“Yer in troooble, maaan,” Luis slurred, leaning against Patrick.
“Look who’s talking.” Patrick slid a shoulder under Luis’s arm and all but hefted him across the driveway. The kid had obviously been working out over the summer, and he weighed a ton. Finally, they stumbled into the house.
Older but well maintained furniture made up the living room, which was spotless and dotted with knickknacks from years ago. The walls needed to be painted, and Patrick would love to dig in, but Marisol would take his offer the wrong way.
“Please stay. I’ll be out in a minute.” Marisol took over then, ushering Luis across the comfortable living room to the back of the house, where her voice became a soothing hum.
Patrick shut the door and crossed inside to take a seat on the sofa, turning off the television and pushing a bright yellow crocheted blanket to the side. If he and Marisol were going to talk, he wanted her full attention.
She came out, her eyes dark, lines cutting into the side of her mouth. “Where did you find him?”
“On the road from the lake. He drank moonshine, but since he puked most of it out, he’ll be all right. Just check on him throughout the night.” Patrick tilted his head. “Come sit by me, Mari.”
Her hands fluttered together, but she moved forward to sit next to him. “Thank you for picking him up. He was driving.” She sighed and glanced down at her knees. “I taught him better.”
The woman was always blaming herself and finding fault with her skills as a guardian. Patrick shook his head. “This isn’t your fault. It’s normal and unfortunate behavior for an idiot teenaged boy. Believe me, my mom has tons of stories.”
Red tinged Marisol’s cheeks. “If you say so.” She glanced at the clock. “It’s late, Patrick.”
Yeah. It was definitely late. He’d wanted to have this talk with her over a nice dinner, but here they were, and he was tired of being in limbo. So he turned, grasped her arms, and settled her on his lap.
She teetered, both hands going to his chest. “What in the world are you doing?”
“This.” Sliding his hand in her hair, he tilted her head and covered her mouth with his.
CHAPTER 3
Marisol’s mouth opened in surprise, and Patrick took full advantage, sweeping his tongue inside. Warmth and sparks lit through her, and her mind spun. The grip on her neck was gentle and yet somehow firm, holding her in place.
The feeling of somebody else taking control, of having just a minute to feel and not think, swept through her along with need. Definite need that went way beyond want. Sitting on his lap felt right, and for the first time in so long, she felt protected.
He took her mouth, kissing her like he’d never stop. Her hands flattened against the strong muscles in his chest, while the firm thighs beneath her held her safe. There was so much hardness to his body that his gentleness seemed all the more impressive. Sexy and sure, he took the kiss deeper.
Her nipples peaked, and heat burned through her. She kissed him back, free for the tiniest of moments. All of a sudden, she wasn’t an overworked businesswoman or a struggling older sister. She was all woman.
Patrick Murphy’s woman.
A low groan came from the back bedroom, jerking her from the moment. She yanked her mouth free and listened, trying to hear above their ragged breathing. Nothing. Luis was all right.
She’d forgotten her intoxicated brother in the moment of passion. What had she been doing? Embarrassment straightened her spine one vertebra at a time. She drew away, and Patrick let her.
Lust glittered in his light blue eyes, and desire darkened his skin. A question, almost a demand, lived on his chiseled face.
If she said yes, they’d be in bed in a second. Naked and learning everything about each other.
God, her body wanted her to say yes. But she knew better. Her sister was pregnant, her brother was now drinking and driving, and she was responsible for them. For raising them. Frankly, she was doing a pretty shitty job.
She pushed against his chest. “I––I––can’t.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “It feels like you really can.”
She snorted a laugh. How could he be funny when they were both in pain? Taking a shuddering breath, she pushed away to sit next to him. “Patrick, I can’t start something romantic right now.” It wasn’t like he was asking for marriage, and she couldn’t blame him, but she couldn’t just start sleeping around. Not when she had her siblings to take care of. What kind of example would that be?
“You want me.” No ego and only fact leveled his tone.
