Wilde Nights in Paradise (Wilde Security #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jude snarled as a shadow fell over the papers on his desk, blocking out the crappy office lights. He’d spent his week up to his elbows in the expense reports Reece demanded he fill out, and he just wanted to finish this last one, go home, and drown his sorrows for the weekend.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone and thought the F-U force field he’d constructed around himself would keep them all at bay. Then again, some of his brothers had no concept of self-preservation.

He lifted his gaze and scowled at the owner of the shadow. Camden stood beside the desk unapologetically blocking the light with his big frame. Sam the Cat lay across Cam’s wide shoulders, content to hang there like a fluffy orange scarf and doze. Since Jude had no idea when Seth would be home, he’d brought the feline back to D.C. with him, and Sam had quickly won over the hearts of his brothers, earning himself a spot as Wilde Security’s spoiled mascot.

“You’re in my light,” Jude snapped.

“Yup.”

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

“For starters,” Cam said, “my brother back.”

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

“Where are the paper footballs? The fight provoking? You haven’t even aggravated Reece once since you got home.”

“I’m okay with that,” Reece said from across the room.

“Yeah, well, I’m not.” Camden took the cat off his shoulders, plopping the fat feline down on top of Jude’s reports. “How about a game of Battleship?”

Libby, accusing him of cheating as she tossed her panties at him…

As his gut twisted, he shut his eyes to close out the memory. “I hate that game.”

“Since when?”

He shooed Sam off his desk, picked up his pen, and got back to work, but Cam yanked the paper out from under the tip.

“Okay, this has got to stop. Go find her.”

“No.”

“Why the hell not?” Cam demanded.

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Bullshit,” Cam said. “Try again.”

“Because I don’t fucking care.”

Cam made a buzzer sound out of the side of his mouth. “You’re oh-for-two. One more time.”

Jude glared up at his brother. “She doesn’t want me, okay? Now leave me the fuck alone.”

“Ah, getting warmer.”

“Goddammit!” All of the hurt and sorrow coalesced into a blinding rage so hot he didn’t realize he whipped his pen at the desk hard enough to break the cheap thing until Sam jumped and hissed. Except for scaring the cat out of one of his nine lives, the splintered pen bounced harmlessly to the floor. Wasn’t enough. Anger rode him so hard he wanted to throw the whole damn desk across the room. It didn’t help that all of his brothers had stopped what they were doing to eavesdrop, and Cam stood there, arms crossed, looking so calm and reasonable and Cam-like, prompting him to spill his guts with a murmured, “Talk to me, bro.”

Jude opened his mouth, but the fuck off he’d formulated in his mind came out as a broken whisper instead. “I don’t deserve her.”

The whole room went utterly still, and all of his brothers stared at him as if he’d just announced he wanted a sex change.

“What?” Camden breathed.

“I don’t deserve her,” he repeated, enunciating each word. “I don’t deserve to be happy.”

“What makes you think that?” Greer stepped out of his office doorway, where he’d paused to listen in on the convo. He crossed the room and stopped in front of Jude’s desk.

“Because… Shit. Just because.” Leaning back in his chair, he stared his brothers. Greer—strong, silent, intense, and hiding more secrets than any of them. And, damn, the guy looked so much like Dad, Jude couldn’t bear it. Not now. Not when every wound he’d ever hidden behind a smile was raw and open and throbbing.

He turned his gaze to Reece—all focus and practicality, a lot like Libby. At one time, a very long time ago, he’d been closer to Reece than any of them. Now a lifetime of slights had built up to the point that they could barely stand to be in the same room together, and he suspected a lot of that was his fault.

The twins. Cam—easygoing and so rock steady a hurricane wouldn’t budge him. Vaughn—direct and decisive, a little rough around the edges, a fighter. He’d gotten them both into trouble more times than he could remember.

And then there was him. Jude, the fuck up.

“I hate myself,” he told them, all heat gone from his voice. After the confession left his lips, he thought he should feel lighter. Relieved or some shit that it was all out in the open now. He didn’t. He wasn’t. Exhaustion dragged him down, but he kept talking anyway. “I’ve always hated myself, but I have to grin and bear it because that’s my punishment.”

Greer planted his hands on the desktop and leaned in. “I think you need to open that big yap of yours and start talking. Really talking. No more bullshit. What do you mean, punishment ?” Despite his harsh tone, worry shone in his eyes, which only made Jude’s throat tighten up more.

“You look like Dad.”

Greer straightened like he’d been poked in the ass with a Bowie knife. “What did you say?”

“I see it more every day. Sometimes it hurts to look at you and know…”

Greer’s mouth worked soundlessly as he struggled to find something to say. Cam nudged him aside and sat on the edge of the desk. “Hey, man, we all miss them.”

Jude nodded. True enough. His brothers had all had a little more time to make good memories with their parents. On the other hand, he’d been so young, not even a teenager yet. Out of the few memories he could recall, the worst was the one that stood out the most, a streak of blood red across what would otherwise have been a flawless childhood. “But none of you killed them.”

“What the fuck?” Vaughn said. “You were just a kid. You didn’t kill them.”

“Yeah, I did.” Jude looked over at Reece, expecting confirmation, and instead seeing a face not quite like Dad’s that had gone ghost white. The memory of that night played out in his older brother’s expression: thirteen-year-old Reece pulling him out of bed, cursing at him, trying to figure out how to alert their parents that the crisis had passed. The police knocking on the door hours later. Child services coming to take them all away to different homes and Reece turning on him with hatred in his eyes…

It’s all your fault. They’re dead because of you!

Greer frowned at the two of them. “Jude, listen to me. What happened to Mom and Dad wasn’t your fault, and whatever happened between the two of you”—he wagged a finger in the air between him and Reece—“you need to take care of it. Now. It’s long overdue.” He turned, motioned a c’mon gesture to Cam and Vaughn. “Twins, let’s give them some space.”

