“At his offices in Jersey. He was somewhat damaged in an, hmm, accident, the last time he was here. He’s back home, recuperating. Catching up with business.”
“So, Garrett is your guy?”
“I don’t know whether I’d phrase it like that, but yeah, okay. When he’s here, we’re together.”
“Are you going to move to Jersey?”
“Move to Jersey? Me? Not fucking hardly. If Garrett wants me, he knows where to find me. I like my life. I like my job. Why should I give up everything for occasional hot sex?” Abigail chuckled. “Although, I must admit, sex with Glennon sizzles.”
Lorelei gave her friend a look. “Abbs, Glennon with a full leg cast and his shoulder in a sling? I don’t even want to know how you guys managed.”
“Trust me. Where there’s a will and the promise of such rewards at the end … .
Let’s say that we manage just fine, and leave it.”
Keko didn’t have an answer. If I did, I’d be able to deal with my own damned dilemma. “I can’t give up my life, either. I have people who depend on me for their livelihoods. I just took over my father’s company, and I need to make the business work. We have jobs lined up. How could I justify bailing out on my responsibilities?
MacBride can’t expect me to drop everything.”
Lorelei spoke, her voice soft. “Those are the choices we all face, Keek. Women living and working in a man’s world—strong women who are good at our jobs.”
“Yeah, but you are managing. You live here, in this awesome place. You have two incredible men who would die for you. Literally. You’re gonna be a mom and not give up your profession.”
“I’m one of the lucky ones, Keek. Nothing held me in D.C. that I can’t do here. If the NCS cuts me loose after the baby is born, I’ll free-lance with the boys. And I made those decisions in the clear light of day. We hammered out our decisions together. I’m as anchored to Sanctuary as are Adam and Lucian. This will be home to our children.”
Abigail picked up a section of piecrust with her fingers, ate it. “Yeah, and not all of us are headed for the mommy track. I’m not looking for a permanent relationship.
Don’t want babies. No offence, Lorelei, but I don’t need the whole domestic scene to feel complete. I like the way I live. Come and go when I please. When Glennon’s here, there are excellent bonuses—but that’s all.”
Keko’s coffee grew colder, the pie forgotten. And no one has answered the question: what am I supposed to do?
* * * * *
Sunday evening
The scene at dinner had grown ugly. Reactions ranged from curiosity to anger.
Keko continued to offer her point of view. “Look. I appreciate everything you folks have done for me. Everyone has gone above and beyond. But John left me a business that won’t run itself. Larsson crews depend on me to keep the jobs on schedule and the company solvent.”
Mac slid his chair back, got to his feet. “Kamaka has the talent and the skills. Let him take over.”
Kamaka shifted in his seat, held his hand up. “Whoa, hold on. That’s not my gig, man. I’ll do whatever Keko needs me to do, but I didn’t sign on to run the company.”
He glanced quickly at Keko, then shifted his focus to his dinner plate.
Keko met MacBride’s eyes. “Come to Boston with me. I’m sure the Boston PD
would happily make room for an ace sheriff with SEAL bona fides.”
“No can do. I settled here to avoid big town crime and bloodshed, not to jump back into the fray. I saw enough of that in the Navy.”
“Understood. You’ve chosen your career. I have a business to run. Neither of us can leave. Let me rephrase that. Neither of us chooses to leave. Have I missed an option?”
“You can run Larsson Demolitions remotely. I don’t have that luxury as sheriff.”
Keko rose, leaned forward on rigid arms, her wrists still wrapped. “I see. So, your job is more important—”
Lorelei jumped in. “Okay, people, calm down. Let’s ratchet this discussion back a notch. Neither career is more important than the other.”
Lucian leaned back in his chair. “What if you both took a leave of absence, took some time off to try to sort through the issues. Take the situation out for a test drive. See what works for y’all.”
“Won’t work,” Adam said. “Too soon.”
“And there we have it. Pared down to the bare bones.” Keko gave Adam a nod.
“Short, to the point. And, while I do appreciate everyone’s input, the arguments are moot. I booked tickets for Kamaka and me. We leave a week from today.”