She nodded. Why lie? “I do, but I can’t afford the complication right now. I mean, I don’t know.” Could she be any more wishy-washy?
He turned and lifted her chin.
Okay. She was liking this new take-charge attitude of his, and her girly parts needed to calm the hell down.
“Ah, Marisol. This feels so right, don’t you think?” He ran a thumb over her bottom lip.
The words caught in her throat because nothing had ever felt better. The idea of what he could do with his entire body for a whole night sent a shudder through her. Would she be enough for him? It wasn’t like she had tons of experience. A guy like Patrick had probably been with some pretty amazing women. “I need to take care of my brother tonight,” she said, the words sounding beyond lame.
Patrick nodded, released her, and stood. “It has been a long night, and you have Luis to deal with in the morning. But pretty soon, you and I need to have a serious talk.”
She stood, her knees shaky. Patrick was either all in or all out, and she knew it. He saw the world in clear lines, and whatever she told him, he’d take as the truth and go with it. “I know.” Her heart actually hurt, but she needed time to figure out the right words. What should she do?
He stood so tall and sure—so strong. Dark hair, intelligent eyes, a definite hero in a modern world. His brothers had chosen law and the military, while he’d chosen to be an EMT right at home to help people. In a crisis, there was nobody better than Patrick Murphy. The previous month, one elderly woman in town waited to call an ambulance after fracturing her ankle until she knew Patrick was on duty. He was that good.
Why couldn’t they just wait a few years for when Luis was in college, and she could really be free? But with Ginny and the new baby, would Marisol ever really be free? Ginny might be heading for a fall if Logan decided he wanted out, and what then? Marisol would have to once again pick up the pieces.
It wasn’t fair to ask a guy like Patrick to wait. But could she take a chance with him now?
As she walked him to the door, her body felt heavy. What was she going to do?
He paused. “Keep an eye on Luis, and if you need me, call me. He should be fine.” Without touching her again, Patrick strode for his truck, not turning around, and she had a sudden vision of her life if she let him go. Alone and lonely.
Sighing, she turned and locked the door, allowing the silence of the night to tick around her. What would it be like to live with a man? With Patrick? She’d been in her third year of college when her parents had died, so she’d quit to come home and raise her siblings.
She’d never lived with a man.
Sure, she’d had a couple of boyfriends before her parents had died, but nothing really serious. Could somebody forget how to have sex? The thought made her chuckle.
Sex with Patrick would be amazing—she just knew it. But being with him would mean more than multiple orgasms.
What would it be like to have somebody to talk to every day, to share problems with? Doubts crept in, like always. If she wasn’t enough for her siblings, and based on how crappy they were doing, she sucked…how could she be enough for a man like Patrick?
She hustled in to check on her brother. He sprawled across the bed, snoring softly into his pillow, so big and strong all of a sudden. When had he grown so much? Soon he wouldn’t need her at all—if he got his life back on track.
Drinking moonshine was one of the stupidest t
hings he’d ever done. The fact that he’d then driven his truck afterward made her nauseated. What if he’d hit a tree? Or another car? What if it had been Dillon Murphy, the sheriff, who’d found Luis? Her kid brother would be in jail right now facing a DUI charge.
Yet as he slept, she couldn’t help but remember the sweet, curly-haired toddler who’d followed her around every day, happy to just be with her. What had happened to that little boy?
Closing the door, she went back to the couch and turned the TV on. Since she’d have to check on Luis every couple of hours, just to make sure, she might as well sleep there.
A vehicle in the driveway caught her attention, and she jumped up. Was Patrick back? Her heart ripped into action and butterflies winged through her abdomen. If he’d returned, would she say no again? Her body still hummed from his kiss. She’d never wanted anybody like she did him. Throwing open the door, she gaped as Ginny stepped out of Logan’s truck and made her way to the door.
“Hi, sis,” Ginny said, turning to wave at Logan.
Marisol blinked. “Ginny. What are you doing here?” She winced. “I didn’t mean—”
Ginny turned and maneuvered by her and inside. “I know what you meant. I just wanted to see you.”
