Perfect Homecoming (Barrington Billionaires Book 10) Page 2

  “The docks aren’t complicated. That’s why I love working there. I mostly unload trucks. I’m on a forklift a lot. It’s fast paced, but I can keep up. I’m good at it.”

  “Maybe you would be good at whatever job you took with Hugo or Lauren. You never know.”

  “Maybe I would be, but I don’t really want to find out. There’s nothing wrong with getting my hands dirty doing a hard day’s work. If everything falls to shit someday, all the money and the luck that our family found evaporates, I’ll still have a place to go every day. A place to make money and a way to feed my family.”

  “Oh you’re one of those,” she teased. “The doomsday guy, waiting for the other shoe to drop. That means you do worry. You don’t like to just enjoy the good times?”

  “I enjoy it; I don’t get caught up in the glittery stuff that catches everyone’s eye. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m actually pretty happy in this shit house with my dirty job and my crazy family.”

  “It doesn’t seem crazy.” Her voice was quiet and serious suddenly. “It sounds pretty damn good. I wish I had an ounce of your confidence. You know what you want. That’s more than I can say for myself.”

  “I could show you the docks if you want,” Brian said with an indifferent shrug. “Unless you want to go back in there for more stories about my parents.”

  “Your parents sound amazing.” Carmen’s mind skipped to a memory of her own parents. The ache rippled through her body. Home and everything in it was so out of reach for her. “But I could use some fresh air. At least then I’d know what you do.”

  “We could go back in there and tell them we’re leaving, or”—he reached in his pocket and plucked out the keys to his car—“we could just go and let them wonder.”

  “Wonder or worry?”

  “They’ll know you’re with me.” Brian was up on his feet, his hand reached down to her. Waiting. Challenging her to trust him.

  “Being with you? I don’t know if that means they won’t worry, or they’ll worry more.”

  He didn’t reply, just jingled the keys and smiled.

  “You’re a troublemaker, aren’t you?” She reached her hand up and tingled at the touch of his fingers on hers.

  “I keep things interesting.”

  Chapter Two

  Brian

  He was one of those men. The kind that ran his hand over the fire of the candle to feel the burning sting. He couldn’t help it, like the moth drawn to the flame. At the bar he was champion of the knife game, letting the blade dance around his fingers as he splayed them out, palm down. He’d nicked himself a few times but never needed stiches. That was how Brian lived. Needing to feel the edge of danger to know he was alive.

  For years, it drove his mom and sister nuts. Getting through his adolescence was trial by fire. Now he’d run into people from the neighborhood and they’d look surprised he wasn’t in jail or dead. Tragedy has a way of turning a person around. Losing your parents, suddenly becoming the oldest living generation of your family, created a need in him. He walked the tightrope of danger, but he was skilled enough not to lose his footing. He would not be a numb robot like the people he saw muddling their way through life. There was supposed to be pain. Life without it wouldn’t be worth living.

  Carmen was a flickering and alluring flame. One he was compelled to run his hand over. He’d be a fool to think her story about her life in Italy was true. There had to be more. Her eyes darted away when she spoke about her family. She sucked in her luscious bottom lip every time he said Italy. He knew what it meant to be guarded. But Carmen was more than just private; she was walled up like an old castle preparing for a siege. And instead of being put off by her secrets, he couldn’t stay away.

  “Are you sure we can be down here?” Carmen wrung her hands nervously as Brian pushed open one of the broken chain link fence posts. They’d have to duck to get through. He put his back against the metal and made the space as large as he could for her to pass through the gap in the fence. It wasn’t the door to a fancy restaurant, but he was still a gentleman.

  “Of course we can be here. I’ve worked these docks for nine years. It’s my second home.” He gestured for her to pass through the fence and she finally did, though her face was painted with apprehension.

  “I’m a rule follower,” she whispered, her shoulders slumping a bit, trying to make herself smaller. “I don’t like to get in trouble.”

  “You won’t.” He touched her elbow gently as he stepped in behind her. “Why are you such a rule follower anyway? The best things happen when you take a risk.”

  Brian led her around the large steel drum barrels and broken crates. This place was a graveyard in many ways. Men had literally died here. Given their lives to the dangerous job. But it was also where other things came to die. Plenty of people he worked with had dreamed of bigger things, even struck out to find them, only to put their wool cap back on and fire up their forklift months later. People cast off their junk by the docks. Scrap piles were shoved to the side so the forklifts could cruise through.

  “I just like following the rules. I don’t like the idea of getting in trouble. Or putting myself in a position to be hurt.”

  “Nothing is going to hurt you here,” Brian promised, his eyes tracing the worry on her face. “And hey, maybe sitting out here you’ll figure out what it is you want to do with your life. It’s certainly quiet enough to think. I come out here at night all the time when the house gets too loud.”

  He led her toward the water and wondered if the dirty runoff and thick scent of hydraulic oil was bothering her. Since he smelled like that most of the time, he hoped not.

