It's in His Kiss (30 page)

“Let me guess. Nathan didn’t like that.”

“It frustrated him. I frustrated him,” she admitted. “He got . . . different. Unhappy.” Mean, she thought. “I left him,” she said. “And it got a little ugly.”

Sam gently tilted her face and looked down at her, his expression quiet, steady. “How ugly?”

She closed her eyes, the memories she’d managed to mostly bury over the years coming back to her. She swallowed hard. “
Ugly
. I refused to give in to pressure and stay with him. But he was a family friend, and our paths continued to cross. A lot. He was big in my parents’ life, in Jase’s life, and he was important to his career as well, so I did my best to keep things as friendly as possible.”

“It’s bullshit that you had to do that.”

She opened her eyes. Sam’s gaze wasn’t his usual calm now. “I don’t know a lot about family,” he said, “but I do know that the loyalty should have gone to you.”

“Yes, but you don’t understand. We were all like family. Nathan’s mom and dad had gone to college with my mom and dad. All of us were tight, real tight—”

“Still bullshit,” Sam said. “Tell me more about the ugly business.”

She stared at his chest. His broad chest. There was a lot of strength in his body, and he’d honed it well, both on and off the water with physical labor. And yet she wasn’t
afraid of that strength because he knew he’d never use it against her. He’d never push her around in anger and try to take what he wanted, especially if it wasn’t what she wanted. He’d never—

“Becca,” Sam said, cupping her face, drawing her attention back to the here and now.

“There were a lot of family gatherings,” she said. “My parents throw a big shindig on Sunday nights, and everyone goes. After I left Nathan, I stopped attending so he wouldn’t have to.”

Sam’s mouth tightened, telling her what he thought of her family allowing
that
to happen, but he didn’t say a word, just waited for her to continue.

“Last year, on my twenty-eighth birthday,” she said, “Mom and Dad and Jase talked me into having a party at their house.”

“Tell me they didn’t invite your ex to your own birthday party.”

“Like I said, he was a family friend, a really good one.”

“Shouldn’t have happened, babe.”

They were the words she hadn’t realized she needed to hear, and she let out a shuddery breath. “Nathan came. He said he wanted to hook up again, but I knew what he really wanted.”

“Which was?”

“Jase had been floundering since the last rehab attempt. He’d been showing up late to gigs, missing some altogether. . .”

Sam dropped his head, swearing softly beneath his breath before looking at her again. “Nathan wanted you to keep Jase in line.”

“Yes.”

“Not your job.”

“But it was. It
was
my job, Sam,” she said when he swore again, not so softly. “That’s been my job my whole life. But Nathan also wanted me to try to play again. He thought that would help.”

“And you couldn’t,” Sam guessed.

“Neither one,” she said. “I tried to explain this to Nathan at the party, but he was drunk.”

Sam went very still. “So you kneed him in the nuts and left him singing soprano on the floor, right?”

She shook her head. “I’d like to say yes, but no, that’s not what happened.”

“What did happen?”

Her breath hitched, but she kept it together. “He didn’t get that we weren’t going to be a thing again. He wasn’t listening, all he was seeing was me standing between him and the success he wanted—” She closed her eyes at the harsh memory, but that was unwise because then she saw it happening again, so she opened her eyes and kept them on Sam. “He said I owed him. He said that if nothing else, I needed to pretend to be together with him in front of Jase so Jase would feel we were all just one big, happy family again. He said he was going to kiss me and I was going to kiss him back.”

“Becca,” he murmured, with far too much understanding.

Again she pressed her face into his neck, and realizing she hadn’t said any of this out loud to anyone except her family. “I said I’d do it, I’d kiss him in front of Jase. I couldn’t do anything else, Sam. I was worried sick about my brother, and feeling all this pressure from my family. I—”

“Babe,” he said, moving his hands up and down her back. “
Not
your fault.” Calm hands, calm voice, royally pissed-off eyes. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked very softly.

