Chapter Two
Kenna and Ash came in second place in the badminton tournament, which made her smile. Especially since Bear stomped around the sand pissed off that he and Sam placed fourth. Kenna couldn’t help but smile a little over that. It was the small victories that mattered. After, the women trekked across the resort to the spa. Sam had scheduled an afternoon of pampering and relaxation. Kenna didn’t know about the rest of the ladies, but she could sure use some freaking relaxation.
And time away from Bear to get her head on straight.
There were five of them in the steam room, all outfitted in white towels secured under their arms. In addition to Kenna, Sam, and Aunt Estelle, others included Sammie’s grandma, Rose, who kept wiping a finger across her glasses to clear the fog. She had the comforting countenance of a typical grandmom, with her gray hair, round face, and full midsection. Anytime Kenna visited, Rose always made her feel welcome and at home.
Celia, who lived on the same street in Baltimore as Sam, Estelle, and Rose, was quiet and sweet. Kenna didn’t think she’d heard the woman say more than two words in the time since she’d met her. She was the smallest of the older ladies, her bony shoulders protruding out like sharp wings. What softened her appearance was a strand of white pearls and perfect chignon at the base of her neck.
Kenna had spent most of the earlier match stealing glances at Bear, trying to come to terms with the fact that he was actually here. It felt like some sort of dream, or rather a nightmare. Like he’d been manifested, forcing her to remember everything they would never share together. Everything he chose to take away from them.
Thankfully, the steam room and a little girl time was what she needed to forget about all of that.
She closed her eyes and leaned against the slick tile behind her, inhaling slow, deep breaths, letting the hot air fill her lungs. Sweat beaded over her body, and with it, she tried to let go of the negativity she’d brought to the surface after seeing Bear. Finally, her muscles relaxed and her mind wandered into safer territory.
Until Sammie spoke.
“I’m not going to wear the ring this weekend.”
Kenna popped one eye open and took in Sam’s decided expression.
“Seriously,” she went on. “I should’ve never accepted when you offered. It was your momma’s ring. You should wear—”
“Stop,” Kenna said, shifting away from the now uncomfortable wall. “We promised. I still want you to wear it, and that’s final.”
“But—”
Kenna cut her off with a sharp look.
When they were girls, Sam and Kenna had made a pact that whoever got married first would wear her mom’s sapphire ring as their something blue. Since Kenna and Bear had been together as teens and seemed most likely to tie the knot first, it hadn’t seemed like a big deal to agree to the innocent accord. But then Kenna and Tyke’s relationship crashed and burned in spectacular fashion, and Sam got engaged, and it suddenly became a huge deal.
That ring was Kenna’s only tie to the woman she loved and lost. She used to lie awake staring at it, wishing it were her mom with her instead. Every time that beautiful blue stone caught the light and sent shimmering streams across her bedroom walls, she knew her mom was there. Giving her strength. Telling Kenna she was loved.
For that reason, she desperately wanted a piece of her mom at Sammie’s wedding. But—and it was a very large but—the ring also symbolized the future she and Bear had planned but would never have. And seeing that reminder, even on her best friend’s finger, was going to jolt her into the past where forever, babies, and never-ending love were nothing but pipe dreams for Kenna.
Nonetheless she had to hold up her end of the deal, even if it killed her.
“Mom would’ve wanted it this way,” Kenna said, knowing Sam wouldn’t argue that point. “She loved you. It would mean so much knowing she was here on your special day.”
Sam wanted to rebut, Kenna could see it in the way her mouth twisted as if she was physically holding the words back. But Sam didn’t let go, instead she dropped her chin with a sharp nod.
Aunt Estelle reclined onto the teak bench, her artificially tanned, wrinkled cleavage deep and noticeable above the towel. “So this whole time, Bear was right under my nose, within nuts-kicking reach, and I didn’t know.”
Apparently Bear had been in Baltimore for more than a year, working with Ash and his DEA teammates to track down a dangerous drug supplier. He and Estelle had met more than once and had even tossed a few drinks back together.
“He hurt my girl,” Estelle said with a shake of her dyed-brown head, “and I had a chance to get him. Still can’t get over that. If I’d known…”
“What?” Kenna asked. “What would you have done?”
Estelle’s lips twitched. “Probably would’ve snapped his osenteller off.”
