by Zoe York
She couldn’t be wearing anything underneath it, and Owen’s brain flatlined.
He turned on his brother, standing behind him. Adam’s mouth was hanging open, and Owen thumped him hard in the chest. “Is this a set up?”
“Oh, fuck. No.” Adam snapped his mouth shut and turned, jerking his gaze away from the women. “Dude, I didn’t know they would be here.”
“Thirsty?” Kerry hollered in Jenna’s direction.
Her friend nodded, then mouthed the words, water bottle.
Kerry left her friends on the dance floor and wiggled her way through the crowd, heading in the general vicinity of the bar. She was too short to see clearly on the dance floor, but as she hit the edge of it, the density of the bodies gave way and she burst out of the crowd.
Owen stood right in front of her, his arms crossed and a weird look on his face.
She skidded to a stop, breathless and slightly confused. Her mouth opened and some small sound came out, maybe hey or hi or what? Whatever it was, it was too quiet for even her to hear herself. Her brain wasn’t really processing either words or the large, sexy man in front of her. Owen wasn’t alone, either. Behind him, trying very much to get in front of him, was Adam, who was shooting her a look that was trying to say it’s all cool but also a little he’s not comfortable here, help a dude out.
No kidding Owen was out of his element in a dance club. But he looked good, in a black t-shirt and faded jeans that hugged his solid thighs and tight hips.
Eyes off the hips. She looped her gaze back up to his face, and pointed to the bar. Adam led the way, Owen stepping to the side to let her sweep past him, and then he closed in behind her as they waited their turn to order. It was easier to talk here. Everything was still loud, but Owen’s body made a very good sound shield.
“I saw you out there,” he said in her ear. “Dancing.”
That gave her a thrill, the thought of Owen watching her dance. She twisted her head and glanced up at him. “Did you?”
From beside her, Adam chimed in. “I tried to push him out there, but he wasn’t having any of it.”
“We just got here,” Owen groused. “I’m getting my bearings.”
“Do you dance?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“This is his first time ever coming here,” Adam offered helpfully. He was clearly enjoying this, and Kerry didn’t blame him. She was enjoying it, too, but on a whole different level. She tried to read Owen’s expression. Did Adam know they had almost kissed? How much did Owen share with his brothers?
The bartender swung past them, and they placed their orders. Adam wanted a Red Bull and vodka and a beer—one was for their brother Will, he explained—and Owen asked for a Coke. Kerry ordered two bottles of water, and tried to put money for them on the bar, but Adam waved her off as he handed over a credit card.
“It’s Will’s,” he said with a grin.
The music changed, sliding from Britney Spears to C+C Music Factory, and Kerry wiggled her hips. Owen stepped up to the bar, giving her a bit of room to dance as they waited for their drinks. She grinned at him. “What are the chances we show up here on the same night?”
He smiled back, but didn’t answer.
The drinks arrived, and Adam grabbed the two he’d ordered. “Pretty good chances, actually. This is the only nightclub within a hundred kilometres of here and we’re all hot-blooded—”
“I will pay you a hundred dollars to leave us alone,” Owen growled.
Adam winked at her—oh God—and disappeared onto the dance floor, leaving them alone.
“So…” Kerry said, now breathless for a whole new reason. “You’re here with your brothers.”
Owen did something halfway between a shrug and a nod. “He won’t say anything.”
“Adam?” She glanced over her shoulder. He was long gone. “I’m not worried about someone seeing us together, if that’s what you mean.”
He visibly relaxed. “Right.”
She leaned in. She couldn’t help it. “We do work together, you know.” Teasing. Cajoling. A little closer. “And we are…friends, right?”
All the relaxation left his body as he shuddered. It had been too long since she’d had this effect on a man. It was heady and fun. And in a few more weeks, it would be entirely above board. For now, she would have to walk the line carefully.