Could she? She had no idea, but she gulped in some air and tried. “Jase saw us kissing and toasted us, and then went inside. So I thought it was over. But Nathan pushed me into the pool house, which was really just a storage room for the pool equipment. And he— We—” She broke off and shook her head. Nope. As it turned out, she couldn’t tell him.

Sam’s fingers tightened on her for a beat. Then he let out a long breath and loosened his fingers with what felt like great effort. “He raped you.”

She lifted her face, her mouth open to say it wasn’t rape because she’d known Nathan. Hell, she’d slept with him many times before, but she’d been to counseling and knew the truth. It had been rape.

Sam had kept his hands lightly on her back, stroking up and down. “I don’t hate men,” she said inanely.

Sam’s arms tightened on her in a bear hug as he brushed his mouth to her temple. “For which I’m eternally grateful,” he murmured, voice a little gruff, like he was still fighting his own emotions. “Though I get where your distaste for closed, tight spaces comes from. Where’s Nathan now?”

“I was stupid,” she said into his chest.

“Where is he now?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t sure he understood. “I tried to tell my parents what had happened, but they didn’t really get it. They knew I’d been intimate with him before, so—”

“Are you telling me that they didn’t want you to press charges?” he asked incredulously.

“He was the son of a family friend. His parents—”

“Fuck that,” Sam said harshly.

“I underplayed it, Sam. I did. Jase was so fragile then. If I’d pressed charges and put Nathan in jail, I’d have taken away even more from Jase. I didn’t want to make things worse, and I just kept thinking it was true, I
had
willingly slept with Nathan before, so I could handle this. I’d just stay away.” She closed her eyes, because she knew that she’d been weak and cowardly to go that route and didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. “I just wanted it to go away, Sam. I wanted that so much.”

“Becca, where is that asshole now?”

“He’s dead. Nathan’s dead.”

“You killed him,” he said, his voice and eyes reflecting no judgment at all as he ran his hands up and down her arms.

“No,” she said with a horrified laugh. “I didn’t kill him. A Mack truck did.” She gulped in more air and tried to breathe calmly. Sam’s hands on her helped. “He was out on the freeway on his motorcycle, and he got hit. He died instantly.”

“That’s too bad.” Sam said this almost wistfully, like he’d really have liked the opportunity to kill Nathan himself.

Becca choked out a laugh but it backed up in her throat when Sam slid his fingers into her hair, lifted her face to his, and stared into her eyes. “You’re pretty damn incredible,” he said fiercely.

“Not really,” she said, trying to joke. “Just your average screwup.”

He didn’t smile. He didn’t look away; he just stared into her eyes. “Incredible,” he repeated, softly but with a
fierce intensity that made the knot in her chest loosen for the first time in . . . as long as she could remember.

He took her home, and to bed, where he made slow, sweet love to her. And then not so slow, or sweet. But after, as she drifted off to sleep, she was absolutely sure of two things. One, Sam might indeed think she was incredible, but she thought the same thing about
him
.

And two, she wasn’t just falling for him. She
had
fallen. She’d fallen deep.

The next morning Becca woke up alone. This wasn’t unusual after a night in Sam’s arms. Despite him not being a particularly great morning person, he liked to get up before dawn and run with Ben, or surf.

She showered, her mind whirling with images from the night before. Sam in her bed, his erotic whispers in her ear, the small of his back slick with sweat as he took her right out of herself, over and over again . . .

All really great memories, but she had to shove them from her mind because she had a lot to do at work today, much of it Summer Bash–related. She crossed the alley and headed to the hut.

Normally at this time of morning, the only sounds were the waves hitting the shore with a rhythmic, soothing regularity that had become as familiar to her as breathing. The seagulls usually had something to say as well, and once in a while the guys were out there on the dock or boat, their low, masculine voices carrying over the water.

