Fixed (Flawed Love Book 2) Read online

  Oh man, I really am drunk.

  “Fuck it,” I think out loud before I make my way to my room. This is the only perk of being alone here for a few days. There's no one to judge me if I decide to stay in pajamas eating takeout and drinking wine all weekend. There’s also no one to judge me or my not so youthful anymore body if I decide to stroll downstairs butt naked at three in the afternoon.

  It’s actually quite freeing. Since the girls, I’ve struggled with my self-image. Carrying two good sized babies to almost full term does terrible things to a woman's body. No amount of gym and Pilates is ever going to fix the mess that is my stomach and thighs, much to my chagrin. And even more to Pete’s, obviously.

  “I bet Amber’s thighs don’t jiggle,” I mutter to myself as I pad down the stairs. In fact, I know they don’t. I saw enough of them in Pete’s office to know that she’s tone in the places that matter to my husband. Ex-husband?

  What the fuck ever.

  Deciding that my wayward thoughts need to shut the fuck up, I detour to the fridge for more wine, completely forgetting that I still haven’t grabbed a robe or a towel to cover my ass up. Yanking the door open, the frigid air biting at my skin causes me to let out a startled yelp.

  “Holy shit that’s cold!” I mutter as I lean in to get the wine that I stored in the back away from the girls.

  “I think that’s the point of a refrigerator, sweetheart.”

  The deep, gravelly voice sounding from the direction of the front door makes me jump out of my skin, causing me to whack my head on the internal shelf. The clang of my teeth crashing together also causes me to drop the wine and let go of the door that has, until that moment, been hiding my naked body. Not even the shatter of glass on the floor is loud enough to distract me from the complete and utter mortification I feel at being caught in all my drunk, naked glory by the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

  Duke Nash.

  Shutting off the engine of my Harley, I wait for the inevitable riot in my head. They don’t come like they usually do. Maybe being on the open road for the four days it took to get here will keep them quite a while longer. Swinging my leg over the bike, I stretch out my cramped muscles. I probably shouldn’t have ridden so many hours straight, but I couldn’t wait to put as many miles between me and Arizona.

  I haven’t even gotten the keys out of the ignition when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I don’t need to look at it to know it’s not a call I want to answer. Not now, not ever again.

  Finding the spare key on my keyring, I let myself into the house. As much as I hate that my baby sister is shacked up with that dickhead she married, I’m glad her old place is empty, and I don’t have to deal with the headache of looking for a place to stay for a while yet. Dumping my bag on the couch, I pull my phone out of my pocket debating with myself over whether to text her and tell her I'm here, or to just surprise her somehow later. I didn’t tell her I was coming, and she’ll be shocked as shit to learn that I'm here to stay. I’m out of the Army. Fuck. That still feels weird.

  When I'd signed up, I’d planned to stay just long enough for me to work out what the hell I wanted to do with my life. No one was more surprised than me to find that I actually loved it. Being a soldier first then a Ranger gave me something I didn’t realize I had been looking for.

  A purpose.

  These last few years have been tough though. When Poppy was moving from city to city, it was easier to stay overseas for long periods of time. Now that she’s here, back home in Savannah, settled with a kid on the way. I’ve been restless. I want to be around when my niece or nephew arrives. Poppy and I raised ourselves when our mom mentally checked out on us, and it didn’t sit well with me that she was getting married and popping out a baby without me. She’s settled and happy with her husband now, but there was a time when he hurt her. Broke who she was as a person. There’s a part of me that wants to be here in case he ever fucks up again.

  I decide to wait a minute before calling her. I know she’ll be here in a heartbeat and right now, I could use a hot shower and a cold beer. God, I hope there’s still a few left in the fridge from the last time I was here.

  Passing through the doorway to the kitchen, I’m surprised to see the fridge door open and the top of a blonde head peeking out over the top. A very pretty blonde head that’s muttering to itself. I’ve no idea what my sister’s best friend, Elliott, is doing here, and when I hear her talking to herself about being cold, I can’t help the smartass comment that leaves my lips.

