by Kelly Moran
“Son of a bitch.” Drake shoved his way between Jason and Parker, murder in his eyes. Fist connected with face, and the pitcher hit dirt a second time. Drake straightened and rolled his shoulders, breaths heaving. “I believe you were told to stay down.”
Zoe’s jaw dropped in shock. A quick glance at Cade proved he was just as floored by Drake’s actions.
“Well,” Parker said. “I’m afraid I didn’t see that either. Good game, guys.”
Chapter 3
“I can’t believe you wouldn’t let me hit him.” In the Adirondack chair beside Drake’s in Flynn’s backyard, Zoe took a healthy gulp of beer. She looked at Drake like he were the one at fault. “You got to punch the guy and it wasn’t even your mother he insulted.”
Drake bit the inside of his cheek and stared at his own longneck bottle. His temporary moment of insanity had little to do with the opposing pitcher’s remark about Cat and everything to do with what he’d said about Zoe. One second Drake was irritated and ready to leave the field, the next his knuckles were throbbing.
They’d had a cookout at Flynn’s after the game, rehashing the events, and were now sitting in a semi-circle, shooting the shit as dusk descended. Off near the tree line by the riverbed, Avery’s daughter Hailey was playing with the gaggle of dogs. Cade’s black lab, Freeman, and Avery’s yellow lab puppy, Seraph, were chasing her. Flynn’s golden retriever, Fletch, barked at Drake’s new rescue from a dog fighting ring, Cyprus. His other dog, Moses, was lying in the tall bed of wildflowers, watching the girl. Rain and pine scented the air as fireflies blinked.
He should be calm. Friends, family, a lazy evening. Instead, he couldn’t figure out where all this restless energy was coming from.
Cade clinked his bottle with Zoe’s from her other side. “Relax. We’ll save your bail money for another time, yeah?”
Drake frowned. The way Parker had been flirting with her before the game, she wouldn’t need bail money. The sheriff would just let her walk. And then Jason could get on his trusty fire ladder and rescue her cat from a tree. Or something.
Jesus. Drake swiped a hand down his face. What the actual hell was wrong with him?
The icepack he’d set on his chair earlier dropped onto his knuckles, startling him. He looked over to find Zoe’s pointed stare on his hand.
“Keep it iced. You’re a surgeon. You need those hands.”
Her pissed off version of a mother hen routine grated his nerves raw. She’d replaced the icepack more than twenty times since they’d finished eating. “It’s fine.”
“Well, my heart’s still all aflutter from that masculine display.” Brent, their vet tech, patted his chest and batted his eyelashes, then let out a gay rawr of prowess that was his customary verbiage. “I about jumped your bones right there on the field.”
Cade choked on his beer.
“What?” Brent insisted. “I’d bow my head in shame, but I’m not, well…ashamed.”
Drake let the comment roll off his shoulders, used to Brent’s antics after years of working with the guy. Feeding into him would only encourage him anyhow. He laid his head back on the chair, staring at the stars peeking through the pinkish-gray sky, and listened to the rhythmic hoot from an owl. A slight breeze gave some relief to the humidity.
“Maybe you should x-ray your hand at the clinic.” Avery smiled at him. “Just to be sure.”
Cade had struck gold with her. Avery had beat their clinic into organized submission and made Drake enjoy leaving his house again. Something about her calm control spoke to the lonely part of him. And she was the perfect fit for his little brother. Love looked good on Cade.
Gabby tilted her head. “She’s right. It couldn’t hurt.”
And again, Flynn was one lucky bastard, too. Gabby’s sweet personality, combined with the way she straddled the line between doting on his brother and giving him space, made her the right yin to Flynn’s yang. It had taken them a bit to break through the friendship line to love, but they’d done it.
Drake wiggled his fingers. It hurt like a bitch, but nothing was broken. “I’m good, kid. Thanks.” Avery was still eyeing him through those concerned golden brown orbs, so he schooled his expression blank. “I repeat, I’m fine.”
“Yeah, doll.” Brent patted her arm. “Besides, if he’s not okay, a certain vet tech could play nursemaid. And by that, I mean me.”
