to be heading back.
“Oh, my God!” She flew off the steps and started running down the walk.
“No, S
erena!” Kelley caught up with her and wrapped her arms around her. “The boys are fine. They’re not hurt. Jack just called.”
“The sirens?”
“There was an incident at the Sack ’n Go.”
“An incident?”
“A shooting. Jack wants me to drive you to the hospital.”
“Riker—”
“Is fine. He’s with Jack.”
“Jason—”
“Is fine.”
Serena knew something wasn’t fine, because Kelley was gripping her arms as though she thought Serena was contemplating a prison break. “I’ll get my purse.”
“Serena, Hunter was there, in the convenience store.”
She knew what was coming, before the words were uttered, another nightmare that she didn’t know if she could survive.
“Hunter was shot.”
Serena tore into the emergency room reception area, surprising herself with her calm and determination. She walked up to the desk. “I’m Serena Fletcher. My husband was brought in.”
My husband, my husband, my husband. The man living in the motel, the man who is always there when I need him, the man who doesn’t know I love him—
“Mom! Mom!”
She swung around, dropped to her knees, and took Riker into her arms. “Oh, baby.”
“He saved us, Mom, he saved us. Me and Jason didn’t look before we went into the store. He told me to always look, and we didn’t. We just walked in, and the guy had a gun and turned to shoot us. He was going to shoot us, Mom. But Hunter yelled and the guy turned back and the guy fired and Hunter got shot. It’s not like on TV, Mom, it’s not like on TV.”
“I know, Riker, I know.” She rocked him back and forth.
“Serena?”
She heard Jack’s voice, felt his comforting touch, but it wasn’t Jack she wanted, wasn’t Jack she needed. “Where is he?”
“Surgery. Come on. I’ve got us some chairs over here.”
He helped her to her feet, awkward as she was, trying to keep her arms around Riker. “How bad?”
“I don’t know. Upper chest. Shoulder. I’m guessing that it missed anything important.”
She allowed him to lead her to the chairs. “What happened?”
“Pretty much what Riker said. Sit here.”
She sat in an unforgiving, hard chair and drew Riker onto her lap. He nestled his head within the crook of her shoulder and stuck his thumb into his mouth. He hadn’t sucked on his thumb since he was four.
“Can you find something out, get some information?” she asked.
“Yeah, let me go ask if they know anything more.”
The hospital was small. Deliveries, broken arms, heart attacks. Would they even know what to do with a bullet wound?
She glanced over and realized that Kelley was holding Jason. She’d been barely aware of her following her in, of her coming to sit nearby. “How is Jason?”
“Shaken up. I should probably take the boys home.”
“I’m not going home,” Riker said around his thumb. “Not until my dad’s okay.”
He peered up at her, defiance in his eyes. “You said he could be my dad.”
“I know I did.”
“What if he dies?”
She wouldn’t be able to bear it. “He won’t,” she whispered, holding him more firmly. “I’d never forgive him. And he wants me to forgive him.”
The minutes ticked by as though time were on vacation: leisurely, slowly, in no hurry to get anywhere. Jack sat beside her, hunched over, elbows on his thighs. Kelley had taken Jason home, had offered to take Riker, but he’d been adamant that he wanted to stay.
“He probably saved our boys, Serena. The guy at the convenience store”—he shook his head—“he was high on something. He would have fired without caring that he was killing children.”
“Did Hunter kill him?”
“No, knocked him out cold, though, before he lost consciousness. We’ve got the guy down at the jail. You don’t expect things like that to happen in a town like this.”
No, you didn’t expect them, but still they were always possible.
“I don’t want to lose him, Jack.”
“I don’t think it’s going to come to that.”
But she knew it very well could. Not because of a bullet, but because she’d failed to recognize what she had before it was too late.
Hunter awoke from the darkness, aware of a dull ache in his left shoulder and his right hand wrapped around something warm and soft. The light in the room was pale, blinds on the window closed. He hated blinds. Hated anything that confined him.
He felt more than he heard the movement. He turned toward it.
An angel smiled at him. “Hi.”
He thought he spoke but he couldn’t be sure, he didn’t hear the words.
With tenderness, she combed his hair off his brow.
“Do you want some ice chips?” she asked quietly.