  “I think that’s the point of a refrigerator, sweetheart.”

  The door swings shut, and to say I’m stunned to see she’s butt naked behind there would be a gross understatement. I think my jaw hits the floor almost as hard as her head hits the shelf. The last thing I expected when I walked in here was to see every inch of her beautiful body.

  It feels like an age that I stand there and stare at her, mesmerized by the smooth flesh on show, but in reality, it’s just a few seconds before the sound of glass shattering brings me back to earth. Those few seconds are ample time to commit the scene to memory though. Seeing the broken glass right next to Elliott’s bare feet snaps me out of it and gets me moving in her direction.

  “What are you doing?” she yells, trying to cover as much of herself as she can with just her hands. Thankfully for me, she can’t cover much. Jesus, I sound like a pervert. “Just don’t move, you’ll cut your feet.”

  Making it to her in a few strides, I watch her face flame red in embarrassment. Feeling like a creep because I’ve been staring at her nakedness all this time, I try my damned hardest to keep my eyes trained on her face as I gently slide one arm behind her back, the other under her thighs. Lifting her against my chest, I give into the insane urge that grips me and look down at her. Cradled against my chest she looks so fucking small. The blush she’s sporting across her cheeks has spread down across her chest, disappearing underneath where our arms are trying to protect her modesty. I need to put her down before she realizes I'm sporting the most inappropriate hard on I've ever had. Dropping her to her feet far away from the glass shards, I quickly turn around, finally giving her some privacy.

  “Go get yourself sorted, and I’ll clean this up.” My voice sounds like I’ve been chewing gravel. Not waiting for her to answer, I move away from her. I don’t miss her strangled, “Thank you,” as she turns and scurries away from me, yanking a throw off the chair as she passes.

  Dropping down to pick up the worst of the glass, I take a minute to get my pulse under control. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to fight back the image of naked Elliot that springs straight up. Her husband might be a piece of shit, but she’s a married woman.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  By the time I’ve gotten everything cleaned up, Elliott still hasn’t come back downstairs. When I lifted her up earlier, I could smell the faint trace of wine on her breath, and now I'm terrified she’s passed out up there. Fixing her a strong coffee, I make my way up the stairs. I have no idea why she’s here, but I'm assuming she’s in Poppy’s old room. The one I sleep in when I'm here.

  Knocking gently on the door, I hold my breath as I wait for a reply. Just as I'm about to leave, I hear the door click open. It barely moves a few inches when I see Elliott peeking out. “Hey, I’m so sorry for walking in on you like that,” I say, holding up the coffee mug toward her. She looks at me with quiet, assessing eyes. Eyes I'm not used to seeing from her. She’s usually full of fire and life. After a beat of silence, she opens the door a little wider, moving to take the mug I'm still holding out.

  Taking a long sip, she continues her quiet assessment of me. Her clear blue eyes hold mine until she drops the mug from her mouth. “Is there any chance at all that what just happened downstairs is all a figment of my imagination?” I try to fight the smile that tugs at my lips, but it’s impossible to keep that shit contained. When she sees me struggling not to laugh, her own giggle breaks free.

  Before I know it, her small giggle has erupted into all-out laughter. It’s so infectious I can’t help but join her.

  “So the girls and I have been staying here ever since.”

  I’ve just finished explaining to Duke all the crap he’s missed since he left after Poppy’s wedding a few months previously. I told him about walking into Pete’s office and finding him with Amber. I told him about the days after, how hard it’s been. It feels good to unload some of it. I’ve probably told him too much, but I just couldn’t stop the words once they started.

  When he walked in on me in the kitchen, I'm sorely disappointed to admit that I didn’t, in fact, have the ability to merely will the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Just thinking of the poor guy being subjected to my fat ass being on display is almost enough to make my insides shrivel up and die with embarrassment.

