by Tate James
Straightening my spine, I stalked up to him. Opening my mouth, I intended to give him a piece of my mind, but nothing came out when I caught sight of what was in his lap.
It was a sketchbook.
The drawing was… amazing, but his talent wasn’t what had me sinking to my knees beside him as if in a trance. The sketch was of him and my father, standing side by side here at the river. They were both grinning happily, their arms over each other’s shoulders while they triumphantly held up large fish.
My gaze caught on Tatum’s smile. He looked so happy. I remembered him being serious, even as a child, and our meeting earlier hadn’t shown much in the way of warmth or happiness from him either.
My chest felt tight, and my eyes were burning. Seeing the best friend I’d been taken from standing by the father that didn’t want me hurt. Envy, anger, betrayal, and joy at seeing them so happy were a confusing mix of emotions.
Switching my gaze to my father, I took in the age I didn’t remember being there, the lines around his eyes and mouth and the slight slump to his shoulders, as if life were weighing him down even during such a happy moment.
Looking up, I came face to face with Tatum staring down at me. I hadn’t realized we were so close. My breath caught, but neither of us moved away. He frowned, sorrow swimming in his golden eyes, and lifted his hand, using his thumb to brush away a tear I hadn’t known had fallen before he feathered it down my cheek and over my lips.
“Who was he?” I whispered, though what I really wanted to ask was why didn’t he want me? If my question surprised him, he didn’t show it. He smiled sadly and patted the ground next to him. I sat stiffly as he turned to look over the river, his eyes glazed as if he saw something other than the view.
“My father changed after my mom died,” he started, his deep voice hushed and gruff. “He got… mean. Your dad was there for me, practically raised me. I know you’re still mad at him, but he was the best man I knew. I remember when he… ”
I listened, rapt, as he told me about the father I didn’t get the chance to know. He told me about the good times and the bad, but he never lost the affection and deep respect in his tone. The man he spoke of sounded honorable, brave and loving, nothing like a man who would send his only child away. But he’d done exactly that. I couldn’t reconcile the man Tatum described and the one who’d sent me away so callously. Learning they were one in the same left me feeling even more confused about him.
Remy got up after a while when minnows in the shallow water caught his eye. I listened to Tatum talk and watched Remy bite at the water, the fiery colors of the sunset backlighting him. Digging my camera out of my purse, I snapped half a dozen pictures, unable to stop the smile tipping my lips. The furball’s burdenless joy was infectious, and before long, Tatum and I were both laughing at his antics.
“Thank you,” I whispered, glancing at Tatum quickly.
“Anytime, Butterfly,” he answered just as softly.
Surprisingly, he sounded like he actually meant it. I smiled sadly at his use of the nickname he’d given me so long ago and swallowed hard, strangely feeling the urge to cry. “We should be getting back,” I murmured, standing and dusting myself off.
He grunted in reply and went back to sketching, as if we hadn’t just talked for an hour. I paused for a moment, waiting—wanting—more, but finally turned away when I realized that was all he was giving. Thankfully, Remy didn’t need any prompting and followed on my heels, only stopping for a second to lick Tatum’s face before running after me.
The walk back to the house seemed to take forever, and the sight that greeted me when I arrived wasn’t exactly a welcome one. I recognized Krew’s motorcycle in the drive and, while I was curious to find out more of the man he’d become, I was feeling emotionally raw after my meeting with Tatum.
I knew better than to run this time though. He’d just catch me again.
5
“My Mer,” Krew called out in a cocky tone, standing up from where he’d been sitting on the porch in my father’s old rocking chair. “Should’ve known you’d be with Tatum.”
He was still wearing those tight jeans and the black shirt that showed off his muscles. I had to tear my eyes from his body, knowing my resistance to his pull would start to disintegrate if I looked any longer. All the guys had grown into sexy, self-assured men. I couldn’t help but wonder what they thought of the woman I’d become.
I let out a slow exhale, preparing to ask him to leave. I was emotionally drained. Between being back home and seeing all of them again, I needed a night to relax and decompress. But he spoke before I could.
