Chapter 2
BASTIAN
People in this town loved pretending they knew me, and that was exactly why coming back always felt like a bad idea. No matter how many years I stayed gone or how far overseas I disappeared, the second my truck rolled into town everybody suddenly had a story about Bastian Marker.
Most of them were bullshit. A few might’ve been true. I stopped giving a shit a long time ago. It was easier when nobody had the balls to say any of it to my face.
I’d only been back at the lake house for a couple of minutes that morning before I regretted showing up at all.
I’d dropped my bag on the porch, planning to finally settle in for the summer, but the second I stepped inside, I heard my brother and his wife going at it again next door in the main house.
The same raised voices and old bullshit fighting that never seemed to end.
Then I caught a glimpse of Juliet on the porch at the main house, barefoot and looking exhausted and lost after her long drive. I took in every single inch of her, from her messy hair, oversized sweatshirt, and beautiful but tired looking eyes. Something twisted in my chest. Hard.
I turned around, got back in my truck, and drove straight to the marina before anyone could stop me. I wasn’t ready to face Juliet. Not yet.
The marina was quiet that morning, just the soft slap of water against the docks and the metallic clank of my wrench against an old outboard motor.
I’d asked the Frank, old man who ran the bait and boat shop, if he needed help, not only because I’d seen he was struggling but because I needed something to keep busy so I didn’t just sit in this docked boat twiddling my fingers and thinking about her.
Even though the sun had barely risen, the heat was already thick and heavy.
Sweat stuck my shirt to my back as I leaned over the engine, grease black across my knuckles.
Engines made sense. They either ran or they didn’t.
People were different. People always wanted more than you could give, and eventually you let them down.
That was why I had spent most of my life leaving before they could ask me to stay.
My mom had left my abusive piece-of-shit father when I was eight, packing us up in the middle of the night with nothing but two suitcases and a black eye she tried to hide. A few years later, she met Landon’s father, fell in love, and suddenly I had a stepfather and a stepbrother.
That’s how this whole messy family got stitched together. Two broken pieces trying to build something that wouldn’t fall apart, too.
The years traveling for work had all started to blur together.
Too many months spent in dusty forward operating bases, too many private security contracts in places the State Department warned you not to go to.
I’d spent years taking security contracts in places most people would never willingly go.
The pay was ridiculous because most normal people wouldn’t touch that kind of shit.
I came back harder every single time. Old scars, busted knuckles, quieter, meaner, and carrying memories I had no intention of sharing with anyone.
The crunch of tires on gravel pulled me out of my thoughts. My stepbrother Landon’s SUV rolled into the marina lot. I already knew why he was here before he even stepped out.
“Saw your bag on the porch,” he said, handing me a coffee. “Figured you’d taken off again when you heard Laura and me going at it this morning. Sorry about that, man. I swear we are like oil and water.”
I snorted and took a long sip. “Didn’t realize you two were still doing that dance.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking tired. “Yeah. Anyway, family cookout’s at noon. I’m handling the grill this time since Mom and Dad have taken their retired asses down to Florida.”
I smirked at the loving jealousy in his voice.
“You’ll be there, right?”
I knew it wasn’t an actual question. He expected me to be there.
“It’ll just be us, Laura, Juliet, and Aunt Clara and Uncle Stanley. Nothing crazy.”
I leaned back against the boat. “I just got in. Not sure I’m in the mood for a crowd.”
“Come on, Bast. It’s been a hell of a long time since we’ve all been together. Laura’s already stressed about Juliet being back and everything going on with her. It’d mean a lot if you showed.”
I frowned, straightening up from the boat. “What do you mean ‘everything going on with her’? I thought she was just coming home for the summer.”
Landon sighed. “Her shitty-ass boyfriend was cheating on her. She walked in on him with some girl. Pretty rough. She quit her job right after, but hated it anyway, and just packed up and drove here. Laura’s been worried sick about her.”
Something tight and protective twisted in my chest. I hadn’t expected that. Juliet had always been the steady one, the kid who had her shit together even when the rest of us didn’t. Hearing she was hurting hit me harder than it should have.
