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Authors: Elizabeth Moore

BOOK: Just That Easy
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The weight of his situation bore down on him like his
fatigue. “She doesn’t know. Who I am, I mean. I didn’t tell her my real last
name.”

He heard Jack suck in a quick breath. “Oh. Well that could
be kind of a mess.”

“Yeah. I know.”

His brother turned his head, he could feel his eyes on him.
“You going to tell her?”

“Not much of a choice, is there?”

“Well, not if you plan on staying with her.” Jack shrugged.

He turned to face his brother. “Jack, I have to ask you, you
know me as well as anybody. How bad was I?”

Jack contemplated the question for a long time. He chewed
his lip thoughtfully before finally answering. “Bad. The problem I have telling
in telling you is that who you were to the world was never who you were to me
and Tate. I excused it, ignored it. Hell, you’re my brother and I love you. I’m
sure as hell no saint, none of us are. But, would I have wanted to be, say,
your business partner? Or maybe your secretary, or even the stable boy at home?
Hell no, you were always an asshole to everyone, all the time, except for me
and Tate. You always took care of us, you were the father he wasn’t. For
everyone else, uh, yeah. You could be a cruel bastard much as I hate to say
that. Used to amaze me, you’d go say the worst piece of shit to some woman and
she’d about be creaming herself to fuck you after you basically called her a
worthless bitch-cunt because she was going to do just that.”

He cringed inwardly, rubbing his chin with his hand. It was
true, all of it. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded sadly, then clapped his hand on Grant’s
thigh. “You know for a while, I was a little worried all that responsibility
might crush you, make you believe the shit he told you and you’d end up like
him. I’m glad you walked, Grant. You saved your own ass and that’s the only way
it could have happened. I like you better this way. A lot better.”

“I think I do too.”

Jack gave him a playful punch to the shoulder before
standing to stretch. “All right, lover boy, so now what?”

“Well, once his ass is out of here, I am going the hell
home.” He grinned. “I just said home, and I didn’t mean where I grew up. That
kind of feels good. Anyway, it’s going to be like two days since I left once
this is done. I’m hoping I didn’t just wreck everything running out on her with
no explanation.”

“Uh-huh. You considered not telling her who you are might
cause a little damage too?”

“Yeah, it terrifies me, but it’s too late now. All I can do
is hope that whatever she feels, it will outweigh how pissed she’ll be when I
tell her.”

“I’ll be pulling for you. Hope it works out.”

“What about you?”

Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled, a real one.
His life in California agreed with him it seemed. “I’m going to head back east
for about as long as it takes to do some business, and the second it’s done,
I’m back to Cali.”

“Where’s Mom, by the way, not that it matters.”

Another sore subject. Their mother’s existence in their life
was, and always had been, a travel itinerary. When they were older and assumed
responsibility for the company, a lengthy list of monthly bills for shopping,
hotels, expenses.

“Europe, somewhere. Who the hell knows. Or cares.”

He saw the sadness on Jack’s face for just an instant and
knew it well. He stood and clapped him on the back. “What a fucked-up family we
have. At least we have each other, you, me and Tate. I haven’t had a chance to
tell you, Jack, how much I appreciate you taking over the financial end of
things since I walked.”

“I actually kind of like it, Grant. No thanks necessary. One
of these days we’ll find a job to shove Tate into instead of racing every
goddamn thing that can move.”

“Yeah.” Grant chuckled. “He’s going to do the race in New
Zealand with me and Nolo, he tell you?”

“Yeah, crazy fuckers.” Jack shook his head.

“Uh-huh…says the guy who cliff dives, surfs the biggest
waves I’ve ever seen, and would jump out of a plane without the damn parachute
if he could figure out how.”

Jack absentmindedly looked at his right biceps, and Grant
had the same thought. Rubbing his own, he couldn’t even feel the ridges on his
skin anymore from the invisible tattoo he shared with his brothers, and only
two other humans on the planet, Nolo and Logan Cross. A pact they’d all made
one year, a particularly bad year for them all. The five of them survived by
doing what they all knew kept them sane, anything that involved adrenaline,
risk and pushing themselves to the limits. “Yep, we’re nuts.”