“You hungry? I grabbed some burgers from the diner and apple pie. I remembered that it was your favorite,” he said with a sheepish grin, once again reminding me of the boy I once knew.
As tempting as the offer was, I was about to refuse him when my growling stomach answered for me instead, making us both laugh. Seeing Krew at my lunch with Denver made me so nervous I couldn’t stomach eating the rest of my meal, which meant I was absolutely starving now.
I decided against inviting him inside after letting Remy in. I closed the door behing the dog and motioned Krew to take his seat while I took the rocker next to him. By some silent agreement, neither of us spoke. Each of us practically inhaled our dinner as fireflies danced around outside, illuminating my father’s yard with twinkling lights. I had so much I wanted to ask Krew but didn’t know where to start.
“So what have you been up to?” he asked, breaking the silence just as I abandoned my half-eaten burger for the apple pie.
I’d always had a sweet tooth. One of the perks about being an adult was no one could tell you not to eat dessert first.
“I’m a photojournalist,” I replied, and pride swelled within my chest. I’d worked hard to get where I was. Journalism was a cut throat industry where everyone was willing to bulldoze over you to get to the top, but I’d made it.
Krew looked at me and bit back a smile. “You always were attached to that damn camera,” he chuckled. Back when we were kids, each of the guys hated having their picture taken. I had to get creative if I wanted to get them on film, and perhaps not surprisingly, those skills had followed me to my career. “Do you like it?”
“I love photography and seeing new places. I get to travel a ton, but that means it’s hard to settle down. Sometimes, I miss just taking photos for fun. With my job, I see a lot of the worst in people. I go where the story goes, and most stories these days are far from fluff pieces,” I admitted.
“So no boyfriend then?” he asked just as I took a bite of apple pie. The sweet filling and flaky crust made me moan and almost forget what he’d asked.
“No,” I mumbled with my mouth full before swallowing. “No boyfriend. Don’t really have the time.” Krew looked off towards the tree line, a small smile quirking up in the corner of his mouth. “What about you?” I asked, and for some reason, I was nervous to hear the answer. Although I knew, realistically, the guys had moved on, it still made my chest feel tight to think of them with anyone else. In my mind, they were still mine.
“No, there’s no one. I’ve dated some, sure. But they weren’t you, Mer. No one was ever like you,” he confessed with none of the pretense or hesitation anyone else would have had with such a statement, staring at me as he did. He said it like it was perfectly reasonable to admit you were still holding onto the childhood love you’d had fifteen years ago.
I warmed at that, caught in his shadowed green eyes and seeing the truth behind his words. My heart swelled, filling my chest with hope and affection. I, too, struggled to date. I compared every man I met to the three boys of my past, and none of them ever really measured up to their memory. Fifteen years of separation did nothing to dull the longing I felt. If anything, it had just intensified.
But I wasn’t as brave as Krew. Instead of returning his confession with one of my own, I dropped my gaze from his and asked the question that had been burning in my mind since our reunion earlier. “So, you join
ed your dad’s club, huh?” I questioned.
I wanted to learn more about their lives now. Seeing Krew with his father at the diner was jarring, and I still struggled with the idea that they were working together. For as long as I could remember, Krew had despised the man. I could still remember those nights when it got really bad. Krew would ride his bike to our house in the middle of the night, and Dad would let him sleep on our couch.
Krew swallowed and took a moment to respond. I hoped he didn’t think I was judging him; I just wanted to understand why. And after going through those files in my dad’s office, I knew that there was more evil hidden in Randall Strickland’s snarl than I originally thought. I just hoped Krew wasn’t in too deep.
“That’s actually why I’m here,” Krew sighed. He balled up his napkin in his fist then shifted some to face me. “You have to leave, Mer. You can’t stay.”
