Chapter 15

Every time he fell asleep, a nightmare consumed him. Completely. At one point, he’d woken curled up on the floor, not knowing how he’d gotten there.

He gave up on sleep and not being a grumpy asshole sometime before dawn. Likely his crew had hangovers the size of Texas, and they’d be stumbling around all morning trying to get through them.

He would have zero sympathy as he worked his ass off. To keep his mind off of the thing he shouldn’t have his mind on. He pushed himself off the ground and got dressed, having showered last night to get the smell of bar and Becca out of his clothes, and hair, and mouth.

When Alex walked into the kitchen, Jack was already there, yawning into a mug of coffee.

“What the hell are you doing up?” Alex demanded.

“Drinking always makes me get up way too early. Made coffee.”

“Great. Thanks,” Alex grumbled.

“You look like you’ve been through hell. Or should I say, Becca Denton?”

Alex didn’t even bother to glare. He was too tired.

“I noticed she didn’t come in when we did last night. Good twenty minutes after,” Jack continued, clearly not taking a hint that Alex wanted nothing to do with this subject. Or maybe that was the point.

“Yes, because she wanted to needle me some more. Obnoxious woman that she is.”

“She’s sweet. Weirdest damn thing.”

“Why is that weird?”

“I’d kind of forgotten sweet existed. If you’d asked me a month ago if I would’ve wanted anyone around me to be sweet, I would have said fuck no. But…I don’t know. Not so bad coming from her.”

“If you say so.”

“She really bothers you, doesn’t she?”

Alex didn’t have to look at Jack to know he was grinning. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he returned. Becca didn’t bother him, she…she…jumbled up his damn soul.

“I think you do. She gets under your skin. And it bothers you that she does. Can’t say I mind watching it happen.”

“Can’t say I mind watching you shut the hell up.”

Jack laughed and, much like the woman in question, that created two very different responses in Alex. It annoyed the hell out of him, but it was good to see Jack laugh, even at Alex’s expense.

“So, are you going to tell me what transpired between you two outside the bar last night?”

“No.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it’s none of your business,” Alex replied, staring at the steaming, black liquid in his coffee mug.

“So, to be clear, what you’re saying is that something happened outside the bar between you and Becca…but it’s none of my business what that something was?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m—” Alex looked over at Jack, who was grinning broadly, and Alex realized he was playing a little too much into whatever Jack was trying to get at.

“So something did happen,” Jack reiterated.

“Since when did you get to be such a gossip?”

Jack stretched his arms behind his head and leaned back into his linked hands. It reminded Alex, a little painfully, of a time before, well, war.

“I think it’s something I’m going to take up in my military retirement,” Jack was saying. “Gossiping about other people’s sex lives.”

Alex pointed a finger at Jack. “Becca and I are not having sex. Jesus H. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re not having sex yet. I think yet might be an important word.”

“There is no important word.”

“Why can’t you just admit that you like her?” Jack asked, leaning forward, some of his easy smiles and amusement fading. “Why can’t you admit that she is smart and funny and cute, and she doesn’t take your crap too seriously, which I find the most endearing thing about her?”

“Why are you trying to matchmake? We have a foundation to start. With the woman in question. Who just happens to be—”

“No, you can’t use the stepsister thing only when it suits you.”

“Says who?” Alex demanded. It was a convenient excuse all in all, even if Becca had obliterated it last night.

Again Jack laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so…worked up. Or is it confused? Or is it”—Jack feigned a gasp of horror—“not knowing exactly what to do?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so annoying, and that is saying something, Jack.”

Jack was quiet for a while, and Alex could only hope that was the end of it. What he wouldn’t give to shut everyone up—including his own brain.

“Can you just explain to me why you think it would be so monumentally awful if you let yourself enjoy something with her?” Jack asked, sounding far more sincere than Alex wanted him to.

“What kind of question is that?”