Marisol’s heart swelled. She swallowed and shut the door. “I’m so glad to see you, too, but it’s after midnight. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“Probably, but sometimes I get tired of resting, you know?”
Marisol nodded. Hope tried to flare inside her. “Are you moving back home with us?”
“I don’t think so.” Ginny walked around to sit in an easy chair, rubbing her barely protruding belly. “I was out with Logan, and it’s late, so I didn’t want to wake the Salts. I told them I’d probably stay here tonight.”
Expectant moms shouldn’t be out so late, but Marisol wasn’t going to lecture and risk Ginny storming off. For the first time in too long, all three of them were under the same roof, although Luis was pretty much passed out. Warmth infused Marisol, and she hustled around the couch to fetch the yellow blanket and fold it over Ginny’s legs. “Can I get you anything to eat? Are you hungry?”
“No, thanks.” Ginny kicked off her sandals and put her feet on the coffee table. “I just needed a break from the Salts and their hovering. I mean, I like having a family watch out for me and the baby, but sometimes it’s too much.”
Pain sliced into Marisol. “You have a family here.”
Ginny blinked and softened her voice. “I know, but it’s different there.”
Of course it was. Celeste was a real mom and knew how to take care of people. So far, all Marisol was doing was screwing up life for her siblings. She’d had no clue how to raise them. She sat on the sofa and turned down the television show. “How are things with Logan?”
Ginny smiled and all of a sudden looked carefree. “They’re good. Really good. In fact, his family reminds me of the Salts, you know? They’re so supportive.”
Unease ticked down Marisol’s spine. “I’m sure they are. But Ginny, you can’t just trade one family for another.” Yet wasn’t that what Ginny had already done once?
Ginny frowned. “I’m not. But I have a future to think about and need to do the right thing for this baby.”
A future with Logan? Already? Sure, them dating was okay, but talking about forever so soon? Marisol smoothed her hands down her yoga pants. “Do you see Logan as your future?”
“Maybe.” Ginny’s face turned thoughtful. “I mean, we both feel lost a lot, but when we’re together, we kind of find each other.” She laughed, the sound a little strained. “It sounds weird, but it feels right.”
There wasn’t a way to argue about that. “Are the Salts okay with you already dating?”
“They say they are,” Ginny said slowly, her gaze dropping to her slim feet. “But I don’t know. They see Jacob in this baby, and they lost him, so they’re holding on tight.”
Marisol sat up, her instincts humming. “That’s understandable. I mean, it’s Jacob’s baby, and now you’re living with them. They have earned a place in the baby’s life.”
Ginny flushed. “I know, and they’ll be great grandparents, I’m sure. I think Celeste is as maternal as Logan’s mom,” she added, referring to Sonya Murphy. “So if I need help, they’re there.”
“I’m there, too.”
Ginny blinked. “Oh, I know. But you’re not a mom, Marisol. You’ll be a great aunt.”
Ouch. Just how badly had she failed through the years? Ginny had always resented her acting like a mother instead of a sister, but even so, Marisol had tried. “So you’re really doing all right?”
Ginny’s chin firmed, and a strong light entered her brown eyes. “I am, and for the first time since the accident, I feel like I’m doing the right thing. That I’m on the right path.”
Marisol frowned, the hair standing up on the back of her neck. Something wasn’t right in the statement, but she couldn’t track it down. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Ginny’s eyes opened wide. “Nothing. You know everything.”
Marisol stared at her sister. More was going on with Ginny than she knew, and she just couldn’t figure it out. She bit her lip. “How are you feeling about Jacob?” It had been a surprise to learn that Ginny and Jacob had been dating. Then having him die in the car accident had nearly destroyed Ginny. The poor girl had been driving.
“I miss him.” Ginny picked at the blanket, her voice cracking. “It’s not just losing Jacob, you know? I’ve lost a possible future—one I really wanted. What we could’ve had.”
Tears pricked Marisol’s eyes, and she reached out to rub her sister’s shoulder. “I get that. What about the nightmares? They still terrible?”
