Callen I need your advice on something.
Cooper Pulling out isnât effective.
Callen Dude. Youâre married to my sister.
Cooper Whatâs your point . . . ?
âText from Callen to Cooper Carys hands me a cup of tea, reminding me so much of Mom that itâs a little freaky. âYou doing okay, little brother? I know itâs been a heavy few days.â
âThanks, Carys.â I splash some milk in the mug, even though itâs a hundred degrees outside and Iâd rather be drinking a beer.
My sister stands there, waiting me out like she thinks sheâs preparing for the fall or something. âIâm fine.â
Pretty sure Iâve never said that as much as I have these past few days.
She nods but doesnât believe me. Itâs written all over her face.
âIf you say so.â She leans her elbows on the marble counter and stares me down. âYou think youâll get any playing time Thursday night?â
âMaybe one series. Theyâll tell me whether Iâm dressing for the game tomorrow.â Most teams wonât risk their starters getting injured during preseason. These games arenât for us. Theyâre for the rest of the team to evaluate the players and the plays. But preseason games donât count for anything. Not for standings. Not for playoffs. Not for bonuses. And they wonât risk the money makers. Why should they? âWhy? You coming?â
She looks away and wipes at her eye. âYeah. We all are. We want to make sure weâre there in case it ends up being Coachâs last game.â
Yeah. Thereâs the fucking purple spotted elephant in the corner of the goddamn room.
âI think itâs gonna be,â Cooper adds as he walks into the kitchen, looking at something on his iPad. I was too young to remember Coop as a SEAL. After he retired, he managed money for a while. Pretty sure he never has to work another day in his life if he doesnât want to, but youâd never know it. Thatâs not his way. These days, heâs a consultant for a private military group. It gives him plenty of time to be involved with his three kids. Especially since Carysâs lingerie brand has skyrocketed over the past ten years.
He looks me over skeptically. âKinda late in the day for a run . . .â
âYeah. Just wanted to clear my head and ended up here.â Cooper and I meet a few times a week for a run. Sometimes Declan will join us. Every now and then, Brady will too. Never Murphy. Heâs not a runner. Most of the time though, itâs just Coop and me.
âCome on.â He slaps my back and heads to the kitchen door. âLetâs grab some rods.â
I look from him through the glass door out to the lake at the end of the property. âItâs hot as balls outside.â
Carys giggles and leaves us to it. âHave fun, boys.â
She kisses Coopâs cheek, and he smacks her ass as I look away.
My entire family is like this. None of them are afraid of PDA.
None. Of. Them.
Growing up, it was sickening. Family vacations were hazardous to your health. At least as a teenage boy. Nobody wants to see their dad grabbing their momâs ass. Or worse. The outdoor showers at our beach compound have seen a whole lot of action. And most of it wasnât from my generation until recently.
Well . . . at least as far as anyone knows.
Not gonna lie. Now I kind of get it. At least I think I do.
I could easily see myself unable to keep my hands off Caitlin twenty years from now.
If Maddox doesnât fucking kill me first.
âCome on, kid.â Cooper pushes through the door and grabs the fishing rods leaning against the back of the house and two beers from the outdoor fridge, and I follow him down to his new dock. He and Carys have always lived on the lake. But it was only about ten years ago that the land across the lake from them went on the market. They bought it, built this house, and have used their original house as a rental property ever since. âWant to tell me whatâs going on?â
I laugh. âYou know you have actual kids. Ones Iâm ten years older than, by the way.â
He casts his rod and cracks his beer. âDid I ever tell you when you were little and I lived on the other side of the country, I worried you wouldnât know who the hell I was? You, Everly, and Gracie . . . the three of you barely knew me. And I swore when I came home, Iâd fix it. Kid, by the time I was your age, I was married with three kids of my own. But getting to watch you grow up . . . Getting to be here for it. Not everyone gets that chance, and I was grateful. So, yeah. I guess youâll always be a kid to me. I donât mean it as disrespect.â
âYeah . . .â I cast my rod and sit in an Adirondak chair next to him, definitely the one grateful now. Not just for Coop but all my crazy-ass siblings. âI donât take it that way either. It just cracks me up.â
We sit in silence as the late afternoon sun dips down behind the falls across Kroydon Lake until Cooper finally pushes me. âYou gonna tell me whatâs bothering you? Is it Dad?â
âI mean . . . The stuff with Dad is fucking with me.â
Itâs not a lie.
Itâs not exactly the whole truth either.
âWhat else is on your mind, Callen?â
âYou ever done something you knew was right but you knew it was fucked up too?â I ask, not ready to give him specifics but needing someone to talk to.
