First and Only (Callaghan Brothers #2)

“You worry too much.” It was worse, but he didn’t need to know that.

“What happened at the Pub, Lex?”

“Taryn didn’t tell you?”

Kieran shook his head. “No. She just said you weren’t feeling well and came back to the hotel to lay down for a while. But I knew better.” His tone was so serious, his expression so earnest. She knew he was thinking about all the times she’d needed his help when they were younger. Honestly, she didn’t know what she would have done without him. He pointed to the wrap around her hand. “Come on, let’s see.”

“It’s nothing. A little cut, that’s all.”

“Damn it, Lex. A little cut can kill you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she snapped, her voice rising. “Don’t you think I live with that little knowledge every fucking day of my life? I know what I am.”

At her uncharacteristic use of vulgar language, Kieran stopped dead in his tracks. He swept his hand through his hair, messing it up and reminding her of the awkward fourteen year-old he had once been. The worry, the pain in his eyes was killing her. “Damn it, Lex. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, but couldn’t help the tears that fell. She was becoming such a cry baby.

“Ah, hell, don’t cry,” he said, going to his knees in front of her. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m alright,” she sniffled, trying to wave him away. “It’s just been a tough couple of days.”

Kieran ignored her protest and pulled her into his arms anyway. “God, you’re such a brute,” she mumbled into his chest. “Let me go.”

“Make me,” he said softly, holding her head to his chest and rocking. She didn’t bother. He was twice her size, twice her weight, and she had the feeling he needed this even more than she did.

“Kieran.” Her voice was soft, compelling. The kind of voice that calmed him almost instantly. The one that had stayed his anger more times in school than she could count. If not for her, he probably would have been expelled more than once. Everyone always assumed that he had been the one looking out for her, but it had worked both ways. If she hadn’t encouraged him to pursue martial arts, to learn the skill and discipline he needed, who knows what kind of trouble his explosive temper might have gotten him into.

He sat on the bed so she could reach his head, a silent permission for her to stroke his hair next. She did. He leaned into it and closed his eyes.

“I’m a grown woman.”

“So? That means I have to stop caring about you?”

“No, of course not. But you can’t protect me anymore.”

He sighed. “Maybe not all the time. But right here? Right now? Yes, I can.”

Lexi had been so caught up in her own problems she forgot that she wasn’t the only one who would be leaving soon. Kieran, like each of his brothers before him, had enlisted right after high-school with the dream of becoming a Navy SEAL. That was a minimum six-year commitment, she knew, since it was all he ever talked about. It was a gift of fate that he had not been actively deployed when her father passed away, so that he could be here with her now.

A few moments passed in silence before she asked, “How much time do you have left?”

“Not much. A year and a half, two years, tops. One more round of training, one more deployment.”

“Then what?”

He gave her a crooked grin. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

“Hmmm. I think I’ve heard that before. Do all of you have that stitched on your pillows or something?”

“Yep. And you know what’s on the flip side? Take care of your own.”

“I’m not one of you, Kier.”

“Bullshit. And as long as you are in Pine Ridge, you are just going to have to deal with that.”

Lexi knew he believed that. But he would have to face the truth sooner or later.

“Well then we won’t have a problem much longer.”

Kieran looked at her then. He blinked once. Twice. “You’re leaving?”

She walked away, toward the window. Outside it was still light, though the sun was well below the buildings. Cloud cover made it a little darker than it would normally be at this time of day. A storm was brewing, and down below, she could see the streetlights just starting to come to life, people walking on the sidewalks. Some were alone. Some were holding hands or walking their dogs. So much normalcy. And here she was, always looking on from a distance. Always separate. Always apart. Never belonging.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

She let him mull that over for a few moments. “I thought you’d stick around a little longer at least. What about your grandmother’s house?”

“I don’t belong here.”