The next morning we all load up in our respective vehicles, Theo bitching more than anyone else. “I don’t understand why Killer and Tim both have to ride with us. Why can’t they ride with Mason?”
Hayes, perched on his motorcycle, hollers across the driveway, “Because we couldn’t fit all your crowns in one vehicle, princess.”
“All the luggage is Anniston’s,” he argues, turning around to glare at Anniston in the passenger seat of her SUV, casually doing something on her phone like no one is yelling next to her. “I told you we didn’t have to bring half the house. Put some of that shit back so Tim can ride with Mason and Vic.”
Everyone laughs, knowing good and damn well he planned on pulling over and christening every gas station they stopped at. Anniston and Theo revel in being exhibitionists. Having Tim and Killer in the car shoots that plan to hell.
Anniston barely graces him with a look before Hayes barks out, “Get in the car, Von Bremen. It’s only an hour and a half drive.”
Theo, irritated from shit not going his way this morning, flips off Hayes, turns on his heel, and flops down in the driver seat. His window inches down slowly and he turns his head in my direction. I laugh before he even says anything. “Jameson. I will ram your ass if you drive like a chick. I’m serious. I’m not in the mood for your Sunday driving. Keep your foot on the gas.”
Breck snickers next to me, all buckled in like she should be. “I’m gonna put my foot on something else if you keep running your mouth,” I promise, only slightly joking. The asshole in the car next to me rolls his window up, cutting off anything else I would say, and revs his vehicle before speeding off, sending gravel flying up behind his tires.
“Why is he so upset this morning?” Breck asks, the mint of her breath prominent in the small cab. “I heard him and Ans in the kitchen this morning. He can’t be pent-up already.”
I eye Breck curiously. “Did you watch them?”
She scoffs. “No.” But her hands fidget in her lap, telling a different story.
“You little liar,” I tease, not offended in the slightest.
“They were on the island!” she exclaims in a hurry, thinking it would upset me. “Right in front of the stairs.” Her face is flushed from embarrassment.
I throw the truck in drive and follow behind Mason and Hayes. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve all watched them at some point. They aren’t discreet with their sex life.”
Breck nods, her face still pink. “Do you like public sex?” she asks with a hint of curiosity.
“No,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t. No one gets to see what’s mine.”
My answer seems to put her at ease, her shoulders loosening as she leans back against the seat. “Good, because I get stage fright.”
Her simple and honest answer puts a stupid grin on my face. “So you’re saying you aren’t able to come on demand?”
She frowns. “Can you come on demand?”
No, but I would be willing to try it with her. “I’m afraid not, but if you blow on me the right way and talk dirty, I might get really close to it.”
Her face turns crimson again and the tips of her ears match. I’ve embarrassed her. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like it when you talk dirty.” I reach over and grab her hand, interlacing our fingers. “No one has ever talked to me that way. I like it.”
That admission has her meeting my eyes with a hint of a smile. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I tell the girl who I lied to every weekend about why I was at the Farmers’ Market. For fifty-two weeks, I traveled into town and made up this bullshit excuse that we were out of jam. And every week, I would come home and put yet another jar of jam in the jam-packed cabinet.
Breck turns on the radio, filling the cab with soft country music. I try hard not to grin. “You like country?”
She shrugs her dainty shoulders, kicking her foot up on the dash. I cut her a look, and she glances back, raising her foot higher with a devilish grin. “I like classic country. None of the new pop country everyone seems to be coming out with.”
My foot slips off the gas. She likes the classics? She is never getting away from me now. The guys like to talk shit about my taste in music, which is eclectic really, but there’s something about driving that makes me want to blast the sounds of the south. Call me a good ole boy if you must, but a southerner I will always be. It reminds me of home, my dad taking me and my brother down old back roads, teaching us to drive with Willie Nelson blaring through the speakers. It was a time when I felt free and careless. Nothing could touch me in that truck.
Until it did.
Until I drove away from the only family that had ever loved me. I killed their son. Their true son. I let them down. I let Drew down, the best friend I ever had.
“Cade?”