  Leaning down, he used his sleeve to dust off a metal box perched by the water. Without a moment’s hesitation she took a seat, leaving him enough space to join her. She was slender and didn’t take up much room. Though he’d assumed she was a pretty relaxed woman, the way she’d plopped down on the box let him know for sure. She was the furthest thing from pretentious.

  It was a tight fit, but being pressed against her wouldn’t be a hardship. She smelled of flowery shampoo and peppermint. Her blonde hair blew slightly in the breeze and she tucked it behind her ears.

  With a dramatic sigh she leaned down and peered at the rippling tide, the water made reflective by the small security light above them. Her voice was small and sounded far off as she spoke down into the water. “You ever look right through yourself?”

  “How so?” He leaned down and mirrored her position, his eyes fixed on her reflection.

  “I was getting ready today.” Her hand came up to her cheek and he suppressed his desire to touch her face as well. If this was a bar and she was some woman he’d been chatting up, he’d have kissed her by now. “I was putting on my makeup and looking in the mirror. But I wasn’t seeing myself. I stared straight through my reflection. It was the strangest thing.” Her body pulsed with a chill even though the temperature was mild.

  “I’m not really a profound guy.” Brian chuckled apologetically. “If you were looking for that kind of answer, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

  “I don’t know what I’m looking for.” She shook her head as though mortified by what she’d said. “I’m a mess. Just ignore me.”

  “You’re hard to ignore,” he whispered. “And I get what you’re saying. I’ve been in some dark places before. I know what it’s like to lose sight of yourself. But my mother used to remind me that I was never too far gone. No one is.”

  “I hope she was right.”

  “She usually was.” Brian pushed the image of his mother from his mind. Carmen seemed sad enough for both of them. He didn’t need the memory of his mother to bring him down.

  “I just don’t have any identity right now. I’m floating around. I don’t belong to anyone or anything anymore. It’s chilling actually.”

  “I can see you,” he said, his hand circling one of her wrists and gently placing it on his cheek. Their eyes locked. “I don’t know about your reflecti
on or whatever, but I see you.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder as though it was something they’d done a hundred times before. It felt natural and that unsettled him. As much as he craved her body, the intimacy was startling.

  When she spoke again, her words reverberated through him. “There is something I want to do, but it’s dangerous. Anyone who knows me would tell me it’s a bad idea. Self-destructive. Unproductive.”

  “You’d be breaking some rules?” He leaned in a bit and she adjusted her head on him, moving in closer.

  “Maybe I’d even be breaking some laws.”

  The idea was downright tantalizing to Brian. “But it’s what you want to do?”

  “I feel like it’s what I have to do.” Carmen’s voice grew more confident, and he liked the way her shoulders perked up. Whatever she was thinking about made her feel strong. That was something he could get behind.

  “Most anyone would probably talk you out of it,” he commented through a smile. “I have a feeling that’s why you’re telling me.”

  “You’re not most anyone.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do something dangerous.” His arm was around her now. “Not without someone looking out for you.”

  “I wouldn’t want to get anyone else involved.” She was talking through a smile now too. They were onto something.

  “You just did.”

  “Brian, I can’t ask you to help me with this. It’s crazy and messy. Some scheme I should completely be talked out of.”

  “Answer one question,” he insisted, looking down as she turned her face up toward him. “Would it hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve to be hurt?”

  “No,” she said, her voice falling serious.

  “Would it hurt someone who does deserve it?”

  She blinked, long slow beats, and he already knew the answer.

  A boat in the distance blew its horn and Carmen jumped, his arm holding her in place.

  “I am jumpy,” she admitted, dropping her gaze away. “I’m lost and alone and jumpy. But there is something that might help. Something that might make me feel better.”

  “I’m in,” Brian insisted. “Whatever it is, I’ll help.”

  “I’m sure you have some conditions.” She sighed, looking as though she were readying for his list of demands.

  “Nope. I may not be book smart or the kind of guy you want to take to a dinner party. But I’m simple in the best kind of way. I don’t ask a lot of questions. I don’t need a bunch of bullshit. I get shit done.”

  “What if we get in trouble?”

  “Trouble doesn’t scare me.” He laughed, and she pressed her ear tighter to his chest, seeming to listen intently.

  “What does scare you?”

  He thought about it for a moment. He could tell her spiders creeped him out. Or that he worried some nights about if his parents had felt pain when they died. Instead he offered her the truth. The thing that really scared him. “I’m afraid sometimes of what I’m capable of when someone hurts the people I care about. It does something to me. I don’t like who that makes me.”

  “Maybe this thing I’m proposing isn’t a good idea then. You shouldn’t get involved. I don’t want you to be in a position to have to protect me.”

  “I don’t want to be in a position where I’m not there to protect you.”

  “You may change your mind once I tell you my plan.”

  “Then tell me tomorrow,” he suggested, raising his head up and eying the bright moon, half covered by clouds. “I want to stay here a while longer.”

