Sierra interlaced her fingers and clenched them into a giant fist. After biting her lower lip, she asked, “This was so risky. Was he seen with you at all where people know that you’re a marshal? What if there’s a mole or a spy or a double agent at your office?”
Yikes. She should’ve realized this would hit Sierra hard. After all, her own safety from her violent past was now in the hands of the marshals. Delaney reached over to pat her white knuckles. “We were careful. Yes, people saw us together, but only in his capacity as a deputy trainee.”
“We were careful.” Mollie made air quotes with her fingers. “You know, that’s what every teenager with an unplanned pregnancy says when I break the news to them in the exam room.” Anger vibrated off her like steam off a pizza.
She had every right to be mad. Hearing their fear and anger reminded Delaney of why she’d insisted this couldn’t work from the very beginning. Between the two of them, she and Kellan were overflowing with book and street smarts. There was no excuse. Just the explanation that it’d been easy, too easy, to be caught up in all the good moments to worry about whatever bad might come in the future.
“We didn’t do it on purpose. It just sort of . . . happened.”
Mollie raised one dark brown eyebrow. “Also what those unexpectedly pregnant teenagers say.”
“Yes, we were dumb. There was no conscious choice to break the rules, to flout protocol, to risk anyone’s safety. But you know what did happen? We fell in love.”
“Damn it.” Mollie tugged at the bottom of her green scrub shirt. “That’s the one thing you could’ve said to calm me down.”
“Real love? Both of you? Not just really hot sex?” A light pink flush spread across Sierra’s cheeks and neck. “Because, um, all the Maguire brothers are drop-dead sexy. We’d certainly understand if you were just in this for a hot hookup.”
That was the original, ideal scenario. Two or three amazing orgasms and then put it behind them forever. “I wish. That’d be easy. Manageable. I’d be able to move on without feeling like I’ve been run over by a tractor trailer. But Kellan lied to me. Broke my trust. And I’m absolutely devastated by his emotional betrayal.”
Sierra came around the table and sat down, then she put her arms around Delaney. “When love makes you hurt as much as it makes you happy, then you know it’s the real thing. I’m so sorry.”
Mollie sat on her other side. And leaned her head against Delaney’s shoulder. “What are you going to do?”
“Well, I broke it off with Kellan. Completely. I’m going to continue on as the official Maguire handler. Unless Rafe or Flynn isn’t okay with it. If they request another marshal, I’ll understand.”
It’d sink her career, unless she could come up with a viable excuse for why they’d make that request. But it was their right. It was what she deserved for letting Kellan turn her head, get under her skin and so deep inside her heart.
“No, what are you going to do about being in love with Kellan?” Mollie asked.
That was an easy question. Because Delaney had known the answer from day one. “Never see him again after October.”
And then she held on to Sierra and just wept.
Kellan had thought he was living a double life while dating Delaney. And yeah, it’d been cool. He’d been a bad boy, breaking a big-ass rule and technically risking their new lives. He’d been just as bad as Rafe and Flynn.
Or so he’d thought.
It turned out that he’d been kidding himself. Because swinging a nine iron on Labor Day weekend under a cloudless sky with the ocean cresting a hundred yards away? That was fucking work to pull off when a mobster—Jesus, an actual gun-toting mobster—knew who he was, where he lived, and could technically show up again at any moment.
This was a real double life.
He hated it.
“You’re slicing the ball a little to the left today.” Lucien pulled a driver out of his golf bag and walked to the tee. “Have you been doing bicep curls with only one arm since the last time we played?”
Kellan hadn’t been sleeping. Or really eating. But he had been working out every spare minute. Pushing himself physically, sweating and panting and basically being on the edge of puking—those were the only times he managed to forget about Delaney.
How she’d just given up on them.
How she wouldn’t even try to let him fight for their future.
So his golf sucked because his head was anything but in the game. Instead of spilling the truth, Kellan rubbed his arm and winced dramatically. “The kids that are helping Flynn build the float for the festival? One of them lost control of his hoverboard. Damned thing nailed me right above the elbow.”
