Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
T
ripp made the turn onto his street while Willow finished her phone call with her parents in the passenger seat.
“Okay, love you guys too. I’ll talk to you soon. Yes, I’ll say hi to him. And Rufus. You’ll love him when you meet him. Bye.”
“Sorry about that,” Willow said after ending the call as he drove them back up to his house. “My parents say hi.”
“How are they?” he asked. He hadn’t seen them in years but had always liked them.
“Okay. Not too happy about what’s going on here, but they’re really glad I’m with you.”
He shifted his grip on the steering wheel, trying to ignore the stab of guilt. “That’s good.”
“Yeah. It was a big relief for them. They might come out in a few weeks to visit.”
It would be the first time he’d seen them face to face since Syria. “You don’t sound very excited about that.”
“No, of course I want to see them. It’s just...my mom can kind of get to me. She hasn’t been the same since Peyton died.”
“That’s understandable.” And then tomorrow was a tough day for all of them. Him included. For entirely different reasons.
“I know.”
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel, that familiar heaviness settling in his chest and spreading down into his gut. You have to tell her...
But he couldn’t. Not right now, not with everything else going on. He needed to wait until things calmed down and Willow wasn’t in any more danger.
It also couldn’t happen while she was staying here. Because if she ended up leaving, he wouldn’t be able to keep her safe. There was no way he would let that happen.
“Anything from your dad?” she asked, thankfully changing the subject. “Rufus is still behaving himself?”
“No news is good news.” After what they’d uncovered so far.
“I can’t wait to see him. I feel like an anxious mom.”
He smiled. “He’s definitely your baby. That is one lucky dog, and he adores you.” Tripp could relate.
She was quiet a moment. “My mom said the last of my stuff finally arrived from New York.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes. I don’t even know if I’ll even keep any of it. Just glad that part of my life is finally all finished and I don’t have to have contact with my ex ever again.”
“Why’d you guys break up?” He asked before he could stop himself. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
“No, I don’t mind, it doesn’t upset me anymore. Just makes me sad that I wasted so much time on a relationship that had died at least a year before it finally ended.”
She’d stayed for a year in a dead relationship where she didn’t feel loved? Jesus, he hated thinking about it. She deserved so much better. Deserved to be happy, and to be with someone who loved and appreciated her.
Like him.
He waited, hoping she would keep talking. To distract him from his feelings and thoughts as much as to relieve his curiosity about the dipshit she’d finally dumped.
“The short answer is, we fell out of love with each other. Him first. Which I still find incredibly ironic, since he came on hard and fast in the beginning to win me over.”
“In what way?”
“He love bombed me for months when we first got together. Big romantic gestures, constantly showering me with attention and compliments. What woman wouldn’t love that, right? I didn’t realize back then that it was a big red flag. But then...I dunno, he gradually got bored and lost interest in me.”
Tripp couldn’t imagine it. Bored with Willow? You gotta be fucking kidding. He’d give anything for her to love him back. For the chance to share his life with her. Be there for her. Make her feel secure and valued. Loved.
Anything but tell her the truth, right?
“He wasn’t interested in what I was doing at work or for hobbies.
Wasn’t interested in what I thought. What I felt.
He didn’t find my sense of humor funny anymore.
Didn’t much seem to like anything about me toward the end to be honest. We were living like roommates for that last year.
And somewhere along the line, I decided I didn’t like him much anymore either. ”
What a fucking loser. How could he have treated her like that? “He didn’t deserve you.” Obviously didn’t appreciate how amazing, kind, and talented she was. “I’m glad you realized that.”
She gave him a soft smile that made his heart squeeze. “Thanks. That’s sweet.”
“It’s the truth.” If she were his, he would treasure her. Worship her, in bed and out.
Which made the looming problem of what he had to tell her that much harder.
He parked in front of the house and got out as his dad appeared on the front porch with Rufus, who was wagging his tail. “Hi, guys.”
“Was he good?” Willow asked.
“He was a very good boy. Weren’t you, Rufus?” He petted the dog’s head. “A bit skittish for the first couple hours, then decided I wasn’t so bad. And he loved his walk.”
“Thank you so much for watching him.” She hurried up the porch steps to kneel down and greet the dog, getting a wet kiss on her nose.
“It was my pleasure. Everything go okay in town?”
“Well...” She looked back at Tripp.
“Not exactly.”
His dad’s expression sobered. “Oh?”
Tripp quickly ran through everything. “You know anyone involved with the militia?”
“Yeah, I know a couple guys. Retired military. I golf with them. They don’t seem like the kind of people to be involved with anything criminal.”
“Let’s hope you’re right. Rafe’s going to let us know what he finds out.”
“That’s good. Have you both eaten? I’ve got some bolognaise still on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“We grabbed something before leaving town.”
“Okay. I fed Rufus too.”
“Thank you,” Willow said. “I bet you’re ready for a nice walkies now, huh?”
Rufus’s ears perked up and he trotted toward her.
“Yeah? Walkies?”
He did an excited little tippy tap on the porch, his nails clicking on the planks.
