It's in His Kiss (33 page)

“You heard me.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Jase said with a shake of his head. “I need to talk to my sister.”

“Yeah? You ever think about what
she
needs?”

Jase blinked. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s me telling you one last time to leave,” Sam said. “
Now
.”

Jase shoved his hands in his pockets. “Listen, I don’t know what she’s told you about me, but we’re cool, her and I, so—”

Sam grabbed him by the collar. “Are you? Cool?”

“Yeah. I mean. . .” Jase closed his eyes and shook his
head. “Okay, so we’re not cool, but it’s not what you think.”

“You know what I think?” Sam tightened his grip on Jase to make sure he had his full attention. “I think you let her take care of
you
all your life, and then when she needed the favor returned one time, you failed her. You let her get hurt. You let her feel guilty for being raped.” Christ, he wanted to squeeze until Jase stopped breathing. And indeed, Jase choked and brought his hands up, but Sam was beyond giving a shit. He heard Cole and Tanner calling his name, felt them trying to pull him off Jase, but he held on.

Until he heard her voice. Becca’s.

“Sam! Sam, let go!”

Shocked, Becca clutched at Sam’s cement biceps. “Please, Sam,” she said, heart in her throat, but as if
please
had been the magic word, Sam did indeed let go.

Jase slid to the ground, gasping for air. Letting out her own tense breath, Becca dropped to her knees at her brother’s side, running her gaze over him. Realizing he was indeed mostly in one piece, she tilted her head to Sam’s. “What the hell?”

Eyes shuttered now, Sam took a step backward and said nothing.

Becca shook her head and turned back to Jase. “What are you doing here?”

Still holding his throat, Jase slid a cautious look up at Sam.

Becca couldn’t blame him. Sam had backed up, but he still had a feral look of fury in his eyes. He was breathing steadily, calm even, but his hands were in fists. On either
side of him stood Cole and Tanner. Probably to back up Sam, but maybe also to keep him from killing Jase. Hard to tell.

“I was trying to see you,” Jase said, “but then I was assaulted.”

Tanner made a sound from deep in his throat that should have been a warning, but Jase had never been good at warnings.

“I mean, Jesus,” he went on. “I didn’t do shit; he just came after me.”

This time the growl came from Cole. Clearly, neither he nor Tanner had any idea what this was about, but it didn’t matter. Brothers of the heart, they stood united with Sam. “Jase,” she said softly. “This isn’t the time or place. I’m at
work
. Go home.”

“I. . .can’t.”

She stared into his eyes, saw shame and guilt, and felt her heart clutch. “Why, Jase?” Oh, God. “What have you done?”

“I. . .need your help.” He clutched at her hands and held her gaze in his own red-rimmed one. “This one last time, Becca.
Please
.”

At his words, the years fell away. She could see him at age five to her seven, needing her to chase away his night terrors after he’d been bullied at school. At age twelve needing her to hide him after he’d stupidly shoplifted a metronome from the music store. Then over a decade later, coming out of rehab and still looking broken. And she felt herself waver. “Jase—”

“Just this one last time,” he promised in a broken whisper.

She pulled her key from her pocket. “Go to my place. I’ll be off in a few hours. Wait there.”

He took the key.

“Jase,” she said. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he said woodenly.

She rose and watched him do the same. He straightened his shirt, gave her three bosses a very wide berth, and left.

She let out a breath and turned to the small crowd gathered. “Show’s over,” she said briskly. “We’ve got a sale on water equipment for the next hour only, twenty-five percent off. Who wants to snorkel or kayak? Line up, first come, first served.”

A murmur rose from the crowd. Lucky Harbor was filled with good people, but they were also hardworking and loved a bargain.

“Does the snorkel gear come with a hottie instructor?”

This came from Lucille. She had her hand raised, her gaze on Tanner. “Because I wouldn’t mind getting . . . instructed,” she said.

Tanner winced but everyone else laughed, dispelling the tense atmosphere.