Someone bumped into her from behind and she collided with Owen, his hands wrapping around her body as he shielded her from the pulse of the crowd. Strong, warm fingers slid over the bare skin on her back, and that line she’d been worried about walking carefully got very hard to see.
Electricity arced between them as he held her close for the second time, as she breathed in the scent of his nice clean shirt, and the skin on his arm that was right there. She had an up-close view of his tattoo for the second time, and it reminded her of bumping into him in the grocery store and the way he stalked off.
A lifetime ago. Since then, they’d shared laughs, and secrets, and forged a tentative friendship that put a lot of weight on pretending they didn’t want each other when obviously they did.
She wanted Owen so very much. It had been too long since she’d had a no-strings-attached fling.
Against her back, his hand shook for a second, then he skated it down her hip in a surprisingly sure move, landing his electric touch on her upper thigh. Her head swimming, she glanced up and found him staring intently at her, his eyes glittering in the dim club lighting. She found the rail at the bottom of the bar and she hoisted herself up with his help so she was leaning against him, closer to meeting his impressive height.
His one hand was hot and steady on her leg, and the other started to roam up and down her back. Neither of them said anything. He touched, she held still, and inch by inch, he explored all the bare skin her halter top revealed. When he got to her shoulder, she shivered, and the groan he made was dangerous. She knew the risk of tangling with him. But she also knew she wouldn’t get him out of her system any other way.
It was the t-shirt, she told herself. The way it rode up on his arms, baring too much of his biceps. Showing off that damn tattoo, that delicate ink that was nothing like the rest of his personality. She’d been tricked by worse in the past. And Owen was the opposite of the worst—he was, underneath that gruff exterior, a lovely, funny man.
But he was the father of her client, and this was inappropriate. She fought through the cloud of desire and pressed her hands against his hard chest. “Owen, stop.”
He dropped his hand from her thigh like she’d just burst into flames, and stepped back. Not far—he kept her shielded from the rest of the club. They were both shaking.
“Jesus,” he rasped. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I’m—I—”
“I don’t know what came over me.”
Lust. It had consumed her as well. “I wanted you to hold me.” Want. It was a present-tense desire. She wanted him to still kiss her right now, right here, again, even as she told him no, as she insisted they couldn’t. “But we can’t do this here. Or now.”
His hands tightened on the edge of the bar and he nodded.
The music changed again. “Livin’ La Vida Loca” started pulsing through the air, and Kerry wanted nothing more than to slide against Owen, get his hands on her bare hips, and dance as close together as humanly possible.
Instead she grabbed the bottles of water from the bar and swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I have to get back out there,” she whispered. “See you later.”
Chapter Fourteen
The cry was tiny and ragged, but it still woke Owen from his sleep. The creak of floor boards in the hallway told him he wasn’t alone in being woken up, either.
Pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, he quietly eased open his bedroom door—and came face-to-face with his daughter’s wide-eyed ex-boyfriend. Hayden had a fussing Charlie up against his chest and was trying to awkwardly calm him.
“What are you doing here?” O
wen rumbled.
Hayden’s mouth flapped open, then closed again. He visibly swallowed hard, then turned and bounced his way into the living room, where Becca was passed out on the sofa. Next to her, the empty baby swing was still moving back and forth, the tinny rainforest music a bizarre but perfect soundtrack to this three-in-the-morning party they were having.
Owen turned off the baby swing arm, leaving the music playing. He quietly moved past Hayden. “You want coffee?”
The kid followed him into the kitchen, Charlie protesting the whole way.
“How about you make it, and I’ll take him.” Owen reached for his grandson.
Hayden didn’t move.
“I won’t—” Owen cut himself off. “What’s wrong?”
Hayden gave him an embarrassed look. “I don’t know how to make coffee.”
He didn’t know how to soothe a crying baby, either. Owen sighed. “Turn Charlie over and hold him with your arm against his belly. It’s probably gas, and that feels good.”
“Thanks.”
