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She was only six, but she was a perceptive little girl. I didn’t want her asking questions about why I was acting funny. Why I wanted to reach down between my legs and touch myself, to make myself come. Because honestly, what could I say? I’m freaking out because I saw your daddies today, sweetheart, and they were too hot to resist.
I was so not ready to have that conversation, or at least a G-rated version of it.
I stared at my reflection in the entryway mirror. To their eyes, I probably looked the same as they remembered, or similar at least. I touched my shorter hair, saw that my makeup was more subdued. But I was still tall and slender, with the same heart-shaped face and blue eyes. I needed to make it clear to them that I might look the same, but looks could be deceiving. I wasn’t that girl anymore and beneath my clothes, I wasn’t nubile or eighteen. Were they interested in what we had together seven years ago or the woman I’d become? They said they wanted to learn more, but I’d shut them down, hadn’t given them the chance. No, their chance was tomorrow night. One night.
You’re ours—you always have been.
My heart fluttered in my chest at the thought. Back when I was a kid I used to think the Bridgewater way was romantic. Sweet, even. Two men sweeping me off my feet. I met my gaze in the mirror again. Now the Bridgewater way just scared the crap out of me. They thought I was the one. The. One. That I could be their future. My chest tightened painfully. There was no way, not after all this time and not with all the secrets between us. They might want me in their lives, but I didn’t want them.
No, I did want them. Too much, and that was the problem. It wasn’t just about me any more.
The ache between my thighs that hadn’t subsided called me a liar. I couldn’t deny that I was still attracted to them, but I was a grown up now. I knew that attraction wasn’t everything. It didn’t necessarily equal commitment and family, and that was what I needed. Lily needed it. Deserved it.
I smirked at my reflection in the mirror. I supposed family was what they’d given me, in a roundabout way. Without them, without that one night, there would be no Lily, and she was my family. She was my everything. I’d given her a stable home and I wasn’t about to let two near-strangers into her life to wreak havoc because they were hung up on one night seven years ago.
Besides, there was no telling what they’d do if they found out they had a child they knew nothing about.
CHAPTER THREE
RORY
It took Cooper way too long to open the door to his hotel room. I had to seek him out when he never showed up for breakfast and when he opened the door, I saw why. “You look like shit.”
Cooper grimaced and winced at the light coming from the hallway. He headed back into the room, leaving me to follow, rubbing the back of his neck as he went.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” Shit. I hated when my tone took on that mother hen sound. It wasn’t me. Or at least it hadn’t been until nearly a year ago when Cooper stopped eating and sleeping unless someone forced him to. PTSD was a bitch. A ruthless bitch. He’d gotten better at day-to-day survival these past few months, therapy had helped, but I still found myself checking up on him, making sure he was getting by.
Not that my forcing him to eat a healthy meal now and again made up for the fact that I’d ruined his life, but for now it was the best I could do. It had been my dream to go into the army, not his. I’d wanted out of my fucked up house and while he’d had a Leave It To Beaver family, he’d enlisted with me. Only to get blown out of the damn sky.
And now he wasn’t sleeping because of nightmares. Haunted by the ghosts of those who’d died. Learning of Ivy’s whereabouts had helped, but seeing her had fucked with him. I wasn’t sure if it was because she hadn’t leaped into either of our arms or her telling us we were seven years too late. Either way, reality was also a bitch.
Maybe it was because she was so fucking perfect, that he wanted her when those six soldiers who died would never know the feel of woman’s arms around his neck, the tight heat of her pussy.
When Cooper ignored my question and started digging through his backpack for a change of clothes, I knew I had my answer. He hadn’t slept—at least not after the nightmare I was sure he’d had. I knew he had them about the crash more nights than not, how he wouldn’t be able to sleep after. Sometimes he talked to me about them, but most often he kept quiet like he was doing now.
“Did you already eat?” Cooper asked, heading toward the bathroom sink with a toothbrush in hand.
“Yeah, but I’ll go back to the diner with you. I could use another cup of coffee.”
Cooper’s response was a snort of disbelief as he scratched his dick through his boxers. “You just want to make sure I eat breakfast.”
I shrugged when Cooper caught my eye in the mirror’s reflection. Guilty. But his eyes? Bloodshot and full of guilt. Pain. Shame.
Cooper shook his head before spitting out some toothpaste. “I don’t need you looking over my shoulder all the time. I’ve been eating three meals a day, like a good little boy.”
I ignored his harsh, sarcastic tone. It was going to be one of those days. I just hoped he shook off the nightmare and the hangover that came with it before we picked Ivy up for our date.
“I could use another cup of coffee,” I said. It was the truth, whether he believed me or not. I’d been up half the night too, though not with nightmares. I’d been thinking about Ivy…and how the fuck I was going to make sure she came back to Bridgewater with us. She was everything I remembered, and more. She’d been barely a woman then, all lean, sweet curves. Now? Now she was all woman. Lush breasts, rounded hips. Her hair was a touch darker, shorter, but it looked as silky as I when I’d run my fingers through it before. I wanted to touch her, discover every inch of her all over again. We were all different, changed, and so while we had a past together, we had to start over.
I was excited for that. Eager to discover the older, wiser Ivy. I just had to hope she wanted to do the same for us. We weren’t the men who she remembered and it was going to be damn hard to get her to want two damaged souls. Just seeing the results of Cooper’s rough night had me worried.
Everything was riding on this. I’d been dreaming about settling down with Ivy since forever. Fuck, since we took her home that night after we claimed her. Since we got on that bus to boot camp. Since we boarded the C-5 and headed to Afghanistan for the first tour. Then the second.
I knew it was the same for Cooper, although it would be harder for him to show it, to express his interest, his hope, and that was why it fell on me to make sure we won her over. Cooper needed her. I needed her, too, but Cooper…hell, he needed something positive in his life. Someone to love and take care of. To see that there was good in the world. Someone who would help him laugh again. That it was okay to laugh again.
I owed him this. Growing up with a deadbeat dad and an alcoholic mom, it was no wonder that I’d wanted to escape Bridgewater. All through high school, I couldn’t wait to get out of my shitty house and Cooper had promised to stay by my side. We’d long since agreed that we’d find a woman together, and Cooper had taken it a step further by enlisting with me even though he had a damn near Norman Rockwell family.
It shouldn’t have ended the way it did. Hearing my best friend had been shot down, that his chopper had crashed in the rugged fucking desert and they weren’t sure if there were any survivors. Rushing to the field hospital to learn the truth, that he’d been the only one to survive, and barely. To be stuck in hell as he was shipped to Germany to recover. To have to finish out the last month of my damn tour before I could join him in DC at the rehab hospital. He was a “brother from another mother.”