Flynn was the one to choke on his drink this time.
Maybe it was the beer, maybe it was the ridiculousness of the conversation, but Drake laughed. “Does playing nursemaid involve you in a costume? Because then I’m out.”
Zoe gasped. “Did you just make a funny?”
He eyed her with a baleful side-glance. One day, he’d really shock the crap out of her and shut up that smart mouth of hers. He froze and closed his eyes as visions of her in a naughty nurse outfit shoved to mind.
Just what had they laced his beer with tonight?
“You know, that reminds me.” Gabby looked pointedly at Brent. “Why does Avery get a cool nickname like doll, Zoe gets firecracker, and I’m stuck with sugarbuns?”
Brent offered a dramatic sigh. “Because Avery is a doll with those round cheeks and her old soul. Zoe’s is self-explanatory. She’s a firecracker. And you are sweet as sugar, plus your buns fill jeans like the second coming.”
“True story,” Flynn signed.
“Aw.” Gabby grinned, obviously mollified.
“I don’t know.” Cade shrugged. “My wife’s got a pretty great backside, and if I remember correctly, you could bounce a quarter off Zoe’s ass.”
Drake’s gaze whipped to his brother’s, unadulterated irritation making his pulse pound.
“Ha.” Zoe’s grin could’ve slayed monsters into submission. Drake’s heart rate shot to stroke level just being in the vicinity. “That’s right. College drinking party. You bet that frat house you couldn’t do it.”
Cade nodded. “And we won a case of Budweiser.”
With a contented hum, Zoe sat back. “Good times.”
“Hold it. Just…hold it.” Brent’s gaze darted between them. “Cade and Zoe used to date?”
“Hell no. She’s like my sister, man.”
“A sister with a great ass.” Zoe clinked her bottle with Cade’s.
There had to be a very dark, very deep hole Drake could crawl into to avoid this conversation. He was sure of it. One just had to search hard enough—
“Ask Drake.” Zoe tilted her head in his direction. “He touched my ass last night.”
Drake ground his molars to dust. “I did not touch…your…ass.” And for the love of all that was holy, could everyone stop saying the word Zoe and ass in the same sentence? Please.
Flynn’s eyebrows lifted and he offered Drake an oh, really stare. Cade wasn’t much better with his expression dialed to this is interesting.
His niece, Hailey, saving grace that she was, bounded over and plopped near Zoe’s chair by her feet. Squealing, she reached for Zoe’s hair and drew back, flapping her hands excitedly.
“You like my hair?” Zoe ducked her head, and the girl patted the pink strands.
The color—any unnatural shade she’d dyed it this past year—irked him. She had such lovely light brown hair that revealed golden highlights in the sun. Why she’d choose to ruin that was beyond him. It was cut to her shoulders, but back in high school, it had trailed down her back in loose waves. He’d sat behind her in quite a few classes and stared at the soft strands.
Catching himself staring, he jerked his gaze away, only to lock eyes with Brent, who looked like he was suddenly in plot mode.
“Maybe your mom will let you color yours, too.” Zoe tugged lightly on the ends of Hailey’s ponytail.
Zoe’s relaxed smile reminded him of a time when her personality had been more relaxed, as well. Before her mother’s diagnosis and Heather’s d
eath, she’d been carefree. She’d always had attitude in spades and a backbone of titanium, but it was as if life had hardened the softer edges and she’d hardened right along with it.
The girl he’d known, had grown up with, would bend over backward to do anything for, and defend to the ends of the earth, those she befriended. She still would. Yet the smile that could kill any bad day hadn’t made much of an appearance as of late. He found himself missing it, missing her. Like someone had extinguished the sun, and she was gone. They’d spent a lot of time together, with or without Heather. Once upon a time, she could’ve had him laughing to a state of tears. He could barely remember the sound.
Loss and melancholy tugged his chest as he watched her profile. He wasn’t listening to the words, but she was talking to Hailey with animation in her tone. The sharp point of her pert nose, the dip of her chin, the curve of her brow, the long column of her throat…those full lips—all familiar. Yet something shifted inside him near the region of his ribs and began to heat as if he’d never seen her before.
