Aine laughed. “I’ll let you know if they are. When will you be here?”
“That’s trickier now that Penelope has a job. She actually has to ask for time off.”
“Don’t sound so disgusted. Having a job is a good thing, Tara. When are you going to look for one?”
“That’s rich, Miss Pot, when are you?”
“I’m going back to school.”
Tara gasped. Evidently, that was worse than getting a job.
“You are such a snob.”
“I am not. I just never thought someone like you would go back to school.”
“Someone like me?”
“You don’t need to worry about money, Aine. So why bother?”
“Because I think there’s more to life than shopping?”
“Whatever. Let me know how Quinn is.”
“Right.”
Aine ended the call, wondering why she ever bothered talking to Tara. She was a judgmental bitch. She shook her head when she heard a knock at the door. If it was Striker again, she really wasn’t in the mood to listen to another lecture. She looked through the peephole; this time it was Ava, whom she wasn’t in the mood to talk to either.
“What?” she said when she opened the door.
“Can I come in?”
“If you must.” Aine backed up to let her sister in.
“Razor told me Striker told him you’re not leaving.”
“I never said that.”
“Maybe it was a feeling he got.”
“Whatever.” Aine plopped down on the sofa.
“Are you?”
“Not until I see Quinn.”
Ava sat on the sofa, next to her. “I’m sorry.”
Aine didn’t respond; she was still too angry.
“I don’t understand why you and Striker broke up when it seems as though you both still care about each other.”
“He wants to be friends. By the way, I talked to Tara. Pen has to check her work schedule before they can let us know when they’ll arrive.”
Ava nodded. “Aine, I wish you’d forgive me.”
“And I wish you wouldn’t talk to me like you’re perfect. You’re married. So what? If you weren’t, you wouldn’t know what you wanted to do with your life either.”
Ava nodded. “You’re right.”
“I don’t want you to give me any more unsolicited advice about Striker. Not a word. Understand?”
“But if you ask, I can, right?”
“That’s the difference between solicited and unsolicited.”
“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”
“Neither do you.”
Ava stood. “I came over to apologize, but if you aren’t going to accept it, I’ll leave.”
“Okay. I accept your apology.”
Ava sat back down. “I need to get back anyway. Tabon is watching Sam, and I know he and Striker have work to do.”
“Let me know when he leaves, and I’ll come over.”
Ava looked away.
“What?”
“Tabon invited him to dinner.”
Great. Just great. Unless she wanted to hide out, she was going to be forced to spend time with him.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m going for a run. I’ll come over later.”
Ava kissed her cheek and then walked to the front door. “Can I ask a favor?”
“What?”
“If I bring Dasher over, can you take her with you?”
“Of course.”
She went into the bedroom, changed her clothes, and met Ava and the dog by the door. Dasher looked like a full-grown dog, but she still had the energy of a puppy. A run would do her as much good as it would Aine.
Aine led the dog down the pathway from the house to the beach. It was cold, so there was hardly anyone out, which suited her fine. Part of the reason she wanted to run was to get away from other humans. Dasher was okay, as long as she didn’t start talking to her.
Once she got partway down the beach, Aine realized that she wasn’t going to be able to cross over the usually dry river bed, so she turned around and ran back. It meant her run was nowhere near as long as she’d wanted it to be, unless she ran on the road, which she didn’t want to do with Dasher.
She stopped and picked up a piece of driftwood and threw it for the dog, who instead of bringing it back to her, dropped it in the water. So much for playing fetch.
When she took the pathway up to the house, Striker was standing in the backyard.
“How was your run?” he asked.
“Too short. I’m going to drive north and see if I can find a longer stretch of beach open.”
“Mind if I come with you?”
What? Why? Aine sighed. “I thought you were working.”
“We’re taking a break.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, so—”
“I’m not on any kind of schedule. There’s a twelve-hour difference between us and Pakistan, so there isn’t much happening now.”
Aine almost asked what they were working on in Pakistan, but stopped herself. One, he probably couldn’t tell her, and two, she needed to stop thinking about what Striker was doing or thinking or feeling.
“Please.”
She wanted to cry in frustration. “It isn’t a good idea.”
“Would the plumber be jealous of you going on a run with a friend?”
“We aren’t friends.”
“I’ve told you I want to be.”
When Aine sat on the grass and Dasher climbed into her lap, Striker sat down too.
“You said the age difference between us was a bigger issue than you thought it would be. You said your life was set and I didn’t have one.”
He smiled. “I didn’t say you didn’t have a life.”
“I’m not playing games, Griffin—I mean, Striker. Semantics don’t matter. You know what you said as well as I do. Are you really going to argue with me if I don’t repeat it verbatim?”
He frowned and looked out at the ocean. “No, I’m not.”