Eyebrows of the other women sank as they put the meaning together. Once they realized what Estelle meant, their brows shot in the opposite direction and loud echoes of laughter filled the room.
“I’ve never heard it called that before,” Sam said through a chuckle. “That’s funny. I can’t wait to say that to Ash tonight.”
Kenna also laughed at the ridiculous name Estelle had invented when Kenna had questioned the birds and the bees as a young girl. It was the first of many inappropriate Estelle-esque vocabulary words she’d learned throughout her childhood.
Celia cleared her throat and sat forward, primly folding her hands in her lap. “Excuse me. What’s an os…osenteller?”
“Oh, Cee.” Estelle brushed the question away with a wave of her wrinkled hand. “Think about it. His willy. Weiner. Pecker.”
“Penis,” Kenna supplied.
“Doo-hickey!” Sam said.
“Man meat!” Kenna said.
“Tallywacker,” Rose said.
The women continued to go down the long list of synonyms until the laughter made it difficult to hear what they were saying.
When the humor in the room eventually died down, the women exchanged a look, then turned a sympathetic gaze on Kenna.
“Forgive me, dear,” Rose said, sliding her wire-frame glasses down her nose to blot them on her towel. “I don’t want to bring up bad memories for you, but I’m curious. Bryan never told you why he didn’t come back?”
Kenna shook her head. “Nope.”
The sadness and sympathy in the other women’s eyes made Kenna’s heart ache. After what Bear did to her, she’d seen enough pity and ridicule from acquaintances and neighbors in their hometown. She didn’t need it here, too.
“I’m fine, though,” she went on. “It was so long ago. I can barely remember what it was that I loved about him in the first place.”
Thought it wasn’t love?
“Wanted,” she said quickly. “I don’t remember what it was about him that I wanted.” Her voice wasn’t as strong as she’d practiced, and given the other ladies’ expressions, they’d heard it, too.
“Just seems odd,” Rose continued. “And uncharacteristic from what I’ve seen. He’s so self-assured. I didn’t take him for a man who would hurt another person that way. He had to know how his not returning would affect you.”
He didn’t care that he’d hurt her. Because he must not have loved her the way she’d loved him.
“It does seem strange,” Celia said in a soft, mousy voice. As she twisted the clasp of her pearl necklace, she looked at Kenna like her next statement was going to hurt Kenna’s feelings. When it came to Bear, her feelings had already been demolished. The frail woman couldn’t do any more damage. “Didn’t he try to contact you? When Edward was in the service, he told me he wrote every day, but I only received twenty letters. The postal service can be such a terrible thing when you’re impatiently waiting for communication.”
Kenna attempted a smile. “After bugging him and his superiors with a barrage of emails and voice messages, I finally got a really short Dear Kenna email.” She paused, thinking back to when she’d gotten it. How excited she’d been. How she couldn’t wait to hear about his adventures overseas. Little did she know how fast her elation would fade. The words he’d written haunted her even now. “He told me things weren’t going to work out the way we’d planned. That I deserved better and should move on with my life without him. No explanation or reason why. I wrote him about four hundred emails back. Left a million more voice messages. Never got anything else in return.”
She’d reread that email a thousand times, dissecting every word for any sliver of meaning. She’d spent months wracking her brain trying to understand what would’ve caused his change of heart. Another woman, PTSD, or the worst of all, he didn’t love Kenna anymore. But the simple fact had been, no matter the reason, he didn’t want her. So she tried to accept that and move on.
It proved harder than she ever imagined.
Nearly impossible, in fact.
She’d dated, tried to open herself up again. But it was a lost cause. She’d only had one heart, and he’d taken it with him and never brought it back.
“There has to be a reason why,” Sam jumped in indignantly. “I mean, it’s Tyke. He’s a big teddy bear. All mean and crotchety on the outside, but soft and squishy on the inside. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’m sure of it.”
Kenna stood, ready to exit the no-longer-relaxing steam room. “Well, he did. And at this point, I don’t care why. It was so long ago it doesn’t matter.” At least that’s what she’d been telling herself over and over. What did Queen Elsa say? Conceal, don’t feel. That was Kenna’s motto. She could conceal the shit out of her feelings. Her heart might be on the brink of ripping apart, but damn it, she was going to hold it together for the sake of Sammie and Cassandra. This was their week. They deserved happiness.