The door shut behind them, and silence descended like a torrential rain, cold and heavy. Reece still hadn’t moved. Hadn’t even blinked. His body was present, but his mind wasn’t. Jude suspected he was still twenty years away, reliving the worst night of their lives, and stayed silent. He didn’t expect much to come from this little heart-to-heart—the pain ran too deep, the wound had festered too long. He couldn’t see how a simple conversation would change that.

Reece finally stirred. He shut his eyes and released a shaky breath. When he finally lifted his lids, moisture spiked his lashes.

“All this time, you thought…?” His voice came out thick, raw. With a shaking hand, he loosened his tie and fumbled with the buttons of his collar, but gave up after his hand proved too unsteady. He paced away, circled the twins’ desks, and came back. “Fuck. I didn’t mean anything I said that day.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Let’s just forget it.”

“Jude, I was angry, grieving—” He swallowed hard and dragged his hands over his short, dark hair. “But so were you and that’s not an excuse. I should have protected you, taken care of you. You were only a child. Instead, I accused you. I should have realized you’d take it to heart. I…ruined you.”

A lump the size of an aircraft carrier lodged in Jude’s throat, but he forced a smile. “I wouldn’t say ruined .”

“You’re so full of shit. You think you don’t deserve a woman like Libby Pruitt when you’re obviously head over heels for her. You think you don’t deserve to be happy—all because of something I said out of grief twenty years ago. How is that not ruined?”

He didn’t have an answer to that and just shook his head. Denial was his good friend, and he slipped into its embrace easily. “Let’s pretend this conversation never happened.”

“Fuck that. You do deserve happiness. Mom and Dad would want you to be happy. I want you to be happy, and if this Libby woman does it for you, then I say go for it.”

Christ, he wanted to, but even if Reece was right, even if he did deserve happiness—which he still doubted—there were too many other obstacles in the way. Namely, Colonel Elliot Pruitt. “Her father warned me away from her. Again.”

“So?”

Jude smiled, but this time it came easily. “Careful. You’re starting to sound like me.”

“Devil must be building an igloo.”

“Must be.” Maybe he wasn’t ready to stop blaming himself for his parents’ deaths yet, but damn, it felt good to know that Reece had never blamed him. And maybe, just maybe, his brothers had a point about Libby. He stood. “You know this doesn’t mean I’m going to stop annoying you every chance I get.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m going to stop being annoyed,” Reece said.

Jude didn’t know who moved first, but in the next instant, they stood together in a tight, backslapping embrace.

Reece pulled away and clasped Jude’s face in his hands, gave him an affectionate slap on the cheek like their father used to do. “Now go get your lady, bro.”

…

Jude hit the parking lot at a run, car keys in hand. For once, he didn’t mind that he was following an order given by Reece. He felt lighter somehow and damn if he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to get Libby back. He could admit now that he missed her. That he still—

And there she was. Hurrying across the parking lot of the mostly abandoned strip mall where Greer had set up the Wilde Security office, her eyes shielded against the glare of the setting evening sun by her hand.

He skidded to a halt in surprise. “Libby.”

She stopped walking a good ten feet from him. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, but he remembered she once told him they fogged up in muggy weather like this so she only wore them indoors. Knowing such a little, unimportant detail about her thrilled him. He wanted more. He wanted everything.

Libby bit down on her lower lip, fiddled with the top button of her silky blouse. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said back. Okay, lame response but his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders. “What are you doing here?” And, yeah, that wasn’t any better. He winced and hoped she didn’t take offense to that question.

She took several steps closer, but stopped still too far out of his reach. “I know why you cheated on me eight years ago.”

“Yeah, well, I told you why back in Key West.”

She shook her head. “I know the real reason. Dad threatened you.”

Jude’s heart started to pound a painful drumbeat against his ribs. Stupid reaction. Just because she now knew the truth didn’t mean squat as far as their relationship went. “He told you?”

“He did,” she confirmed and took another step closer. “He also told me about that woman, how she was a fellow Marine. You’re not a cheater. Never have been.”

Jude shut his eyes and savored those words, ones he never thought she’d say or even know. When he opened his eyes again, she stood directly in front of him, less than an arm length away.

“Let me hear you say it, Jude.”

He moistened his lips. “Say what?”

“You know.” She stepped into him and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Dad was only trying to protect me in his own way, but he robbed us of eight years together. Please don’t make me wait a second longer.”

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against his body. “I love you, Libby.”

She sniffled, and when she raised her head, tears streamed from her eyes. “I love you, too. I never stopped.”

“Neither did I.” Intent on doing it right this time, he dropped to one knee right there in the parking lot and dipped his hand in his pocket for the ring he’d carried for too many years. He held it out to her, his nerves rattling until he saw her sharp intake of breath as she recognized it. Then everything in him settled into a sense of rightness.

“Libby, will you honeymoon in Key West with me?”

She sank to her knees in front of him and stared at the ring with wonder. “You kept it.”

“I’ve never been without it.”

The tiny diamond sparked in the evening sun. She reached out, but hesitated as if touching it would destroy the perfection of the moment. He wanted to tell her nothing could, but instead grasped her hand and slid the ring into its rightful spot on her finger.

“I love you,” he told her because he had eight years to make up for and only a lifetime in which to do it—not nearly enough time. “I want to marry you. Most of my adult life, all I’ve wanted was to marry you, start a family with you, live in domestic bliss with you until we’re both old and crazy.”

“You’re already crazy.”

“Depends on your definition.” He grinned, and for the first time in a long time, his smile didn’t hide any secret pain. “Is that a yes?”

Libby leaned forward and wound her arms around his neck. “It’s definitely a yes.”