“Absolutely not.” Avery shook her head with a laugh.
Drake sucked in a much needed lungful of air and looked at the horizon. Cedar, redwood, and pine were black shadows against an inky sky. Moonlight shimmered off the riverbed. The base of the Klamath Mountains dipped and peaked past the skyline. Sights he’d known all his life, yet appeared altered. Or maybe it was him who’d changed.
“Oh, come on,” Zoe insisted. “Just one streak of color? Look how excited she is.”
Avery’s gaze darted between her daughter and Zoe, her lips thin. “Fine. But just one small streak and it goes back to normal after summer vacation.”
Zoe bounced and Hailey squealed.
Gabby cleared her throat. “Flynn and I have some news.” She paused, then held up her left hand, where a…ring donned her finger.
Flynn’s grin said it all. “She said yes.” Due to being deaf, he didn’t speak often, but thanks to the beautiful blonde next to him who’d been encouraging him to be more himself, Drake was getting used to the odd dialect as normal.
And damn, wasn’t that the best news?
Avery flew out of her chair and hugged Gabby. Cade did the same.
Shaking his head, Drake rose to his feet. Throat tight, he pulled Flynn in for a hug and eased back so his brother could read his lips. “About time. I’m happy for you.” He’d watched these two skirt around their true feelings for years. His chest swelled to capacity. And Gabby? No one was more ideal for Flynn. Someone who didn’t see his handicap, but the man instead. Drake held her to him and whispered in her ear. “Thank you.”
Well wishes and exchanges of congratulations went around. In no time, Brent and Avery were talking wedding venues. Drake sat back, taking it all in. Life didn’t always suck, that was for sure. He lost interest in the conversation when words like pink and tulle got thrown in the mix.
Hailey, having found a new best friend, reclined against Zoe’s leg in front of the Adirondack chair with her iPad in hand. Which didn’t escape Avery’s attention. She watched the pair with affection. “Cade and I are hitched. Gabby and Flynn are headed down the aisle. Are you next, Zoe?”
Zoe frowned. “Bite your tongue.”
“Oh, please.” Gabby brushed hair away from her face. “You’re obviously wonderful with kids. Find a guy, settle down, raise a litter.”
With a shake of her head, Zoe dismissed them. “Can’t you see it now? I’m walking hand-in-hand with my daughter through a department store toy section. She stops by a shelf and says, Mommy, does Barbie come with Ken? And I’d say, No, honey. She comes with G.I. Joe. She fakes it with Ken. Then child protective services steps in and I’m forced to remind you I told you so.”
“I don’t get it.” Brent slapped his thigh. “That’s exactly why you’d make a great mom.”
“Um…” Cade scratched his head. “I think we should take Zoe and Brent off babysitting detail.” He eyed Hailey, who appeared to be paying them no mind.
Drake’s brain detached from his mouth. “You used to want children.”
Zoe stiffened, not meeting his gaze. “I used to want a lot of things.”
Silence hung, then they all talked at once.
As the others chatted about Zoe and marriage and kids, and while she rebuked all their encouragement, something dangerously close to despair coiled in Drake’s gut. Visions of her in white, walking toward some unknown future husband, caused panic to trip his pulse. Which made no damn sense.
Then her words sank in, and he swore his heart broke right there in his brother’s backyard. For as long as he’d known her, like him, she’d always wanted the family thing. Spouse. Children. A realistic, Zoe-version of a fairy tale, but an ever-after just the same. Just when, exactly, had she stopped hoping for that? It felt an awful lot like she’d given up.
He studied her flushed cheeks and despondent gaze, the way her shoulders sagged and how she rubbed her forehead as if she had a migraine looming. Her defenses were locked in place, like he’d seen her erect a number of times the past few years when the subject of anything remotely personal arose. It was true. She’d lost hope. Had thrown away her dreams.
Zoe, who’d stand up to anyone with her morals and fierce friend code. Zoe, who had more life and gumption in her pinkie than the whole of humanity did in their entire beings. Zoe, who gave her mother everything she had left, even when that mom didn’t recognize her. Zoe, who’d stayed up all night, every night, texting with him after Heather died so he wouldn’t be alone in the dark. Zoe, of the fire and brimstone she showed the world, masking the honey and saccharine underneath like it was a weakness.