The stunned silence immediately ramped up from zero to sixty with everyone talking at once. The look Mac gave her mirrored such pain that Keko dropped her eyes.
She didn’t see him leave, but she heard the back door slam shut.
Oh, hell.
” Um, Miss Keko, boss lady. I have some news.”
Keko whipped around to Kamaka.
Now what?
* * * * *
Sunday evening, later
“What do you mean, you’re not going home? When did all this happen?”
Kamaka actually blushed. “We were just, like, batting it around for fun while you were in the trauma unit. Lucian said I could stay at Sanctuary. I can cross train, study other disciplines. Learn to use and control my strength. Lose the whale blubber.”
He grabbed his love handles, which resembled the Michelin Man’s spare tires. “I thought we’d have more time to, y’know, discuss it.”
Flabbergasted, Keko’s jaw dropped. “And Adam? Adam Stone agreed to this?”
Lucian jumped in before Kamaka could speak. “We talked. He’s good with it.
Kamaka can actually earn his keep. We have a full schedule of clients for these next few sessions, so he can assist as he trains.”
“But who’s going to be my second, if you leave me?”
“Boss lady, I’m not leaving forever. Think of this as on-the-job training, or like you’re sending me off to college. If I were you, I’d tag Freak to take my place—that crazy fella eats, sleeps, and dreams explosives. Has a good nose, too.”
“Oh, goody. Freak lives on Cocoa Puffs drowned in Yoo-hoo, peanut butter wafers, and diet Coke. And keeps giant hairy spiders as pets.”
“Tarantulas.”
“Whatever. Giant hairy spiders.”
“Trust me, Freak’s your best go-to guy. Just keep him away from coffee. He gets enough caffeine with all the chocolate and soda pop, and you don’t want him awake for seventy-two hours at a time.”
Keko suddenly realized it was a done deal. She could raise a huge fuss, but all that would accomplish would be to make her friend feel more guilty than he already did. She wasn’t going to make any headway. Might as well accept this graciously. “All right. But he’s not moving in with me. Especially with the spiders.”
“Tarantulas.”
“Whatever.”
Kamaka lifted Keko from the wheelchair, gave her a huge hug.
“Makaha, you’re breaking my ribs and flattening my tits. I can’t breathe.”
“Kamaka. Oops, sorry, boss lady.” He sat her down again, kissed the top of her head. “I’ll e-mail every day.”
“See that you do, Pineapple Man. I’m not sure when we’ll see each other. I love ya, dude.”
Kamaka hugged her again, gently. ” Aloha, Kailani Holokai.”
” Aloha, hoaloha, Kamaka.” Tears pooled then spilled down her cheeks. Goodbye, friend.
* * * * *
Monday evening
Kamaka was leaving her. Well, actually, she was leaving him. Returning to Boston without him. Leaving Sanctuary, which had become more of a home than the dwelling she’d lived in since she was five years old. Leaving friends. Real friends.
Friends who’d saved her life—emotionally as well as physically.
And then there’s MacBride.
MacBride was Sanctuary to her, as much as Adam and Lucian and Lorelei. Be h
onest. More than Adam and Lucian, who helped to save her life, and Lorelei, her new second best friend.
So, what about MacBride? She snorted at the phrase, which rattled around in her brain while she spent the day organizing and packing. Look, Jiminy Cricket, get out of my freakin’ head, will ya?
Adam and Lucian disappeared into the workout room after dinner. Lorelei simply nodded when Keko asked to borrow Lucian’s Explorer, which had become Keko’s truck-away-from-home since arriving on Sanctuary’s doorstep. It was her first time behind the wheel since the explosion. The SUV was an automatic, so her black leather, laced ankle brace made things awkward, but not impossible.
Lucian had scoured the antique shops a couple of towns over and found a walking stick just the right height for Keko. The stick was black lacquer, festooned with a hand-painted garden of flowers and dragonflies. Instead of standard hospital wraps, she wore fingerless black leather Harley Davidson gloves, paired with leather HD
wristbands. Padded, rolled gauze protected her mostly healed hand fractures.
