Susan Mallery - Delicious

“Why?” she asked. “What’s so important about a letter?”

“It’s all that’s left of him.”

She touched his arm. “There has to be something else. You don’t leave a career to deliver a letter. Why do you owe him?”

“He took a bullet for me.”

Walker stared at the table. He could still see everything about that moment as clearly as if it had just happened. It had been cold in the village. There’d been snow the night before and he and some of his men were following tracks. Insurgents had been spotted in the area. Everyone was on alert. Walker had been the most experienced and he knew they were going to have trouble, but even he hadn’t expected gunfire to come from the caves.

“There weren’t any tracks,” he said, more to himself than Naomi. “I’d checked the caves myself the previous evening and no one had been there. How could they have gotten in without leaving footprints?”

“Walker?”

He shook his head. “Ben heard something. I don’t know what. Suddenly he pushed me aside and then he was dead. The bullet caught him right in the heart. He didn’t have a chance to say anything.”

He finished his beer and leaned back in his chair. “I owe him. I’m going to find Ashley and tell her he died bravely. I want her to have the letter. Someone, somewhere has to care about that kid.”

She still had a hold of his arm. She moved her hand down until their fingers laced together.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know that’s lame and meaningless, but I’m really sorry. I won’t say anything.”

“Keeping my secrets?” he asked.

She nodded.

Tears filled her eyes. She might be forty, but she was damn beautiful. Her full mouth quivered. A single tear rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away.

He’d always thought it must be a good thing to be able to cry. To ease the pain that built up inside. He never managed it himself. Not even when he’d crouched there, holding Ben’s body.

“I know how much it hurts,” she whispered.

He appreciated the sentiment, even as he dismissed it. She squeezed his hand.

“Walker, I know,” she told him. “I was married once. A long time ago. I had a child. A son. He was great. Smart and funny and curious and just the greatest kid ever.”

Another tear rolled down her cheek.

“I loved him. I didn’t know it was possible to love that much until I had him and then it was as if my heart couldn’t hold all that love. I would have done anything for him. I would have died a thousand times for him.”

There was another tear, then another. She brushed them away.

Walker wanted to bolt from the room. He wanted to be anywhere but here, because whatever Naomi had to tell him, he didn’t want to hear.

But he stayed because he knew if he left, she would be alone, and he couldn’t bring himself to do that to her.

“He was twelve,” she said. “We were in the car, just talking and having fun. I went to put a tape in. I’d done it a thousand times before. The tape slipped, I reached down to pick it up. It just took a second.”

Her breath caught. She pulled her fingers free and covered her face with her hands.

“Just one second. And then there was a car. It plowed right into us, hitting his side. He was killed instantly. I walked away without a scratch and my baby died. Not even in my arms. Just there, in the seat. I screamed and reached for him, but he was already gone.”

Walker shifted in his chair and pulled her against him. He could feel her sobs. He didn’t try to comfort her with meaningless words. Instead he held her tight.

“So I know,” she said against his chest. “I know how much it hurts. I know what it’s like to never forgive yourself, because I couldn’t. Everyone said it was just one of those things. That it wasn’t my fault. Even my husband. But they were wrong. It was my fault. It was me. I wanted to die. I took some pills and they locked me away for a while. When they let me out, I got in a car and I drove and I drove until the road ended. I was here, in Seattle. I lived in my car for a while, but no matter how much I suffered, I couldn’t forget what I’d done.”

He touched his fingers to her chin and forced her to look at him. Tears trickled down her cheeks.

“God, it hurts,” she said. “Every minute of every day it hurts.”

He felt her pain. It mingled with his own.

“I loved him,” she whispered. “Why couldn’t I save him?”

“We can never save the ones we love,” he told her.

Then he stood and pulled her to her feet. After tossing a twenty on the table, he led her out to his car.

As he opened the door, she stared at him. “That’s why I do it. To help me forget.”

The men. He’d figured there was a reason. “Does it help?”

“For a little while. And then I remember and my heart breaks all over again.”

“I’d like to forget,” he said and pulled her close.

She went willingly into his arms. He kissed her with a desperation borne of far more than just sexual need. She clung to him, responding as if she would die if she didn’t have him.

Perhaps she would, he thought, as desire took over and clouded his mind. Perhaps they both would.

TWO DAYS LATER, things weren’t much better with Penny. Cal appreciated that she’d stopped assaulting him with deadly weapons, but she still wasn’t speaking to him. After thinking over their conversation he realized that admitting he hadn’t really loved her while they’d been married had probably put him at the top of the list for idiot of the year.

He parked next to Reid’s Corvette and climbed out of his car. The day was sunny but he could feel the dampness of the lake in the chilly morning. Still, the view was impressive as he stared east toward Bellevue and Kirkland.

He walked along the dock, then stepped onto his brother’s houseboat and knocked on the front door.

“It’s Cal,” he called in warning. “Don’t answer the door naked.”

Reid pulled open the front door and grinned. “Don’t want to be intimidated, huh?”

“Like that would happen.”

Reid, dressed in sweats and barefoot, led the way into the kitchen. “Let’s not have that conversation. Coffee?”

“Sure.”

Reid poured them each a cup from the pot. Without speaking, they walked into the living room and sat down.

Houseboat didn’t fully describe the remodeled twenty-two-hundred-square-foot luxury home on the water. There was every modern convenience and the added pleasure of being directly on LakeWashington.

“Penny wants you skinned alive and served with salsa,” Reid said conversationally.