“Why are you even talking to me?”
“Because I miss talking to you. We used to talk for hours, and I don’t do that with anyone but you. I know I said a romantic relationship wouldn’t work between us, but I didn’t mean I never wanted to talk to you again.”
“You went eight months without needing to talk to me.”
“You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“You didn’t make it easy for me. One day you were all in, and the next it was over. You weren’t even willing to talk about it. Now, you want to be friends.” She shook her head and stood. “I have enough friends.”
“Wait,” he called out when she walked away. Something in his voice made her stop and look back at him.
“Go ahead,” she said when he just stared at her.
“This isn’t easy for me to say.”
She sighed. “Just say it and get it over with.”
“Even if we can’t be friends, can we please not be enemies?”
Staring into his eyes, she recognized the pain reflected in them. She’d only seen it once before, and it was at Christmas when he gave her the bracelet that had belonged to his aunt.
“Did something happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you lose someone close to you?”
When he looked away from her, Aine knew she was on the right track. She sat back down.
“What happened, Griffin?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m not sure. The look in your eyes, I guess.”
“It was nothing I didn’t expect, and my sister wasn’t someone I was close to.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I hadn’t seen her in years, and even before then, we didn’t have a relationship.” He turned back and looked into her eyes. “Don’t pity me, Aine. That isn’t what this is about. I don’t want you to be my friend because you feel sorry for me.”
She put her hands on the grass behind her and leaned back. “I don’t pity you. I’m mad at you. It doesn’t mean I don’t like you anymore.”
“So, friends?”
“When did your sister pass away?”
Striker scrubbed his face with his hand. “Earlier in the year.”
“When?”
“March.”
“Before you broke up with me?”
He looked away, nodded, and stood. “I better get back to work.”
“I thought you wanted to go for a run.”
“Maybe next time.”
Aine took Dasher inside and sent a text to Ava, asking her to come over.
Within five minutes, she heard a knock at the door.
“It’s open,” she hollered.
“What’s up?” Ava asked as she shut the door behind her.
“I just had the weirdest conversation with Striker.”
“What about?”
“He was telling me he wanted to be friends, and then he told me his sister died.”
“That is weird.”
“I haven’t told you the weird part yet. I asked him when she died, and he said in March. Then when I asked if it was before we broke up, he said it was.”
“Why didn’t he tell you then?”
“That’s what I think is so strange.”
“Do you think it has anything to do with why he broke things off with you?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”
“Again, why?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“But you’re going to try to find out?”
“I know you’ll think I’m crazy, but I fell in love with Striker. I never dreamed we’d break up.”
“Why would I think that’s crazy?”
“Because it was so quick.”
“Not quicker than Tabon and me.”
“You’ve got a point.” She smiled and then grew more serious. “All this time, I’ve struggled with understanding why. Nothing he said at the time made any sense.”
“Why would his sister’s death make him end things, though?”
“Like I said, I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”
Aine’s phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her back pocket. “I got a text from Quinn. They’re on their way,” Ava told Aine. “We should go next door.”
Aine shrugged her shoulders. “Okay.”
“I know this is hard…”
“I’ll be all right. I need to get my mind off of Striker, anyway.” Aine shook her head as though by doing so she could shake away his ghost. She put a smile on her face and led her sister by the hand. “I’m so excited to see Quinn. I can’t believe how long it’s been.”
Ava studied her once they were back in her kitchen, and then shook her head the same way Aine had. “It looks like Tabon opened a bottle of wine, would you like a glass?”
“I’d love one. Thanks.”
Ava handed her the glass she’d just poured and then poured herself another.
“Cheers!” Aine clinked her sister’s glass. “To the Tribe of Five being back together very soon. Unless Mercer whisks Quinn away again.”
“We can’t let him. At least not until Pen and Tara get here.”
Aine scowled.
“What’s that look all about? I thought you were trying to get your mind off of Striker.”
“Not him, Tara.”
“Uh oh.”
“She was giving me a hard time about going back to school.”
Ava raised her eyebrows.
“Who cares? Let’s not talk about her. Let’s drink wine.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Tabon, joining them in the kitchen. “Want a glass?” he asked when Striker came in too.
“Thanks, but I should hit the road.”
“What? You’re not going anywhere, mister,” said Ava with hands on her hips. “You told me you were staying for dinner.” Her sister pointed to the dining table that was set for six.
“It’s okay,” said Aine. “If you need to go, go.”
Striker looked into her eyes. “I guess I can stay.”
“They’re here!” shouted Ava, looking out the kitchen window.
Both she and Aine ran out the front door.
9
“Don’t let Ava push you around. If you don’t want to stay for dinner, you don’t have to.”
