CHERISH (66 page)

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Authors: Dani Wyatt

Tags: #Cherish

She tugs trying to get her hand out of my grip, but I’m not having it.

“Don’t.” I am losing my patience.

“You don’t get it, do you? Jordan is everything to me.
Everything.

That stings. I understand, but still. I need to be her everything. As much as she is mine.

“I do get it. Just don’t speak to Jeremy without me. He’s not all he appears to be. Just trust my spidey sense on that, okay?” I smile and bring her hand to my lips again, trying to ease the moment.

I see the pain in her face, and I never want to be the one that contributes to it in any way.

“We’ll do this. I’ll help you. I’ve got skills . . . and super powers, remember?”

I glance at her until I see her lips turn upward, and finally a full smile breaks over her face, even if her eyes are not entirely along for the ride.

“This is the most important thing I’ve ever done. I have to win. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him.” The smile is gone as quickly as it came, and she turns to look out the window as we pull into the back parking lot at Windfield.

“I know, babe. And that makes it the most important thing I’ve ever done, too. We’ve got this. Trust me.”

“He’s not a bad guy. I’ve known him since I was little.”

Yeah, I know him too, and he is a very bad guy. But, I can’t tell you that, and I can’t tell you how I know that.

“Okay.” I pull to a stop by the back door and take a deep breath. “I want to know everything about how you can get your brother. You deserve to have him.”

“How do you know that? I mean, honestly. Maybe I’m
not
a good person. Maybe a lot of things. You don’t know much about me.”

“I know enough. I need to know more, but I sure as shit know that you’re a good person. You need him, and I’m here to help you. So, quit pushing me away. I can feel you doing it. So stop. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

I pull her hand, then work my other arm around her shoulders, pulling her over toward me. Leaning into her, I bring her forehead to rest against mine so she can’t avoid my eyes.

Her breath moves against my face as she starts to speak. “I just have been struggling for so long. I’m so tired.” I can feel her honesty instead of fear.

“I know. I’m so sorry.”

In a heartbeat, I realize what I will always be for her.
Selfless.
I will always put what is best for her ahead of anything else.

She has to know everything I do puts her first. Her needs before mine. Her pleasure before mine. Her life before mine.

“I better go.” The weight of her words breaks my heart.

“Come here.” I’ve got my lips on hers, and I feel her soften as I taste her, and the warmth of her mouth has my cock back in the game, ready to go to bat. “Just one thing. One thing I ask, one non-negotiable rule, okay? Just don’t lie to me. Anything else we can fix and move on. Just don’t lie. Okay? I’ll pick you up at three.”

She looks at me like there is something left unsaid, but I know she’s almost late for her shift, so I decide to let it go. I jump out and make it around to her side and open her door.

“You need me for anything, you just call, got it?”

“Okay. See you.” She gives me a quick peck on the cheek before walking away.

As I watch her disappear behind the steel door at the back of the building, a tightness forms in my gut. My sixth sense is prickling, but I shake it off. So much has happened in the last few days. I’m off my game.

Before I can pull out of the parking lot, my phone is going off. Promise is texting me.

PROMISE: Hey, I forgot. I’m going to cover for someone after my shift. No need to pick me up, I’ve got a ride home. I know your friends are coming into town, so I will see you tomorrow at the service. Have fun tonight.

The fuck?
There’s a new pounding in my chest. She’s been out of my sight for all of two and a half minutes, and I’m already about to stomp my ass back inside that door and drag her out by her hair.

Fucking caveman.

I take a deep breath and try to channel some reason.

ME: Okay, babe. Text me when you leave work and when you get home. Let me know if you need anything. I mean it. ANYTHING.

As much as I’m looking forward to seeing my SEAL brothers, I can’t help but admit that if she gives me the word, I’ll drop them if she waves me in.

I’m her bitch.

Beckett

The Fire Marshall’s investigation came up with something other than a problem with the building’s electrical system. The oven in the attached loft apartment is where the fire originated. They’re still poking around, but what’s done is done. The separate gas line that ran to the apartment is off. We’ve double, and triple checked the other one that runs to the loft.

The guess is that Dad turned the oven on and fell asleep. Only, the stove was brand new, and inside the oven, all the manuals were laying on the wire shelf. They say the temperature was set on 450, high enough to ignite the paper inside. The carbon monoxide leak was from a value under the windows that was attached to a separate heating unit. They think Dad may have hit it with his foot or something because it was wide open.

I say goodbye to a small wooden box inside the funeral home. Eight people came to the service. Eight. Dad’s parents died when he was young. I don’t know that he had any other family, no brothers or sisters, I know that. But still, the lack of family here today is sad.

I don’t know if my mom’s parents are still alive. I never met them. From what I know, they lived in Shaker Heights, and when they found out Mom was pregnant with me at eighteen, they cut her off and that was the last time she saw them. Dad married her the next week.

Today was the end of something, but I’m not sure exactly what.

I am good at walling shit off. Keeping it down. You would never know I just lost my dad. I haven’t cried. The last few days, I did everything I could to avoid thinking about it.

I guess I can be a cold-hearted son of a bitch. All I’ve wanted to do is spend every fucking second with her and not think about this. Avoiding the pain doesn’t make it go away, but old habits die hard.

But, there’s pain here today, and I just feel flat. I should feel more, but I don’t, and that makes it worse.

My SEAL brothers are here, and that is a distraction but also a reminder.

I look up, and Dex catches my eye. I make my way back over to where the four remaining members of our team are huddled by the doorway, out of the room where the service was held.

“I’m sorry, man.” Dex flew in from California. He and I went through hell week together, and it seems the hell hasn’t stopped since.