Satisfied that things would go back to normal, or as normal as it got around here, Becca started back around to the front of the hut.

“Becca.”

The softly spoken single word was from Sam. She considered ignoring him, but the problem with that was she’d never been able to ignore Sam. Not when he’d been her Sexy Grumpy Surfer, not when he’d become her boss, and certainly not now that he’d become so very much more. She was going to have to do something about that, and she knew it. It was one thing to put herself out there and fall in love with someone. It was another entirely to
be the only one of the two of them putting herself out there. “I’ve got work,” she said.

And then she got to it.

Becca sat in the reception room of the “recovery” center in Seattle and watched her brother walk away from her toward the nurse who’d just called his name.

She’d gone home after work and found Jase pacing, looking more than a little crazed, and in desperate need of a fix.

“I fucked up,” he said straight off. “I stole Janet’s Vicodin.”

She blinked. “Who’s Janet?”

“Someone I met after last night’s concert.”

Becca just stared at him. “Are you crazy?”

“Yes, apparently. She could’ve called the cops on me, but she didn’t. Jesus, Becca.” He shoved his fingers into his hair and looked at her wild-eyed. “I
stole
from her. I sneaked out of her bed and into her purse and I took her pain pills.” He dropped his hands to his sides, leaving his hair standing on end. “I’m a fucking thief now?” he whispered.

“Actually, you’ve been a thief for a while,” she said, desperate to lighten his mood. “Remember when you stole makeup from the department store at the mall? They called Mom and Dad, and you gave them the story that you were thinking of becoming a drag queen. Which,” she went on, “was bullshit. You’d just already spent your allowance on pot, and wanted the makeup for your girlfriend.”

He stared at her, then scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a half laugh, half groan. “Christ, Becca. I’m
trying to be dramatic here and have a moment, and you’re making light of it all.”

She’d opened her laptop then, and they’d looked up rehab centers together. Jase had settled on one in Seattle. And now, there in the Seattle waiting room watching him go, her eyes filled. “I love you, Jase,” she said. “Be safe.”

He was too thin, very pale, and maybe a little bit terrified to boot, but there was one thing Jase had known since birth, and that was how to put on a show. He smiled and blew her a kiss.

She rubbed her aching chest but smiled, keeping up the brave pretense until he’d vanished behind the door of the thirty-day rehab center.

Besides her, Olivia grabbed her hand. “He’ll be okay.”

“He will,” Becca said, because she wanted to believe it.

“No, I mean really,” Olivia said. “He had a really determined look.”

Becca decided to put her faith into that being true. She squeezed Olivia’s hand in return and, for the second time in her life, walked away from Jase.

Halfway back to Lucky Harbor, Olivia said casually, “You going to tell me why you’re over there crying while pretending not to cry?”

Becca sniffed. “It’s smoggy. My eyes are burning.”

Olivia looked out at the clear blue sky and raised an eyebrow at Becca.

“Okay, well, then I have allergies.”

“To what?” Olivia wanted to know.

“Your nosiness.”

Olivia laughed. “That I could almost buy.” She glanced over at Becca. “I’d bet my last dollar that you’re not crying
about Jase anymore. That you’ve moved on to crying about something else. Someone else. Sam.”

Becca stared out the window. “Don’t ever bet your last dollar.”

“What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything.” Which was the problem. “I just thought I knew him, but as it turns out, I didn’t.”

“Yes you do,” Olivia said. “Guys are simple. There’s only three things you need to see a guy deal with to know exactly who he is.”

“Like?”

“One, slow Internet.”

Becca thought back to her first day on the job when she’d first discovered the slow Internet in the hut. Sam hadn’t lost his collective shit as her old boss would have. Nope, he’d simply gotten around the problem by writing things down on napkins, pieces of wood, whatever was handy. Not patiently, exactly, because Sam had a lot of great qualities, and patience wasn’t one of them. But he had a depthless reservoir of steady calm. After the craziness of her family and her life, that never failed to bring
her
to a steady calm.

