When I finally let myself love him.
“You’re a SEAL,” I said. “A soldier. Can you fix that? Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you’re going to stay here, with me, without having to leave for six months to put your life in danger?”
“It’s a job, Shay.”
“You asked!” I said. “And that’s my answer. I was abandoned once before, and it felt like shit. I’m won’t put myself through it again.”
“You weren’t abandoned!”
“Then what would you call it?”
Zach grunted. He motioned for me to stay put, an order I immediately ignored. I marched to the library before my stomach flipped again. Zach stormed through the doors, holding an old shoebox. He rattled the contents with a frown.
“You really think you were abandoned?” He thrust the box at my chest. “Here. Take it.”
The box was beat up and yellowed. I knocked the lid off with a cautious finger. Bundles of pictures rested inside—a scrapbook without the book or organization or artistic talent. Each photo was meticulously labeled and dated with a little thought about the moment.
My father’s handwriting.
On pictures of me.
I recognized the curly haired demon in a pink frilly bathing suit playing in a sprinkler. My dad scribbled on the back. Shay—four years old—loving the water! I swallowed. The lump in my throat kept the nausea down. Another picture—little me in a tiny yellow graduation gown. Shay—five years old—kindergarten graduation, next step Law School!
Zach scowled. “I found those in the study. Your father put them in the fireproof cabinet so nothing would happen to them.”
The packages of pictures dwindled the older I became. The most recent one rested on top of the pile. I trembled as I held it, like it weighed heavier than the others. I recognized my high school graduation picture, but the message meant more than the diploma in my hand.
Shay—high school graduation—wish I could tell her she gets more beautiful every day.
“He never abandoned you,” Zach said. “Did you see the room he designed for you here? The only reason I took the damn master bedroom was because I thought you’d like that one. Hell, he even built you a balcony and planted your favorite flowers in the garden beneath it. He wanted you here.”
My voice weakened. “But I didn’t want balconies and flowers. I wanted my father.”
“And he wanted you. The first time I met him? He took me and my mother out for dinner. He wouldn’t stop talking about you, Shay. Not for a minute. He was so proud of you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Would you have believed me? Would it have mattered? Just because he wasn’t around didn’t mean he didn’t love you. It meant you didn’t let him love you.” He swore. “And you’re doing it again with me.”
“I’m not.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “Fuck, Shay. I’m crazy about you. Give me a sign I’m not wasting my time chasing after you.”
Oh no.
No way.
Now? He wanted declarations now? While we screamed at each other? While we hurt each other in my library sanctuary where he took me, loved me, and created a baby with me?
I looked away, head in my hands. He assumed that was my answer. I was just trying to make the room stop spinning.
Sweat broke out over me, everywhere, chilled and terrified.
I didn’t want to lose Zach.
I should have told him. Everything. That I was scared of loving my step-brother. That I wanted him more than anything in my life. That I had fallen for him hard enough to bounce through every floor of the mansion and still not strike bottom.
I should have told him I was terrified of loving someone with every pounding strike of my heart only to lose them to time, distance, or an accident on a battlefield across the world.
But I said the wrong thing instead.
“I just want some time to figure it out,” I whispered. “Please.”
“You know what?” Zach’s voice hardened. “There’s nothing to think about. There’s me, there’s you, and there’s something good between us. If you don’t want to see it? Fine.”
He didn’t finish his thought. I stood, stunned, as he stormed to the main hall.
“Where are you going?”
He didn’t answer.
“Zach, wait.”
He didn’t listen. I followed to the entry, flinching as the front door slammed behind him.
“I love you.”
But he was gone.
I cradled a hand over my belly. The baby was the size of a cocktail nut, but even she knew her momma was an idiot. Still, I didn’t see her helping when I should have run after him. My stomach heaved. I bolted for the bathroom instead.
This was a mess. Worse than a mess. I sat against the wall and held my head in my hands.
So this was what it felt like to be ruined.
Heartbroken.
Truly abandoned.
