Falling for Cyn

by Anne Conley

  A man in a full wetsuit climbed out of the lake, swim fins flopping and splashing as he raised his knees high to drag them out of the water. When he pulled his mask up on top of his head and dropped the snorkel from his mouth, everyone at the table bowed their heads in greeting.

  “So you’re finally showing some genuine remorse. Good,” The Boss acknowledged as He huffed and puffed up the small hill to where they sat. Removing the swim fins, He plopped Himself down in a chair at the head of the table.

  Every single eye moved from The Boss to the couple down the beach.

  He silenced any hollow words of apology with one look. “You are all to leave them be. This is his opportunity at redemption. They might have had a chance together, had you not all gotten involved in trying to split them up. But you instilled doubts in her mind, using Damien’s classic tricks as your own against her. Doubts she eventually overcame by using her heart instead of her mind, but you managed to mess that up, too. This time, there will be no interference. None. Am I clear?”

  They all nodded, chagrined. All except Michael, who spoke for the first time in days. “We were just doing what he’d done to us.”

  “He was ONE. Four against one is hardly fair.”

  Unable to let it go, Michael grumbled, “Life isn’t fair.”

  “I said no interference from now on, Michael. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  Standing, The Boss balanced on one leg while trying to put His swim fins back on. “Good. Now they’ve both got their own life to do with as they wish. They will no longer be in your lives, and you will no longer be in theirs.”

  Gabriel looked at The Boss, eyes wide and searching. He’d always taken his responsibilities seriously, and mutual forgiveness was pretty high on his list of things to do with Damien. “But he’s our brother. As much as we hated him, we sort of miss him.” Waving his hand around, “I know it sounds stupid, as much as we all fought, but isn’t there some way we can make this right?”

  As The Boss looked over at Damien and Cynthia down the beach His eyes softened and they all followed His gaze. Damien had picked up the child—a girl, judging by her swimsuit—and cradled the toddler in his arms. His eyes gazed at the tot with a father’s love and Heather and Uri looked to their own child, a six-year-old boy named Noah, and understood.

  They all watched as Damien looked over at them and cocked his head to the side, looking at them curiously. Then they held their breath.

  The party at the other end of the beach had been bothering Damien since they’d arrived. Not their presence, but their existence. They made his head tickle. He couldn’t explain it, it was just, like, he knew them.

  When he couldn’t take any more, he finally asked Cynthia, “Hey, honey? Do I know them?”

  Her gaze went immediately to the crowd of couples and families and grew sad. He didn’t have to hear her answer.

  Straightening, Damien clutched his daughter closer to his chest and walked hesitantly over to the group.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but—” With a sudden clarity, he knew. Yes, he knew them. It all came back to him with the knowledge of a dream. Fuzzy and vague, but he knew.

  They were his family. He had wronged them. They had wronged him. But they were family.

  And he wasn’t human. It was strange how he knew that, but as he looked at the impossible men in front of him, seeing the ethereal perfection, he connected it with his own. His own lack of illness, his strange ability to heal, his lightning quick reflexes. They were like him.

  His eyes roamed from one individual to the other, scanning their faces for signs of the impressions he was getting. But there was no hatred, no maliciousness. Only exhaustion from a war that had gone on too long.

  And acceptance.

  A warm arm came around his waist and Cynthia dragged his face toward her. “It’s in the past, Damien.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  Her eyes flitting back to the others, they held a rare anger he didn’t usually equate with his loving wife. But when they came back to him, they were her own again. A long sigh escaped. “Yes. I will tell you.”

  Damien pulled her into a hug with the child and turned to leave the beach after one last glance at what was undoubtedly his family.

  Yeah. They were his past. They had stayed on their part of the beach and not said a word to him the entire time. He might contact them sometime—something told him now he could do it. But it wouldn’t be today.

  They were his past. Maybe his future. Right now, he needed to live his present.

