Wanting to Love You (Houston's Finest Book 3)

by Erin Rylie

  Before joining him on the couch, she went to the kitchen where she found two trash bags under the sink. Becky returned to the living room and started gathering water bottles to recycle. When she had finished collecting all of the plastic in the room, she tied off the bag and set it next to the door to take with her when she left. She could empty the bottles into the recycling bin at her house.

  She grabbed the second trash bag and cleaned all of the garbage from the coffee table and couch. There were candy wrappers on the couch cushions and floor, and with each piece of trash she found, she grew more concerned. Reese sat quietly on the couch the entire time, his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He hardly even seemed to notice her presence, and he certainly didn’t look ready to talk.

  Instead of pushing him, she finished gathering trash, placing the now full garbage bag by the recycling near the door. When he still hadn’t spoken, Becky went back to the kitchen and pulled cleaning products out from under the sink and began to wipe down his coffee and end tables. She had no clue what was going on, but she couldn’t sit idle and wait for him to tell her.

  Becky had never been great at sitting still, so she did the only thing she could think of. She cleaned and waited for Reese to find the words to tell her what was going on. He was slow to express himself, and it was clear that whatever news he had was going to be not only hard to hear, but hard for him to speak.

  She’d learned when they were younger to let Reese come to her in his own time when he was upset about something. He liked to formulate the discussion in his mind before verbalizing his thoughts, and she could appreciate that.

  Finally, when she’d cleaned as much as she could without finding a vacuum, Reese looked up and gestured for her to sit on the couch. She sat close and rested her hand on top of his where it was face down on his knee. He turned his hand over and traced her fingers with his own. He was still staring at their hands on his leg when he finally started to speak, his touch sending sparks through her body.

  “The real reason I moved from Dallas to Houston isn’t one I’ve really told anyone about, but my mom has cancer. As you know, my dad was killed in the line of duty when I was ten years old, and it was just me, Mom, and Jesse until my brother left for college. When Jesse left to start his own life, Mom was the only family I felt I had left.

  “About two years ago, we found out that she has lung cancer. We’d been having our weekly dinner when my mom started coughing and couldn’t seem to stop. It was something she’d been doing a lot over the past few months, and she’d insisted it was just a cold, but the persistent coughing made me nervous.”

  At this point Reese took a deep breath, still staring at their hands and the contrast between them. His skin was tanned and rough from manual labor and weight training. She’d always been incredibly pale, unable to tan. Her hands were smooth and manicured and looked tiny in comparison to his. He traced the length of each of her fingers one last time before entwining them with his and squeezing her hand, as though he needed to borrow some of her strength to get the next part of his story past his lips.

  “That night, when she pulled away the napkin she used to cover her mouth as she coughed, it was spotted with flecks of blood. Of course, I immediately rushed her to the hospital, and after an extensive amount of testing, we were told she has stage three non-small cell lung cancer. The doctors in Dallas treated her for a while, but they mentioned that Houston had a premiere cancer treatment center, so I put in for a transfer here and the moment it was approved, I moved us here so that she could be treated by the best.”

  Becky thought of Beth, the woman who’d been more of a mother to her in that last year of high school than her own mother could ever be. Beth who worked two jobs to keep Reese in an apartment in a good school district. The woman she’d considered family before it all fell apart. She had to stifle a sob, but she couldn’t contain the tears she could feel running down her cheeks. Becky had a feeling she knew where this story was going, and she wasn’t sure she was prepared to hear it. Her stomach was knotted with dread, and she almost wanted to beg Reese to stop talking, to take the words back so she could leave and pretend all was well in the world. She would go back to being mad at him, and he would go back to being somehow infuriating and sexy at the same time.

  Most of all, Beth would go back to being just Reese’s mother. The one Becky had fond memories of and who was happy and healthy in Dallas. Unfortunately, she couldn’t fix this situation through the power of will alone, and Reese continued talking.

  “After you left the other night, I got a call from the hospital. Apparently Mom’s cancer is recurring and has not only come back, but has spread to her bones. She has something called bone metastases and the chances of survival this time around—” He broke off with a choking sound and put his head on her shoulder. She could feel his warm tears through the material of her T-shirt, and her heart broke at the thought of this big, strong man breaking down. His grip on her hand tightened as a sob wracked his body.

  She had a feeling he’d been holding back. There was something about bad news that felt less real when you held it in. If you didn’t share it with anyone else, it couldn’t possibly be real. Now that he’d spoken the words aloud, she suspected they were hitting him all over again.

  Unsure what to do, but wanting to be there for him, Becky leaned back against the couch cushion and pulled him with her, his head landing on her chest. His fingers untangled from hers and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her body into his while he continued to break down.

  She ran her hands through his hair and let him get everything out. The small choking sounds he made while he fell apart in her arms only made her cry harder, but she tried to do so silently. This wasn’t about her, and she just wanted to support him in any way she could.

  They sat like that for what felt like an eternity, Reese clinging to her for dear life while Becky ran fingers through his hair and tried as hard as she could to soothe him. He finally calmed down, and she felt his breathing even out at her side.