The concern in Breck’s voice pulls me back from the thoughts of my parents. I swallow, clearing any emotion from my throat before turning and answering her. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
Her hand moves underneath mine, and it occurs to me that I was probably squeezing the hell out of it. “Did I hurt you? I uh …” I stroke the soft skin of her arm, giving her hand a break. “I zoned out for a moment. I’m sorry.”
Gray eyes blink back at me, measuring my words thoughtfully. When she seems satisfied, she undoes her seatbelt and slides to the middle of the bench. I tap the brake. “What are you doing? Put your seatbelt on.” I’m not joking around. The last thing my soul can handle is scraping her off the road after she’s flown through the windshield.
“I am. Hold your horses.”
Hold my horses? I give her a look. I am not amused.
“Five. Four.” I count down, tapping the brake, and it dawns on her I’m fucking serious.
She scrambles, locking her buckle together before I can get to three. “There. Nice and secure. Are you happy now?”
No. Because now I’m distracted as fuck with her curvy body next to me. Just thinking about yesterday in the gym has me rock hard.
“I didn’t realize The Foundation owned a lake house,” she says, changing the subject, easing the tension in my jeans.
“We don’t. It’s Theo’s. Well, I guess it’s Theo and Anniston’s.” Breck smiles, waiting for me to continue. “After he quit professional baseball, he sold his apartment in Atlanta and bought the lake house.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because he has more money than he knows what to do with?” I say, taking a guess. “I don’t know why he bought it, but the place is huge with five bedrooms and a separate apartment atop the boathouse. It easily sleeps all—” The reasoning hits me all at once. It sleeps all of us. Us. Not just him and Anniston. We’ve been coming here once a month for a year now. Fishing. Boating. Skiing. Grilling. We’ve had some really great times over the course of the year. As a matter of fact, it’s my favorite place to go. The serenity, the calm amongst the chaos.
That motherfucker.
I make an amused sound. Von Bremen likes to play the villain, but this goes to show he is anything but. In his own way, he has made contributions to this Foundation right under our nose.
“It sleeps?” Breck questions. Right. I stopped mid-sentence. “It sleeps all of us.” I don’t elaborate, allowing Theo his secrets.
Breck smiles. “You like it there?” she asks, hearing the fondness in my tone.
I nod. “Yeah. I love to fish and the atmosphere is so peaceful.”
“It’s been years since I’ve been to a lake. My parents preferred the beach.” Her voice seems sad.
“Do you miss having a relationship with your parents?” I ask. I’m curious because lately I find myself wondering if my parents are okay. They are getting older now and I wonder if they are in good health.
Breck sighs like it pains her to admit it. “Yeah. I do. We didn’t have the best relationship but I remember good times before Ben—” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes misting. “Cade, I need—”
“I’m adopted,” I blurt out like an idiot, cutting off whatever she was about to say. “I’m sorry,” I quickly add. “You first.”
A tear forms in the corner of those eyes that remind me of the mountaintops as they reach the heavens, and she swipes it away. “You first. I was just rambling.”
But it doesn’t feel like rambling. It feels like I interrupted something important. “Mine can wait. Please … go ahead.”
She waves me off with a forced smile. “It was nothing. Tell me about your family. You were adopted?” Her prompting is all I need to purge the other tragedy in my life.
“I am. My real mother was a surrogate for this rich couple.” I take a breath and Breck squeezes my hand in comfort. “They wanted a child, but the wife was infertile. So, my mom agreed to donate her egg and body for the couple to conceive, but when I was born …” My chest spasms and I have to rub the increasing knot there. “When I was born, the wife of the couple couldn’t bear to look at me. Said she was wrong and wouldn’t ever be able to love a child that wasn’t hers. My biological father signed over his rights, and I was left with my mother, who already had three children of her own. I was the outcast. My stepfather couldn’t bear to raise me because I wasn’t his. They fought all the time. And then he left. My mother was so angry—blamed me for her ruining her life. It wasn’t until I met Drew in fifth grade that things turned around. His parents were wonderful and welcomed me with open arms. I found myself sleeping over at their house more than my own. Eventually, Anne, Drew’s mother, asked me about my parents. By this time, I loved her more than I loved my own mother. I remember crying in her arms begging for her please not to send me back, and she shushed me, telling me everything would be fine.”