  Thank you so much for reading my Four Winds series. If you would, please leave a review and tell others what you thought. Keep reading for an excerpt from Craze, the first in my latest series, Pierce Securities. And to sign up for my newsletter and get all the latest new releases from me, go to www.anneconley.com.

  Click. Click.

  “So you’re going to shake your ta-tas like maracas tonight?”

  “Ew… No.” Krista was on her lunch break at the park near her office, talking to her sister, Karen, on the phone. Her sister, who had been married since she was fresh out of high school, thought Krista should be living large, enjoying her single status. In reality, Krista just worked. Like a dog. All. The. Time.

  “Oh, come on. I have to live vicariously through you. I’ve never been out dancing without Dan,” Karen whined.

  “And that’s okay, Karen. You have a great family, why would you wish for something else?” Honestly, Krista was a little envious of Karen’s situation. She lived in a beautiful house in San Antonio with her husband and son. They did all the things families were supposed to do: T-ball, photo Christmas cards, and church on Sundays. Of course, Krista thought Dan was perfect for Karen, but she would marry someone unlike Dan. The man Krista wanted wouldn’t be the straight-laced lawyer Dan was. She never had time to go out and meet people. Maybe tonight would be different.

  “Did I tell you I start a new class today? Cupcake decorating.” Karen was always taking some kind of class to make herself a better person, whether it was scrapbooking, cooking, or Bible study. Krista forever found herself second-guessing her own choices in life when she talked to her sister. Karen had all the things Krista wanted for herself—a family, a nice house, and hobbies. Krista had a job which took all the time away from getting those things.

  “German Chocolate, please,” Krista said with a laugh to hide her envy. Honestly, she’d wanted the career path, found a job she sort of liked, and was trying to make the best of her choices. That’s what she was attempting to convince herself, anyway.

  “Of course,” Karen giggled back. “Are you still coming in this weekend for Tate’s basketball game?”

  “Yep. I should be there by noon. I’ll take everyone out for lunch before the game, if y’all want.”

  “Mom and Dad are coming in Friday. Did I tell you they’re staying an entire month?”

  “Lucky you,” Krista said dryly.

  “Yeah, lucky me.”

  They commiserated together, but the truth was, they loved their parents, and again Krista was hit with a pang of jealousy. Her parents never, ever stayed that long with her, but she couldn’t blame them. Why would they want to stay with a single woman who worked sixty-hour work weeks and was never home?

  Click. Click.

  “I gotta go. This sandwich isn’t going to eat itself,” Krista said begrudgingly. “I’ll see you Saturday?”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  After hanging up the phone, Krista took a bite out of her sandwich and watched the kids play on the playground. This was her sanctuary, of sorts. It was a reminder of what she wanted out of life someday. All the children were happily swarming playground equipment in their colorful clothes, while being watched with one eagle-eye by moms whose other eye was on their cell phones.

  Her days spent in silence at her desk, going over numbers and columns, were broken up by her lunch hours of chaos where she watched the noisy k
ids play. It gave her warm fuzzies and reminded her there was more to life than work. Someday, I’ll have this, she told herself. Someday.

  Usually, she enjoyed the order of number-crunching, but days like today she got a little melancholy, wanting more. More of what, she wasn’t sure. Just more. She wanted a family and a man who made her crazy. She wanted to feel the highs and lows of having a family to depend on, instead of just herself.

  There was one dad out there, playing with his daughter, and Krista allowed herself the brief fantasy of ending up with a man like that—a man who would play with her kids, take them to the park, basketball practice, and Boy Scouts. One could only hope.

  Chewing contentedly, her eyes rested on a bench across the park. A man sat there, looking completely out of place, messing around on his cell phone. She leaned back on the bench and settled in for some man watching.

  Dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans with some sort of knit cap on his head, he didn’t fit in with the moms on the playground, nor the other business people stealing some chaos for their lunch break. Wide shoulders, slim hips, and rugged features were all put together to make an outstanding specimen of masculinity that would look more at home at a campfire than an inner city park.