Owen grabbed the carafe from the coffee maker, filled it with water, then poured that into the reservoir before trying to make conversation again. “When did you…” He choked back sneak into my house and went for the more diplomatic question— “come over?”
Hayden sighed. “Becca texted me an hour ago. She got up to feed him and couldn’t find anything to watch. I walked over to keep her company.”
“Don’t you need to work tomorrow?”
“If she’s not sleeping, I shouldn’t get to sleep.” The kid jutted his jaw out. His bravado only lasted a minute, though, then he sagged back against the counter. “It’s harder than we thought.”
“I’m familiar.”
“She’s really good with him.”
Owen nodded. “She is.”
“I want to be better.”
“That comes with time.” Owen stopped before he put the coffee grinds in the filter. “Do you have to work in the morning?”
Hayden’s face fell. “Yeah.”
“Give me Charlie. Go lie down in Becca’s room. I’ll wake you up in a few hours. What time do you need to get going?”
“Seven.”
“Shit, son. Next time, you guys wake me up.” Owen shook his head.
Hayden still didn’t pass over the baby. “He’s quiet now.”
Owen finished measuring out the coffee, then sighed and added more grounds. “I’m not going to tell you to put him down, then.”
“I did get some sleep before she texted. I’ll grab a nap in the afternoon. I’m only working the breakfast rush.”
“How’s that going?”
“Good.”
But Owen could do the math. A couple of hours over breakfast rush at Mac’s didn’t pay much. Still, he nodded. “Good.”
There was a lot loaded into that single word. There was no love lost between them, and Owen wouldn’t—couldn’t—change that. He didn’t want to. But he hoped for Becca’s sake this could be a bit of a truce.
It was time for him to start seeing Hayden as Charlie’s dad. Hell, now Hayden was walking Owen’s own path. They had more in common than probably either wanted to admit, but it was what it was.
His resolve to be open-minded and kinder to Hayden lasted almost ninety-six hours, until he found Becca in a puddle of tears on the couch, surrounded by piles of baby laundry.
Charlie was asleep in his bouncy chair at her feet.
Owen carefully found the only free real estate in her vicinity and lowered himself quietly into a squat beside her right knee. “Bec?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not.”
“I texted Hayden earlier to see if he wanted to go for a walk with Charlie. He’s sleeping longer in the stroller or baby carrier, so I thought Hayden could take him for a couple of hours and I might get some sleep. Or I don’t know, just stare at the wall. Anything.”
Owen didn’t want to jump straight to bloodlust, but he saw red. He couldn’t help it. “What did he say?”
Becca’s face crumpled again. “Nothing. He didn’t even bother to reply. I thought maybe he was sleeping, because he’s been working a lot of mornings, but I just saw that he was tagged in someone’s picture. He’s at a bonfire tonight. He’s out partying, and I’m home with our baby, and that is not the life I want.” She choked on the last word. “I mean, I want Charlie. Of course I do. But I can’t do this hot and cold thing with Hayden. He needs to be in or out, and if he’s out, he can be out. I’m not going to make...offers…like that.”
She hesitated around offers, and Owen knew it was because she’d exposed herself by making a request. She wasn’t just making time for Hayden to see his son, she was asking for some time to herself, and Hayden didn’t seem to care about that.
Owen did. But that wasn’t the same. “Can I take Charlie out for a walk?”
Becca shrugged listlessly. “Sure.”
“Take that time for yourself. And ask me for more of this, okay?” He frowned. “Have you talked to Kerry about any of this? Or your mom?”
“Yeah. Yes, to both. Kerry made me take a whole screening test for postpartum depression.”
Owen fought back a smile at the sullen tone Becca had around made me. “She was doing her job.”
“I know.”
He took a deep breath. “I’m going to grab a sweatshirt, then I’ll take the little guy out for a while. You grab a hot shower, make a TikTok that makes it look like you’re having the Best Time Ever, and show Hayden you don’t need him.”
She didn’t reply.
