Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook (34 page)

“Not when your dad went after you with a tire iron.”

He flushed.

“I overheard Pete talking.” She shrugged and took his fisted hand in hers, and felt the tension leave him. “Life isn’t fair. At least Nicki will never have to be afraid again. I’ll make sure of that.”

“We’ll make sure of it.” He slipped his arms around her and held her too tight again. Tension and anger flowed through him into her before he relaxed. “We need to talk. Later. But right now, I need to get a new computer. It’s going to take forever just to load the programs I need. Shit.” He let out a frustrated breath. “This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I’m expecting a call from my boat builder at three about a problem.”

“Okay, do you want me to keep Nicki with me at the bar? She’s supposed to have a playdate at Patrice’s this afternoon.”

Storm shook his head. “No, I need to take her with me. I want to make sure she doesn’t think I’m mad at her. I’ll drop her off at Patrice and Francis’s place on the way home.”

“Okay.” Bree looked into his eyes and saw a sadness that stole her breath.

“Nicki’s been hoarding all the money she finds. It’s her emergency stash. I used to do the same thing. Hell, I
still do. I guess old habits die hard. It’s her food money, her escape money, and she offered to give it to me.”

Storm looked as if his heart were breaking, for Nicki and for the little beaten boy he used to be, and he was sharing it with her.

He trusted her, and she didn’t deserve it.

Pete jumped when Bree barged into his office, hair flying, red faced, and near tears. The Bree he knew didn’t cry.

“We gotta talk.”

He slid the cigar he’d been sniffing into his drawer and hoped to hell she didn’t see him. She’d open a can of whoopass on him in a heartbeat, and he really didn’t need that right now, especially since she was already upset. He was man enough to know there was no winning against a pissed-off Irishwoman. “What the hell happened?”

She slammed her hands on his desk, whether to stop herself from falling over it or make a point, he wasn’t sure. “We have to tell Storm. Keeping it from him was a mistake.”

“Take a breath and sit down. What’s the matter?”

Bree looked at him, but it was as if she were somewhere else. “Nicki spilled juice on Storm’s computer and then washed it off in the sink.”

“You gotta be kidding.”

“No, I’m not.” She straightened and turned away. “We have to tell him. I should have told him the second I found out. God, Pete, what kind of monster am I?”

“Monster?” He heaved himself out of his chair, went around his desk, and patted her back. “Bree, you’re a lot of things, but a monster isn’t one of them. You did what you thought was best at the time. We both did.”

“No, I was so afraid Storm would leave, I didn’t want to tell him.”

“It’s not surprising; he’s left before.”

“But not because of Nicki. Storm would never leave his own child. I’m just not so sure he wouldn’t leave me. Especially now. Who would blame him? He trusted me and I didn’t trust him, and to think I might have been keeping him from his own daughter.”

“You haven’t been doing anything of the kind. You know as well as I do that those two are always together; it’s as if they’re connected at the hip. I’ve never seen Storm connect with anyone like that except for you and his brothers.”

“He thinks of Nicki as a little sister. It’s wrong.”

“It might not be, Bree. We don’t know that. We don’t know anything.”

“They love each other. Storm told her if he ever had kids, he’d want them to be just like her.”

Pete felt a smile crack his craggy old face. “Really? Wow. He’s always said he never wanted kids. I wonder what changed his mind. A man who says things like that is thinking about the future.”

“What kind of future will he want when he finds out the woman who supposedly loves him has been keeping such a secret from him?” She threw herself in the chair and pulled her hair off her face. “This whole situation is like a bad movie of the week, the ones you watch and think the heroine is too stupid to live.”

“You’re not stupid; you’re just human. It’s my fault. I
asked you not to tell him. Give yourself a break. Storm will understand.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Pete, he really knows me. He’s going to know I didn’t trust him enough to tell him when I should have.”

“Storm loves you. He’s loved you most of his life.”

“Is love enough, Pete? Am I?”

He hoped to hell it was enough; if it wasn’t, they were all screwed.

 * * *

For Storm, shopping for computers with Nicki was almost as bad as shopping for school supplies. It had been almost a month since they braved Staples, and the flashbacks had only just subsided. He ended up having to put Nicki up on his shoulders, afraid he’d lose her in the crush. He learned a lot that day—mothers on a mission were scary creatures, and spoiled kids were even scarier.

