Take the Fall (Take the Fall, #1)(44)

With each passing day, it’s getting harder and harder to resist him, and easier to trust him. For more than a month, he’s kept his word and come home to me each weekend.

“Hi, Seth,” I say as he walks completely past me, like I’m not standing there.

He throws his duffel bag onto the floor beside the recliner and then plops down in it, kicking up the footrest. “Bring me a beer, will ya, babe?”

“Okay.” I move to the kitchen and grab a beer from the selection of our favorites. I pop off the cap with a bottle opener and walk to him. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” He clicks through the stations and settles on a football game. “Holy shit. Did you see that play?”

“Yeah, but Franklin is going to get a—”

“Ten to one he gets a flag. Oh, you’ll take that bet?”

Nose wrinkling, I look at Seth. He’s talking on the phone. I cross my arms over my chest and settle down into the sofa. Such bullshit.

—

I like football games. I like watching them, either live at the Carolina Panthers’ stadium or with a group of friends at the bar. But after an eternity of Seth shouting at the screen and requesting more food and beer, I’m about to lose my mind.

“Shit, baby. This popcorn is burned to hell and back. Make me some more.” He laughs into the phone. “Right? She can overhaul an engine but can’t cook worth shit.” He mouths “Just kidding” to me, then nods at the bowl.

Jaw locking in place, I take the bowl from him…and dump the contents on his head. He jumps up, wiping at his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

I throw the plastic bowl at the recliner. It bounces harmlessly past him. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve barely spoken to me, or even know I’m here. I’m just your servant,” I spit out, “while you’re talking to some * I don’t even know on the phone.”

His entire demeanor changes. Gone is the cocky son of a bitch who pissed me off and in his place stands the man I’ve come to expect to show up every Friday afternoon. “Sucks, doesn’t it, Rowan? Sucks to be treated like you’re nothing—just here to answer to someone’s beck and call.”

“What?”

“You couldn’t put up with me acting exactly like you for thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. I’ve been doing this for more than a month without fail. I’ve put up with your silence and your demands.”

“You were talking crap about me to your friend,” I say, grasping at straws because I realize he’s right. Maybe I can turn this on him, and I won’t feel so bad.

He shakes his head. “It was just an act. Check my phone if you don’t believe me.”

My feet are glued to the floor. I can’t move. “I don’t—” I swallow. Apologize, Rowan. He’s right. Apologize and promise to be better. He deserves it.

But twenty-three years of abandonment stand in my way. I’ve been left alone by my father, my mother, my brother, and the boy I love. Only the boy I love came back as a man, demanding to stay in my life.

“No more, Rowan. I’m done.” He glances at his shirt and yanks it up and over his head, treating me to his hard body. His dog tags fall down against his chest and my eyes go right to it, then lower to his abs. The man has an actual eight-pack. Something most of the guys I know can only dream about because they’re too busy drinking and smoking to do more than walk from the living room to the kitchen when they’re hungry.

“Grease stains are a bitch to get out,” he mutters.

I hold out my hand. “I’ll take care of it.”

His gaze slices to me. “I don’t expect you to do laundry for me.”

“You also didn’t expect me to pour buttered popcorn all over you, either,” I point out. It’s not an apology but I’m working up to it. Reaching down, I take his bag. “Anything else you got in here to wash?”

“No.” He runs a hand over his face. “I can’t do this.”

My heart slams against my chest. “Can’t do what?”

His phone actually rings. “Shit. That’s my commander. I have to answer.” Answering the phone, he unzips his duffel while I hold it, and yanks out a pullover. A pack of papers falls to the floor, but he doesn’t see them. “This might be awhile,” he says, his black brows furrowing as he walks toward the front door. “Yes, sir, but I flew that course two days ago and saw nothing that would indicate—”

He shuts the door behind him. Bending down, I grab his papers and attempt to put them back together. The words transfer and Hawaii capture my attention. Slowly, I start from the beginning and read over everything. He is supposed to report to Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii, in three weeks.

There’s no way I’d have enough time to make a decision about this. Then again, he never told me about Hawaii. He never told me anything at all.

Moisture splashes onto the black ink, but the words barely discolor. “How could he do this to me? Again.” More water falls, and I stupidly look up at the ceiling to see if it’s leaking. Tears run from the corners of my eyes, hot and numerous.

The front door opens and closes again. “Rowan?” Seth rushes to me, taking me in his arms. “Shit. You’re crying. Look, I’m sorry. I only wanted to prove a point and took things too far.”