“I think if you’ll check Floyd’s ever-present clipboard, you’ll find a form you signed absolving the Cranberry Festival and the Town of Bandon from any and all injuries.”
“I’ll bet he’s got a form to check in and out of the porta-potties,” Kellan said grimly.
Lucien swung, then gave a tight nod as he watched the ball arc through the air. “If your arm keeps hurting, don’t be a hero. Go see Mollie at the hospital. You’re on the friends and family list at this point. No waiting, no forms, and no insurance. She’ll fix you right up.”
“It’s a hoverboard bruise, not a bear mauling. I’ll be fine.” The last thing he needed was sympathy and TLC from his brother’s girlfriend for his made-up injury.
Lucien jabbed his club at Kellan as they walked back to the cart. “Maybe I just want an excuse to get you together with Mollie. God knows I’d rather see you with my best friend than your brother.”
Enough was enough. It’d been four months. You’d think Lucien actually knew about Rafe’s sketchy past the way he held a grudge against him. There was a part of Kellan that enjoyed Rafe not being fucking hero worshipped for once, but Bandon was a small town. Everyone he liked needed to get along. ’Cause they were all he had with Delaney gone.
So he shot Lucien a sidelong frown. “Come on. How long are you going to make Rafe jump through hoops before you admit he’s a pretty decent guy? One who treats Mollie like a queen?”
“The jury’s still out.” After another shot of side-eye, Lucien huffed out a laugh and continued. “Honestly? I’m having too much fun hassling him to quit.”
That he understood. “Well, cut loose that fantasy about me ending up with the Doc. I’ve got a girl already. Sort of.”
Shit. That had popped out automatically.
Kellan’s heart still one hundred percent belonged to Delaney. But while loving her kept him sidelined, it—sadly—didn’t mean he had the girl. The “sort of” had meant their secret relationship. Had to face facts, though. There wasn’t even a “sort of” anymore.
Lucien dropped into the driver’s seat and rumbled them slowly down the cart path. Being Lucien, he had to wave and nod at every cart they passed, so their speed was at about Mach snail. “Didn’t you say that same thing a couple of months ago? Can’t you seal the deal?”
Well, that was fucking insulting. “I did. Until a week ago. Then it got . . . complicated. And now it’s over.”
“Man, I’m sorry. What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” He guzzled ice water from the metal bottle stamped with the resort logo. Guess they justified charging an arm and a leg per round when they provided a bottle that kept water cold for the whole thing. Technology rocked. “But it boils down to one cold, hard fact. Us being together? Impossible.”
“Bullshit.” Lucien stopped them with a jolt at the next tee. Then he leaned his arms on the steering wheel. “Nothing’s impossible. Aside from you winning this hole.”
“Don’t be an asshole.”
With a cool, challenging stare, he tossed a final insult at Kellan. “I thought you were smarter than that.”
Those words rocketed Kellan out of the cart. Because that’s exactly what he’d thought the whole time. There’d never been a doubt that once he stopped wallowing in the awesomeness of dating Delaney and fo
cused? He’d be smart enough to figure out a way they could be together forever.
Instead, he’d been dumb enough, cocky enough, to tell his brothers. It’d been stupid. Kellan’s way of proving he could run with the bad boys.
What a joke. And it was all his fault. Oh, yeah, he saw that now. He’d absolutely shattered her trust when he’d revealed their secret to Rafe and Flynn.
For what? To resolve the age-old question of whose dick was bigger? To prove that he was truly a Maguire, every bit as bad as them?
All he’d proven was that he was an idiot.
He didn’t need to be bad. He didn’t need to be a hero, either. Or compete with his brothers. Life wasn’t about being top dog. Kellan just needed to be the best version of himself. That’s who Delaney had fallen for.
Too bad he’d realized that too late.
“Being smart doesn’t solve everything. You can’t think your way out of every single problem.” Talk about learning that one the hard way. Kellan grabbed his wedge. Because, of course, since everything sucked in the six days since Delaney dumped him, his ball sat on the side of a sand trap.