I sigh, chancing a look at B. Her eyes are watery. “She adopted you?” she guesses.
I nod. “Yeah. She went to see my mother. She never would tell me what happened but then she asked me if I would like to live with them forever.” I chuckle, remembering my reaction. “She couldn’t get the words out of her mouth before I was saying yes. I remember Drew being the happiest out of all of us. He said he had always wanted another sibling but something happened and his parents never could have any more children.”
My eyes feel heavy and itchy. Am I about to cry?
“Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat. “I became a Jameson after that. I was no longer a Davis, and I felt like I was reborn. The world was my oyster. So when Drew wanted to become a commissioned officer after college and travel the world, I was all over it. We decided on the Marines, and although I think I could have gone into the Air Force and become a pilot, Drew had dreams of becoming special forces. I had grown protective of him even though he was a few months younger than me, but he was wild and free spirited. Much like Theo.” Huh. Almost exactly like Theo.
“I wouldn’t leave him so I joined the Marines too. We were in this together.”
Breck shuffles, her hand squeezing mine tighter before she asks, “Is that why you don’t speak to them anymore? You feel you killed their real son?”
My throat constricts as she hits the proverbial nail on the head. “Yes. He was all they had, and I failed them.”
“Oh, Cade.”
I flinch. I don’t want her pity. I deserve the agony of being alone. I killed their son. My best friend. I took the only thing they had left in the world.
Breck unlatches her seatbelt, her hands going to my face in a gentle caress.
“What are you doing?” I ask. My foot eases off the gas, and I pull onto the shoulder. I refuse to drive with her unrestrained.
“Put your seatbelt back on,” I admonish, throwing my truck in park. Breck ignores my demand, placing a soft kiss on my cheek. Her lips feel warm and soft against my face. Her hands go to my hair, running through the strands, giving them a gentle tug. Another kiss to my temple has me reaching for her, pulling her body into me.
She drags her lips from my temple to my mouth, and I give in.
I want her.
I want her to make the images of Drew disappear.
I want her to make my parents disappointment in me disappear.
I want to lose myself in her until I can’t think of anything other than her warmth.
I’m kissing her hungrily when she goes for my jeans, her small hands flipping open the fly. Immediately, I’m pulled back to reality. What the fuck am I doing? We can’t do this. Not out here. What if I hurt her? I push at her hands, pulling away, and catch my breath.
“We can’t do this,” I tell her, the pain in my voice matching the pain in my jeans. Breck ignores me, unbuckling my seatbelt, and shoves at my chest, pulling my legs onto the seat so I’m reclined against the window.
“No,” I tell her, stopping her fingers with my hand. Her face, splotchy with unshed tears, falls even further. “I want to. I do. But last time …” I remind her. With what I can only describe as determination, she takes my hand and slips it under her shirt, placing my palm over her heart. It thumps rapidly underneath my touch.
And then she tugs my jeans down.
“No dirty talk this time,” she tells me, pulling me out of my boxers, her fingertip rubbing over my swollen head. “Listen here,” she continues, pushing my hand more flush against her chest. “Stay with me, Cade.” And then she slides off her cotton shorts, moving over me, straddling me the best she can in our cramped space. She rises on her knees, her face searching mine for any signs of distress. With one hand, she cups my cheek, her soft skin against my rough one, and with her other hand, grips me hard, lining up with her entrance.
“Be with me, Cade. Just me.”
I don’t know what finally makes me give in. Maybe it’s the determination in her eyes, or maybe it’s because I feel stronger when she’s around. Maybe it’s because I love her and I want to make her proud. Either way, I take a breath and guide her down, sheathing me inside her. The warmth is what I notice first. Then the squeezing as though something is massaging the tension from within.
It’s been five long years since I’ve been inside of a woman. And being bare … nothing compares to the feeling of her hot skin on mine. Deep within her body, my dick slides along, grazing her innermost parts. She’s perfect. So fucking perfect. My eyes are heavy and threaten to close while my head falls back to the window. Breck’s grip is firm though, and she pulls it up, coaxing me out of my head with her breathy voice. “Look at me, Cade.”