Ginny sighed. “I still have them, but they’re not as bad since I started talking to Logan about them. He has nightmares about Afghanistan, and he shares those, so it’s like we’re helping each other to heal.” She leaned forward. “He’s so strong, and he makes me feel safe. It’s nice to feel…”
“Protected?” Marisol murmured, flashing back to the moment on the sofa where Patrick had held her close and made her wish for so much more.
“Yeah.” Ginny’s lip curved. “Logan will stand between me and any danger, even town gossips, and I like that. Whether or not I should, I don’t know.”
“You should.” Marisol smiled. “He’s a good man.”
“Yeah. He is.” Ginny’s smile slid away. “I don’t deserve him.” Something buzzed in her pocket, and she drew out a new smart phone to answer. “Hi, Celeste. Yes, I’m fine. Yes, I’m with Marisol, and we’re just catching up. Please stop worrying.” She paused and shook her head at Marisol. “Okay. Goodnight.” She clicked off and shoved the phone in her pocket. “I hate worrying her, but I just wanted to come home.”
Marisol stood, concern filtering through her. While she liked this new independence of Ginny’s, it might just be a dependence on Logan, and what if something went wrong between them? “Is Celeste all right?”
“Yes.” Ginny groaned and pushed to her feet. “She’s just concerned, but I’m okay. Or I will be.”
Marisol glanced down. “That’s a nice new phone.” A very expensive phone.
“Celeste bought it for me so she could get ahold of me whenever.” Ginny blanched. “I shouldn’t have taken it, I know. In fact, I told her that I couldn’t accept the phone, but she got so upset—”
“Oh, Ginny.” Marisol studied her sister. “It’s okay, you know? You don’t have to worry so much about everyone else.”
Ginny threw up her arms. “I know, but I feel like…” She blushed and then covered her face before taking several deep breaths. Finally, her hands dropped. Her lips trembled, but she smiled. “It’s just hormones. I’ll be okay, I promise. Sleep will help.” She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Marisol’s cheek before turning for the back bedrooms. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night.”
Marisol watched her disappear around the corner, her temples p
ounding. Her family was out of control, and she had absolutely no idea how to fix things. Outside, thunder began to roll across the sky, and soon rain bombarded the earth. It was a minor storm, nothing big.
She knew, somehow deep in her gut, that a much bigger storm was on the way. God help them all.
CHAPTER 4
Her family was a bunch of asshats. Dakota Alvarez drove recklessly out of town, pissed beyond belief after leaving Murphy’s Pub. Just who did Marcus think he was? The bastard had done nothing but desert them the first chance he got, and now he came home and sided with their pathetic mother?
Somehow that woman had made their father leave. Dakota just knew it.
She tried to tug down the too-short skirt on the leather seat and then just gave up. A whore, huh? Forget Marcus. Someday she was going to be a senator’s wife, and then everybody could just kiss her ass. They had no clue who she could be.
She pulled over and dialed the senator’s phone.
No answer.
Fury roared through her. Of course, he was busy, but lately…she’d felt him moving away. His concentration seemed to be somewhere else.
He was running for reelection, so maybe he was worried about it. The man was smart and powerful, so she didn’t see why he’d be concerned.
But a niggling doubt wouldn’t leave her stomach. Marcus had deserted the family the second he could get out of town. Her father had left, for whatever reason, and she was all alone. After everything she’d shared with the senator, he couldn’t abandon her, too. She wouldn’t let him. So she turned the phone around and sent him a quick text message, saying that if he didn’t answer her, she was going by his house.
Just how would his perfect, boring, old wife feel about that?
He answered immediately, and triumph roared right through her until she read the text. Oops.
I’M NOT A MAN YOU THREATEN.
She winced and quickly began to type. I KNOW, AND I’M SORRY. IT’S BEEN A CRAPPY NIGHT, AND I NEED YOU.
Several seconds ticked by. Finally, a text came in.
I’M VERY BUSY.
Take the Storm: Episode 6 Page 3