“Brains or brawn? One of the two works every time. And you’ve got both.”
Kellan would—maybe—someday appreciate the way his friend was trying to help him. But Lucien didn’t know the complicated story. Didn’t realize that some problems just couldn’t be fixed. So he snarled, “Consider this to be the exception to that rule.”
Lucien didn’t need to follow him over to the crater of sand. Not when his ball sat fifty yards away on the lush, perfectly manicured grass with a straight shot to the cup. But evidently he was in the mood to be relentlessly helpful. Or just drive Kellan crazy so he did, indeed, lose the hole.
“Okay.” He waited while Kellan scrambled into the sand. Lucien even crouched to point at a better angle of attack. He was so damned annoying with all that good-natured helpfulness. Especially given that, in Kellan’s current mood, he’d probably be pissed at a firefighter wielding the jaws of life to cut him out of a burning car. “Then we come to the less often used option three—breaking the rules. Can you get your mystery woman back by doing that? Can you cross to the dark side?”
What a question. That’s what had gotten him to this self-pity-fest. Bitter laughter rolled out of him like fog off the ocean that morning. “I’m already there. Apparently? I suck the schwang at being bad.”
“Then embrace your wheelhouse. Be good and smart and figure out how to get your woman back.”
Funny. That was the one thing Kellan hadn’t second-guessed to pieces over the past six days. Delaney made it clear they were done, so he hadn’t bothered to keep trying to come up with a solution.
But what if he did?
A tiny spark of hope flared in Kellan’s desiccated heart. He swiveled to stare across the rolling dunes at the vast blue spread of the Pacific. What if he groveled profusely—obviously—and apologized and charmed her into forgiving him? Into giving them another chance?
And then put his mind to work on how they could stay together?
The first, hell, the only real stumbling block, the reason he’d avoided thinking about this for so many months leapt out of his mouth. “It could mean leaving my brothers.”
Lucien bent over to pluck a rogue dandelion. Wonder how he listed that under his resort heir job duties? “I’ll say this for Rafe—it’s clear he’ll always be there for you. Whether you still share a house with him, or go live on the wrong coast. But will mystery girl?”
That couldn’t be the solution. Lucien drilled it down to simplicity because he didn’t know all the facts. As much as Kellan loved Delaney, as much as he wanted to go wherever made her happy? The immensity of Rafe’s actions in joining WITSEC to maintain the three of them as a unit couldn’t be sloughed off.
Searching for just the right words that wouldn’t give anything away, Kellan said, “He and Flynn sacrificed a lot to keep us together.”
“You guys are tight. Tighter than a full body tan on a supermodel. So tight that a little thing like distance wouldn’t matter. Talk to them. Or her. Just fix it.”
Kellan mulled it over on the short drive to Lucien’s ball. Loyalty and love were supposed to be good things. Having too much of them shouldn’t ruin everything. But it did. “I can’t. Somebody gets hurt any way this shakes out.”
Lucien lifted his hands from the wheel, palms up. “Does it have to be you, though?”
Chapter Nineteen
The previous holiday weekend, Delaney had found out about her dad’s parole hearing. Surprisingly, the news hadn’t spoiled the weekend because she’d spent it with Kellan. Because he’d listened to her and soothed her . . . .and then screwed her senseless. And she’d wished that they could’ve been out in the open, back in Bandon, watching the fireworks with his brothers. Like a normal couple.
Now here she was on Labor Day weekend, in Bandon. No fireworks. No Kellan.
Guess it proved the old adage about being careful what you wished for.
Not that she was ungrateful for spending the afternoon at a vibrant coffeeshop, rather than sitting alone in her very much too quiet room in Coos Bay. Mollie was helping her gran choose new winter blends for Coffee & 3 Leaves. The invite to join them was a dose of normalcy Delaney badly needed. A reminder that she had new and awesome friends, even if her love life was demolished.
Plus, it gave her a reason not to stay in yoga pants with the blinds drawn feeling sorry for herself.