  She knew he had devastating blue eyes and dark blond hair; he’d been here before on her lunch break. In fact, Krista had been watching him for nearly a month, on the days they shared the park. He’d even sort of flirted with her a couple of times, but she never knew what to do with the sly winks and cocky smiles he tossed at her on his way to the trash can.

  She was staring at him when he looked up and caught her.

  Snapping her gaze back to her lunch, she took another bite of sandwich and chewed hurriedly, realizing her lunch break was quickly disappearing.

  “Enjoying the weather before that cold snap comes in?” a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. Austin weather was usually warm this time of year, but September brought the beginning of autumn, and they were expecting cooler weather later in the week.

  Her boss, Mr. Lowe, stood next to her. He sometimes spent lunch here, too, but they rarely acknowledged each other. She assumed he was here for the same thing she was. Maybe he missed his own kids, working so much, and used the time to re-acquaint himself with the sound of children’s laughter. She didn’t even know if he had kids of his own. Maybe he wished for some of his own and that’s why he was here?

  “Yes, thanks,” she shrugged. She didn’t really want to be rude, but chatting with her boss during the one hour a day out of the office wasn’t her idea of fun times.

  Gesturing to the spot next to her, Mr. Lowe asked, “Do you mind if I sit for a minute?”

  “No, not at all.” Krista scooted over a bit to make room for her boss, wondering what he wanted. Could she eat lunch without talking about work? He wasn’t a large man, but his belly was sizeable, probably due to the amount of takeout he ate.

  “You like kids? I see you here, a lot.”

  “Yeah, it’s just nice to get out of the quiet office and be around people a little bit each day.” She regretted the words almost as soon as they left her mouth. They made her sound a little pathetic, like a loner. “I mean, yes, I love kids, but I don’t have any yet.” Not much better.

  He smiled at her. “I understand. I don’t see mine near enough.” Well, that answered that question. He stretched out on the bench, and Krista ate more of her sandwich in awkward silence. “You have a nephew, though, right? Do you get to see him much?”

  She nodded and chewed quickly to swallow her mouthful of food. “Yes. In fact, I’m driving down to San Antonio to see him play in his first basketball game of the year this weekend.”

  “What’s his name again?”

  “Tate. He’s ten, and he’s an amazing little boy. I love him to death.”

  “Well, I have a house on the river in San Marcos. You’re welcome to bring Tate out for a weekend sometime when he doesn’t have basketball. I’d love to have you two.” Odd. He didn’t mention Tate’s parents coming, too, but she inferred it, whether he meant to or not. Come to think of it, he didn’t mention his own family, either.

  “That’s very nice of you. I’ll ask about it this weekend.” She didn’t really want to spend a weekend with her boss and Tate, even though the house was probably really nice. All the houses on the river in San Marcos were show places, and Mr. Lowe had a shit-ton of money. But the invitation was weird—out of the blue like it was, and so personal. It creeped her out more than a little. She could understand a company retreat or something, but to just invite her and Tate? She stifled the shiver of unease creeping up her spine.

  “I’ll let you get back to your lunch. You’ll have those reports ready by Thursday?” He stood to leave.

  “On your desk before I leave,” she assured him. As he walked away, she let out a relieved breath. Mr. Lowe was a nice guy, but there was something odd about him. He was awkward during one on one conversations with her, and she never could really put her finger on why. His fascination with her nephew was odd, but it was probably just a socially awkward man’s attempt at making conversation. She preferred that idea to the other, less savory one.

  Click. Click.

  She went back to subtly watching the guy across the park and fantasizing about a camping trip with the rugged stranger. Maybe someday she would follow up his flirtations with a response of some kind.