“Becca, you don’t—” Owen stopped. He looked at his daughter, who was staring down at the tiny, soft pile of laundry. He remembered the way Becca had gazed at the kid after Charlie’s delivery, and what Adam had said the week before. “You love him.”
Her profile tightened. “That doesn’t matter.”
“It does, though.” He sighed. “We can’t lie to ourselves. That never works.”
“Yeah, well.” She shrugged. Then she gently lifted up the baby and bundled him into the bucket carseat. Owen’s cue to put on a sweatshirt and give his grown-up kid a bit of space.
The stroller—a welcome to the world, Charlie gift from Rachel and Hudson—was a lot more complicated than they had ever had for Becca. It was a beast of a machine with giant wheels, that needed to be carried off the porch first and unfolded on the driveway before the tiny bucket seat could be clipped into it.
But once they were rolling, Owen had to admit that it was a smooth ride, and Charlie didn’t stir the entire time. That gave his grandpa some time to chew on the fact that Becca’s heart had been bruised, again.
As he cut across the edge of the residential neighbourhood and headed for the hill down to the harbour, he called Adam.
“What’s up?”
“I’m out for a walk with Charlie in the stroller. What are you doing?”
His brother made a clattering noise. “Nothing.”
“Do you want company?”
“I’m not at home.” There was more clanging in the background.
“Where are you?”
“Working out.”
Owen didn’t miss that Adam pivoted to saying what he was doing, and not where he was doing it. He stopped at the top of the hill. Ahead of him stretched the dark edge of the lake, disappearing in either direction behind thick stands of trees. He and Charlie didn’t need to head down there and be all alone. He turned the stroller around, pointing back up Main Street. If he walked fast, he could be at the Emergency Services building on the edge of town in fifteen minutes.
“Gotta go,” his brother said.
Owen rolled his eyes. “All right. Talk to you later.”
He stopped at Mac’s first to pick up coffee, because who knew how long he’d be waiting for Adam to finish his workout, and then he texted Becca to let her know that he was still on a big loop around town but her baby was fast asleep and all was well.
When he got to the station, he didn’t bother going inside. Charlie was having a good long sleep, and Owen liked the quiet of the evening. Bright fluorescent lights would ruin both of their vibes. It didn’t take long for Adam to appear, his hair and shirt damp with sweat.
He waved. “You figured out the mystery.”
“What’s going on?”
His brother gave him a disarming grin, one that almost certainly worked on people he wanted to sleep with. It didn’t work on Owen.
“Adam.”
His younger brother’s eyebrows snapped together to a more honest frown. “Yeah?”
“You’ve been here an awful lot.”
“We’ve been over this.”
“Have we?”
His brother tossed his bag into his truck. “I dunno. Maybe you’ve been deliberately obtuse and ignoring all the signals I’ve been clearly sending your way so you aren’t surprised when I get into fire school.”
Owen expected that kind of snap back from his other brothers. Josh would toss a few f-bombs in there, Seth would use only the first five words and let Owen sort the rest out himself. Will would say it all in a diplomatic gloss.
But Adam?
He scrubbed a hand along his jaw, painfully aware he’d turned into a tension ball on the way over. “Try me again.”
“Nah, it’s fine.”
“I’m all ears.”
Adam’s eyebrows shot up. “No disrespect, but you don’t listen to me.”
Ah, fuck. “I want to. I get tangled up in you not listening to me, that’s all.”
“My life,” Adam said. “Remember?”
“Sometimes I worry it’s you that doesn’t remember.”
“Was that a shot about Mom and Dad? Because I do, and you’re a jackass. But you’re a jackass who cares, so listen up, big brother. You can’t protect me from life.”
“I can try.” Owen heard the futility in his own words. “I want to try, God damn it.”
Adam leaned against the back of the truck. “Do you want to stop me from doing something I want to do?”
Owen swallowed hard. Why had he charged over here? He should have kept walking, down to the lake. “I want to influence what you want to do.”