“Shit,” I muttered, dragging a hand over my jaw. “I didn’t know.” I looked at my brother. “I should go beat that little fucker’s ass for hurting her.”
Landon chuckled and clapped me on the back. “I’ll be right there with you,” he teased. “But yeah. So… it’d be good if you came. For her.”
That ugly twist hit me low in the gut again. I hated how fast it flared and how much I cared.
I didn’t answer right away. The lake house had always been more Landon’s than anyone else’s.
After my mom and his dad moved to that retirement community in Florida, he and Laura had basically taken it over.
They’d fixed it up, raised Juliet there, and kept the whole place operating smoothly.
When I did visit, I just stayed in the small guest house on the property even though I still had a room in the main house.
The latter never really felt like mine anymore.
“Of course I’ll be there,” I muttered.
Landon nodded, relieved. “Good. I’m glad.”
“Can’t believe my little girl is all grown up,” Landon said, shaking his head. “Shit, man. We’re getting old.”
“Sure the hell are.” I was feeling every one of my forty years. Landon, being older and with an adult daughter, was probably feeling it even worse.
He smirked faintly. “Still weird seeing her all grown up, though. She was just a kid last time you were around for any real length of time. Twelve? Thirteen?”
I took a slow sip of coffee. “Something like that.”
But that wasn’t entirely true.
I had seen her one more time when she was eighteen, walking across the stage at her high school graduation.
I’d been on a short leave and slipped into the back of the auditorium without telling anyone.
She never knew I was there. No one did. I hadn’t wanted some big homecoming when I had to leave again that night.
But that was the day everything shifted.
Watching her in that cap and gown, smiling like the whole world was opening up for her, I stopped seeing her as Landon’s kid. I saw her as a woman. A beautiful one. And that realization hit me hard enough that I stayed the hell away ever since.
Until now.
By the time lunchtime rolled around and I pulled up to the lake house for the cookout, I already regretted saying yes.
Too many people.
Too much noise.
Then I saw her. Every goddamn thought in my head stopped cold. Fuck.
She stood barefoot at the edge of the dock in tiny denim shorts and a thin white tank top the breeze kept tugging at. Her dark hair was down and still damp from the water, and the sunlight hit her like she was the only thing worth looking at.
Juliet wasn’t the little girl I remembered anymore. Shit, she wasn’t even the eighteen year old I last saw. Not even close. And the way my body reacted to that truth made me feel sick with guilt.
Then she turned and caught me staring.
Our eyes locked across the yard, and everything else disappeared. The noise, the people, the years between us. For a second, I saw it flash across her face, too: surprise, heat, recognition. Like she felt the same dangerous pull I did.
She smiled, small and soft, and started walking toward me.
Every instinct I had screamed at me to get back in the truck and drive away.
“Bastian,” she said when she stopped in front of me. The way my name slipped from her lips was soft, familiar, way too warm.
“You’re back,” she added quietly.
“Looks like it.” I shoved my hands into my pockets so I wouldn’t do something stupid, like reach for her. Up close, she smelled like sunscreen and lake water and summer.
“You disappeared this morning,” she said.
There wasn’t any anger in her voice. Just truth.
“I wanted to get to the marina before it got packed.” I swallowed hard. She was standing too close. Close enough that I could see the freckles across her nose and the way her damp tank top clung to her skin.
My gaze dropped before I could stop it. I took in her shapely bare legs still glistening from the water. Heat slammed into me so fast I felt ashamed immediately afterward. This was Juliet. My step-niece. The same girl I used to wrap my jacket around during thunderstorms.
It was so fucking wrong.
I took a step back like she’d burned me, and she noticed. Of course she noticed.
“I should go help Mom,” she said, her voice a little quieter now.
“Yeah,” I rasped. “You should.”
She held my eyes for one more second, like she could see straight through me, then turned and walked away.
I watched her the whole time. Fuck, I couldn’t stop myself.
By the time the sun dropped behind the trees, I was back at my place, halfway through a bottle of whiskey and trying like hell not to think about the way she’d looked at me.
Like she already knew this summer was going to ruin us both.