He sets a comforting hand on my shoulder with a squeeze.

“Thanks.”

“You okay, man? You want us to stick around?” Dex looks up at Leroy and Brendan, my other brothers who look at me with a soft nod.

“No, I’m good. There’s really nothing to do. He didn’t have anything. I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do, though. About coming back.”

“Take your time, you don’t need to decide now. Pipes isn’t coming back. Brendan—” Dex nods at Brendan, giving him an opening.

“I’m done, man.” Brendan looks defeated. “I already lost Jenny for good. I can’t lose my kids. If I want any fucking life, I have to be around for them. I’m not going back.” He lets out a heavy breath, his hands set deep in his suit pockets.

It’s no secret, the statistics on staying married when you’re a SEAL are pretty dismal. It isn’t a life many partners can tolerate. Everything and everybody comes after your duty and commitment to your brothers. To the mission, whatever that may be.

We all start to walk back toward the foyer and end up huddled around the wooden bookstand that holds the guest book. I shake my head that I thought I needed a guest book.

Taking each breath feels like a battle. The guys that saved my ass more times than I can count are here for me, but my head isn’t.

“Hey, can you guys hold on a sec?” I can’t wait any longer.

They nod, and I see Dex look at his watch. He has a flight back to California in a few hours.

They’d all come in town yesterday, and it was good to have the distraction. We all stayed at the loft. But, to be honest, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“I think we’re going to head out, man. If you’re cool,” Brendan says. “We’re going to share a cab.”

We do our man-pats and say our goodbyes, and the four men I consider my family are out the door and on their way. I twist my neck a couple of times and catch myself thinking about how quickly I can get her out of here with me.

If it hadn’t been for her, I’d have probably fallen into the darkness more than I have.

She’s hovering in the back of the room, chatting up Louis, who knows I don't want her leaving before I can get to her.

Louis always has my back. Has since I was ten and they sat me in the chair in his office, spitting nails, and I learned what a court-appointed liaison was. I don’t deserve him. I’ve let him down more times than I can count, and he has never wavered. Never gave me a hint that he would leave.

She’s got her hair twisted up off her face, which only ignites the look of girlish wonder about her. She’s wearing some crazy sexy peach colored wrap dress, with these little canvas shoes that have little cherries embroidered on them. She’s a little girl wrapped in a pin-up woman, and the mixture is almost more than I can stand.

I want to teach her what it means to be kissed like she should be kissed. With lips and tongue on the softest parts of her neck and behind her ear until she forgets to take her next breath. I see her sidelong glances toward me, shifting her weight back and forth while Louis talks her ear off.

I can still feel her wrapped around me even from across the room. Louis says something that makes her smile, and it lights up my heart. Seeing her happy is the greatest gift she can give me. Her smile—my new reason for waking up every day.

And to never have to wipe away more tears.

She’d cried more when I told her about Dad than I did.

Wait, I didn’t cry at all.

And, I wasn’t sure which hurt worse, watching her cry or silently grieving for him myself . . . for what I’d missed with him, for what could have been.

She’d wanted something more for us. It had been right there if only I’d gotten my ass home fifteen minutes sooner. What could have been? What could have been fixed?

But now, I’ve got other wars waging. She’s more a part of me that even my own father ever was.

“Hey.” I pull her into me, the feeling of comforting her, comforts me.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on her.” I slap Louis on the shoulder.

“Sure thing.” He’s staring away from us, his voice flat and lifeless.

I glance from Promise to my best friend. She looks relaxed. Louis looks like he’s in distress. He clears his throat and won’t meet my eye.

“Okay, man. I should go. Work is calling.” Louis pulls his phone out, but I detect an unusual discomfort in his voice.

“It was nice to meet you.” Promise holds her hand out, and Louis holds onto it a few seconds longer than necessary.

“You, too.” He doesn’t look at her, and his words are clipped. In all the years I’ve known him, all the situations I’ve been in with him, he’s always been on the verge of a smile. I can’t remember ever seeing him upset, but I think he is right now.

He spins on his heel and lays his hand on my shoulder before heading toward the door, eyes down without another word.

His hasty exit leaves me perplexed, but my little ivory princess has my cock twitching even as I realize how inappropriate it is to be getting a hard-on at my own father’s funeral.

“What were you guys talking about?” I draw in a breath right next to her ear, and she shrugs her shoulder up toward my mouth. I want to smell her forever, her softness and gentle nature match the sweet scent of whatever perfume she’s wearing.

She lets me into her neck when she loosens her shoulder back down, and I put my lips just under the corner of her jaw so I can feel her heartbeat.

“Not much. He was asking me where I was from. I asked what he did. He was telling me about his security company, then something about a bar, and then you walked up. That’s about it. He seems like a very nice man.” I see nothing but genuine kindness in her eyes.

Whatever was going on with Louis, she is clueless.

“He’s the best.”

I lean my head back away because I want to look at more of her, and I wonder again if she can handle everything I want from her and everything I will need to give her . . .

Do
with her.

To
her.

She crinkles her nose a little under my stare. I wish she could look through my eyes, even for a moment, and see the beauty I do.

Maybe it’s losing my dad. Maybe it’s seeing the guys again and remembering some of us ended up in a room like this way before our time.

I’m overwhelmed with the need to tell her what I’m feeling.

“How many days have we spent time together?”

She raises her head from my chest and gives me a quizzical look.

“Ummmm . . . five? Six?” She fidgets with a loose thread on the front of her dress. She always seems to want to pull on little things like that. A nervous habit when she doesn’t know what else to do with her hands.

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