I hated it.
But I’d fix it. I didn’t know how, but I’d fix it. I was a coward, but I wasn’t a fool.
I needed him. The baby needed him. And if I only had the memory of his lips against mine between deployments, I’d make it work.
I loved Zach.
And it was time he understood that.
Chapter Twenty - Zach
Fuck, my head hurt.
Throbbing pain.
I couldn’t think. I couldn’t see.
And Shay begged me to come to some goddamned dinner party for her and her friends.
I couldn’t fucking stand up without the world spinning. I’d puke before I made it downstairs. God fucking forbid I stain her Daddy’s precious rug. We weren’t living in a house. It was a shrine to her own damn insecurities—some place she didn’t feel at home and wanted nothing more than to forget.
My phone buzzed. The sound grated through my skull and burrowed just to detonate an explosive charge.
Gretchen.
I shoved the phone off my nightstand and ignored it for the fourth time. She wanted to know how the physical went. But she knew the prognosis. Reminded me of it every goddamned day. Christ, she even wrote the damn prescription that fucked everything up.
Gretchen could figure it out.
But Shay wondered about the physical went too.
Jesus fucking Christ.
I liked it when I was the only one worrying about my own goddamned future. I already let the squad down. The last thing I wanted was Shay’s pity. Or her getting pissed off because I lied. Or that she’d find yet another reason to deny what she felt for me.
I tried to stand. My legs buckled under me. I sat on the edge of the bed. The motion blinded me like a punch to the gut and kick to the head, and I didn’t know which was worse.
Why the hell was I at the mansion? I was goddamned lucky I didn’t kill anyone on the drive over. My hotel had black-out curtains and enough whiskey to dull every pain. But Shay called, and I came running, like a damned masochist who needed his balls smashed one last time.
What the hell did she want from me? She acted like she wanted me gone, so I left. Then she summoned me back to talk.
Nothing to talk about. She only had to answer one question.
Did she fucking want me or not?
Apparently, it was a harder question than I thought. Shay acted distant. She hid something, and it wasn’t that she desperately loved me.
If she didn’t trust me enough to reveal her secrets, then why would I tell her about my failed physical?
I blamed Shay for my misery, but it wasn’t her fault. In my fucking shame, I lied to her about the doctor’s verdict. I was too goddamned scared to tell her the truth, too scared she wouldn’t give me a reason to stick around. Shay guarded herself with an emotional mine-field. Stepping on an IED once was enough.
I could tell her I loved her. I could tell her I’d stay with her.
I could tell her my headache was so excruciating all I wanted was to lay in a darkened room in her arms and wait for the pain to finally kill me.
Who the hell know what she’d do then. If she’d care. Shay didn’t seem the family type unless she was obsessing over me being her step-brother.
Why even bother?
I grabbed a duffle bag and threw my clothes inside. My time in the service meant I packed light. Most of my real shit was in storage. Shay never asked. She assumed I looked for a free ride. The easy way out. A money-grab.
She even didn’t try to love me. She fought it with every beat of her heart and did her best to think the worst of me.
I thought pretty fucking low of myself too. Didn’t need her disappointment to double it.
I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder, pocketed my phone and keys, and headed out the back staircase.
Shay, of course, found me in the kitchen.
And, God, did she look stunning.
Either my vision blurred or Shay stood in a halo of gold. The black cocktail dress clung to her curves, and her rich, beautiful skin begged for a trail of kisses along the soft darkness. The neckline plunged low, just enough to tease the sweet swell of her breasts.
Breasts that looked plumper, more tempting than I remembered.
Fuck. The bounce of her chest reminded me of what I’d miss when I walked out the door. Her quick smile would make me regret leaving.
“I didn’t think you’d show,” she said.
“I got your text.”
For a split second, a burst of gratitude gentled her. It disappeared as she glanced over my jeans.
“You aren’t dressed!” Shay started to pace the kitchen. I assumed she hid from her guests. “We’re supposed to be all fancy.”