Keko had dressed in the blue backless halter-top that showed off her phoenix tattoo, and her black stretchy hip-hugging capris that went well with her Harley accoutrements. Her favorite black leather heels had been blown up, along with her bomber jacket—plus, her foot and ankle weren’t anywhere near ready for heels yet—so she made do with black suede flats decked out in blue metallic sparklies. The black ankle brace also matched her capris, so she thought she was doing well as a fashion-conscious convalescent. Her hair was gathered in a high chignon, skewered in place by long bamboo hairpins. She borrowed a blousy blue jacket from Lorelei.
The closer she got to town, the more nervous Keko became. There was no reason not to see MacBride, unless she counted on screwing up his life even more than she already had.
She parked the truck in the driveway, then sat there. And sat there longer. I handle high explosives, rigging equipment, and thirty-odd hard-boiled powder monkeys. This is ridiculous.
When MacBride opened the front door, she couldn’t read his expression. He just stood there. Tall. Strong. Silent. Looking down at her. He stood long enough that she began to fidget, leaned on her cane for support.
Oh God, this is stupid. I was so wrong to come here. Lorelei, why didn’t you talk me out of this? Why didn’t you act like the adult and snatch the keys out of my hand, then send me to my room? Threaten to ground me until I was thirty-five, like my father did in the good old days?
“Oh, wow. Uh, look, I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” She dropped her eyes, totally humiliated, turned to leave before she embarrassed herself further.
MacBride grabbed her arm, spun her toward him, shocked her speechless.
“You’re sorry to have disturbed me? Woman, you’ve done nothing except disturb me from the first damned moment we set eyes on each other. Oh yeah, you definitely disturb me—on so many levels I can’t keep count, and on both coasts.”
He pulled her into the house, closed the door behind him. Still holding her arm, he forced her to make direct eye contact.
“Just what do you want?” His voice came out as a snarl. “Shouldn’t you be packing?”
She stammered, cleared her throat, tried again. This was not going the way she imagined. ” Um, maybe a hello?”
“Larsson, don’t fuck with me. You made your choice. Kamaka is staying, you’re going back to Boston. So, exactly what are you doing here? Trying for another goodbye?
I think you said that already. Very clearly.”
“I … .”
“You what? Forgot something?”
She pulled her arm loose, set her cane against a chair, rubbed away the depressions in her skin made by his fingers. “Damn it, MacBride, you’re not making this easy.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Why should I?”
She lowered her head, muttered. “I don’t know what to do.” There it is, chief, the bald truth of the matter.
“What was that?”
This time her voice was stronger. “I said, I don’t know what to do. Did you hear me that time?”
“I’m not your Dutch uncle. I can’t tell you what to do.” He paced the room, came back to face her. “Do I frighten you? Or, is the thought of staying with me so damned repulsive that you’d rather scurry back to Beantown?”
“Of course not. How could you even think that? But you’re not the only one to consider. I have a company to run, employees to care for. They depend on me, and I’m not there.”
“Then sell out.”
She took a step back. “I beg your pardon?”
“Larsson’s is a viable international enterprise. John always had offers on the table—scuttlebutt like that gets around. Hell, you’d have top-shelf competitors hammering at the gates. Throw the business into the hands of a broker, get the best deal. If you play your cards right, you could be set for life.”
Keko was fair gobsmacked.
“You can’t be serious. I like my work. I’m good at what I do. My crews are the best in the world.” Her heartbeat rose as quickly as her temper. “How dare you!”
MacBride crossed his arms over his chest, stood spread-legged. He seemed taller.
Looked meaner. “Your crews? Those are John Larsson’s men.”
” Ooh, you bastard! ” She picked up a tall, fat, pillar candle from an end table, hurled it at MacBride with a good, strong, overhand pitch—and she didn’t throw like a girl. ” How dare you! ”
Even though he moved quickly, it wasn’t quickly enough. The heavy, spice-scented, wax column glanced off his thigh, hit the coffee table with an audible thud before the candle landed and rolled on the rug. ” Shit! What the hell is wrong with you?
