Page 43 of Playing with Desire
And the longer it took for the two men to enter the house, the more her unease grew. She paced the length of the living room anxiously, and when Declan finally walked in, followed by Rick a few feet behind him, her heart fluttered wildly in her chest, a wealth of emotion overwhelming her. She might have tried to bury her feelings for him, but there was no doubt that she still loved this man, even if she had no clue how he felt about her.
He stopped abruptly just inside of the living room, holding his duffle bag, his body rigid and animosity flaring in the depths of his eyes before it was snuffed out by a forced indifference. While his aloof attitude hurt, Summer didn’t let his cool disposition deter her. She was so overjoyed to see that he was okay, at least physically, that she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him.
She hugged him despite his stiff stance, because she needed this tangible proof that he was alive and really, truly okay. She breathed in his scent, let his warmth suffuse every part of her being, and there was nothing she could do to stop the instantaneous desire that made itself known and told her just how much she belonged to him. He placed his hand lightly on her back, and she reveled in that brief touch, because it was more than she’d expected from Declan right now.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered.
When she stepped back and looked up at his gorgeous face, the guarded look slashing across his features made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for small talk, considering Rick had no doubt given him a lot to digest. And even though she hated how withdrawn he was, Summer knew she had to respect the timeheneeded to process the news he’d just been delivered. She could only hope that the anger would dissipate so the two of them could talk at some point, too.
“Would you like some dinner?” she asked instead, hopefully appealing to his appetite to alleviate some of the tension between all three of them. “I can heat up some meatloaf and potatoes.”
“I’m good,” he said, shifting on his feet. “In fact, I’m tired from traveling all day, so I’m going to take a shower and get some sleep.”
He walked away, and there was no denying the ache in her chest as she watched him disappear into his room and close the door behind him. She glanced back at Rick, who was still there, and he must have seen the devastation written across her face, because his expression softened with compassion.
“Give him time and space,” he said gently. “Declan’s been through a lot, having been shot and having to deal with some important decisions he needs to make... and us.”
She shook her head. “There is no us.”
A half smile quirked his lips. “I know that, and you know that. But I was honest with him about our night at the club, and he didn’t take it well.”
Frustration tightened her throat. On one hand, she understood that Declan might be shocked by the news. But on the other, he had no right to be angry with her for something he’d encouraged. “Does he expect me to remain a nun?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm from her tone.
Rick braced his hands on his hips. “Probably. But that’s his issue to work through, not yours.”
She exhaled a deep breath in hopes of releasing the myriad of emotions she’d put herself through the past hour. “How long is he home for?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a few weeks.” Rick ran a hand through his hair, making the thick strands stand on end. “He told me on the way home that the bullet that went through his shoulder caused some permanent nerve damage. It was bad enough that he was relieved of the Special Forces unit he’s been a part of for years. Now, he’s looking at accepting an administrative job with the military or taking a medical discharge and early retirement.”
She sucked in a breath, shock rippling through her. “Oh, wow. I can’t imagine how difficult of a decision that has to be for him.”
“Exactly.” Rick’s tone was grim. “So, yeah, he’s got a lot on his plate right now, and I think we just need to give him space. I know Declan well enough that I’m certain he’ll eventually calm down and come around, and the two of you can discuss everything.”
She smiled at that. Hopefully, with her being in the house, he wouldn’t be able to avoid her for long.
Declan stepped intothe shower and under the hot spray of water, trying to deal with the range of emotions he’d been dealt in the past hour. It was one thing for him to struggle to come to terms with having his career ripped out from under him and another to learn that Rick and Summer had been intimate in the time he’d been gone.
Was he royally pissed off? Yeah. Did he have a right to be bitter and angry? His lips pursed as that answer took him a bit longer to acknowledge, and even though he wanted to sayno, he wasn’t ready to admit that he’d been responsible for putting Summer in that position with his own actions five months ago.
But Rick... another surge of resentment gripped him, because he’d asked his stepbrother to watch over her, not fuck her, even though a part of him knew that Rick had feelings for Summer.
But this evening, walking into the house and seeing Summer again, and the hopeful way she’d looked at him, had made his heart pound radically in his chest. Fuck, he’d missed her so much. The affectionate, caring way she’d hugged him had provided a brief reprieve from his problems, until he’d squashed her attempt to extend some kind of olive branch with his surly attitude.
Nice going, asshole.
Groaning at the confusion swirling inside him, he passed his soapy hand across his chest, then slid his fingers along the puckered skin at his right shoulder where he’d been shot. Such a small scar that had cost him so fucking much.
And it was his own damn fault. While out on a mission, he’d been scoping out a terrorist compound with his unit, with long hours passing with no movement. It wasn’t the first time he’d filled the weariness and boredom with thoughts of Summer and what he’d given up. What he’d possibly lost forever. He’d never been tempted to break his own rules about women and commitment while in the military until Summer, and that knowledge had thrown him for a loop.
He’d considered calling her, just to check on Summer and hear her voice. Just to see if he’d fucked up the best thing that had ever happened to him and no longer stood a chance. And it was during those meandering thoughts out in the hot sun that all hell had broken loose. The next thing he knew, grenades were landing nearby in ground-shaking explosions, shots were being fired in rapid succession from the compound, and while scrambling for complete cover, Declan had felt the burning, ripping of flesh at his shoulder—and had ignored the searing pain in order to return fire and protect his team any way he could.
During those chaotic minutes, the leader of the terrorist group had been whisked away, and Declan’s unit had been forced to retreat. On the drive back to base with a few of the men trying to nurse their own injuries, Declan had felt consumed with guilt, because he’d been distracted and should have seen the attack coming. He’d been so damn grateful that everyone in his unit had gotten out alive and with minimal bodily damage.
And as for the wound Declan had sustained, it hadn’t been life-threatening. Just career ending. A devastating blow to someone who’d felt so invincible out there on various assignments.
Having been released from the Special Forces, he felt stripped of what he believed was his purpose in life. Lost and adrift and not sure what his future looked like. Furious at himself for possibly jeopardizing the mission. And now, angry at what he’d come home to with Rick and Summer.
He closed his eyes and hung his head beneath the shower spray, unsure what decision to make when he was so barraged with a dozen different emotions. All he knew was that he wasn’t ready to deal with either Summer or Rick, and he wasn’t sure when he would be.