“Hold still.” Willow snickered, grabbed a leash and clipped it to his collar. “He’s like one of those Irish dancers in Riverdance.”
“But a lot hairier,” Tripp’s dad said, and Willow laughed, the bright, happy sound so carefree and natural Tripp felt the knot in his chest loosen.
“I’ll go with you,” he said to Willow and fell in step beside her as they walked down the driveway.
“Where should we go?”
The sky was a mix of blue and purple, the moon just starting to rise through the trees. “There’s a path near the end of the driveway that loops around back through the woods.”
“And no caches up here to worry about stumbling upon, so bonus.”
“Exactly.”
The dense forest swallowed them as they walked farther away from the entrance. They walked side by side, Rufus a little ways out front at the end of his leash, sniffing at whatever he found interesting.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful up here,” Willow said softly. “I can see why you love it so much.”
“I like the quiet, but mostly it’s the space I love. And this property was big enough to build my workshop next to the house.”
She stepped closer, looped her arm through his. “I’m really glad I’m here. I feel way safer up here with you.”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t, the words he needed to say sticking in his throat. The truth was, he didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t want to lose her before he’d even had the chance to make her his.
Not gonna happen, buddy. You gotta let that shit go already.
Except it wasn’t that simple. Willow had stolen his heart when he was just a kid. To lose her now was unthinkable.
They didn’t talk much for the rest of the walk. He wrestled the voice in his head into submission, focused on Willow and the simple peace and joy that spending time with her like this brought.
But he couldn’t stem the need to keep scanning the forest as they moved through it, the protective part of him aware that someone might be watching her.
Rufus paused a couple of times, ears cocked, but didn’t growl as if alerting to a threat. More like he had caught a scent or heard something moving around the forest.
All too soon they’d reached the edge of the path and emerged at the side of his property. “Home sweet home,” he murmured.
“Yes.” She waited a moment, then slid her arm free of his and took Rufus up to the side door. After slipping off her shoes and Rufus’s leash, she walked into the kitchen and stopped to face him. “Is there someone else?”
The blunt question threw him. “No.”
She stared at him, waited a few beats, then continued when he didn’t say anything else. “You’ve taken a vow of celibacy?”
He would have laughed if his situation hadn’t been so fucking tragic. “No.”
When he didn’t offer anything more, she nodded once and gave him a tight smile. “Okay then. Goodnight.”
Somehow he managed to stand there and not call her back.
But up in his own room, staring at the darkened ceiling later, he couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking of Willow, warm and willing down the hall.
He forced his eyes shut. The moment he did, the tide of memories came rushing back.
Syria. Leaving the relative safety of their fortified compound.
The shock and force of the initial explosion. Searing heat and pain when he’d stepped out of the vehicle to take up a defensive position. Barking orders over the radio.
A barrage of automatic gunfire. Screams of his men falling around him.
And as always, there was Peyton’s voice in their final radio transmission. Weak. Resolute despite the pain and fear he must have felt.
Roger that. If I don’t make it back—tell my family I love them and that I didn’t suffer.
His eyes shot open. He sat up, struggling to get his choppy breathing under control, his racing heart to slow down.
Fuck. Fuck.
He dragged a hand through his hair, using the grounding technique his therapist had taught him. Focus on five things he could see. Four things he could feel. Three things he could hear.
He heard someone moving around downstairs.
It was late. Willow should be fast asleep.
Pushing the covers back, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up. Cracked open his door. The kitchen light was on downstairs.
He stepped out into the hall just as the light switched off. Stopped as Rufus’s toenails clicked on the wood floor then muted as he reached the carpeted stairs. The dog froze when he saw Tripp standing in the darkness near the landing.
Willow was right behind him, looking unbearably sexy in her pajamas, the points of her nipples showing through the thin material of her top.
“Oh. You scared me,” she said, putting a hand to her chest.
“Sorry. You okay?”
“I’m...yeah.” She wiped a hand over her cheeks, and he felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.
She’d been crying. “What’s wrong?”
“I...” She drew in a shaky breath.
He was in front of her in an instant, cupping her face in his hands. “Tell me.” He wiped away the last traces of wetness from her cheekbones with his thumbs.
“It’s after midnight. Which means it’s the anniversary of...”
Yeah, he knew exactly what fucking day it was. Seeing her grief shredded him. He would do anything to make it go away. Trade places with Peyton in an instant to bring him back and spare her and her family all this pain.
But he couldn’t. So he tugged her close, wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. “I know.” His voice was raspy, his throat clogged with emotion.
Willow sucked in a hitching breath, a tiny shudder ripping through her as she pressed hard against him, her face nestled into the base of his throat. The feel of her was almost too much.
He swallowed at the riptide of desire that roared through him. Need, longing, guilt, grief all blending together in a roiling mass that threatened to snap the chain tethering his vow not to cross the line with her again.
He couldn’t tell her the truth right now. But he also couldn’t keep his distance.
God help him, he didn’t have the strength to turn her away tonight.
So when she lifted her head and tipped her face up to search his eyes, he’d already lost the battle before their lips touched.