Pain sliced through me like a knife as a memory pricked my brain. I was sitting in this very spot when my own father said he didn’t want me. I wasn’t planning to stay. My life was in Nashville and on the road. But the possibility of finally feeling at home had been like a full breath when I hadn’t been able to breathe deeply in years. My eyes went glassy with emotion, and I shut them, trying to push back the memory.
“You have to live with your mother now, Sweet Pea. I know you’re upset, but it’s for the best. You can’t stay here.”
When I opened them again, Krew looked heartbroken.
“Why?” I whispered.
Krew tossed the rest of his food in the bag before cupping my knee with his big hand. At the touch, a shiver traveled up my spine, and I bit my lip. “It’s not safe,” he stressed.
I stared into his beseeching eyes, seeking out all the secrets he wasn’t willing to tell me. “Does this have to do with your father?”
“Yes,” he rasped.
“Are you going to tell me why?” I asked, though after seeing those pictures in my dad’s office, I thought I had a pretty good idea.
“No.”
I nodded my head before standing up, his hand falling away with the movement. It was unfair to expect him to trust me after being apart for so many years, but the similarity of this situation to that day so long ago had my temper flaring up. Dad never explained why he pushed me away, and now Krew was doing the same.
“Well. I’ll be gone in two weeks, once this house is packed up. You won’t have to worry about ever seeing me again,” I clipped, giving him a dismissive smile before turning to go inside.
Krew stood and grabbed my elbow, trying to pull me around into a hug, but I stayed firm. He couldn’t hold me and be sweet one minute then push me away the next. “Mer. It’s not like that. I want to see you. We just have to wait until—” he cut off.
“Until what, Krew?” I pressed, rotating to look up at him, standing just a little too close.
The static tension between us was palpable. I felt his heated gaze as he stared down at me through every nerve ending in my body. The need to kiss him, to touch him, to feel him after so long, crackled between us. Our past was filled with innocent affection, but there was nothing innocent about the passion flaring between us now.
“Until it’s safe,” he growled out before crashing his lips to mine.
This wasn’t a sweet reunion kiss, or even a gentle, loving embrace. We were fighting with our touch. Nipping and claiming one another while forcing the pain away. Krew guided me to the front door and kicked it open before picking me up and walking us to the couch.
“You taste so good,” he murmured into my mouth with a groan as he fell backward into the worn cushions, clutching me tightly to his chest.
I fisted the hem of his shirt, never lifting my lips from his as we worked together to drag it over his head. Pressing myself closer, I tore my mouth from his to kiss his neck, need making it impossible to take my time as I scraped my teeth along his skin.
“Why are you pushing me away, Krew?” I pressed once more as I spread my legs to straddle him. He felt so good beneath me. All muscle and heat. Krew was a man now.
“Because I still care about you,” he replied, his voice harsh and grating, the intensity and hunger he felt perfectly audible in his words.
I settled lower, gasping against his lips when I felt how hard he was against my core, how big he felt through his jeans and my slacks. Our teeth clashed as he threaded his hands through my hair. I flexed my fingers in response, digging my nails into his shoulders as if that would bring him closer to me, though there was no space between our bodies. Tension rolled off of us in waves while I ground against him, as we panted into each other’s mouths, greedy moans spilling from us both.
Maybe this was too soon, or maybe this wasn’t soon enough. Maybe the moment I stepped back in this town I knew that fate would lead me back to my guys.
Trailing my fingers down his abs, he shivered at my touch, and I pulled away to look at him. I wanted to see the man he’d become. But what I saw shocked me. Tattoos and scars covered his torso. A cigarette burn above his left pectoral muscle. A gash along his ribs. He was covered in the evidence of the abuse he’d endured. Every inch of his skin bore some new horror, and it broke me. I felt guilty. Had Krew been forced to fend for himself? Without me here, did he have no one to run to?
“Krew. What happened to you?” I breathed. There was a sob stuck in my throat because I knew his father caused most of the marks along his hard, tanned skin.
“This is why you have to go… for now,” he whispered, his voice rough.
I opened my mouth, to say what—I didn’t know, but paused when I saw my name tattooed right over his heart.