He thought he shook his head, but the movement seemed sluggish and he couldn’t be sure it had happened. “Beer.”
She laughed softly. “You can’t have a beer, silly. You’re on a morphine drip.” She lifted his hand, a hand that was holding something. “When you want more morphine, you push this button. Do you want me to push it for you?”
“No morphine. No drugs.”
She angled her head and looked at him with what he thought could be described as fondness. “Then you shouldn’t get shot.”
“Shot?”
Images began flashing through his mind like an obscene slide show.
A crazed junkie.
A terrified clerk.
Innocent boys.
“Boys,” he rasped.
“They’re fine. A little shook up, but fine.” She pressed her palm to his cheek and turned his head. “Riker is over there sleeping in the chair. Can you see him?”
With a blanket draped over him, the kid was curled up in the chair the way a dog might be.
“Safe,” he murmured.
“Safe,” she repeated. “He didn’t want to leave you.” She turned his head until he was looking at her again. “Neither did I.” Tears coursed down her face.
“Don’t cry.”
She laid her damp cheek against his bristly one. “I was so scared. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared.” She leaned back slightly. “I was so afraid that you were going to die, and you’d never know how much I love you. I love you so much, Hunter. You asked me to forgive you and there’s nothing to forgive. I was confusing you with your job. You have to keep secrets. I can live with that. I trust you. And you can trust me. And you’re going to drift off to sleep and not remember anything that I’ve said, but that’s okay because I’m going to tell you again when you wake up.”
He could feel the darkness calling him back, but she was wrong. He wasn’t going to forget what she said. She loved him. For the first time in his life he was going to take light into the darkness with him.
Chapter 27
She loved the way he trailed his hot mouth along her throat, seeking out the sensitive spot just below her ear, nipping her tender flesh, before swirling his tongue along the outer shell, ending the journey with a gentle nibbling of her lobe and endearments murmured in a voice raspy with yearning.
“Sweet, sweet, Serena.”
She combed her fingers up into his hair. “Hunter.”
They’d come to the beach house, just the two of them, because it was relatively neutral territory. There were things they needed to discuss, a future they needed to plan.
But once she’d carried her suitcase and his duffle bag into the main bedroom, she hadn’t seen any reason not to begin their discussion here. And no reason why it had to begin with words.
His movements were somewhat hampered by his healing shoulder, so she’d taken the initiative, been the seductress, slowly removing her clothes, then his, taking great care with his wound because the stubborn man wouldn’t take anything stronger than Tylenol, as though he were afrai
d he’d spill the nation’s secrets if he was too doped up.
With his left hand on her waist, he held her in place while his right hand roamed along her ribs, until he cradled her breast.
“You’re bigger.”
“Because I’m pregnant.”
He grinned. “I’m liking this pregnant thing.”
“They won’t stay big.”
“As long as they stay mine, I don’t care.”
“Oh, Hunter.” She wound her arms around his neck, blanketing his mouth, welcoming the thrusting and swirling of his tongue.
She drew back from the kiss, took his hand, and led him to the bed. “Lie down,” she ordered.
He didn’t need to put pressure on that shoulder by supporting himself. This evening she would be the one in control. She lay down against his right side, her body half covering his, her hand taking long sweeping strokes up and down the length of his body.
“Thought we were coming out here to talk,” he said.
“We will.”
She lowered her mouth and flicked her tongue across his turgid nipple, relishing the shuddering of his body beneath her. “I’ve missed you.”
He threaded his fingers through her hair, closing his hand on the back of her head. “I’ve missed you, too.”
She peppered his chest with kisses while her hands stroked and explored his broad shoulders, his flat stomach. Hers had begun to round out. Before long, no matter how much she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to lie beneath him.
But they would have years to make up for the nights when she couldn’t.
She tiptoed her fingers down his thigh and up, outside his thigh and inside. Down and up, lower and higher. There was so much strength in every aspect of his body. And tonight it was hers to do with as she pleased.
Boldly, she straddled him, dipped her head, and kissed him. Deeply, provocatively. She loved the taste of him, the feel of him between her thighs. In this position, she gave his hands easier access to her and he took advantage, to knead her breasts, to caress, to stroke. To stoke the fires that he alone could build.
She eased down, and he was waiting for her. She held his gaze as she sheathed him to the hilt.
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