Norah used her prosthetic pincher to tap on the edge of the thick green mug. “Do you think the chocolate mint French roast is too much a reminder of Christmas? Will people still want to drink it in February?”
“I would drink this every day of the year.” Mollie licked her lips and gave a low hum of contentment. “In fact, can I take the rest of the sample bag home with me?”
Norah reached across the wide wooden counter to tap her granddaughter’s nose. “Greedy.”
“Appreciative,” Mollie corrected as she took another long sip.
Delaney told herself to stop watching and longing for their easy interplay. She’d stopped pining for a mother figure a long time ago. Losing Kellan, the hole he’d left in her life and her heart, certainly shouldn’t bring up old wounds long-since scarred over.
So she focused on the steady stream of customers at the front of the shop, where the more questionable medicinal products were stocked. It was about an even mix between millennials who probably wanted a hit for fun, and middle-aged people who actually needed the relief that marijuana would provide from their aches and pains.
This shop itself was a gray area. Here, it was legal. In most other states, it wasn’t. Delaney had spent her early years of law enforcement positive that there was only black and white when it came to crime. Now? Her whole outlook had gradually changed over the past year. She was actually drawn to the gray areas. To helping people who might be dismissed otherwise from a single black mark, no matter how big.
She’d need to snap a selfie for Em before leaving. Her friend would laugh herself silly over the self-righteous Marshal Evans chilling in a marijuana dispensary—even with the coffee and cookies that were, for Delaney, the real draw.
“Norah, I think a peppermint cocoa would give people a holiday hangover. But this coffee is subtle. Delicious. I vote you put it on the menu.” Not that she’d be here in February. Unless the task force assignment lasted that long. And wouldn’t that be painful? Being in Bandon—but not with Kellan anymore.
“Do you like it enough to fight my Mollie here for the sample bag?”
Mollie curved her arms around her mug and glared a warning. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Don’t worry. I’d actually like to take back a few bags of the calming tea blend. I can’t get enough of it.” Best to stock up now, while she could. Bags of loose tea were easy enough to stash in her suitcase when she moved on to the next assignment.
“Glad you like it so much. I’ll fill you a couple right now.
” Norah spun around to the glass apothecary jars lining the shelves next to the espresso machines and pulled one down. It looked like regular tea leaves, but with spiky lighter brown shards, fuzzy yellow flowers, and wrinkled red things that almost looked like cranberries throughout. Not nearly as pretty as the dark glossy coffee beans in the jar next to it.
But Delaney knew these next few months would be beyond stressful. Getting over Kellan without resorting to a pint of ice cream a night followed by a bottle of wine the next night meant trying to survive this heartbreak the healthy way.
Less caffeine. Lots of workouts. Soothing things like fleece blankets and stupid comedies and this tea.
“I mean, it tastes great. But I was shocked at how much it actually smooths out my stress levels. You’ve blended some magic in there.”
Norah quickly filled two bags and labeled them. “Old folk magic—the best kind. People try to dismiss herbal medicine, but the results can’t be denied. The St. John’s wort in it packs a powerful punch. Powerful enough to take down modern medicine, even.”
Well, it calmed her down, sure. But stronger than modern medicine? Hardly. With an indulgent smile, Delaney asked, “What do you mean?”
Mollie jumped in with the answer. “Oh, it’s true. St. John’s wort is similar to antibiotics in that it can very much diminish the efficacy of birth control pills. I keep telling Gran that she should put up a warning label. If you were dating anyone—” Mollie bit her lip and winced “—I’d tell you not to have this more often than once a month, just to be safe.”
It was as if time suddenly stopped. The espresso machine still spluttered. The giggly teens who looked like they were on a first date still chattered at the table on the left. Afternoon sunlight still poured in the front window.
But all Delaney saw was her Google calendar in her mind. The box on it, specifically, that reminded her each month that she was in the last week of her pill pack and should add tampons to her bag.
She hadn’t needed to add any tampons last month. That little pocket in her purse had still been full from the month before. Lots of people said their period just went away when on the pill, but Delaney had never been that lucky in nine years.
Got it Bad Page 24