“Is that… ” I gasped, tracing the script with my finger.
“I never forgot about you, my Mer. And I never will. I just need more time to finish what I started, and I don’t want you here getting hurt,” he pleaded, his heated stare demanding that I understand.
I looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to read him. I thought I understood. Krew working for his father made no sense. The affection in Denver’s voice shouldn’t have been there if Krew was truly a criminal. The pictures in my father’s office, though, said another story.
I knew things weren’t adding up, and Krew alluding to some kind of plan or mission only solidified that feeling. Part of me wanted to jump in with both feet, to demand he tell me what was going on so I could help him. Part of me wanted to do as he insisted and leave before I stumbled onto something more damning than surveillance photos. I was torn between wanting so badly to see where this heat and passion between us could go, and remembering the life I’d built in Nashville.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I sucked in a deep breath. Opening them again, I leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You should probably go,” I finally whispered.
Maneuvering off of him, I stood and rubbed my fingertips over my lips while I watched him put his shirt back on. Once he was decent, he pushed up to his feet and crowded close, surrounding me in the heat of his body. He gently tipped my head back with a finger under my chin. He gazed down at me earnestly before bending to place a delicate kiss on my lips. “I want you here, Mer. I’ve wanted this for a while. But I need you to be safe.”
With that, he made his way to the door and, with a last glance back at me, he left.
6
When I woke up, it took a moment to remember where I was. Light from the rising sun was just starting to shine through the curtained window, illuminating my childhood bedroom.
Rolling over with a sigh, I looked up at the ceiling and smiled sleepily when I saw the glow-in-the-dark stars still fixed in place. I couldn’t see their glow in the morning light, but I knew they still shined just for me. I remembered the day Denver put them up there. I'd had a nightmare that my dad got hurt on patrol. When I told Denver about that dream, he used every last dollar from his paper route to buy them for me.
"Denver, you didn't have to do this," I said with a small smile. He took a moment to stare down
at me then carefully brushed a blonde strand of hair behind my ear before responding.
"Can't have my Snaps having nightmares, can I?"
Denver was always looking out for me, always making sure I was taken care of. When I moved to Nashville, it was hard to navigate the scary new place without his guidance, without the support of my three best friends.
As if on cue, a knock sounded. I sat up, letting the sheet pool in my lap as I stretched my arms over my head and squeezed my eyes shut while yawning. When I pried my lids back open, I saw that Remy, who’d slept at the foot of my bed, was standing at attention. He looked like a guard dog, standing over my legs with his ears pointed and his gaze laser-focused on the doorway. The knock came again, making him stiffen even more.
“You going to get that?” I asked with a smile.
He looked at me then barked once, as if saying yes, before he bounded off the bed. I listened to the click of his nails on the hardwood while I got out of bed and tied on my robe. I shuffled out of my room and down the hallway towards the door, wishing I’d thought to bring my slippers. I’d forgotten how cold wood floors could be in the mornings. Reaching the front door, I went up on tiptoe to look through the peephole. I smiled at the face waiting on the other side.
Denver Price.
I opened the door, and Remy started jumping up and down, doing a strange whining growl that perfectly communicated his excitement. I watched in amusement as Denver tried to juggle four cups of coffee and the energetic dog. He looked ridiculously handsome for seven in the morning, wearing a navy Henley shirt with the sleeves pushed up, revealing strong forearms, worn jeans that clung to his muscled thighs, and brown work boots. The sunrise haloed him, highlighting the reddish strands in his tousled dark brown hair.
"Whoa, Remy. Easy, boy, or we’ll both be wearing hot liquids," he warned, chuckling as he expertly dodged Remy’s very agile movements.
His laugh ended on a sputter as he raised his head to look at me. I watched his eyes widen and his pupils swell as he scanned me slowly from bedhead to bare toes before trailing back up, only to pause midway. Following his gaze down, I realized the tie of my robe had come loose, showing the black silk tank and shorts I was wearing. My sleepwear was supremely comfortable but left little to the imagination.