That hurt! ”
She scanned the room for another weapon. “Sonofabitchin’ cocksucker. Those are my men! I earned the right. I paid my fucking dues. My father believed in me! My crews trust me!”
The tears came, and they weren’t crocodile tears. They were tears of righteous anger. She balled her fists up, screamed with pain from her damaged hands, which added to her outrage. “How fucking dare you!”
MacBride strode quickly toward her, before she re-armed.
She fought him, but he managed to overpower her without inflicting further damage to either of them. He pulled her close.
” Ahh, here’s the Keko Holokai I know. I thought we’d lost you, for a moment.
Here’s the bombshell raised by the great John Larsson to be the toughest, the best, the baddest, the boldest. With all the talents of the son he never had, packaged in a killer sexy body.”
“MacBride, you are such a humongous shit. You did that on purpose?” She struggled in his arms. The adrenaline still high, she freed a hand and without thinking, pounded her fist against his shoulder. ” Ouch, sonofabitch, that hurt.”
“You needed to remember what was important to you, instead of waffling back and forth like a debutante picking a beau.”
“Oh, and you think pissing me off helped?”
“It worked, didn’t it? You realized that you don’t want to give up your business or your career. That’s part one.”
He gently took the hand she used to punch him, removed the protective Harley Davidson glove, unwrapped the gauze, then began to massage the top of her hand and her wrist with his thumbs. “You may have fractured the bones again.”
“I don’t care. I’ll live.”
His touch felt so good, her eyes closed of their own volition. A soft groan worked its way from her throat as her tense body began to relax.
“Part two is the problem.” His voice sounded closer. Actually, his voice sounded very close. Like next to her ear. She opened her eyes again to find them nearly face to face.
“Part two?”
“Yes. Part two. What about MacBride.”
That got her attention. Did I say that out loud? Or did he read my flippin’ mind?
Just as quickly, she felt the trap close again, the threat of being confined, of being caught, attempting t
o choke her.
“I-I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“Keko, dear heart, you may not be the world’s most usual woman, but you’re not an idiot, and you’re not a liar. You know exactly what I mean.” Finished with her hand, he pulled her closer.
Her good sense rebelled, but her body began to melt with the desire to form itself against him, to fit against him as she knew it could.
“Keko, I want us to have a future, but you panic so quickly that you won’t even discuss it. You break out in a sweat, your emotions lock up, every time the subject comes around. You care, I know you do.”
He pushed his hips forward. “We were meant for each other. No two people are as perfect together as we are, even when we’re disagreeing. And, if I dare say it, especially in bed.”
“B-b-but, you heard my mother. That was probably the only thing she got right, and you know it. There’s a real world outside the bedroom.”
“I don’t deny that.” He pressed closer.
Her body responded, but she tried to push him away. “MacBride, I can’t think when you’re close to me. My brain shuts down.”
“That’s another thing. Why won’t you call me Brian, my given name? My mother likes it, she chose it. Or even Mac? Why MacBride? No one else calls me MacBride, unless it’s preceded by Sheriff.”
She felt the warmth rush to her cheeks. “If I tell, you’ll laugh at me.”
Backing up a step, he held her at arm’s length, his big hands warm on her naked shoulders. “Will you tell me if I promise not to laugh?”
She looked away, but he coaxed her face back with gentle fingers under her chin.
“I swear, I will not make fun of you. Really. Cross my heart.”
“Just remember—you promised.” She sighed, and her shoulders drooped a bit.
This is going to be a mistake, I know it.
“When I went to live with my dad, he called me his little five-year-old hellion, way before I knew what a hellion was. One on one, the two of us alone in the house, he didn’t exactly know what to do with me. I clung to him like Velcro-kid, afraid I would be left behind again. So, he began to read to me every night. Well, every night that he made it home. I wouldn’t let my nanny read to me, just him. He read stories of knights and kingdoms and warriors who had the most awesome adventures, who had special powers, who wielded magical swords. Vikings, Celts, Scots, Knights Templar, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, I knew them all.
Bombshell - Men of Sanctuary Series, Book Three Page 20