She’d always be there for Catie. Just as she would be for Harlow.
But her siblings couldn’t fill the hole in ísa formed during her own childhood. They were children. What ísa needed desperately was a deeply adult thing—for the man she loved to not constantly push her aside for more important matters. She needed him to see her on the most primal level.
She needed him not to forget her.
This isn’t love, she thought, comforting herself. You’re just confused because of the orgasms.
ísa had to believe that; it was the only way she could risk continuing this relationship. Because sooner or later, Sailor Bishop would come to a crossroads and have to make a choice: go all in on his business dreams or live a life with a little more balance, a life that included time to love a woman, time to build a family.
Having seen his drive and ambition, ísa had no illusions about the choice he’d make.
I’m married to my business. She’s also my very demanding mistress. Doesn’t tolerate other women for long periods.
When that time came, ísa had to be ready to walk away. She couldn’t risk being tied to him by love while her soul shriveled with loneliness. Throat thick, she whispered, “Please don’t break my heart, Sailor” while knowing that to be an inevitability.
* * *
THEY HAD AN EARLY BREAKFAST the next morning. Despite the late night, Sailor had woken at five, as was his habit. Usually he made time to go out for a run. You’d think with such a physical job, he’d have given up the running, but he liked that early-morning stretch. Today, however, he had nothing to run in even if he’d wanted to leave the bed.
ísa woke when he stirred, and he nuzzled a kiss into her neck. She’d been an easy sleeping companion, no wiggling around from Miss ísa Rain; she’d stayed nicely tucked up against him all night long.
“You’re very cuddly,” he told her with another kiss.
The tips of her ears went red again. “I’ve always had big hips.”
Sailor wanted to scratch his head. What the hell had he said about hips?
Deciding to leave that one alone, he snuggled her soft curviness even closer. “So,” he said, “what should we do today?”
ísa turned so that she was on her back. “Let’s see how Catie is this morning.” Concern darkened her eyes. “I know she was very gung ho about us leaving this morning when we spoke to her last night, but she might feel differently if she wakes stiff and sore.”
Sailor nodded. He couldn’t imagine his younger brothers being without support should they be hurt and scared.
“If she does want me to stay,” ísa said, “then I want you to go back to Auckland.”
Frowning, he said, “I won’t be going anywhere as long as you need help.” The idea of abandoning his redhead didn’t sit right with him.
A wary vulnerability in her expression before she pressed her fingers against his lips. “Thank you,” she said with a smile so deep that he felt as if he’d watched dawn break right here in this tumbled bed, “but I know you need to get back to work. You’re on a very tight deadline for Fast Organic. Plus there’s nothing here I can’t handle.”
He nipped at her fingers, annoyed with her for making sense. “How will you get back home?”
“I can easily hire a car.” Pausing, she snapped her fingers. “No, I’ll borrow Clive’s car. It’s just sitting in the garage anyway. And he always flies back into Auckland; he can pick it up.”
“Yeah,” Sailor grumbled. “I suppose that works.”
Cupping his face, ísa kissed him with wild affection. “Thank you for caring.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s like thanking me for breathing.” She was his; of course he’d care for her and those who were important to her. “Since we’re both up, how about we go rustle up some breakfast?”
His stomach growled on cue.
ísa laughed. “Early bird?”
Deciding she was much, much better than an alarm, Sailor stroked the warm curve of her thigh as he spoke. “Always have been. I used to help my mom prepare lunch for Gabe and me when we were at school. After Jake and Danny came along, I used to help her with theirs too.” It had been a special time between him and his mom before the rest of the household was awake.
Sailor still did the same the odd night he stayed over at his parents’ after watching a late game on their big-screen TV.
Waking, he would stumble down into the kitchen to find his mother brewing him a cup of coffee, she was so certain he’d show. These days he usually made her sit down and took over the task of cooking their traditional postgame breakfast.
Alison Esera had worked more than enough for one lifetime.
Jake and Danny, they hadn’t seen the hard times that Sailor and Gabe had, and so sometimes they gave Alison a little more back talk than their older brothers. Not much, and it was never disrespectful—they hadn’t been brought up that way, not with Joseph for a father and Gabe and Sailor for older brothers—but it was a type of childhood rebellion their mother had never seen in her older sons.
It made her happy to know her younger sons were growing up in the light—but she still worried about the damage done to Sailor and Gabriel during the early part of their lives. Sometimes he’d catch her watching him with gray eyes awash in concern and love and hope, and he’d enfold her in his arms, safe against the scars of the past.
ísa’s fingers across his jaw, her gaze searching. “Where did you go?” she asked softly, having turned to face him while he’d been lost in thought.
Used to keeping his secrets from the women who shared his bed, Sailor went to shake his head and change the direction of the conversation… and realized two things.
One, ísa was far more than a bedmate. She was his redhead.
And Sailor was a stubborn, possessive bastard under the surface.
Also, two, he wanted her to know who he was, wanted her to understand that he was far older than his chronological age. “I was thinking about early mornings helping my mom cook,” he admitted. “They’re some of my favorite childhood memories.”
Face lighting up, ísa said, “Oh? How old were you when you started?” So much hunger in her, so much sheer need.
25
Bad Friends and Greasy Hair
HER PARENTS, HE THOUGHT FURIOUSLY, had abandoned her without ever actually discarding her. “I can’t remember,” he said through a raw wave of protectiveness, tugging her even closer to his body so he could cuddle her more. “Mom likes to say I never learned to sleep past five in the morning.”
“It sounds like a happy childhood.”
“It was.” He’d been too young to understand as much as Gabriel, had known only that he was safe and warm and loved.