“She mentioned that, huh?”

“She ranted and yelled. Then she cried.” Reid looked at Cal. “You get that one for free this time, but don’t let it happen again.”

Cal knew his brother wasn’t kidding. “You were right. I should have told her about Lindsey.”

He waited for the crowing “I told you so,” but Reid only sipped his coffee. The silence told Cal how bad things were.

He wondered if his brother knew that he and Penny had slept together. That night had been spectacular-and not just for the hot sex. There had been something about being with her again…

Warning signs flashed on and off in his brain. No emotions allowed, he reminded himself. No feeling. It wasn’t smart, it wasn’t safe and in the end, everyone suffered.

“I hate that bitch,” Reid said.

It took Cal a second to realize he meant Gloria. “She loves to screw with us.”

“It’s because we won’t do what she wants.”

“I have,” Cal said. “More than once.”

Reid glanced at him. “That’s because you were the oldest and were trying to protect the rest of us.”

True enough, but that didn’t make him feel any better about his decisions. “Gloria’s been on my ass about taking over the company,” he said. “Why would she pull something like this? She has to know it’ll piss me off.”

“She wants to make sure you don’t get back together with Penny more than she wants you to run the corporation. She can’t forgive Penny for walking out on one of her precious grandsons.”

Made sense, Cal thought. “Still, it’s my fault Gloria had ammunition in the first place. If I’d told Penny about Lindsey, Gloria couldn’t have fucked things up.”

“We’ve all made bad choices,” Reid said. “Now you’ll deal with yours.”

He regretted having to make the confession more than he could say. “She thinks I’m glad she lost the baby. I’m not. I wasn’t back then, either. I never wished anything bad would happen to our child.”

“Maybe not, but you were relieved.”

Cal opened his mouth and closed it. His brother spoke the truth. He remembered his initial happiness fading as a sense of being trapped took over. How was he supposed to have another child and care about it when he’d simply walked away from Lindsey? He’d been confused and hadn’t had anyone he could talk to. Or so he thought. Now he knew he could have discussed it with his brothers. Or Penny. He hadn’t trusted her to understand. What if she had? What if they’d been able to pull together instead of being pulled apart?

“I didn’t have all the answers,” he said at last.

“No one ever expected you to. Except you. Cal, none of us is perfect. It’s time you stopped trying to be. Get over it. Yes, you had a kid. You didn’t want to give her up, but you did. She’s great. Happy, living a good life. Move on.”

Advice he should listen to. “Penny has. She’s excited about the baby.”

“Of course she is. She’s always wanted kids.”

Cal knew that. In some ways, that was his greatest sin. “She was right-I changed the rules. When we were first together, I wanted kids as much as she. It was the reality of having a baby I could keep that screwed me up. When I told her I’d changed my mind…” He could still see the disbelief and hurt on her face. “I owe her.”

“Big time. But that’s the past. Let it go. She’s moved on.” Reid looked at him again. “Your timing sucks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Friday, when all this hit the fan, she’d just felt the baby move for the first time. She wanted to tell you. How’s that for a kick in the teeth? There she was all excited and doing the happy dance.”

The baby moved? “She never felt that with ours. She lost it too soon.” He could imagine her delight and excitement. “Did you feel it, too?”

“I tried, but it was too faint. There she was, all happy and then Gloria dumps the first load on her and you dump the second. Way to go, big brother.”

Cal swore. He felt like shit. “I never meant…”

Right. Because meaning or not meaning didn’t matter to anyone. Penny didn’t deserve any of this from him. She hadn’t done anything wrong. All she’d done was show up every damn day of their marriage. She’d taken a whole lot longer to give up than she should have and he’d let her go without a word.

“You should beat the crap out of me,” Cal muttered.

“That would only make you feel better and right now I’m not interested in doing that. She has a doctor’s appointment in a couple of days. An ultrasound. She’s pretty sure she doesn’t want to know if it’s a boy or a girl. And jeez, the names she’s talking about. Poor kid. But I think she’ll come around. Penny’s pretty smart.”

Penny was a lot of things, Cal thought, fighting a sudden aching sense of loss for all he’d missed with her.

He reminded himself that he was fine with that-being a part of something wasn’t his goal. Love didn’t last. Hadn’t he had that proved to him over and over?

“Naomi was in last night,” Reid said. “She left with Walker.”

“You okay with that?”

Reid shrugged. “Sure. Why not? There were never any promises between us.”

Not wanting a permanent commitment was one thing, but Reid’s lifestyle made no sense to him.

“Don’t you ever want more than a parade of women through your life?”

His brother frowned. “No. Why?”

“But you don’t care about the women you sleep with.”

Reid grinned. “For that night, she’s the most important woman in the world.”

Cal snorted. “Yeah, right. And in the morning you can’t remember her name. Don’t you ever want more than that?”

“Not even on a bet.”

“ARE YOU SICK?” Penny asked.

Naomi continued to chop leeks. “No. I’m fine. Stop bugging me. You’re getting on my nerves.”

Penny knew she should back off, but she couldn’t help worrying. “You’re not yourself. You’ve been quiet for a couple of days. Is it a guy?”

Naomi turned to her, holding the knife in her hand. “I learned from an expert, okay? I’m fine. I have stuff on my mind.”

“But I’m worried about you.”

Naomi put down the knife. “You’re sweet to worry, but don’t. I’m fine. Just thinking. It’s not something I usually do, so it’s hard for me.”