But this morning she heard a familiar woman’s and man’s voice, and Becca rounded the corner to stare in shock at Sam talking to . . . her parents.

Becca took in the sight of Sam and her parents, clearly in the middle of a very intense conversation, and went still with shock. “Mom? Dad?”

Evelyn and Philip Thorpe whirled around and stared at her.

“What’s going on?” Becca asked. “What are you all doing here?”

“We got your address from Jase,” her mom said, taking in Sam’s move and the way he brushed a kiss to her temple. “But we got lost trying to find your apartment.” She moved forward, arms reaching out, and Becca stepped into her for a hug. Her father pulled her in next, but it felt awkward and stilted. What didn’t feel awkward or stilted was the way Sam slid an arm around her waist afterward, holding her against him.

Surprised at the public display, she looked up into his face. He’d either just gone swimming or surfing or was fresh from a shower because his hair was wet, curling
along his neck. His T-shirt stretched taut across his shoulders. He looked alert and tough as hell, his arm around her saying he was in protective mode.

There was a definite tension in the air, making her wonder what the hell had been said just before she’d arrived.

“Jase had really hoped you’d come to the concert last night,” her mom said.

Becca met her mom’s gaze. “I. . .couldn’t.”

“I know.” Evelyn glanced at Sam. “Or I know better now.”

Sam remained silent, keeping his own counsel as usual. Becca narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn’t respond to that, either, just held her gaze, his own steady and calm. Damn it, he was good. She’d never once been able to beat him in an eye contact contest.

“We rented a car from Seattle,” her mom said. “We wanted to see you before our flight out.” She glanced at Sam again. “Sam was just . . . chatting with us,” she said carefully. “You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend.” Her smile faltered, and her eyes got misty. “I wish you could’ve told us, Becca. I’ve been so worried about you being out here alone, with you saying you didn’t want anyone to visit you, that you needed time. If I’d known you had a boyfriend, I’d have felt so much less worried about you.”

“Mom.” If she said the word
boyfriend
one more time, Becca was going to have a stroke. “Sam’s my boss.”

“
And
your boyfriend,” Evelyn said, turning to Sam for confirmation. “Right?”

Sam gave a single nod, and when Becca stared at him, his eyes smiled. Not his mouth, just his eyes.

She didn’t know exactly what to make of that, but,
definitely feeling a warm fuzzy, she turned to her mom. “I’m sorry you’ve been worried, but I’m fine. And a boyfriend—or not—doesn’t change that.” As she said this, Becca realized that for the first time in a very long time, the automatic
I’m fine
statement was actually true. She
was
fine. In fact, she’d truly never been better. She smiled and caught Sam’s gaze, which touched over her features possessively, and then warmed.

So did her heart.

“Sam said maybe we could get some breakfast at the diner,” her mom said.

“Oh,” Becca said, not sure she wanted to commit to an hour of being grilled about Jase.

“Honey.” Her dad took her hands and squeezed gently. “Please? We have some things to say to you, your mom and I, things we hope you’ll hear.”

Becca stared into his eyes, saw pain and regret, and steeled herself against the wave of guilt. “Okay,” she said. “Breakfast.”

So they went to the diner, an unlikely foursome.

It was early, but the locals were a hardworking bunch, and some were breakfast regulars. Becca found herself being waved at by a few.

“People know you,” her mother said, sounding surprised.

Becca understood the sentiment. Her mother had never lived in a small town, either, and had a healthy respect for privacy. But there was no privacy in Lucky Harbor. As Jax had told her one night, you could leave a pot of gold in your backseat and it wouldn’t get stolen, but you couldn’t keep a secret. “I like it here,” she said, and caught Sam’s eye.

He smiled at her.

She smiled back, knowing that this was going to be okay. Somehow.

“Jase had a fantastic show last night,” her mom said. “He went out with the promoters afterward and stayed up late. He has a second show tonight, or he’d have been here.”