  “Reese, I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head, his nose brushing against her neck as he did so. He’d somehow gotten closer to her while she’d been comforting him, and her body was inappropriately aware of the way he was curled around her, his hand clutching her waist, his arm thrown over her stomach.

  His lips whispered over the side of her neck in a featherlight kiss that sent goosebumps down her arms. Becky sat stock-still, sure she’d imagined it. There was no way that he wanted to be physical in a time like this. When she felt his lips press again, more firmly this time, she shuddered, arousal coursing through her body.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispered, fighting the urge to turn and catch his lips with her own.

  “Becs,” he murmured, his hot breath caressing the skin of her throat now. His lips worked their way up to her jaw, and she lost all rational thought. Pushing her fingers into his hair, she captured his lips in a kiss that was both more tender and more passionate than the ones they’d shared the week before.

  Their joining a week ago had been an angry thing, a tangle of emotions that neither of them knew how to process. Her mind then had been a swirl of lust, anger, and hurt. Now all of her thoughts were of Reese, just him and the way he made her feel, the way his touch sent electricity dancing across her skin like nobody else’s could.

  They moved slowly, savoring each touch as he laid her gently down on the couch cushions, coming to rest on top of her. She could feel his desperation in the hard grip of his fingers and in the way he took the kiss to the next level, dominating her mouth with his own.

  She had just slipped her hands under his shirt, needing skin-on-skin contact, when her phone rang from her purse. She and Reese both groaned, knowing that a call this late at night was one she needed to answer, especially considering Kelsey was watching her son.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away from Reese, breaking their kiss. “I need to answer, it’s probably Kelsey.�
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  He slid his hand into her hair, his hand cupping her head, and leaned in to kiss her again. “You can call her back,” he replied between kisses.

  “She’s with Ryker, I have to answer.”

  Reese groaned and leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t want you to go.”

  His eyes were still red rimmed from crying, all of the emotion he’d been letting out in the last hour plain on his face. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him when it was clear he needed someone to keep him from spiraling. If she left now he would just stew in his thoughts, letting his fears fester until they were all he could think about. She knew him, and he was unlikely to be so open with anyone else. She was lucky that after all this time, he still felt comfortable enough to open up to her.

  Her phone rang again and he leaned down to kiss her one more time before moving to the other side of the sofa, giving her room to get up and answer the call.

  “Yo, bitch. Where the hell are you? It’s almost midnight and I was really hoping to get laid tonight.”

  Becky fought the urge to laugh; somehow it didn’t feel right to do so given the night she’d had with Reese. “Carlos is clearly rubbing off on you—you never would’ve said shit like that before him.”

  She could picture Kelsey shrugging on the other end of the line. “I like to think he’s just drawing out the crazy I hid for most of my life.”

  “However you want to phrase it. I’m on my way home now. How’s Ryker?”

  “He’s still fast asleep, hasn’t gotten up at all. I can stay if you need me to, but Carlos just texted, and he’s apparently having a hard time getting James down tonight.”

  Becky felt incredibly torn, but she knew that she needed to go home. She couldn’t ask her friend to stay much longer when Kelsey’s son was having a hard time getting to sleep. As a mother, she knew how hard tomorrow would be if James didn’t get any sleep tonight.

  “No, you don’t need to stay. I’m on my way home now, okay? Give me twenty minutes.”

  “All right, starting the timer now, chum.”

  She hung up the phone and turned back to Reese. He was sitting on the couch, his head back in his hands. Becky felt her heart wrench at the thought of leaving him alone like this—he clearly needed someone to talk to. She had to get home and take care of her son though.

  “That was Kelsey. I need to get back home to make sure Ryker is okay, and she needs to go back to her family.”

  Reese nodded into his hands but didn’t say a word. There was something about seeing a man who had tried so hard to be her protector when they were younger, brought so low. All she wanted to do was hold him and tell him everything would be all right. She was also a planner, and her mind was churning through ideas and contingencies. There was always a fighting chance with cancer, right? It could be a small one, but people beat the odds every day. Maybe Beth could, too?

  She couldn’t find the courage to bring voice to those words, however, knowing that false hope was one of the worst things you could give someone.

  “Do you—” she paused as she contemplated the wisdom of the suggestion she was considering making. “I have a spare bedroom. So if you don’t want to be alone tonight, you’re more than welcome to stay with us.”

  Reese lifted his head, and while his eyes were puffy from crying, there was a faint glimmer of hope in them. “Would I get to see Ryker?”

  Becky thought about it. Their son had definitely noticed Reese’s absence tonight, but was it wise for him to see this new man in their home? Would he feel unsafe or as though his routine was being interrupted?

  “Well, I wouldn’t want him knowing you spent the night, even in the guest room. The last thing we need to do is confuse him. I don’t see the harm in you having breakfast with us though. If you get up early enough and get dressed, we can say that you came over for breakfast because you couldn’t make dinner tonight.”

  Reese nodded again, and she could see that he was considering it. Half of her wanted to shove the invitation back into her mouth, while the other half desperately wanted to invite him not into her home, but into her bed.