Dear Christ. She’d been perfect. Where had she gone? And could he get her back?
He froze, a chill of warning skating over his skin. Wait. Him? Why would it be up to him to remind her of who she used to be? Or that she could still have what she’d once wanted?
With a shaking hand, he set his beer aside before it spilled. Any more of the lager—or these thoughts—and he might get sick.
“Okay, okay.” Cade held up his hands in surrender. “Leave her alone. Maybe we should start talking about her ass again.”
No. Nope. He was done. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. And all the patron saints. Hell, add in Noah and the Ark. Drake shoved from his chair and strode into the house.
Leaning against the counter in Flynn’s dark kitchen, he laced his fingers and stacked his hands on his head. Closing his eyes, he let the cool air wash over his heated skin and enjoyed the quiet hum of nothing. He should’ve called for his dogs before coming in. Then he could just leave. Now he’d have to go back out there if he wanted to head home. Which he did. Right?
Zoe’s image popped to mind and he growled.
After he didn’t know how long, Gabby, Flynn, and Cade came into the kitchen and hit the lights, searing his retinas. Drake’s dogs, along with Flynn’s, followed them inside. Gabby gave Flynn a quick kiss and went down the hall.
Drake watched her disappear, then eyed his brothers. “Did Avery take Hailey home? Brent leave?” And…Zoe? Why did it seem odd to bring up her name all of a sudden?
“Yeah.” Cade pulled out a chair and sat at the table.
Flynn followed suit. “Sit. What’s wrong with you tonight?”
Noticed that, did they?
“Nothing. Just tired, I guess.” Or restless, irritable, thinking crazy thoughts, and going out of his ever-loving mind. He pulled out a chair and dropped into it.
Cade shifted his gaze from Flynn to Drake. “Is all this relationship conversation upsetting you?”
He hadn’t wanted to talk about Heather’s death back then, and he didn’t really want to now. Sure, he’d mentioned a few things to Avery, and it maybe hadn’t been such a chore. But doing so with his brothers was akin to reopening the wound he’d tried damn hard to seal. Besides, Zoe was about the only pers
on he went down that dark hidey hole with.
When he didn’t respond, Flynn ran a hand over his hair. “Gabby wanted to tell everyone about the engagement at once. Perhaps we should’ve waited.”
Anger. Yes, anger he could deal with. “Shut the hell up.” Drake leaned forward. “If you ever imply you need to tiptoe around me, I’ll knock you upside the head. I’m happy for you.” He glanced at Cade. “Both of you.” Drawing a calming breath, he rolled his shoulders.
“We know you are, but it’s got to be hard, yeah? Hearing all of us make plans, move on.”
“It’s exactly what you should be doing.” After four years, Drake should be doing it, too. The fact that he’d been thinking about trying the same, well… Those were his demons and guilt to live with, not his brothers’.
Cade and Flynn exchanged a cryptic look before Cade’s gaze resettled on Drake. “No tiptoeing then.” He paused, and Drake was struck by how similar his little brother’s eyes were to Dad’s. It was going on ten years they’d lost him to a heart attack. Much had happened since then. “Have you thought about dating again?”
Drake barely reined in a flinch. Crossing his arms, he sighed. “The thought’s crossed my mind.” More and more by the day, in fact.
It wasn’t necessarily that he was over Heather’s death, but he’d certainly accepted she was gone. Her absence had grown less painful as the days and nights passed until here he sat, wondering how to breathe without grief again. They’d had plans, a life together, and death had ripped those pages from his book. She wouldn’t have wanted him to remain stagnant while the rest of the world kept rotating. But she’d been his one, his only. In more ways than the obvious.
Perhaps that was the biggest hang-up. He and Heather had been a couple since junior year of high school. He’d never been with anyone else. He wouldn’t know how to date if someone downloaded an instructional manual directly to his cerebral cortex.
When he looked up again, Cade and Flynn were staring at him like he’d spoken in tongues. “What?”