  ***

  Ryan sat on his bench, making a conscious effort to tame his dick. It wanted her. Bent over the park bench. Tits bouncing while she rode it. Pouty little mouth wrapped around it. It didn’t care how it got her, his dick needed her. But his head was vainly trying to tell his dick to chill the fuck out. She wasn’t his type. The lady he watched in the park was Classy. With a capital C.

  He was relatively sure she wouldn’t respond well to his usual pick-up lines. Then again, she wasn’t his usual fare.

  Dressed professionally in dress pants and a bright green top, she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. A slim strand of pearls graced her neck, matched with a pair of pearl studs in her ears. Classy.

  Out of his league. He could have her if he wanted, and he’d probably show her a side of herself she didn’t know existed. But in his experience, classy women like her were more trouble than they were worth. They expected phone calls and relationships. Hell, this woman probably deserved it. She looked like the type a man could fall for easily. She probably baked and shit.

  She had a side to her that enjoyed the whimsy; he could tell by the brightly colored lunch bag she carried, which made him wonder if her day to day existence was as buttoned up as she looked. Her heels were sensible, but still a little flashy, with a rhinestone buckle on an ankle strap that fit her slim ankles beautifully. The heel wasn’t high, though, which spoke to a practical side of her.

  He liked her in the skirts she wore, when she wore them. She had fantastic legs, and he caught himself mentally removing her dress pants, envisioning her stunning legs wearing the kitten heels with the ankle strap. It made him shift in his seat a little to alleviate the sudden semi he found himself sporting.

  While she’d been on the phone, Ryan had watched her relaxed posture and her face laugh. It was positively beautiful. She had glossy brown hair, huge eyes, and when she laughed, her face broke open and spilled sunshine everywhere.

  But when the suit had sat next to her, she’d stiffened up, offering tight-lipped, polite smiles and nothing else. She obviously knew him, but didn’t feel as comfortable around him as she had on the phone. A protectiveness welled up in Ryan, and he almost laughed at himself. He didn’t know this woman, only knew he wouldn’t do anything with her. Besides, she was probably on the phone with a boyfriend. By the suit’s body language—turning himself toward her, opened up, eyebrows raised—he liked her. But it wasn’t a lusty like, if Ryan read his body language correctly. The suit didn’t want her in his bed, but he wanted her for something. That sent red flags waving for Ryan and the protectiveness reared its head agai
n.

  The feelings were obviously not two-sided. She was uncomfortable around him, judging by her closed off body language. She’d crossed her legs and hunched over a bit, as if cold, as soon as the man sat next to her. Ryan found himself leaning forward in his own seat across the park, studying them intently, waiting for the suit to do something, anything, that would warrant Ryan punching him in the face. But he didn’t. He eventually got up and left, relaxing the lady.

  Ryan grumbled to himself, not really knowing if any of his extrapolations were true or not. He wouldn’t know unless he actually went over and talked to the woman, asked her if she was seeing someone, what she did for a living, all that. And that wasn’t going to happen. He didn’t have room for distractions in his life. Certainly not one like her. She was a classy lady, one who required attention, gifts, and love. Not like the easy women he typically saw, who only required sex, and lots of it. No phone calls. No relationships. Perfect for him, really. Ryan was too busy focusing on his new job.

  His boss, Simon, was trying to make it work for him. After finding him working on pleasure boat engines at Lake Travis, Simon had offered him a partnership in a different sort of job, one Ryan had jumped at. He hated working with the rich people who boated on weekends and tourists who didn’t know how to use anything. And his boss had been a complete loon. He was of the opinion that structure was over-rated. He made fun of Ryan for coming in at the same time every day, being organized, and lecturing boaters on safety. Ryan was about to quit when Simon came in, working a case for the police department, and offered him a job in his security and private investigation firm.

  Ryan had quit the next day.

  He’d had issues at first, with finding things to do. The office manager, Miriam, helped him create a schedule for himself. Since then, he’d been better. In fact, she was the one who’d forced him to get out of the office at lunch time when he wasn’t on a job.