  “Okay, text me your address. I’ll pack a bag and head over there. I’m going back to work tomorrow, so I need to have my clothes with me.”

  “See you soon,” Becky replied with a faint smile.

  Chapter Eleven

  Reese would never tell Becky how desperate he’d been for her invitation. He’d spent the day at the hospital with his mother, watching her undergo test after test as they confirmed that her cancer had not only returned, but had worsened, leaving her with little to no chance of survival. He didn’t know how he would manage to even return to work tomorrow, but his captain had already been understanding enough about him needing almost a week off unexpectedly. He hadn’t built up much of a rapport with his new boss in the time he’d been in Houston, but he respected the hell out of Captain Stevens and didn’t want to let him down.

  He also worried about Carlos when he wasn’t at work to keep an eye on him. Carlos was an amazing cop, but he was also just a ridiculous human, so who knew what he’d gotten himself into in Reese’s absence? Reese was almost dreading finding out tomorrow.

  Every night for the past five days, he’d come home from the hospital at his mother’s insistence. She had been admitted for testing and she refused to let him sleep at the hospital on the small cot they provided. He had hated leaving her, but he was also willing to do anything to make her happy. Instead of calling his brother or even one of his friends upon arriving at his apartment, he’d sat on the couch staring at nothing. He ate shitty food, not paying an ounce of attention to the taste, and had tried to come up with ways to save his mother.

  With no solution to her situation forthcoming, he’d worked his brain in circles, imagining every possible outcome and trying not to fall further into despair. The doctor said that her life expectancy was three to six months at best. Apparently once the cancer had spread to the bone, it was infinitely harder to treat.

  He’d tried to fight it, but he was insanely frustrated with his mom for missing multiple checkup appointments. He’d tried to go to all of them with her after it was officially declared that she was in remission, but his job had kept him from attending all of the appointments but the first. Apparently, his mom had been skipping them as well, and telling him that her checkups had turned out fine.

  Yesterday, after the final test results had come in, the doctor had explained to them both that there were treatment options to prolong her life, but that they would at best give her a year, and would make her weak and tired for the majority of that time. Without treatment, she had six months at most. The doctor did say that because she’d led a healthy lifestyle and wasn’t experiencing pain or weight loss yet, she could live as long as a year without treatment, but the chances were slim.

  He hadn’t found the strength to call Jesse yet, and his mother refused to do it as well. She said that she wasn’t ready to disrupt his life like that, but Reese knew that the call needed to be made. Jesse would want to spend as much time as he could with their mother before she passed, and if he didn’t know he only had a year, he would be livid to learn that he’d lost time.

  Reese texted Becky when he arrived at her house, not wanting to knock or ring the doorbell and wake Ryker. Apparently Kelsey had left by the time he arrived, and he was thankful for the reprieve. He knew she wasn’t his biggest fan, and he was already too emotionally drained to deal with a confrontation of any sort tonight.

  As he walked into Becky’s house, he noticed in the detached way of the emotionally drained that it was beautifully appointed. She had really turned the house into a home. It was clean, but still lived in, and he spotted at least one of Ryker’s toys in each room, easily accessible in case he had any kind of breakdown. He wanted to ask Becky if his mother and Jesse could spend some time with his son, but he hadn’t worked up the courage yet.

  He liked the unsteady truce that they had formed in the face of his
devastating news and didn’t want to lose it. Being at odds with Becky while his life was falling to pieces around him felt wrong. He hardly ever let people close enough to truly trust them, but she was a part of him. Though things between them had been strained since he’d moved to Houston, she was the person in this city who knew him best next to his mother. Becky was also one of the only people he felt comfortable sharing his deepest thoughts with.

  They’d lost that comfortability to tension and anger when they had first been reunited a couple weeks ago, but tonight he had felt it slide right back into place. Some part of him was aware that physically losing himself in Becky wasn’t the healthy way to deal with his pain, but forgetting for a few hot and sweaty hours had seemed like a fantastic idea back at his apartment.

  Reese followed her into the kitchen and fell into a chair at her small dining table, running his hands through his still unbound hair. Becky bustled around the kitchen preparing hot tea, something that her mother had insisted she make for guests at their home when she was younger. He’d always thought it was such a weird thing to train a teenager to do, but he was grateful for the chance to gather his thoughts while she prepared a drink, and maybe the tea would help him actually get some sleep tonight.

  Becky placed a cup of hot tea in front of him and sat in the opposite chair with her own mug. They were silent for a few moments, but he could tell that Becky was gearing up to ask him questions. She had always been the kind of person to have a plan in place for every scenario, so he was positive she was trying to find a way to fix this for him.

  “So, what did the doctors say about treatment options?”

  He almost smiled at the small reminder that she was the same in so many ways, but the smile fell from his face quickly as he started talking. “I was a little overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information the doctor gave us, and I am still trying to process everything, but my understanding is that treatment at this point will just prolong her life, not save it. She has three months to live at worst, a year at the very best.”