  Chapter Three

  Carmen

  She’d lost her nerve. Meeting Brian for dinner to discuss her plan had sounded great last night. Staring over the water, listening as the tiny waves made by the passing boats lapped against the dock, had been hypnotizing. Her head on his chest, his earthy masculine smell had overtaken her. It had been so long since someone had wrapped an arm, all muscle and tattoos, around her. Had he really promised to protect her? It was alluring in a way she couldn’t put into words. Not because he’d said all the right things, but because it’d been so damn apparent he’d meant them.

  What had really convinced her to tell him was that he wasn’t in a rush. Carmen had found there was a voyeuristic element to pain and secrets. People felt entitled to know whatever was being hidden or tucked away. They demanded it. But Brian had pushed the conversation to the following night. He’d looked patient in his curiosity and that had brought her comfort.

  Now, she was just steps away from the door to the place he picked to meet for dinner. Carmen could still turn and run away. There was time. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t there yet. And if he was inside he hadn’t spotted her.

  She froze as she considered her options. She could take the money from Gloria, move to the West Coast, and get a job waiting tables by the beach. There was no reason she had to stay in Boston. There was no reason she had to go through with this crazy plan of hers. These people were nice, but they weren’t family. She wasn’t beholden to any of them. The only person she needed was herself.

  “Want me to buy you a bus ticket?” Brian asked as he stepped beside her. He wasn’t wearing his wool hat or one of the worn T-shirts she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in. Instead, he wore a long-sleeved thermal shirt with three buttons at the collar. They were open, just enough of his chest peeking out to entice her gaze. Only an inch or so showed of a tattoo she couldn’t make out, which drew her to stare longer. The shirt was olive green and his eyes popped against the color. It fit snugly around his biceps and chest.

  “A bus ticket?” she stammered, licking her suddenly dry lips. Her body responded to him in a long-forgotten way. She felt her chest tingle and her core grow warm.

  His voice only made it worse. “I know that look. I’ve had that look. You want to run.”

  “I don’t.” She gulped back her lie. “I was just waiting for you.”

  “Sure,” he snickered. “Whatever you say.”

  Carmen pushed his shoulder back playfully. “Are you used to girls running away from you on dates?”

  “Is this a date?”

  Carmen tucked her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Last night I was blabbering on. You caught me at a low point. Let’s just forget it ever happened. I said too much.”

  “Sounds good.” Brian shrugged and gestured toward the door of the small Italian restaurant.

  “You still want to eat?” Her brows furrowed together and she ticked her head to the side, trying to figure him out.

  “Mario’s has my absolute favorite chicken parm. I’ve been thinking about it all day. We didn’t all get to live in Italy and munch on the local food every day. You don’t have to come if you don’t want, but I’m eating.”

  “I thought you—”

  “You thought I would beg you to tell me all your plans? That I’d insist last night was more than just you being at a low point and spilling your guts? You thought I’d make an argument for how you and I make a great team, and I’m not letting you go do something crazy on your own?”

  “Well sort of,” she admitted, not sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he hadn’t.

  “I’m going to do all that, but first I’m going to have Mario’s chicken parm. I don’t think dealing with you on an empty stomach is a great idea.”

  He gestured again toward the door, but she planted her feet.

  “Dealing with me?”

  “Are you going to make a case for how cool and breezy you are? Nothing complicated at all, right? I hope you were president of your debate club if you plan to take that side of the argument.”

  She opened her mouth to respond but snapped it closed again when she realized his point had merit.

  He pulled the door open and stepped aside. She eyed him, reluctant to give in. Not because she didn’t want to sit and eat with him, but solely on principle. He looked rather smug and confident at the moment.

&nb
sp; They were at a stalemate. He held the door open; she held her position on the sidewalk.

  “He uses a mallet to make the chicken paper thin,” Brian teased. “The sauce simmers for twenty-four hours. The cheese is imported straight from his brother in Italy.”

  Carmen rolled her eyes and propped a hand up on her hip. “I’m very hungry. That’s why I’m going in.”

  “Same.”

  She strode past him with her chin up in the air and her arms folded across her chest. A short, stocky man with a bushy mustache laughed loudly as she passed. “Oh Brian, looks like you pissed your date off already. That must be a new record. I haven’t even brought bread to the table.”

  “It’s her natural setting. I had very little to do with it.” He tossed his hands up disarmingly as they took a seat in the corner booth.

  “I highly doubt that,” the man said, looking Carmen over. “A sweet face like that. You must have done something.”

  “He did,” she called back curtly.

  The man hummed knowingly. “I’m Mario. This is my restaurant.” He extended his hand for a gentle shake, and she politely took it. “I promise in spite of your bad company, you’ll have a wonderful meal. I’ll bring some wine.”

  “She doesn’t drink,” Brian cut in protectively. She fought a smile at his concern.

  “Oh,” Mario said, his eyes going wide then settling back into his bright smile. “She’s good for you. Maybe too good for you.”

  “Maybe,” Brian replied as Mario shuffled away.

  Over his shoulder, Mario called out to them, “I’ll bring you some fine sparkling water. And there is bread coming out of the oven now.”

  “Thank you,” Carmen called. Mario clapped his hands together animatedly.