* * * * *

He could barely rush through the shower fast enough. He knew
he couldn’t face her without at least cleaning up and putting on fresh clothes.
He had the smell of the jail on him, of the scum his father had become. No
amount of scrubbing would remove the fear that he had become too much like the
man he despised, that the same blood, the same shitty tendencies were already a
part of him. His urge had been to just throw himself on her doorstep, hope like
hell she didn’t slam the door in his face. Even though she’d left him messages,
he wasn’t going to feel relieved until he saw her, had his arms wrapped around
her. Not bothering to do anything but towel dry his hair and throw on the first
thing his hand came in contact with, he was out the door and on the way to her
in less than five minutes.

Chapter Sixteen

 

That sound she’d been waiting for, straining in the middle
of the night to hear through the dark, finally came through the open kitchen
window. The relief that flooded her when his car tires crunched on the driveway
gravel made her rush for the door. Her composure, revealing her worry, was the
last thing in her mind.

The anxiety had completely replaced the anger she’d felt
just hours before he left. Anger that had nearly pushed her to call a halt to
all of this. Then he’d left and she been sitting alone for two days with her feelings
staring her in the face. Even after her cryptic talk with Al she couldn’t quiet
it.

Hello, Teryn, this is your heart calling. You want him
here, you can’t stand the thought he will leave before you get the chance to go
as far as you can, test the limits. Hope, just maybe…
Every time the mental
message got to that point she shut it off. She’d see what happened when he got
back. If he got back.

She used the worry about the unanswered questions to
distract herself from facing how she felt. What had he needed to go do in such
a rush? Who the hell was this messed-up family he had to deal with? How would
he be? Would he be as crazed to see her as she was him or would he be
different?

Would he even come back at all?

Then there was one thought she ignored.
Maybe this is for
the best.

She let the relief flood through her when she saw him and
forgot the rest. For the moment.

He hesitated when he got out of the car, but she took a step
forward. That seemed to be all he needed and he covered the few yards to the
porch, then took all three steps at once. No holding back, he buried himself in
her neck, his big arms wrapping around her. The swirling mess of emotions in
her head faded at his touch. The anxiety of facing the truth collided with her
fears. She had missed him. She had to face that she cared enough to have had
sleepless nights whether or not she wanted to feel this way. She had to admit
the weary look on his face made her want to soothe him, just hold him. There
would be time for sorting out the rest later.

Pulling back, she inspected him. His hair felt damp, she
felt the sting of disappointment he’d taken the time to stop at his place and
shower before he came to her, but he hadn’t bothered to do anything else it
seemed. It looked as if he hadn’t shaved since he left, and the circles under
his eyes were deep, dark. He looked pale. He’d slept less than she had.

He had on a wrinkled T-shirt, a faded pair of jeans. And he
was barefoot.

Pasting a wary smile on her lips, she drank in the sight of
him, stroking his cheek with her hand. “In a hurry?”

“I didn’t want to spend the time to tie them.” He threw his
hikers in the corner with hers as he backed her through the door into her
living room. The deep, heavy sigh against her chest sounded as if he hadn’t
been breathing for days. He kissed her—long, slow, barely moving, just holding
his lips on hers.

“You okay?”

“No.” He shook his head against hers, hugging her tighter.
“I will be. I got your messages. Thank you, it helped. More than you know.”

She hadn’t been able to resist doing it, needing to do
something besides just sit, feeling like an impulsive kid every time she picked
up the phone, most of the time putting it right back down. She did allow
herself to at least leave a few messages, just saying she hoped he was okay,
that she was still here. Following Al’s advice to just be here, that he would
need her, she had left them as much to soothe herself as him. Sending him a
connection to something better than whatever he was apparently dealing with if
he wanted it. Apparently, he did.

“Hungry?” She pulled back, couldn’t resist running her
fingers through his hair.

“Aren’t I always? I’m hungry, yeah, but I just want to hold
you first, that okay with you?” Smiling down at her, he leaned his forehead
into hers and took another deep breath, eyes closed.