  I’m such an idiot.

  We’ve been sitting out on the back deck for the last hour drinking coffee; my wine buzz has long since worn off. Duke and I are sitting side by side in loungers with our feet against the deck rails. I love it out here. The warm Savannah evenings mean the girls and I spend most of our time out here. “Your turn. What brings you back here?” I ask without turning to look at him. He’s been quiet while I’ve been spilling my story out. There were a few times he grunted in response to something I said, and when I told him about catching Pete with Amber, his knuckles turned white around the neck of his beer bottle, and he offered up a murmured “fuck” once or twice.

  I can’t look him in the eye right now. I can’t bear to see the pity that everyone looks at me with these days. Especially not from Duke. He’s the most put together person I know. While I feel like I’m mostly winging my way through life these days, Duke has always had his shit together. He’s silent for a while after my question, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Taking advantage of the quiet, I let the stillness of the evening wash over me. The last of the lingering daylight is rapidly being pushed away by the approaching night. There’s something soothing about the darkness. It's easier to sit here and expose some of my insecurities when the sun is going down.

  Hearing Duke let out a soft sigh, I let my head roll toward him. Taking in his profile, barely lit by the low light filtering out from the house behind us, I have to tamp down the urge to let out a sigh of my own. He’s so freaking handsome. Dark brown hair that’s just starting to grow out of its usual military buzz cut. I can’t see them, but I know his eyes are a deep mossy green. His face always carries a certain intensity to it. My eyes catch on his lips, watching as his tongue darts out to lick over the bottom one before he speaks.

  Oh yes, I have a crush on my best friend’s big brother.

  “It was just time.” His voice is quiet yet seems to reverberate through the still air. When he turns to look at me fully, I see there’s more he isn’t saying. I recognize the internal chaos swirling in his eyes. It mirrors my own. Deciding not to push any further, I smile at him instead.

  “Poppy is going to lose her mind when she knows you’re here for good.”

  “I couldn’t let my baby sister have her first kid on her own, El,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Duke, she is not alone, and you know it,” I reply on an eye roll.

  “Yeah, well, I’m not taking any chances. It's not like Keir has the best track record now, is it?” This guy. He knows damn well and good that Keir loves his sister more than anything.

  “Are you still pretending that you hate Keir?” When he doesn’t answer, I reach over to gently touch his arm. There’s an undeniable zing that passes through me at the contact. I could be imaging it, but I think he feels it too when he looks down at my hand. Swallowing deeply, I do my best to ignore the fact that I feel that damn zing everywhere. “She’s fine. Better than fine. She’s happy, Duke. So fucking happy it makes me sick sometimes.” We both laugh softly, and I'm thrilled to see some of the tension leave his shoulders.

  “I know. It’s just hard, you know? She's all the family I have.”

  I can’t pretend to understand how it was for them growing up. For all her faults, my mom always made sure we knew we were loved. She was there for us all, right up until she died. Duke grew up with a mother who mentally checked out on when her children were barely old enough to look after themselves. She might have made sure there was a roof over their heads and clothes on their backs, but there was no love and affection. No hugs and kisses. No help with homework or shoulder to cry on as they learned to navigate growing up. For the longest time it was just Duke looking after Poppy, even though he is only a few years older. Giving me another sad smile, Duke stands from his seat, stretching. The well-worn Henley he’s wearing rides up an inch, showing his toned stomach and the tiniest hint of ink. My fingers burn to reach out and touch him. To push the shirt up further so I can explore what’s underneath.

  Damn, maybe I'm still a little drunk after all. Before I can do something stupid, I rip my gaze away from him.

  “I’ll get going, four days on my bike have taken a toll on me. I need a bed ASAP.” He laughs as he walks into the house. Following him inside, he picks up his jacket and keys, before moving toward the front door. Assuming he’s going to get his stuff from his bike, I pick up some of the girls’ toys that are still all over the place.