Caitlin wasnât wrong this morning.
We rushed into things last night.
But how the hell can it be rushed when itâs been years in the making?
Cooper stares blankly at me before his lips curve. âI married your sister. Pretty sure a whole lot of people in our family thought it was pretty fucked up at first.â
âIâve heard stories . . .â I nod, knowing thereâs so much I donât know. Probably donât want to know. âHowâd you handle knowing it could fuck up your relationship with Murphy?â
He, Murphy, Brady, and Caitlinâs Uncle Bash were all best friends growing up.
That didnât change when Murphyâs mom married Cooperâs dad.
Iâm betting it got complicated.
Almost thirty years later, weâre a powerhouse family.
Cooper looks at me. âTell me youâre not in love with Bellamy Wilder.â
âWhat?â I laugh. âNo.â
Bellamyâs brothers both married Sinclair sisters. Pretty sure thatâs enough.
âGood. No need to keep it that much in the family.â He looks at my unopened beer, and his look changes. It hardens. âIâm not going to ask then. Iâm just going to tell you to be sure. Before you hurt someone. Anyone . . . be sure whatever it is, is worth it.â
I stare off in the distance, knowing no matter what I do, Iâm fucking over someone I love.
And thatâs the thing about Caitlin . . . Sheâs Cait. Without ever saying it, I love her. I always have. Not in the same sense. But sheâs always meant something to me. I donât want to hurt her. I donât want to hurt Maddox. I donât want to fuck it all up.
âCan you imagine your life without her? Can you live without her touch?â Cooper asks, and I consider playing dumb, but I came today because Coopâs the brother whoâd get it. Who would understand me without me ever having to fill in the blanks.
âItâs early . . .â
âThatâs a boyâs answer, Callen.â
Fuck.
That hits hard.
âA man knows. Be the man youâre supposed to be.â He pulls his line out of the water and recasts. âYou know . . . our old house is empty. The tenant moved out a few weeks ago, and we havenât put it back on the market yet.â
I think about that for a few minutes.
âYou think you could hold off on listing it for a few weeks? I think I need to figure a few things out.â Maybe a little distance would help. Or maybe I need a plan for when Maddox fucking kills me.
Callen Want to grab dinner with me?
Kitten Like a date?
Wonât people see?
Callen People will see two friends getting dinner. They wonât see what Iâll do to you after.
Kitten Does this mean you didnât call Maddox?
Callen It means I want to take you out, Caitlin.
Kitten Okay.
Caitlin When Callen suggested dinner, I assumed heâd meant West End . . . I hadnât planned on walking around the cobblestone streets of Chestnut Hill. The tiny town not far from Kroydon Hills has a great vibe. White fairy lights are strung from the trees as live music trails out from the local bars. Callen holds my hand in his as we make our way to a small restaurant right off the main street and asks for a seat in the back.
âYou afraid to be seen with me, Sinclair?â I tease him, knowing we donât look anything like friends right now. We look very much like a couple on a date, and I love it. This is what it could be. This is what we could have . . . if heâd let us.
âNot at all, Cait.â He thanks the waiter, then pulls out my chair. âI donât feel like having fans come up to us all night to talk about tomorrowâs game.â
âGood answer.â I smile as I drape my napkin over my lap and look at the menu, but Callen just sits and stares at me, making my cheeks flush. This man makes me self-conscious in a way I never am. âWhat?â
âHave I told you how pretty you look tonight, Caitlin?â
I sit a little straighter, unable to tell him how long Iâve waited to hear those words from him. âYou have now.â
His leg brushes mine under the table, sending an electric current coursing over my skin as the silence between us reaches almost deafening levels.
âSo . . .â I finally say just as he starts at the same time.
âAbout last night . . .â
âYou first,â I tell him, hating this weird awkwardness between us.
Weâre good at acting like the other doesnât exist.
Itâs how weâve coexisted for so long.
Ignorance is bliss, and all that crap.
But this . . . this is painful.
This feels strangely forced. Not the being with Callen part. The part where weâre supposed to act like nothing happened.
âWeââ
The waiter interrupts us to read the specials and take our drink orders, but Callenâs eyes never leave mine, locked on me with an almost predatory glint.