It was far better than okay, being wrapped up in him made it
feel as if every little paranoid thought she’d had over the last couple of days
never existed. Nodding her head, she pulled him onto the couch with her, lying
next to him, her arm under his head, both of his still tight around her as if
he didn’t want to let her go again. He closed his eyes again, sinking into her.

“You look exhausted.”

“Haven’t slept,” he mumbled, nuzzling his face into her
neck.

“At all?”

“No.” He gave a weak little shake to his head.

Her heart felt heavy for him, and there was nothing she
could do to fix it. She ran her fingers through his barely towel-dried hair,
over his rough cheek—two days stubble getting thick and heavy. “Stay here. You
need to eat. Then you’re going to sleep.”

She made him a tuna sandwich, it was the fastest thing she
could think of and he ate it in about three bites before he reached to pull her
back in next to him. She grabbed his hand instead. “No, come on, I know where
you need to be.”

She led him to her bed. For once without one thought of
having anything except this big man she suddenly felt so protective of sleep
next to her, knowing he was here with her where she could watch over him. It
hadn’t been a big secret he loved being in her bed more than any place else, no
matter what they were doing in it.

He never let her go the whole time as she pushed him down
into the bed, covering them both up with just the sheet, pulling his head in
close to her chest and stroking his hair. He’d had one arm tightly around her,
and now both of them, as if he let go he’d be washed away and lost forever.

He slept wrapped around her. It did have an effect on her
that as soon as she had him snuggled in and pulled him into her, he began snoring
softly. It pulled her heart almost completely out of her chest, made her want
to cry, made her want to give him anything he wanted or could ever ask for.

It killed any thoughts she’d had about grilling him on just
what the hell was going on, why he was secretive about his past, his family,
and why he had had to leave in such a rush. No matter what had happened, she
was the first place he’d run to when it was over. That was almost more than she
could take. The responsibility of it weighed almost as heavily as the fact that
she wanted it to be that way, that she was losing ground fast on keeping her
head from slipping beneath the waves of falling completely in love with this
man.

He slept for twelve hours. She slept some too but eventually
got up, feeling physically rested but mentally strung out. The aftereffects of
the last couple of days kept her brain from shutting down enough to clear her
head.

“Teryn?”

“Out here, be there in a sec,” she called out, setting her
coffee on the table, she headed back down the hall to her bedroom.

He lay sprawled on his stomach, still wrapped around the
pillow she’d shoved under his arm when she managed to finally crawl away.

He stared at her intently. “I need you.”

She laughed, his stare making her squirm a bit. “You think?
Are we going to stay in here forever?”

“Maybe.” He held his hand out to her.

She curled up next to him and he slid his hand up her still
bare thigh as she snuggled closer. “Nice T-shirt.”

“You should know. It’s yours.”

“I know.” He opened his eyes, a slight smile curling his
lips. “Miss me?”

The question sounded so simple. If it had been, her belly
wouldn’t have knotted at the words. The temptation to deny it sprang up, but
she had never shied away from being honest, even when it was difficult.

“I missed you, yes. Al didn’t tell me much, just enough to
make me feel bad for whatever you were going through. Me? I only changed shirts
when your smell wore off and I needed to find another one you had worn so I
could get it back.” She cringed, realizing she had revealed more than she
intended.

His head lifted off the pillow, eyes open wide now.
“Serious?”

Nodding slightly, she didn’t back away from the truth, and
ran her hand over his back. Her nerves were skittering away from her and oddly,
touching him comforted her even when he was the cause of her distress. “Yes, as
much of an ass as I just sounded like, that is the truth.”

“It sounded wonderful to me. You missed me.” His smile could
have pierced through anything. It felt wonderful. It felt scary.

It gave her a jolt and a little bit of edge to withdraw from
the emotion she was drowning in, pulling her protective barrier back up, just a
bit.

Physically she distanced herself as well, leaning back away
from him. “Are we going to talk about what happened, or is this still an
off-limits topic?”

His head dropped back to the pillow and his eyes closed
again. “I can’t, Teryn. Not yet. I’m just not ready to go there.” His body grew
so hard and tense she regretted saying it. Almost. “I will, when it’s time, I
promise.”