“It’s an honest one. For as long as I’ve known you, Alex, you have taken on the responsibility of ten men. You’ve been a damn fine leader and even a good friend. You were one of the few people who didn’t make awkward jokes or avoid me altogether when the shit with Madison went down. But you have never allowed yourself one ounce of freedom. Fun.”

Alex tensed at the unfortunate truth in that. The past few years had not been fun. He’d been weighted. Drowning in responsibilities and the fate of others. Sometimes it had even felt like the fate of the country rested on his shoulders.

Which hadn’t been right, but…well, he’d been in charge of keeping peace, ensuring freedom. He was making up for the thing he’d been too young to fix. He’d lost the ability to take that lightly.

“Maybe that’s because I came into the regiment later and you’d already been deployed a couple times,” Jack continued in that same maddeningly even and sincere tone. “Maybe I didn’t know you at your fun-loving best. But she’s a sweet girl and she likes you. The only reason you haven’t started something with her is that we all work together—not that you’re not interested in her right back. You wouldn’t be conflicted if you didn’t feel something.”

Alex opened his mouth to stop this entire conversation. To bark out an order to cease and desist. Except he wasn’t supposed to order anyone around anymore. He’d promised to back off on that, and the promise was the only thing that had him shutting his mouth.

“I get working together can be sticky. But I’d say we’ve dealt with a lot stickier situations in our lives. So you’ll have to excuse me if that doesn’t hold much water.”

“What the hell is all of this to you?”

Jack drained the last of his coffee and gave a little shrug as he stood. “You know, believe it or not, Alex, you’re my friend and I care about you. Which hopefully is the only time in my life I actually have to say that out loud, unless I’m present at your deathbed. Gabe and I want you to be happy because…maybe you were sacrificing things for us because it’s how you’re wired, but it doesn’t mean it goes unnoticed. It certainly doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate it. We’re here because of you. We made it through that accident and hospital stint in large part because of you. So why does it matter? Because I like you, and I care as much about your future and happiness as you do about mine.”

With that, Jack walked swiftly out of the room.

Alex took Jack’s vacated seat, a headache throbbing at his temples as though he’d been the one to kick back twentysomething beers last night.

He wanted to dismiss everything Jack had said. He wanted to ignore it. But that was the thing about Jack that always snuck up on Alex. Jack knew how to push a guy’s buttons. He knew how to give reasoning so tight no one could get out of it.

He’d offered something Alex couldn’t ignore. Because if part of Jack’s happiness and healing was tied in with Alex being happy and healing himself…he was going to feel like a guilty ass until he did it.

But happiness was not intrinsically tied to Becca. Maybe she made him laugh, and occasionally talking about things he’d rather face an insurgent than deal with wasn’t so bad with her, but that didn’t mean he had to act on anything.

Maybe that kiss would haunt him for the rest of his life, but that didn’t automatically mean he should repeat it. Even if she was more than willing. Even if it was a little bit more than perfect.

Maybe he wanted to be around her most all the time, kissing or not, but that didn’t mean…

Hell. He might be an expert in denial, but even he could see how weak his “that didn’t means” were.

Now, if only he knew what the hell to do about that.

* * *

Becca groaned at the high-pitched trilling way too close to her ear. Her stomach sloshed and her head pounded. Even with her eyes still closed and the noise stopping, she felt gross and vaguely ill.

When she managed to open her eyes, she whimpered as the sunlight streamed in through the sides of her curtains.

She’d slept in, and her phone was ringing again, and she felt like utter shit.

How was this fair? She knew some people could drink all the alcohol in the world, but if she ever went over one hard alcoholic beverage, she was toast the next morning.

Her phone stopped ringing and she relaxed with a sigh of relief. Only to groan again when it started squawking.

She pawed around for the offending phone and wrinkled her nose at the fact that her hair still smelled like the cigarette smoke from outside the bar, even though she’d showered after coming inside last night. Hannibal meowed irritably from his position at the end of the bed. A spot he almost never left.