Well, until very recently.

“Two,” Olivia said, “untangling Christmas tree lights.”

She remembered the tangled strings of white lights she’d found, the ones Sam had replaced, and smiled despite herself.

“What?” Olivia asked.

“I had a bag of tangled dock lights, and Sam handled the situation.” She shook her head. “By buying new ones.”

Olivia laughed out loud. “Honey, that man’s a keeper.”

Well, she’d tried to keep him. . .“That’s only two out of three things you need to see a guy deal with,” she said. “What’s the third?”

Olivia slid her a look. “How he deals with overwrought female theatrics.”

Oh, boy. Becca had seen this, too, the night she’d heard a noise outside her door and gone into a full-blown panic attack. Sam hadn’t thought her ridiculous or made her feel stupid. He’d been too far away for his own comfort and had sent Cole to stand in for him until he could arrive. And then there’d been the unexpected visit from her parents. Whatever she’d faced, Sam had been there for her.

Two hours later, Becca came home and found a stack of boxes waiting for her. An assortment of brand-new instruments for the kids, including a horn, a percussion set, and a bass.

For your new music program
, the card read. Nothing else, no name, no address, nothing.

An anonymous donation.

But there was nothing anonymous about how she felt. Overwhelmed. Cared for.

Loved.

And as she sat there, surrounded by the boxes of brand-new instruments, she realized something. She didn’t need a card. She knew exactly who the instruments were from. Damn, stubborn, stupid, wonderful man.

On the morning of their Summer Bash, Sam got up extra early, knowing the day would be crazy. He was an hour earlier than usual, but he wasn’t the only one. Standing in front of his warehouse door, waiting for entry, were both Amelia and Mark.

They’d squared off and were glaring at each other, Amelia with her arms crossed over her chest, Mark looking guilty as hell.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“Just making sure you don’t need anything today, honey,” Amelia said, tearing her hard gaze from Mark and moving toward Sam to hug and kiss him. “Summer Bash has taken over town,” she said, “and everyone’s so excited. I thought I’d come offer to help.”

“Me too,” Mark said.

Amelia snorted.

Mark frowned at her. “What the hell was that?”

“Dad,” Sam said.

“No, I mean it,” Mark said, staring at Amelia. “You got something to say?”

“I sure do,” Amelia said. “I came here to give whatever I could. Time. Encouraging words. Whatever it takes. And you—”

“I what?” Mark asked, eyes narrowed.

“Coffee,” Sam said. “Clearly, we need coffee.”

“You think I didn’t come to help,” Mark said to Amelia. “You think I came to take.”

“Isn’t that your MO?” Amelia said.

“Breakfast even,” Sam tried. “From the diner—”

“Shut up, Sam,” Mark said. “The lady’s got something to say.”

“Don’t you tell him to shut up,” Amelia said.

Sam moved to step between them but Mark pointed at Amelia. “No, son, I want to hear what she thinks of me.”

“You know what I think of you,” Amelia said. “I—”

“Caffeine,” Sam said. “The hut’s got—”

“Sam, baby,” Amelia said, eyes sharp on his father, “shut up.”

Sam opened his mouth, but Mark pointed at him. “Do what she says, son.”

Christ. Sam rubbed a hand over his jaw and wondered if this is how Cole and Tanner felt dealing with his grumpy ass in the mornings. “You know, usually I’m the one snarling at people before sunrise,” he said.

This didn’t lighten the tension.

“Maybe things change,” Mark said to Amelia. “Maybe people change.”

The words hit Sam. They were close to what Becca had said to him. He stared at his father. “What did you just say?”

“Maybe it’s not just my liver I’m working on healing,” Mark said, but he was speaking directly to Amelia. “I know what I’ve got here, Am. You’ve got to trust me on that. He’s given me everything. I know it, but I’m trying to give back now. Trying to be what he needs.”

Wait a minute. “I don’t need anything,” Sam said.