As I stretch through stiffness and the annoying ache in my thigh, a moment ticks away and I feel something akin to disgust. No one should live here. Salt corrodes the metal rail. Buckled at the bottom, it barely connects with stairs that need more than a new coat of stain. I catalog the repairs and the time it'll take before I'm comfortable with Piper calling this place home.
Grabbing my rucksack from the truck bed, I watch Gus take a running start. He makes it up the steps and to the porch with enough force that he skids to a stop by the yellow knotted pine facade. I follow, steeling myself for whatever comes next.
Anger assaults me before my knuckles lift off the wooden slats of her door. It's wrenched open and on the other side of the threshold is my new future. One I never wanted. And by the looks of it, the blond pixie is not inclined to welcome me home. Dark daggers shoot from her eyes as they narrow in recognition.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," she grounds through her teeth.
The next wave of violence echoes in my mind as the sting of her palm connects with my cheek. I blink back my surprise, pinching my lips together to hide my amusement.
"Nice to see you too, Piper," I murmur as her full lips fall open. When her bare foot slams down in a huff, I let my smile spread. She's a spitfire-or Rainbow Brite. With her platinum hair tipped in pink and blue and every other color, her animated rage is more cartoon than nightmare. But I won't ruin her moment by pointing that out.
"How . . . why . . . you bastard."
I nod in agreement. "But I know your mother taught you better manners than to greet a friend with a fist."
"Screw you and my mother." Her sputtered words increase in volume until ending with a roar to the ceiling.
Justin was my best friend. I'd known him since before I have memories, but I only met his girl once. And that was just in passing. Theirs was a quick and fierce connection that found them holed away for a month while we were on leave. When we left, she had a ring on her finger and six weeks into deployment, he learned of his impending fatherhood. I'd never seen him happier.
A baby. Hot damn, Lawless, I made a baby with the most beautiful woman in the universe. Fuck the words in my head. I grab my hair, wishing I could yank them out, along with his face when he told me the news. They rattle in my chest, and my breath falters somewhere between my diaphragm and throat. I've been here before. It's not always Justin talking; it's sometimes the crack of a bullet, the thud of knees hitting dirt, and the weight of his body falling close behind in a sick slow-motion replay.
"I didn't ask you to come, Caden Lawless. And if my hand didn't make it clear, you're not a welcome guest."
Piper's voice propels me past the noise, and I take a quick assessment. Her belly swells with the evidence of impending delivery, but pregnancy only adds to her appeal. What I remember as the angular lines of her face are softened at her cheekbones and jaw. Covered only by a short cotton sundress, the lean shape of her body has fleshed into soft curves with a bump in the middle. Piper is more than sexy. She's light and dark at the same time, bright hair and eyes the color of eternity. This woman is not just a moment in time, but all of them brought together. The kind you give your soul to and then rest your head at ease. She's endless, and most certainly my undoing.
Understanding comes in another flash. I told you the fuck so. Take care of her, you selfish son-of-a-bitch. The words-goddamn Justin and his never-ending monologue.
I wipe my mouth to snap the fuck out of whatever thought that just was. Thinking about my best friend, the guys, noises, and smells-the whole gamut always leaves me with something similar to the flu. My chest hurts, constricted by ribs that are suddenly too small. A headache pounds at my temples-symptoms that won't disappear no matter how many miles I run on the beach in the morning. It just is.
Gus makes his presence known, circling and sniffing Piper's legs. His interference allows me to slide past Piper and into the shithole she calls home. I drag in a deep breath of apple pie but the desert provided better accommodation than this, and I had to piss in a bucket.
The uneven floor creaks under my feet as I set my bag down. A mixing bowl in the far corner suggests the roof is just as unstable as the foundation. I glance from the paneled walls to the slip-covered couch to the white boxes stacked on her kitchen counter, a sparkling stove, and then to Piper when the weight of her stare hits me on the back. Her eyes churn with questions and turmoil so great it overflows into unspoken anger. But I feel it as surely as if the words were in the air between us.