Kenna took two steps toward the door but stopped and turned. “And don’t any of you get any slick ideas about asking him why.” She zeroed in on her aunt first. “Especially you.”
“What?” Estelle lifted her meaty shoulders and palms to the ceiling like she was all innocence.
“Don’t meddle. He left. That’s it. I don’t care anymore. We’re done.”
“But what if he—” Sam started.
“And you.” Kenna spun to point at her childhood friend. “You have a wedding to enjoy. I don’t want you getting down because of me. This is supposed to be a fun week. Stop worrying and start enjoying yourself.”
She cut off whatever argument was on its way by swinging the door open and stepping into the chilly air-conditioned hallway. Swiping an extra towel from the side cabinet, she dabbed sweat from her face as she walked toward her massage appointment.
Hopefully her masseuse was well versed in working out mangled heart muscles.
…
The week from hell. That’s what this was going to be. Everything Tyke had locked away for the last decade, all the guilt he thought he’d finally come to terms with, was going to be put on display at this damn wedding. He wasn’t ready.
Maybe if he could apologize to her. Find the right place. The right time. Explain why he never came back. She’d understand. Then he could finally swallow this guilt he’d been carrying around like an extra organ.
How about twelve years ago? That would’ve been the perfect time to come clean, huh, dickhead?
Sure, it would’ve. If he hadn’t been so ashamed of himself in the first place.
Goddamn, she looked good. Too good. Seeing her again filled Tyke with a need to reach out and touch her. Stroke her face. Pull her to him. Feel her against his body.
Which would be the worst idea, since she hated him. They’d avoid each other this week, she’d said. It was for the best. But Christ was it going to be hard to stay away from her. After all this time, he still wanted her, even if it wasn’t the best thing long term. He still craved to be with her.
The sun had set hours ago, so the only light came from strategically placed tiki torches and the faint glow of the resort about a hundred yards away. Another one of Sam’s wonderful ideas—they were told to gather on the beach for a luau.
White tables and chairs filled the area. There was a pig roast, fresh fruits and vegetables, and, of course, his favorite: free drinks. Everyone was either seated at a table—Sam and Cass were nice enough to assign seats—or they stood, mingling with one another.
Tyke had gone back to the bar four times and still didn’t feel drunk enough to get through this. He’d finally given up on the extra steps from his assigned table to the bar and decided to stay back there.
He stood in the appetizer line, piling tortilla chips and taco dip onto a plate when a woman’s voice caught his attention. The sound traveled from behind him.
“I’m telling you, I wore it on the plane here. But I can’t find it.” The rushed, concerned sound in her tone made Tyke pause.
He glanced over his shoulder at a fifty-something couple seated with their side profiles to him. The wife, wearing a bright-pink sleeveless dress, looked at her husband with a distraught expression.
The husband, with salt-and-pepper hair styled like a weatherman, polo shirt and tan shorts, placed a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder. “We’ll search again when we get back to our room, Claire. I’m sure you just overlooked it.”
“It’s my mother’s watch, Richard. I don’t even know why I took it off. I should’ve left it on when we went to the beach earlier.”
“We’ll find it,” he said. “Don’t worry.”
Her eyes went glassy, and she blinked rapidly. “I hope so.”
Tyke turned back to the food, giving the couple the privacy they needed. Hopefully they found what she was looking for.
He approached the bar with plate in hand. Dropping a big tip, he asked the bartender to keep the refills coming.
He must have looked like a lonely, pathetic son of a bitch sipping his beer and eating his chips, because Ash, Luke, and Jason joined him.
He’d rather look lonely and pathetic over the company of these assholes.
“So.” Calder reached onto Tyke’s plate and popped a chip into his mouth. “You were engaged, huh?”
Tyke grunted.
Ash leaned across and picked up a chip of his own. He scooped a huge helping of taco dip and shoved it into his mouth. Through the mouthful, he said, “You actually put a ring on a woman’s finger.”
He had. Her late mother’s sapphire ring, to be exact. But he wasn’t going there. He’d be damned if he opened up to Luke and Ash about what happened. What he’d done. How he’d treated Kenna. Instead, Tyke handed the plate to Calder. He preferred beer for dinner anyway. He gulped the ice-cold liquid like it was his last dying breath.
Wasn’t doing much, though. He was going to need something stronger than beer. Maybe a few dozen shots.