I do. I look at her with every neuron I have. I look at the moisture dotting her makeup-free forehead. I look at her lips, parted ever so slightly as she chases her ecstasy. I take in the curve of her earlobe, the tiny cupcake earring nestled within it. I watch her naturally long lashes flutter as she struggles to keep her eyes open.
And when she looks down, her hand taking my head with her, I take in the sight of us becoming one. My length disappearing into her body. Her taking all of me. Every. Broken. Piece. Profound and beautiful, I watch the girl who pushed at me, tempting and charming as she chipped away the armor of my heart right up under my nose. I watch her hand clutch mine to her chest as she comes undone, crying out, her rhythm slowing and her heart rate slowing. “Don’t be scared,” she says, still moving on top of me. “I’ve got you.”
The way she’s looking at me is like she alone has enough willpower to keep my head here. This beautiful woman is offering her silent strength. She’s fighting the demons alongside of me, and it’s with another squeeze of her hand that I know there’s no way I won’t stay in this moment with her.
This woman is my partner.
My stubborn-as-fuck woman.
The girl who has wormed her way into my heart with her sweet tone and sassy mouth.
The woman who loves me despite my sins and without judgement.
This woman. This incredible woman is a motherfucking hero.
And I am so done running from her.
With both hands, I reach up and bring her face down to mine. I kiss her hard, our teeth clashing against one another. I take her hand pressing mine to her chest, and I move it to mine, allowing her to feel my heartbeat instead. She makes a small sound that undoes me right then and there. I grasp her hips and drive into her from below, chasing my everything until it erupts out of me with a roar, doubling me over into her chest.
Our bodies are slick with sweat, our breathing erratic and fast when she manages out, “Happy Birthday, Cade.”
I kiss her hard until she has to pull back for air.
This woman is mine.
I stare, taking in Breck’s disheveled appearance. Her mouth quirks and turns rather smug. “I thought you didn’t do public sex.”
I laugh and kiss the side of her neck, reveling in the smell of apples coming from her. “I thought you got stage fright?”
She pulls back, shrugging, a naughty gleam in her eye. “Maybe I can see the appeal.”
We arrive two-and-a-half hours later than everyone else. One step into the modern lake house, and we’re greeted by all the guys with a standing ovation, led by Theo.
“It’s about fucking time. Pay up, bitches! I won,” he says to the four men behind him. He holds his hand up for a high five and I ignore him and pass by, pulling Breck behind me. I sure hope she isn’t embarrassed because if she decides to stay with me, this is a common occurrence. I’ve been guilty of teasing Theo more than once.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, pulling her down the hall toward the back exit to the boathouse apartment where we’ll be staying. “Unfortunately, it probably won’t be the last time he says something shitty this weekend.”
Breck laughs softly. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s like you have five brothers.”
I pause, my hand on the door to the boathouse. Brothers. “Huh. I guess it kind of is.”
A sincere smile tugs at my lips as I open the door for Breck to step inside. The apartment is small with only one bedroom and one bathroom. It’s pretty much a glamorized hotel room. But at least it’s away from the guys and their incessant teasing.
“This is beautiful,” Breck mumbles, running the pad of her finger along the driftwood furniture Anniston picked out.
“Anniston decorated,” I add. “And Theo and I—well mostly me—redid the floors and painted.”
Breck makes an amused sound at Theo’s lack of help and pokes her head into the bathroom, taking in the upgraded space with fresh paint and tile on the floors. “You guys did a great job. It looks like something out of a magazine.” I never thought about it like that, but yeah, I guess it does. “Do you mind if I freshen up?” She nods toward the bathroom.
“Sure. There are clean towels in the cabinet. Take your time. I’ll go get our bags.”
She stands on her toes, arching her back for a kiss. I indulge her, tasting the salty taste along her top lip. “Mmm … I take it back. Hurry.” I give her a little slap on the ass and she moans, disappearing behind the door while I head outside to get our bags.
Like most women, Breck takes forever in the shower. I’ve already retrieved our bags from the car and have been playing pool with Theo on an app on my phone. I’m winning and I know it’s killing him. He sinks the eight ball and ends the game. I’m typing out a text to rub it in when a buzzing sounds from Breck’s overnight bag.
It’s got to be her phone. Should I answer? What if it’s Sue?