“If you’d rather not have me here—”
Razor gripped his shoulder. “Knock that shit off, Striker. Gunner isn’t here, so you can relax, and know you’re welcome.”
He laughed and so did Razor. He was right, Gunner didn’t keep his dislike of Striker a secret.
“Although, you won’t get much of Aine’s attention tonight. They haven’t seen Quinn since our wedding.”
It was hard to fathom everything that happened in that time. He and Aine had met at that wedding, and in between, they’d fallen in love—at least he had—and broken up.
“This is a bad idea,” he said to Monk as they walked through the beach house together.
“You’re part of the team.”
“That doesn’t mean Razor wants me at his wedding.”
Striker was halfway down the steps to the beach when he saw her.
He recognized the woman. She was Ava McNamara’s twin, Aine, and she took his breath away. With her tan skin, sandy blonde hair, and curves that made his mouth water, she looked like the quintessential California girl. He knew better, though; she’d been raised on the East Coast.
As he got closer and their eyes met, he saw that hers were deep blue like the ocean.
The brief ceremony became a blur. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of Aine.
“Hi,” he said, intercepting her as she walked between clusters of people.
She put her hand on her heart.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’m Striker.”
“I’m Aine,” she said, putting her hand in his to shake. “It’s nice to meet you…uh…Striker.”
“Actually, it’s Griffin. Griffin Ellis.”
“Right,” she said, motioning toward Razor, Gunner, and some of the other guys. “You all have special names.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything special about them.”
“I like Griffin.”
“Thanks. I like Aine.”
She smiled, her cheeks flushed, and she looked at her hand still clasped in his, but she didn’t try to pull away.
“Do you know if there will be dancing later?” God, had he really just asked her that? There had to be fewer than thirty people standing on the sand, most barefooted. He wondered if they’d even have food.
“Actually, there will be.”
“Food?”
“No.” She laughed. “Dancing. Are you hungry?”
“Maybe a little. I can go grab something—”
“Come with me,” she said, pulling him by the hand that was still holding hers.
“Where are we going?”
“Kitchen. It’s this place where they have…food.”
Damn, she was even prettier when she smiled.
“What?” she asked when he didn’t move but didn’t let go of her hand either.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, getting closer to her.
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
After that, they’d talked almost every day. The only time they didn’t was when he was on a mission, and even then, he tried to schedule video calls with her as often as he could.
Aine was funny and smart, and she took his breath away when she smiled and when she lay naked in his bed.
There were days when they spent the entire day there, pleasuring one another’s bodies. She’d asked once if her lack of sexual experience disappointed him, and he’d assured her it didn’t—he loved that he was the one to take her from tentative to aggressive. He taught her the way to bring him pleasure, and brought her to heights she said she’d nev
er known possible.
He loved sinking into her curvy softness. When she felt self-conscience, he convinced her that there wasn’t a woman on earth he found as sexy and sensual as she was.
And then, he’d turned around and broken her spirit. He’d pushed her away with an excuse that made her doubt herself and sink deeper into insecurity. He hated that he’d done that to her, but he hadn’t had a choice. What he’d learned after his sister’s death would hurt her far more than the demise of their relationship had.
Striker only hoped the plumber saw the same exquisite beauty—inside and out—that he did. He prayed he’d encourage her to find her dreams and follow them, and help her know that no matter what had happened in her past, she could overcome the hurt and fear.
He walked over to the kitchen window and watched as she hugged her friend again and again, crying tears of happiness while a smile lit up her face and warmed his heart.
He turned around and saw Razor studying him.
“A blind man could see how much you love my sister-in-law.”
“She’s better off without me.”
“Good thing you gave her the choice,” Razor added, leaving Striker standing alone in the kitchen when he went out to greet Mercer and his wife.
As he told Razor before, if he had, she would’ve told him it didn’t matter. She would’ve told him that she’d stick by him no matter what, even if it meant they couldn’t have the family they’d so often talked about.
The first time Aine had asked if he wanted to have children, he told her he didn’t think he’d make a very good father. His lack of having his own in his life, had made him wonder if he would know how to love a child in the way a father should.
She said she worried about the same thing. Her mother was a recovering alcoholic who hadn’t spent much time with her or her sister when they were growing up. They spent their youth at boarding school and rarely saw their mother or father, even for holidays.
Striker remembered that the more she spoke, the more he knew she’d make a fantastic mother. So often, her personality, the way she treated people, even the way she smiled, reminded him of his Aunt Dorothy. That she’d never had children was a tragedy he couldn’t impose on Aine. Any child would be fortunate to have her as a mother.
“You remember Mercer,” said Razor, coming back into the kitchen with their friend and colleague.
Striker (K19 Security Solutions Book 6) Page 6