“She works out just fine when you have an emergency at the main house that you need to take care of, doesn’t she? Your babies are perfectly safe, then, and it’s not like Maisie had chemo this week. So if you are hiding out from that utterly delicious man, that’s on you. Don’t you go blaming those precious babies or using them as an excuse. Understand me?”
My cheeks heated. “I’m not hiding out, and he’s not…delicious.”
“Lie.” She pointed her finger at me like I was eight again and sneaking a cookie from the cooling rack.
“Whatever. I’m twenty-five years old, trying to run a growing business, raise twins on my own, and in the middle of…” My hands flailed, motioning to everything on my desk. “…cancer. I don’t have time to go chasing romance. I don’t care how good-looking he is.” Or how massive his arms were. None of that mattered.
“Well, I didn’t say a thing about a romance, did I? Hmmm?” She waltzed out, content with having the last word.
I slumped against my chair, letting my head roll back. It was all too much. The kids. Solitude. The bills. The threat to Maisie’s life. Beckett’s presence threw my carefully constructed system out of whack.
Sure, he was good-looking. And maybe Ryan had trusted him. But that didn’t mean I did. It didn’t mean that I had the capacity to even think about him. Except, well, when I obviously did. But it wasn’t like I thought about him on purpose. He just snuck into my thoughts, invaded really, the same way he’d barged into my life.
I looked at the bulletin board next to my desk. It was bare except for the eight-by-eleven sheet of paper that had one message in big, block letters.
YOU ARE ENOUGH.
Chaos. I missed him with an ache that was almost irrational considering I’d never met him. I didn’t even have a picture to mourn, just his letters, that written voice that had stretched across thousands of miles and somehow reached my soul.
And now he was gone just like everyone else.
And Ryan had sent Beckett. At least, that’s what Beckett had said.
But I’d never actually seen the letter. I should have looked at the letter. That’s what any rational woman would have done when a stranger showed up claiming to have been sent by her dead brother. She checked up on his claim.
I, however, had accepted it at face value. There had been something in his voice, his eyes, that simply felt like truth. But if there was one thing I couldn’t handle, it was a lie. If he was lying in any way, I needed to know now.
Screw it.
I pushed back from the desk and was in the living room before I could give any clear thought to the matter, asking Hailey to listen for the kids. She agreed, her spoon halfway through a pint of ice cream that was consoling her from her most recent flavor-of-the-month breakup.
I grabbed my coat on the way out the back door and was halfway to Beckett’s house before I had the urge to turn and run. What the hell was I doing? Showing up at his house in the middle of the night? Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite the middle of the night, but it was dark, so it qualified.
Using my phone as a flashlight, I walked the shore of the lake, telling myself how stupid this was with each step until I looked up and saw the light on through his windows. Then I started up the path to his front door.
Why couldn’t this wait? Why now? What was I hoping to gain, besides the truth of whether or not Ryan had sent him? Why did it matter now and not two weeks ago when he’d shown up and altered my sense of gravity? Why— Oh. Apparently I’d just knocked on his front door.
I guess that decision was made.
Run away, the immature nineteen-year-old inside me urged. Seemed the romantic part of my development had frozen at the age I’d shoved her into yet another box and slammed the lid home.
You’re not a child, the mature part of me countered.
Before I could get into any more arguments with myself that might land me in the psych ward, the door swung open.
Holy. Shit. He was shirtless.
“Ella?”
And barefoot. Just workout pants.
“Ella, is everything okay?”
What the hell kind of body was that? How did a natural man have so many muscles, all hard and toned and cut in lines that seemed carved for a mouth? My mouth.
Two firm hands clasped my shoulders. “Ella?”
I shook my head, like I could shake the thoughts out, and dragged my eyes from the incredible shape of his torso past his whisker-stubbled neck, to those freaking eyes. I liked green. Green was an awesome color.
Green. Green. Green.
“Everything is fine. Sorry,” I muttered, knowing I sounded like an idiot. “I didn’t expect…” I motioned to his body.
“You thought someone else would be home?”
“No. I just thought maybe you’d have clothes on. Like a normal person.” I forced a shrug, and he let go of my arms.
Then he grinned.
Ugh. He really was incredibly handsome. Annoyingly so.
“My apologies. I will remember to check with you before I work out next time. Come on in. I’ll grab a shirt.” He held open the door so I could slide past him.
And he smelled good while working out? What kind of sorcery was this? Was this guy even a real person? No one looked that good, and smelled that good, and was kind to kids. There was a flaw.
He’s special ops.
Yeah, that was a pretty big flaw. Not that I could even see this guy as a man, in the romantic sense. Like I had time for that crap right now, or even the energy. But I wasn’t stupid, either, and something had flipped in me when I’d seen him with Colt.
Guys with puppies. Guys with kids. Either one was guaranteed to snag my attention, and this guy had both.
“I’ll be right back,” he told me as I stood in the entryway. “Feel free to make yourself at home, since…you know, you own it!” he called as he ran up the stairs.
My steps were tentative as I came farther into the cabin. Everything was just as we rented it; there was no personalization or anything that suggested he’d be here more than a few days, let alone seven months. No dirty dishes in the sink, no books left on end tables, no jackets thrown haphazardly on the backs of chairs.
Havoc came out of the living room, wagging her tail slowly, and I dropped down to see her.
“Hey, girl. Were you asleep? I’m so sorry to wake you up.” I rubbed behind her ears, and she leaned into my touch.
A minute later he was in front of me, a black tee pulled over his chest. Yeah, that didn’t lessen his sex appeal, unfortunately.
“So you do like my Havoc.”
“I never said I didn’t like her. I happen to think she’s pretty great. Her handler, on the other hand…” I shrugged, glancing around the cabin. “You sure you’re staying seven months? Looks like you’re not even here for the weekend.”
Just another sign that this guy wasn’t sticking around.
He grinned, flashing white, even teeth and getting tiny crinkles around his eyes. “What, because I like my cabin neat? Clean? Uncomplicated?”
“Or sterile and impersonal, whatever you’d like to call it,” I teased.
He scoffed. “So, what can I do for you, Ella?” He leaned back against the bar that divided the kitchen from the living room.
“I was hoping that you might show me Ryan’s letter.” The mood in the room changed instantly.
“Oh.” He quickly schooled his expression, but I’d seen the initial surprise. “Yeah, of course. Just wait right here.”
He sprinted up the steps again. I heard a drawer opening and shutting, and within a few heartbeats, Beckett was back.
“Here you go.” He handed over an envelope that had probably once been white but was now smudged with dirt and softened by repeated handling. My fingers trembled as I flipped it over, seeing Beckett’s name scrawled across the front in Ryan’s handwriting.
My thumb brushed over the ink as my throat constricted, a familiar burn tickling my nose. Tears threatened for the first time since his funeral, and I quickly shoved the emotions as far away as possible. I kept them locked up tight, just like the boxes of his things that gathered dust in his old room. I’d eventually clean it out, sort through the things I knew Colt would want, but not yet.
That was on my after-we-get-through-cancer list, which at present was about fourteen miles long.