When itâs finally just the two of us again, Callen grabs my hand. âCait . . . Iâm not saying last night shouldnât have happened. But we should have talked. I should have taken you on a date. I should have done a lot of things before last night happened. Things you deserve.â
âThings we can do now,â I protest, not sure where heâs going with this. âThereâs no right order, Callen. Itâs whateverâs right for us, not for everyone else.â
âIs there an us?â He shutters his eyes, and every inch of my body goes on high alert.â We didnât exactly take the time to talk about it.â
âNo, we didnât talk about that last night, but Iâm pretty sure I spelled that out for you this morning,â I snap a little more harshly than I probably should have. âWhat do you want, Callen? Is it me?â
He doesnât answer right away, and my defenses soar. âIf itâs not me, thatâs okay. We can go back to acting like we donât matter to each other. Like last night never happened. Iâve watched you with everyone but me for eight years. I can do it again.â I pull my hand away from his. âBut make no mistake, Sinclair. I wonât be here in another year, waiting for you. This is your chance. You donât get a third.â
Callen reaches across the table, palm up, waiting.
When I donât place my hand back in his, he reaches under the table and grabs it, holding it in my lap. âChrist, Caitlin. Not all of us answer as fast as you. It takes most of the rest of the world a few minutes to compose a thought. That doesnât mean I donât want you. It doesnât mean I want to act like nothing happened. Iâll never be able to act like that again. Iâve done that once, and that was hard enough.â
âOh . . .â I lick my lips and lean back as the waiter delivers my wine and Callenâs soda.
âAre you ready to order?â He looks between Callen and me and waits.
âCould you give us a few minutes?â Callen asks him.
But as the waiter walks away this time, thereâs no uncomfortable silence. âI wasnât sureââ I start, before he cuts me off.
âAnd thatâs my fault, Cait. I know I hurt you before. But I need you to understand something. In collegeâ ââ
âGod, Callen. Can we not?â I ask, still mortified.
âIf weâre doing this thing, we need to do it right,â he tells me with this quiet confidence I find so incredibly sexy. Callen Sinclair is loud most of the time. He jokes and teases. But itâs the quiet moments that Iâve always thought were at the heart of him. âThat means clearing a few things up. Like that night.â
I close my eyes. âLike that night.â
âYou were eighteen, Caitlin. Barely eighteen. And I had a girlfriend. One Iâd been with for four years.â
I cringe at the memory thatâs burned into my brain.
The way I snuck into his room . . .
The nerves I felt then and the humiliation I felt when he rejected me.
He squeezes my hand, then slides his under my sundress and rests it on my bare thigh. âAnd I was twenty-two, about to be drafted.â
âCallen . . .â Iâm not sure what I even want to say.
âIt took every ounce of strength I had to turn you down, kitten.â His words are jagged and harsh. âI swear on my life, Cait. Iâve thought about that night a million times since. But I couldnât. Iâm a lot of things, but Iâm not a cheat. And Iâm not a shit friend. Not until last night. But fuck . . . Caitlin. I wasnât the right man for you then. I was barely a fucking man. I was a kid who was about to get the keys to the fucking kingdom.â
âAnd I was just a kid . . .â I whisper, wishing I could take it back.
âA kid with more confidence than most grown men I know.â
I swallow my nerves and somehow manage to keep my voice steady. âAnd now?â
âNow Iâm a man who knows what I want, Cait. Itâs the same thing Iâve wanted for four fucking years.â God, those words . . . Iâve waited so long to hear those words and had given up hope I ever would.
âWhat changed, Callen? Why now?â I canât believe Iâm even asking. But I need to know. âBecause I meant it when I said I canât keep doing this. Not now. Not after last night.â
âYou changed it. For four years, Iâve fought this. I guess I donât have the fight left in me to fight it anymore.â
âWow. Is that supposed to make me feel good about myself? Iâve worn you down? Seriously?â I glare as the waiter brings the rolls and salads, but Callen refuses to let go of my hand.
Iâm not sure whether to laugh or cry.
âItâs supposed to tell you this isnât something I take lightly. Youâre important to me. You always have been . . .â He leaves his sentence hanging.
âLet me guess . . . but so is my brother.â I feel like this is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
âYou know he is, Cait.â
âSo where does that leave us?â I ask, getting dizzy from this merry-go-round but not willing to get off it. Unsure if Iâll ever be ready.
âYou tell me.â
âI just want a chance to figure out whatâs going on before we tell the world,â I plead. âWe shouldnât have to figure it all out tonight.â
âI donât think we have to figure it all out. Just what matters to us. And, yeah, Maddox is one of those things. He comes home Friday, Cait, and Iâm not willing to lie to him. Not just because itâs him, but because I donât want to start this . . . us . . . on a lie. Weâre going to have enough stacked against us. Iâm not letting that be one of the things too.â
âHeâs never going to be okay with this.â My stomach drops at the thought of whatâs coming.
âIâd rather have him pissed because of the truth than furious over a lie.â
Well hell . . . when he puts it that way . . .
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