  “Do me a favor, El. Don’t tell Pop I'm here yet. I want to surprise her tomorrow.” Looking up to answer him, I see he’s got his jacket on as if he’s leaving.

  “Where the heck do you think you’re going?” I feel my brows knit in confusion. Duke always stays here when he’s in town.

  “I didn’t know you were saying here. I wouldn’t have come here if I did. I’ll go crash with one of the guys. I already texted to make sure he’s good with it.” He shakes his phone at me.

  “You’ll do no such thing!” I exclaim. This is his home, and this is where he’ll stay. Poppy would be sad if he felt he had to go sofa surf. Good one, Elliott, keep telling yourself you’re making this offer for Poppy’s sake, I scoff internally at myself.

  “There’s tons of room here. The girls are sharing so the third room is free. Stay. Please.”

  He looks conflicted. “Stay. Please,” I repeat.

  I’m not sure which of us is more surprised when he answers, “Okay.”

  What the hell am I doing?

  I ask myself for the hundredth time as I try to get comfortable in this ridiculously small bed. I’ve been tossing and turning for the last few hours, and now I can see the sun starting to rise through the slightly open blinds.

  I shouldn’t have stayed here. This was only ever going to be a short-term place for me to crash while I get myself settled, and there’s no reason I can’t do that while I crash at one of the guys’ places instead.

  After another hour of no sleep, I give up and get out of bed, groaning as my bones ache in protest at my stretching. I feel old. Thirty-five-years-old, but fifteen years active service has my body adding at least ten years on to that. Just one of the many reasons why I quit.

  I wasn’t lying when I said it was to be here for Poppy, but I’m doing it for myself just as much. I need this fresh start.

  Once I’m showered and dressed, I make my way downstairs, surprised to smell coffee in the air. When I make it into the kitchen, I'm even more surprised to see a sleep-rumbled Elliott staring blindly out of the back doors with her coffee cup clutched close to her chest. Her hair is a wild mess that looks like someone has had their hands in it all night. She’s wearing a shirt that looks suspiciously like one I left here last time I stayed, and from here it looks like she’s not wearing anything else under it. Shit, seeing her like this is almost worse than seeing her naked before. As my eyes wander slowly down her body, I almost choke when I get to the over-the-knee socks she’s wearing. Fuck. My dick twitches behind my zipper as I imagine her long legs wrapped around me in those fucking socks.

  This.

  This is why I can’t stay here. I can’t stop myself from seeing her standing naked in front of me. Can’t stop imagining what’s under my shirt she’s wearing. She doesn’t need that shit from me while she’s trying to get over her husband.

  Just thinking of the shit she told me last night, the way that dick treated her makes me want to go find him and choke him with one of his stupid fucking neckties he always wears. Elliott is easily one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. More than that, she’s also a sweetheart. The first time I met her, I was attracted to her. Didn’t matter that she was eighteen and just starting college. I wanted her. Seeing how quickly Poppy grew attached to her, how quickly they became best friends, that was the only thing that stopped me. I knew even then that Elliott was meant for better things than I could have ever given her. I also knew that I’d never do anything to jeopardize the relationship between her and my sister.

  Instead, I treated her like another little sister. Kept her at arm's length, even when all I wanted to do was make her mine. Even now, it doesn’t matter how I feel about her. Last night I listened to her speak about her problems with such sadness in her voice. A sadness I’d do just about anything to take away. She might not have said the words, but I heard it loud and clear anyway. She still loves him.

  “Morning.” Her raspy voice does nothing to deflate the semi I’ve been sporting since I walked in here. Taking a deep breath and praying she’s too sleepy to notice it, I make my way to the coffee pot. After I’ve got my mug, I move to stand opposite her.

  “You’re up early. It’s barely past six am.” I try to smile at her, but I'm sure it looks more like a grimace. I’m not good at small talk.

  “It’s hard to sleep without the girls here. I’m still not used to it.” She shrugs, playing off how she feels like it’s nothing.