When she finally grabbed her phone and looked at the screen, she groaned again. This time not in pain, but in frustration and possibly guilt.

She hit Accept and tried to work some cheer into her voice instead of gravel and hangover. “Morning, Mom. How are you?”

“Worried.”

How unusual, Becca thought sarcastically. It was an unkind, snotty thought, and Becca winced at the way it almost escaped her mouth. “Worried about what?” she asked instead.

“Do you know how many people have told me they saw you at Pioneer Spirit last night?”

Becca scratched a hand through her still-stinky hair. “No. Why would people care if I was at Pioneer Spirit?” Becca tried to think of anyone last night who would have passed that on to Mom. Or why they would have.

“Because apparently they have more sense than you do.”

“Mom, I’m so not in the mood for this.” She didn’t trust herself to be kind in the face of Mom’s criticizing worry. Not this morning. Not when she was feeling crappy and late for her chores.

“Why, because you’re hungover? Because you had some crazy night on the town?”

“Mom, I’m almost twenty-five. I get to go to a bar if I want to go to a bar. I hardly had some sort of drunken orgy.” She probably shouldn’t have put that idea into Mom’s head. Now that’s all she would be convinced of.

Mom’s silence on the other end was damning. Flippancy had never calmed her mother’s worry, and Becca knew better than to employ it. “Mom, I—”

“If this is the influence those men are having on you, then I absolutely want you staying in town with me.”

“You know I can’t stay with you and take care of the horses.”

“Isn’t that what we have Hick for?”

“No, Hick is for helping with the cattle and watching over things if we need to get out. He is integral, but I’m not having him do all my work for me while I sit in your house because you’re afraid that I… What are you even afraid of? Mom, I haven’t been really sick in years.”

“Are you sleeping with them?”

“Sleeping with who?” Becca demanded, too sluggish to keep up with Mom’s accusations.

“Any of them. Have they convinced you that—”

“Mom. Seriously. You can’t do this. I am an adult.”

“Yes. One I’ve protected your whole life. You don’t know a thing about men or what they’re capable of. I thought I could trust Alex, being Burt’s son, but—”

“I am not completely unaware of the fact that men can be awful. That people can be cruel. That’s life. I may not have experienced much of it, but I’m aware of it. You can’t—”

“I never even had the talk with you.”

Becca physically and emotionally recoiled. “And you don’t need to. Please. Listen to me.” Becca let out a breath and tried to think, but it was hard finding reason and sense with the pounding in her head and the frustration deep in her bones.

“I know I’m not very good with people—well, actually I’m finding I’m just not used to people, not that I’m bad with them. I certainly don’t have a lot of experience with guys, but I know what goes on in the world. I know what sex is and… But I’m not…” She didn’t know what exactly she should give Mom. The whole story? Just nip this in the bud? How did she cut these apron strings when they had been tied so tight and for too long?

“Can you just trust that if I have a problem or someone hurts me or I don’t know what to do that I will come to you? I will tell you and I will ask you for help and advice. Can you let me figure some things out on my own if I promise to come to you the first time I don’t want to or can’t do that?”

“You are all I have left in this world,” Mom said with a sniff audible over the phone. “I have tried so hard to give you some space like Burt wanted me to, but I hate it. I hate losing you like this.”

Becca felt unwanted tears sting her eyes. That was the problem with this whole thing. She was all her mom had left. Mom had lost the few people in her life who had stood by her, and she had friends, sure, but Becca didn’t know how much she let them in. Becca didn’t know how much she needed to be her mother’s crutch.

There wasn’t an easy answer. Telling Mom to back off and hanging up wasn’t fair, but giving in to everything she wanted wasn’t fair either. It all just kind of sucked.

“I love you,” Becca managed, because she didn’t know what else to say.

