to keep her for himself.
CHAPTER NINE
Hours later, with the girls fast asleep in the spare bedroom, Harley tossed and turned on the couch.
Gage was right.
Mike needed her.
And as much as the thought of pushing past the wall he’d erected between them concerned her, Harley knew that Hannah would want her to make sure they were all taken care of.
It broke Harley’s heart.
Every time she saw the twins, she missed Hannah so much, she thought she’d weep inside forever. But then something little happened, like Gage touching her and wakening her body, and it would remind her that life went on. Her sister may be gone, but Harley was still very much alive and it seemed such a shame to waste whatever time she had on this earth.
The slam of a truck door brought her off the couch. As the back door crashed open, she recalled how easily Henry had broken into her house. All it had taken was a kick of his booted foot and the door had given way.
This time, she had the girls to think of.
Fear tightened her gut and she tried to steady the uneven beat of her heart. Grabbing a vase off the bookshelf, she crept from the living room into the dark kitchen. When she saw Mike stumble into the entranceway, relief swept through her and she set the vase aside.
Her brother-in-law slammed his shoulder into the wall, and subsequently toppled sideways. Gage followed close behind, managing to grab his brother by the elbow to steady him.
Gage looked wonderful—tousled like he’d just gotten out of bed, edible like a scarce morsel of food to a starving woman. Long ago, he’d spoiled her for other men, yet it was obvious the feelings weren’t reciprocated.
Mike lurched up the steps, stopped in front of her, blocking her view of Gage. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the raw agony in her brother-in-law’s eyes, the pain and loneliness etched into the furrows of his brow, the sorrow in the downward curve of his once smiling mouth.
And as she gazed helplessly into Mike’s sorrow ravaged face, she realized that she had failed him.
Failed her sister, too.
After Hannah’s funeral, when he had needed her the most, she’d been unable to face him.
Survival guilt, and she had a boatload of it.
Mike’s fingers bit into her shoulders, his head lowered slightly so he could stare her in the eye, and Harley forced her feet to stay put, forced herself not to cringe away from him.
“You’re drunk,” she accused softly, feeling like a mother about to scold her favorite child.
The fingers of one of his hands tunneled through her hair. His other arm wound around her waist and pulled her against the length of his body. Surprised, Harley set the palms of her hands against his chest and blinked up at him.
“Obviously not drunk enough,” he growled, tugging gently on her hair so her face lifted to his. His grief-stricken gaze dropped to her mouth, his whisky scented breath warming the curve of her cheek. “Do you know that I hurt whenever I look at you, that I ache every time I watch you move, smile, soothe one of the girls.”
“Mike, let me go,” she whispered as the grip on her hair tightened and pulled at the delicate roots.
His voice dropped to a low, intense snarl. “You even smell like her, damn you . And every time I see you, I remember what it was like to touch her, hold her, kiss her.”
His mouth slanted across hers and Harley, wracked with her own pain at the loss of her dearly loved sister, could only remain passive in his arms and accept the hatred and fury and pain in his kiss.
CHAPTER TEN
Gage pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and exhaled with hopes of alleviating the pain in his chest.
Mike was wrong.
Hannah had always smelled like baby formula and lemon polish and hot just-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies.
But Harley…even in the dark, Gage could pick her out by the sweet scent of her body, the softness of her skin, the way she kissed him back.
Like she never wanted to
CHAPTER NINE
Hours later, with the girls fast asleep in the spare bedroom, Harley tossed and turned on the couch.
Gage was right.
Mike needed her.
And as much as the thought of pushing past the wall he’d erected between them concerned her, Harley knew that Hannah would want her to make sure they were all taken care of.
It broke Harley’s heart.
Every time she saw the twins, she missed Hannah so much, she thought she’d weep inside forever. But then something little happened, like Gage touching her and wakening her body, and it would remind her that life went on. Her sister may be gone, but Harley was still very much alive and it seemed such a shame to waste whatever time she had on this earth.
The slam of a truck door brought her off the couch. As the back door crashed open, she recalled how easily Henry had broken into her house. All it had taken was a kick of his booted foot and the door had given way.
This time, she had the girls to think of.
Fear tightened her gut and she tried to steady the uneven beat of her heart. Grabbing a vase off the bookshelf, she crept from the living room into the dark kitchen. When she saw Mike stumble into the entranceway, relief swept through her and she set the vase aside.
Her brother-in-law slammed his shoulder into the wall, and subsequently toppled sideways. Gage followed close behind, managing to grab his brother by the elbow to steady him.
Gage looked wonderful—tousled like he’d just gotten out of bed, edible like a scarce morsel of food to a starving woman. Long ago, he’d spoiled her for other men, yet it was obvious the feelings weren’t reciprocated.
Mike lurched up the steps, stopped in front of her, blocking her view of Gage. Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized the raw agony in her brother-in-law’s eyes, the pain and loneliness etched into the furrows of his brow, the sorrow in the downward curve of his once smiling mouth.
And as she gazed helplessly into Mike’s sorrow ravaged face, she realized that she had failed him.
Failed her sister, too.
After Hannah’s funeral, when he had needed her the most, she’d been unable to face him.
Survival guilt, and she had a boatload of it.
Mike’s fingers bit into her shoulders, his head lowered slightly so he could stare her in the eye, and Harley forced her feet to stay put, forced herself not to cringe away from him.
“You’re drunk,” she accused softly, feeling like a mother about to scold her favorite child.
The fingers of one of his hands tunneled through her hair. His other arm wound around her waist and pulled her against the length of his body. Surprised, Harley set the palms of her hands against his chest and blinked up at him.
“Obviously not drunk enough,” he growled, tugging gently on her hair so her face lifted to his. His grief-stricken gaze dropped to her mouth, his whisky scented breath warming the curve of her cheek. “Do you know that I hurt whenever I look at you, that I ache every time I watch you move, smile, soothe one of the girls.”
“Mike, let me go,” she whispered as the grip on her hair tightened and pulled at the delicate roots.
His voice dropped to a low, intense snarl. “You even smell like her, damn you . And every time I see you, I remember what it was like to touch her, hold her, kiss her.”
His mouth slanted across hers and Harley, wracked with her own pain at the loss of her dearly loved sister, could only remain passive in his arms and accept the hatred and fury and pain in his kiss.
CHAPTER TEN
Gage pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and exhaled with hopes of alleviating the pain in his chest.
Mike was wrong.
Hannah had always smelled like baby formula and lemon polish and hot just-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies.
But Harley…even in the dark, Gage could pick her out by the sweet scent of her body, the softness of her skin, the way she kissed him back.
Like she never wanted to
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