The buzzing starts up again. I’ll just get it and take it to her.
Unzipping her bag and rooting around way too many clothes for a weekend, I finally locate her phone and pull it out, a necklace wound around it.
I bring the phone up to eye level and unwind the necklace. It’s not a necklace.
It’s dog tags.
I’m frozen, my body literally locked in one position when Breck opens the bathroom door, steam billowing out behind her like stage art. “Sorry I took so long—”
She gasps at the sight of me, the air whooshing from her lungs. I’m crouched over her bag, Bennett’s dog tags clutched in my hands.
“Your phone was ringing,” I mutter in a low, robotic tone. She looks confused for a moment like my statement wasn’t what she was expecting. Should I have said his full name? Called out his birthday? His blood type? Did she think I wouldn’t recognize his name? Everything about this kid is ingrained in me.
I was his brother.
His superior.
I held his hand as the life drained from his eyes.
My forearm tenses, thinking about his face, the last time I saw him, bloody and trying to smile through the pain. Through the fear. He was staying strong. For me.
I haul off and punch Breck’s overnight bag with a sound that is almost animalistic. Rage is coursing through my veins, and my heart pounds in my ears, deafening any other sounds. My chest heaves like I’m suffocating but that can’t be true.
Another sound escapes my chest. It sounds like I’ve been possessed by a demon. I raise my head slowly, my lip twitching into a snarl when Breck takes a cautious step toward the front door.
The movement snaps me out of the rage. I spring to my feet like I weigh nothing. Hell, I can’t even feel my legs—the endorphins have taken over. “You’re a liar, Brecklyn Brannon,” I grit out, taking a calculated step toward her.
A cry bubbles out of her throat and I want so bad to go to her but I don’t. She’s a traitor.
“I’m not a liar,” she pleads, her eyes searching my cold, closed off ones. “I was going to tell you. Please let me explain.”
My head goes back and an evil sounding laugh erupts out of me. “So you wanted to confront your brother’s killer. Is that it?”
I don’t give her the chance to explain. Instead, I take another step toward her so we’re toe to toe. “Well, here I am, sweetheart. Let me make it easy for you.”
Tears are streaking down her face at a rapid pace, but she can’t seem to form any words when I produce a knife from my pocket. I press the button and it makes a clicking sound when it extends.
Breck cries out, the words garbled. “Cade,” she pleads with me, her small hands reaching for me.
My face is blank, detached even, when I grab her wrist and place her hand around the handle, pushing the blade against my neck. Her hands tremble beneath mine and it only makes me increase the pressure, driving the knife farther into my neck.
“Please don’t do this,” she begs, trying to break my hold. But I’m stronger, and I increase the pressure until I feel the sting of the blade breaking skin.
“Stop this!” the girl who just made love to me in the car demands.
I laugh at her fake tears. “This is what you came here for, right? Vengeance?”
She’s shaking her head, her free hand pushing against my chest. “No,” she denies vehemently, the tears masking the smoke color I love so much. “I came here for you. To help you.”
A growl erupts out of me, the pressure from our hands becoming increasingly difficult to talk through. “Lies. It’s all lies. Everything about you is a lie,” I yell.
Her knees give way and she collapses, but I’m well past giving a fuck at this point. I make a tsking noise, yanking her back up. “Finish what you started. Tell me how much you hate me. Tell me what a coward I am. Tell me I’m a killer.”
Sobs rack through her entire body and my chest aches to comfort her, but I don’t because what we had was a lie.
A covert mission.
“No,” she argues, seemingly drawing strength from somewhere. “You will not do this to us.”
Us. There is no us.
“I killed him,” I grit out slowly so she understands. “You want to know how great of a hero I am, Brecklyn?” I spit her name like it’s poison. “While I was fucking the journalist, your brother was gasping for air.”
I let out a bitter laugh that doesn’t sound borderline crazy, and Breck sobs a painful sound. “I fucked her right where you saw me getting blown that day on the computer.” As soon as I saw his name on the dog tags, I remembered her. “I can’t even remember the journalist’s name. But I remember you. Your eyes, as you watched me come apart in her mouth. I wanted you. I wanted to see the blush on your cheeks glisten under my sweat. I wanted to wreck you.” I chuckle dryly, fingering a piece of her hair, the pain in her eyes gripping my heart. “But instead, you wrecked me.”