“So what spooked you about Kenna?” Luke tossed another chip into his mouth, chewed, then swallowed. “Her hot-ass body? Sexy blue eyes? Killer smile?”
“Yeah,” Ash said, elbowing Luke in the ribs. “I can totally see why you’d run from that one. Total dog.” He shuddered.
Reese was the only one of the group not to comment, and that’s because his attention was hooked on the other side of the beach, where his cute blonde from earlier was standing. She sipped from a glass filled with pink liquid, occasionally sending coy come-hither looks Reese’s way.
“Think she’ll show?” Ash asked Luke, shielding a grin behind the top of his beer.
No need to guess who Ash meant. Kenna wasn’t at the luau. Not that Tyke had been looking for her. Just happened to spot her name on the seating chart, and happened to see the empty seat at table four where she should’ve been.
Luke set the empty plate on the bar behind them, then propped his elbows on the counter. “No way she’s coming tonight. Did you see how much force she put behind that punch? Pretty impressive for such a petite thing.”
She did put a lot of force into hitting him. Which was unexpected. He knew she’d be mad if she ever saw him again. Hell, he was mad. He’d be pissed for the rest of his life because of what he’d done to her. To them. But Kenna? He hadn’t expected just how mad she’d be after so many years. He’d hoped eventually she’d get over him. Move on. Find some other dope to marry and have a litter of babies. It’s why he hadn’t gone back to her. She deserved better than what he could give her.
But she hadn’t moved on. Not if her anger level was any indication. It boggled his mind that she’d held on to it for so long.
And it raised his temperature. Her ire had always been his downfall. That woman had a temper like a great white on steroids, and the ferocity she used to unleash between the sheets had been something he’d never found since.
She was one of kind and had fit him to a T.
Too bad he didn’t fit her.
With his cock stirring in his shorts, he bit back a groan and glanced down at the perspiring bottle in his hand. He was definitely going to need something stronger.
Tyke spun to the bar, flagging down the bartender as his two friends continued to debate whether Kenna would come to the scheduled dinner. It was better if she didn’t. Then they wouldn’t have to keep up pretenses or make the effort to avoid each other. Plus, Tyke didn’t have to worry about staring at her all night, watching the way her hips swayed and her ass clenched as she tried to get as far away from him as possible.
Shots. He definitely needed shots.
The bartender came over and glanced down at Tyke’s beer. “Another, sir?”
He shook his head. “Stronger. Give me something stronger.”
A look of understanding passed between them. “Yes, sir.” He reached behind the bar, pulling out a bottle Tyke recognized all too well. It was the same liquor he’d drank during the time in his life he shall not mention again. Tyke knew firsthand how effective it was at dulling all manner of pain.
An arm slapped across his shoulders. “Hitting the good stuff already, I see.” Luke’s grinning face dropped into his view. “Damn, this chick has you all screwed in the head.”
Tyke tried to shrug him off, but Luke was unperturbed. “Don’t you have a fiancée to please?”
“Every single night,” Calder said. “Sometimes twice.”
Tyke gave him a sidelong look. “That wasn’t an opening for you to wave your tiny dick around. It was a hint for you to leave me the hell alone.”
“Oh, come on, Big Bear,” Ash said on his other side. “What’s the fun in that?”
Tyke twisted to look over his shoulder, anticipating Reese’s attack any second. But the guy was already on the other side of the sand, chatting it up with the blonde. At least somebody was going to have fun this week.
By the time Tyke came back around, the bartender had poured his shot. He’d also poured one for Ash and one for Luke.
The pinheads lifted their short glasses in the air, waiting.
“A toast? Really?” Tyke asked, but reached for his glass. “What exactly are we celebrating? You two idiots going home in chains?”
Neither man took the bait. Both smiled in a secret way that made Tyke’s stomach churn. “Let’s get this over with.”
Once Tyke lifted his glass to match the height of theirs, Ash spoke, “May all of our ups and downs be under the covers.”
“Nice,” Luke said, grinning. “How about: may the girls with itty bitties, let you pet their kitties.”
Tyke snorted.
“What?” Luke asked.
“So fucking stupid,” Tyke said. “That’s the same broke-ass toast you’ve been using since the dawn of time.”
A line formed between Luke’s eyes. “It’s funny.”