“I expected that, I guess.” Her turn to tense, she felt the
truth knot her shoulders. Hope that he might give her the answers that would
answer the questions his actions and Al’s words had left in her died. Covering
her disappointment, she settled into the feel of his arms around her instead.
“We’ll just stick with me admitting my missing you as the big breakthrough of
the day then. But just so you know, we still have a standoff. I know you’ve
been through absolute hell. Whatever it is I can feel it. Until you decide you
can take that extra step, I’ll just update you on the fact that all this keeps
me right where I’m at. I did miss you, but I still am going to stick to my
self-preservation mode for the next time you disappear because that might be
permanent.” She turned her back to him, keeping her body curled against his,
but pulling away access to her emotions, to any more than she was willing to
give him right now. It hurt too much to admit that her words were the exact
opposite of what she was feeling.

“I know. I deserve that.”

His hands stroked her back, her thighs. She felt his
breathing deepen, felt her own rush of need to feel him against her and knew
this was going exactly where it always did, to the one place they could feel
everything they needed to without giving up any more to each other than they
already had.

Clothes were gone and he was slipping into her faster than
any time she could remember before. The need was there, but not the fury. He
clung to her, kissing her deeply, touching her skin, everywhere. As much as
their sex was always on some deep instinctive level, this was one of those
rare, even deeper moments, when the need to crash into each other was replaced
by something more, the need to be connected, perfectly, completely.

He made love to her slowly, sweetly, stroking his big body
inside hers, watching her, teasing her, holding her around him like something
precious he needed to never let go of. They rode the crest of all the pent-up
tension, the trauma of the last two days that he’d endured, and the anxiety she
had lived with to a sweet, rolling release that felt so pure, so true. His eyes
never left hers. Not when he was kissing her, not when his head dipped low to
nuzzle against her breast, and not when he came into her, his eyes burned
fierce, deep indigo, constant.

She reached up and pushed the damp hair away from his
forehead. Whether or not what she felt was reflected on her face didn’t seem to
matter as much as the fact that they could manage to be like this when the
communication between them for other things, monumentally important things, was
a disaster.

He flopped over onto his back and threw his arm over his
face. “My family is complete poison, Teryn. I don’t want it, or anything about
it, to touch us or you.”

Resisting the urge to wrap herself around him, she stayed
still. “Kind of hard, when I am pretty much touching you about 24/7. You are
part of your family.”

“Not really. I’m nothing like them.”

“That’s not the point, and you know it. Look, I don’t need
to know for now, okay? I’m fine.”

“I’m not.”

“I know you’re not. What’s going to make it better?”

“You.”

“Then problem solved, right? I’m here, and I’m not planning
on going anywhere. What’s going on between us doesn’t take family, Grant. It
just takes the two of us pretty much naked, end of story.” The truth sucked
sometimes, but there it was.

Something passed over his face, it seemed like a lot of
somethings. He was debating himself in his head, and she could see it plain as
day. She waited, unsure of whether she wanted him to get it out or not. If he
did, it would mean she would have to step up too. Own her feelings, give
something back, or not at all, and this would be over.

After what seemed like forever, but was really only a minute
or so, he closed his eyes, laid his head against her chest and kept his mouth
shut. She breathed a sigh of relief.

* * * * *

The dream came, vivid as always. His mother. Standing over
him when he was a kid, probably all of seven. Wearing one of her
thousand-dollar suits, walking into the room and ordering the nanny to jump to
attention. Then her looking at him. That fake smile he hated so much. He wanted
her to look concerned, to reach out and hug him. She patted him on the head.
The
nurse is here, Grant. She’ll take good care of you. I’ll see you when you are
better, okay? I can’t take the chance of getting sick. We have so many
fundraisers this month. Please don’t ruin the rug if you can help it, hmm?
Then she was gone. His nanny did come over and hug him—but he knew it was more
from pity than anything—as he cried himself to sleep.

“Grant? Grant, are you awake?”

He peeled his eyes open. The sight that greeted him was much
better than his stern mother’s face. Teryn looked tired, worried.

“Hey, sleepy head. You doing okay? You were making a weird noise.”
The tenderness in her voice was so soft, so sweet.

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