Nicki pulled the bag away from her chest and looked inside as if to check that her prize was still there. “Tell me again why you bought me an iPad?”

He didn’t think guilt for scaring the crap out of her was a good answer even if it was partially true. “So that when I have to go away, we’ll always be able to talk and see each other. Plus, you can play games, listen to music, whatever you want…within reason.” He had also bought one for Bree. If the call he was expecting from the boat builder was bad, he might be leaving sooner than expected.

Nicki stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk; people walked around her. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Storm took her by the hand and led her closer to the building, squatted in front of her, and with his hands on her waist, he looked her right in the eye. “I might be. But,
Nicki, I have to travel for work sometimes. If I don’t do my job, I don’t get paid. But no matter where I go, I’ll always come back, and with your iPad you can use FaceTime and see me whenever you want.”

Nicki squinted her eyes and looked almost angry. “You promise that you’ll come back? No matter what?”

“I promise, and I always keep my word.”

“Can’t me and Bree go with you?”

Storm smiled at the thought of showing them Auckland, of Nicki wearing a little hard hat at the boat builder’s…. “If you and Bree came with me, who would take care of Pop and the bar? Besides, you can’t miss school. Maybe if I have to travel during summer vacation, you can come with me.”

Nicki threw her arms around his neck, her bag flopped against his back, and she held on tight. “But I don’t want you to go.”

Storm picked her up and grabbed his bag. “I don’t want to go either, but I might not have a choice. That’s the bad part of being a grown-up. You have to do stuff you don’t necessarily want to do. I made a promise to the man who paid me to design his boat, and if something is wrong with it, I might have to go down there and figure out where the problem is.”

“You promise to come right home after you fix whatever’s wrong at the stupid boat builder’s?”

“I promise; I’ll always come home to you and Bree.” And he would. Nothing in the world would keep him away from Bree and Nicki.

“Okay.” She smiled and gave him a big smacking kiss on the cheek. “Let’s go to Miss Patrice’s house and show her and the girls my iPad. I’m supposed to have a playdate with them anyway.”

“Sounds good. I told Bree I’d drop you off when we finished shopping. You’ll have a lot more fun over there. I’ll be stuck in my room for the rest of the day on a call and doing computer stuff.”

“You won’t leave before I get home, will you?”

“I’m not even sure I have to go.” But he had a bad feeling about it all the same. “I’ll tell you what, if I have to go, I promise to stop by Patrice and Francis’s to say good-bye. How’s that sound?”

“Okay.”

Storm put her down and took her little hand in his as they made their way to Pop’s car. If he was going to be spending more time in Red Hook, he’d have to buy a car, because he sure as shit wasn’t going to be tooling around in Bree’s little windup toy. He and Bree would also need a bigger place to live. Yup, they definitely needed to talk. Right after he found out what the hell was going on with his Class 40.

 * * *

Bree left her office when she heard Pete’s bark of laughter and found Pete and his cronies bellied up to the bar. She slid under the pass-through and grabbed Pete’s whiskey, then tossed the contents into the sink.

“Aw, Bree.”

“Don’t ‘aw, Bree’ me. You heard the doctors. No booze yet.” She set a seltzer in front of him and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me kick you out of my bar.”

“As if you could.” Pete sounded more like a ten-year-old than a middle-aged man with a heart condition.

“It would be a piece of cake if Storm and I helped her.”

The deep bass baritone voice had all the hair on the back of Bree’s neck standing straight up. “Logan!” She
was part ecstatic and part horrified. She wasn’t ready for Logan to come home. Not yet. It was too soon.

Logan tossed a piece of very expensive luggage on the floor and grabbed Pete in a bear hug. “How you doin’, Pop?”

“Happy to be alive and getting better every day.”

Bree ran around the bar and hugged Logan as soon as he let go of Pete. “Why didn’t you call and let us know you were on your way?” She held him at arm’s length and looked him over. His ink black hair was styled within an inch of its life. “Are you using hair gel?”