“Maybe the first time you used it. It’s lost its juice after the millionth time.”
“Think you can do better?” Luke said. “Let’s hear it.”
“All right, fine. Uh…” Tyke thought for a second. “To the brave overseas. To the girls on their knees. May neither give up, ’til the job is complete.”
“Here, here!” Ash and Luke said.
They were about to drink, but Ash stopped them. “I’ve got one more.” He passed a meaningful look to Luke, then Bryan.
Shit. The touchy-feely stuff. Marriage was making pussies out of his best friends.
“From here on out,” Ash started, “may the worst of our past never impact the best of our future.”
Tyke swallowed whatever had suddenly lodged in his throat. He gave these guys a lot of crap, but he loved them like brothers and would always have their backs.
“Salud.”
They slammed their glasses onto the bar and then lifted them to their mouths to down the liquid in one take. It burned like a bitch, but it was also soothing in a way that only alcohol could be. It eased Tyke’s tension and took the edge off…finally.
“Excuse me,” a voice said through a microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen.”
Casual chatter of those sitting at tables quieted.
Sam and Cass stood on a small stage in matching white dresses, bright pink flowers in their hair, with mics in hand.
“I think that’s our cue,” Ash murmured. He turned to Tyke. “Try to have fun tonight.”
Tyke pushed the empty shot glass forward for the bartender to refill. “What do you think the liquor’s for?”
Ash hitched a thumb in the direction of the tables, and Luke nodded. They both made their way toward their respective brides.
From the stage, the group clamored on, thanking the crowd for coming to the resort to celebrate their weddings and happiness. Blah, blah, blah. When they were done welcoming everyone, they invited their guests to eat dinner. The resort staff called groups by table to stand in line at the buffet.
Bryan faced the bar, leaning over his forearm. He lifted the small glass of refilled amber liquid, twisting it in his hand, watching how the flames from the tiki torches made the contents glow.
Apologize to her. Just man up and do it. Like a Band-Aid, rip the fucker off and endure the sting afterward. It’s not like you don’t deserve the pain.
Yeah, sure. Just come right out and tell her how worthless you are. That no matter how bad you want to, you can’t change. You were too much of a pussy back then to tell her the truth, and you’re still too much of a pussy to do it now.
Because you know if you finally tell her, then you’re really done. Finished. She won’t want your sorry ass anymore.
Which, of course, had been the point. He wrote that email and didn’t come back for that very reason. He’d wanted her to move on. Wanted her to forget him. It was easier that way. Then he could convince himself they’d never been good together. That like other young loves, their relationship had run its course.
Complete bullshit, since their relationship hadn’t been on the same spectrum as other “young love.” It was so much more.
Tyke slammed the full shot down on the bar and scrubbed his face with both hands.
Maybe he’d luck out, and she wouldn’t show tonight. She could’ve already caught the ferry and been back on the mainland. Though he knew that was wishful thinking. Kenna wouldn’t leave her friend and great-aunt.
In the far depths of his mind, he realized he probably looked like a dick, hanging out by the bar all night.
Ah, fuck it. Time to be social.
He took a step, but a flash of red made him stop.
It was coming toward him in a rush.
Kenna.
Damn it. His lower stomach clenched, making that shot on top of beers feel like a really stupid idea.
With single-minded efficiency, she bypassed the people in line waiting to eat.
Her motion was stiff as she made her way across the sand in her bright blue-and-green thigh-length dress and bare feet. Her hair had been pulled half up, letting the rest of her mane flow down her back. It was longer than she used to keep it, now resting past her shoulders. On the shorter side in terms of height, she had curves in all the right places without looking stocky. He’d say the major difference was that she looked more mature. Confident. Her eyes more defined, cheekbones seemed higher, and lips a lot fuller. Or maybe it was the pink gloss she had on. How had he not noticed earlier that her lips were that pouty?
She hadn’t seen him yet, which was good because as soon as she did, her determined expression would turn cold. So he enjoyed looking at her a minute longer.
Seeing her now, all his memories flooded back. It was sweet, blessed torture. He longed to be able to put his hands on those full hips and drive her toward him. To bury himself inside her until neither one of them could utter a single word except, now.
His cock started to come alive again, and he reminded himself that boners were off-limits this week. If the Red Devil saw it, she’d cut it off.
Goddamn, why did she have to be here?