“I love you too, baby. I just wish you’d come home with me. The house here in town is so sweet, and—”

“And far away from the business I’m trying to start. Mom, this is everything I ever wanted, and I really like being on my own. I don’t say that to hurt you. I say that because I can’t…I can’t break myself to give you what you need. Can’t there be a compromise?”

“What kind of compromise?” Mom asked coolly.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I just wish you would… I need to do some things on my own. I want to make some mistakes on my own, and I want to do that without hurting you.”

“You being hurt will always hurt me.” Her mother’s voice was still cool and pinched and Becca wished it could be different.

But it couldn’t.

“I’m not sleeping with anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not getting drunk, though every once in a while I might indulge in a few too many. I’m taking care of myself. And I’m old enough to make all those choices.”

“Age doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“It does. It does. At some point, you have to let me be an adult. You have to let me go.” She didn’t want to say it out loud, certainly not to her mother, but the truth of the matter was that losing Burt so suddenly had woken Becca up.

Mom wouldn’t be around forever to hide behind. If Becca didn’t learn now to stand on her own two feet.

If she didn’t learn how to be someone who made her own choices and mistakes now, when would she?

“Mom.”

“I didn’t know the first thing about life when I got pregnant with you. Which is not a regret by any means, but your father…”

“I know the things that happened to you with him weren’t great, but you taught me… You married Burt. How could that not be the best example of what to look for in a man?”

“I won’t argue with you that his son is a good man, but you cannot replace Burt with Alex.”

Becca inhaled sharply, anger mixing with her sadness and frustration. “That’s not what I’m doing, Mother.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

Becca was sure. She was totally sure. It wasn’t… She wasn’t looking for a replacement for Burt. She wasn’t looking for Alex to be some father figure. Someone to tell her what to do and someone…

If she had been looking for a Burt replacement, she wouldn’t have picked a man who made everything ten times more difficult than it had to be.

“I have to get to work.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as it should have been, but Becca had a hard time caring. Mom made her feel stupid and like she didn’t know her own self, and Becca wasn’t going to let that happen anymore. No matter how many good intentions her mother had.

“I want you to think about what I said, and I want you to think about moving—”

“Goodbye, Mother.” She hit End more forcefully than necessary. She scooted down to where her cat was glaring at her and let herself shed a few tears because she hated being put in a position where she hurt her mother or she hurt herself. She hated being in a position where Mom thought that somehow undermining everything Becca was doing would make her safe or happy.

Sometimes in life, a person had to do things that sucked. Sometimes she was going to have to experience things that felt uncomfortable and hard and shitty. She’d lost Burt, hadn’t she?

She had to believe it was okay to feel sad and shitty and horrible about those things, as long as she didn’t wallow in it. As long as she understood that she’d made her choice, and it was a good one, and she had to move on regardless of whose approval she had.

But mostly what she had to do right now was take a shower and get the smell out of her hair, and drink approximately a metric ton of coffee and then go check on her horses.

After all, her horses would understand her inner turmoil…but they couldn’t talk back. They couldn’t give advice and they couldn’t reassure. They could do a lot, but they weren’t exactly people.

She gave Hannibal a last stroke and then walked into her bathroom and grabbed a towel. She had thought she’d gotten over wishing for a real friend some time when she’d been a teenager, but the want was back. That wish for someone to talk to who might understand. Or in lieu of understanding, just support. Someone who would tell her she was right or her mom was wrong. No matter how childish it was, that was what she wanted right now.

She got in the hot spray of the shower and thought of Alex and even Jack and Gabe. There were things she knew about each of them that she didn’t think very many people did. Jack had given her quite a glimpse into his life before the military, and Alex had told her about their injuries, and maybe it wasn’t so crazy to think of them as friends who might support her.

Of course, they were also former Navy SEALs who seemed as okay with discussing feelings as bulls were about being castrated, but maybe this was another thing she should push on. Ask for.

She smiled to herself for the first time this morning. It wasn’t castration season yet, so a discussion about feelings it would have to be.