 * * *

Entering the bar through the kitchen, Storm stopped short at the sight of Bree in the arms of a tall, dark-haired man. He’d never been the possessive type, but then he’d never been in love before either. He saw red until he realized the man in question was Logan. He wasn’t sure what surprised him more—that Logan had suddenly appeared or that he used hair gel. His damn brother still hadn’t let go of Bree, and Storm bit down on the urge to pummel him.

He caught Logan’s eye roll, but even his tanned olive skin didn’t hide the pink around his chiseled cheekbones. Leave it to Breezy to put Logan in his place with the hair gel crack. The small diamond in his ear gave him a piratelike quality, which contrasted with the expensive look of his clothes. Logan might be wearing jeans, but they were a far cry from 501s.

Storm never saw any of his brothers as a threat before, but he figured any woman—even Bree—would think Logan was really good-looking if she was into the exceptionally tall and lanky. Storm let out a breath of relief when Logan released her.

“The crush is over at the vineyard, so I caught the first flight out. I thought you were in a hurry to get rid of someone.”

The man looked like Logan, but he certainly didn’t sound like him. Gone was the Brooklyn boy, and in his place was a cultured man with a strange accent. Storm planned to flatten his big brother for that last crack as soon as they were alone together.

Bree shook her head. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“Lucky for me. I heard you hit Storm with a frying pan. Way to go, Bree.” Logan high-fived her, which just increased the urge to pummel him. “Storm saw stars, and not just because it was his first glimpse of you in a long time.”

Storm was just about to make his presence known when Bree’s face flamed.

“I thought he was a burglar.”

It didn’t escape Storm that she had yet to mention their relationship to Logan.

The corner of Logan’s mouth quirked up in a wry grin. “Lucky for him. If you knew who it was, you’d have killed him. Speaking of Storm, where is he?”

“Computer shopping. There was a little accident this morning involving orange juice and his laptop. The laptop didn’t make it.” Bree took his brother’s hand and gave it a tug. “Logan, why don’t you come upstairs and bring your things.” Bree caught Pete’s eye and widened hers.

“I don’t even get a beer?”

“Not now, Logan. We need to talk.”

Bree was nervous about something. Storm looked around the quiet bar—nothing was amiss, and Simon had everything under control. He couldn’t imagine what she was worked up over.

Logan cocked his head. “Problem?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Bree shrugged. “Pete and I have to talk to you and Storm in private. He should be home soon.”

“Sounds serious.”

No shit. Logan must have sensed her tension—there was no sign of his normal teasing tone. A feeling of dread crawled its way up Storm’s spine and clawed the back of his neck. He stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Did I hear my name mentioned? Hey, Logan, welcome home.” He pulled his brother into his arms and slapped him hard on the back.

Bree’s face lost all color when she turned to face him. She pasted on a fake smile, as if she’d just been caught doing something bad. Really bad. Other than hugging his brother, which, as much as he’d like it to be, was not against the rules, he couldn’t imagine what caused the look of guilt that ping-ponged across her face.

Storm waited for her to come to him and give him a hug—anything. She didn’t move. Had she found out he was leaving?

“It’s good you’re home. Let’s go upstairs where we can talk.” She might have said it was good, but the look of dread on her face belied her words. She wasn’t happy about something, and that was putting it mildly. He hadn’t seen her this nervous since he pulled her off the counter after she met D.O.G. the first time.

As soon as they entered the apartment, Logan dropped his bag and put his hands on his hips. “What’s going on, Bree?” He looked at Pop, who was winded and coughing but otherwise looked almost normal. “Pop, are you all right?”

Pete sank into his recliner. “I’m fine. This is about Nicki.”

“The kid you took in?”

Storm stood beside Logan and mirrored his pose. “What about Nicki? Is she okay?”

Bree cut in. “Yes, she’s fine.”

Logan shot him a confused look. “Nicki’s the kid, right?”

Storm wanted to pummel him again. Nicki wasn’t just a kid. “Nicki’s a little girl. A ten-and-a-half-year-old little girl.”

Bree didn’t come near him. She didn’t look at him. She just sank onto the couch, hugged her legs to her chest, and rested her chin on her knees.

“So?” Logan stood, feet shoulder-width apart, rolling on the balls of his feet as if he expected an attack. Storm didn’t blame him.