With the knife still at my throat, I continue on. “He” —I can’t even get the words out—“he called out to me in the rubble. Want to know what his last words were?” Now I’m just being mean. Bleeding my pain onto her innocence. “He said …”
A tear falls from my eye, and even though I’m being a total asshole, Breck still reaches for me with her free hand and says, “No matter what you say, I’m still with you. I’m strong enough for the both of us.”
The guilt eats at me as she stands in front of me, strong and defiant just like her damn brother. Relentless. “He said it was an honor to serve with you, Major.” She only lets one tear fall, and it pisses me off. “An honor?” I shout. “I sent my team on without me. I sent your brother, my brother, to their deaths, Breck. All because I wanted pussy.”
She still doesn’t budge, her chin straight, her face strained. “You would have died, too,” she argues like she isn’t arguing with her brother’s killer.
I yank her closer, and she gasps from the shock. “I would have known to check the cabinets! It should have been me!” I yell to the senseless woman in front of me.
She whimpers but she doesn’t back down. “Don’t do this,” she begs. “I’m so sorry. I should have told you who I was.”
“You should have killed me when you had a chance,” I tell her, seconds from spiraling into a full-blown attack. My hands tremble over hers and I know if I don’t get out here right now, I will end up hurting someone.
“I won’t let you do this,” she challenges, trying to pull my hand from hers but failing.
I yank her closer. “Do it,” I beg. “Put me out of my misery. I killed your brother. I killed the only family you had.”
She cries out, shocking me out of the rage. “Help me!” she yells, her voice echoing in the small space. “Help me!” she calls out again.
I grit my teeth, the rage dissipating at her tears and cries for help. No matter how angry I am, I’m not for scaring women. Even the ones who lied and finally broke through my armor. “No one is coming, B. You had them all convinced that you loved me. They won’t bother us until the morning.” My voice is resigned, quiet even, as I let her hand go, flipping the blade back into the handle of the knife. “I’m sorry,” I tell her for the millionth time that I’ve known her. “You and your brother deserved so much better than me.”
Sighing, I place the dog tags in her hand, closing each of her fingers around them, honorably.
Her tears fall at a steady stream as she secures them in her palm. “Please don’t do this to us. I’m sorry for not telling you the truth.”
I swipe at the tears falling down her face, memorializing her. “I’m sorry, too,” I whisper with all the regret in the world.
I deserve this.
Falling in love with Brannon’s sister.
His warrior.
I turn and head out the door, not even turning around when she sobs, “I love you. I loved you before I even saw you. His letters. He spoke so highly of you.”
Does it feel like my chest is on fire? Absolutely, but even the pain doesn’t make me turn around.
I’m letting her go.
I head straight for my truck, my keys a comforting escape in my pocket.
“Cade!”
Anniston’s voice stops me. I turn and see her on the dock, her eyes going between me and Breck standing outside the boathouse. I give them both one final glance and then I turn around, done with everything, and continue up the hill to where my truck is parked.
“Cade!” Anniston’s shout draws a crowd, and before I know it, all five of my brothers are on the front deck with matching concerned expressions. I give them a nod, silently asking for them to watch over the girls, but I keep heading to my truck.
Theo hops the bannister and takes off in a jog, catching up easily. “Where you headed?”
I don’t spare him a glance. “Look after them for me,” I tell him, fishing my keys out of my pocket, my truck just a few steps away.
Theo scoffs. “Fuck no. I’m done taking care of strays. You brought Breck into our lives, she’s your responsibility.”
I ignore the stray comment and unlock the door, Theo appearing in the passenger seat. I sigh. “Go back to the house, Von Bremen. The girls are upset.”
He buckles his seatbelt, clearly not going anywhere. “It looks like the girls are more than upset. I’ll be damned if I stay in that mess. Where we headed? I hope it’s not the streets because I can’t deal without a shower every day.”
I start the engine with one more companion than I want, and look over at the pain in my ass already changing my preset radio stations. “Von Bremen?”
“Hmm?”
“Shut up or I’ll stab you.”