I Still Do Page 12

  But despite Will being on the verge of getting what he wanted—her out of his hair—he didn’t appear any more relaxed in her company than she was in his.

  Maybe it wasn’t about her, though. Maybe he was just soaking up tension from the general surrounding atmosphere. Because the Dailey siblings, while as loud and energetic as the other times she’d been around all or some of them, were palpably on edge. Throughout appetizers and then the dinner itself, they’d slid looks at their brother and at each other, as if they had something up their sleeves. Something that had to do with Will, and they weren’t sure just how he’d take the surprise.

  Emily’s stomach jittered and she found herself stepping nearer to him, even as she knew the closeness wasn’t good for her heart. Keeping her distance would be better, but once she breathed in the warm spiciness of his clean scent she found it even more difficult to move away. Will himself shifted, his arm grazing hers, and their eyes met.

  “You look beautiful,” he said. His voice was soft, but had a hint of accusation in it. “You always look so damn beautiful.”

  Yet instead of seeing herself as she was dressed right now, in a pair of cropped jeans, sandals and simple, boat-necked white T-shirt, another image popped into her mind. Will, sitting in his straight kitchen chair. Emily straddling him, her little skirt draped over his thighs, hiding the secret, sexy business that was happening under the lightweight cotton.

  Her nipples tingled, and she licked her lips, trying to solve the problem of a suddenly dry mouth. Will’s eyelids dropped, his lashes hitting half-mast as he stared at her exposed tongue. Embarrassed, aroused, she popped it back in her mouth and lifted her tea. Maybe he’d think the flush on her face was due to the heat of the drink.

  Shaking his head, he looked away. “That’s one memory that won’t be receding anytime soon,” he muttered.

  She might have laughed about the twin ways their minds worked, if only he seemed more appreciative than irked. So, yeah, some space was what they definitely needed. With a breath, she turned her back on him to smile at the little guy now marching onto the deck, plastic forks gripped in each fist.

  “Are you helping Mom, Todd?”

  Jamie’s son nodded his head, continuing on his journey to the two long picnic tables where they’d eaten their meal. “We’re havin’ cake. Birt-day cake.”

  “Oh.” Emily looked around the assembled crowd. “I didn’t know this was a celebration.”

  The Dailey family quieted as one. This gathering was smaller than the first she’d attended—only the siblings themselves were present, without significant others, except for Jamie’s husband, Ty, and their two children. They all looked at Emily, slid guilty gazes at Will, then looked down at their feet.

  “What’s going on?” Will asked, his voice sharp. “Nobody has a birthday this month.”

  Jamie stepped onto the deck from the house, a rectangular bakery box in her hands. “You wouldn’t let us do anything for you earlier this summer,” she said.

  “This was all her idea,” Tom added, jutting his thumb in his older sister’s direction. It wasn’t clear if he meant to give her the credit or the blame.

  “I don’t want to blow out any candles,” Will said.

  Todd rushed over to his uncle and strangled his knees with chubby arms in a sure sign of toddler adoration. “I do it.”

  “Both of us need to stay away from flames,” Will said, leaning down to swing Todd up in his arms. “Right, buddy? Fire’s dangerous. You need to remember that.”

  Emily’s heart clenched a little at how naturally he held the boy and how sweetly the child nestled up to his uncle’s chest. Despite how hard Will tried to separate himself from this family, every one of them, from the oldest sibling to his baby niece, Polly, wanted him in their lives.

  Why didn’t he see how special that was? Why didn’t he appreciate their stalwart affection?

  Jamie slid the bakery box onto the nearest table beside a stack of paper plates. “It’s not really a birthday cake,” she said. “Now, everyone, come back and sit down.”

  Again, there was that odd sense of tension on the deck. Dusk was settling, and Betsy had lit votive candles that sat in glass holders placed along the center of the wood surface. The group returned to the places they’d taken before, Will in the center, Emily beside him, his brothers and sisters arranged around the other places.

  As he took his seat, Ty replaced Will’s empty beer with a fresh one, and Emily looked up, trying to gauge the other man’s expression. But the shadows and the flickering candlelight made it hard to get a clear read. Did he think Will needed some liquid relaxation for what was coming?

  Because something was coming.

  Will sensed it, too, she figured, because his lean body froze. “What’s going on?”

  Jamie had retrieved baby Polly, and instead of sitting, was standing behind her spot, shifting from foot to foot as the infant dozed in her arms. “It’s nothing bad, Will. It was just something we thought…we wanted to acknowledge…”

  Tom piped up again. “This was all her idea.”

  “Okay,” Will said. “Jamie’s the culprit. But what the hell’s the problem?”

  Todd craned his neck to look up at his dad from his place on his father’s lap. “Yeah. What d’hell?”

  It should have been at least a little funny. But nobody on the deck laughed.

  Betsy cleared her throat. “It’s not a problem, okay? It’s something…something that has to be expressed. After thirteen years…I think it’s time we told you something, Will.”

  Beside her, Emily felt his body stiffen.

  Betsy continued. “You wouldn’t let us talk about it at my graduation. You refused to let us have a party for your birthday this summer. But this month there’s another important date—”

  “No.” Will’s voice was tight and tension radiated from his skin. The little hairs on Emily’s body lifted in empathetic agitation. “Don’t do this,” he said.

  His youngest sister’s voice rose. “Don’t acknowledge and appreciate what you did for us? How you kept us together, a family? That’s not right, Will.”

  Leaning over, she whisked the top off the box to reveal a fancy bakery sheet cake, chocolate—Will’s favorite—with letters in blue that read:

  Thank you, Bird Brother

  “Bird brother?” Emily echoed.

  A sheepish Max raised his hand. “That’s on me. When I was learning to talk, I mangled ‘big brother’. It sorta stuck. We used ‘bird brother’ more often than his name until—”

  “You didn’t need to do this.” Will made an abrupt rise to his feet. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

  From his other side, Alex put his hand on Will’s arm. “It’s been thirteen years, Will. Thirteen years today. And—”

  “I know what day it is,” Will’s voice lashed out and he jerked free of Alex’s hold. “I know goddamn well what day.”

  “Ga-dan,” little Todd repeated. “Ga-dan day.”

  “You hear that?” Will said, his voice still whip-tight. “You see what you’re doing by bringing this up?”

  “Ga-dan,” Todd babbled. “Ga-dan day.”

  “Honey, shh,” Jamie said to her son, then turned to her oldest brother. “Will, this isn’t contributing to the delinquency of a toddler. This is us making sure that you know we know what sacrifices you went through all the years after Mom and Dad—”

  “Stop!” Will hissed. One minute he was on his feet, pinned to the table by the picnic bench and the beautiful cake set before him. The next, he’d leaped the barrier behind him and was stalking off the deck, still holding his beer bottle. “Stay away from me. That’s the only thanks I want. All of you stay out of my life.”

  Silence fell over the deck as they heard the front door slam. Will had gone.

  Tom pointed to Jamie. “This was all her idea.”

  Todd lifted from his father’s lap to peer at the dessert sitting on the center of the table. “Ga-dan day. Want cake.”
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  Rising to her feet, Emily strained for the sound of Will’s engine. It wasn’t that she was worried about a ride home—surely one of the others would give her a lift to her house. She was wondering if leaving her behind was what he really wanted.

  Well, of course leaving her behind was what he really wanted—they were supposed to discuss the dissolution of their marriage tonight after all. But did he want to be alone right now or did he need something else? A friend?

  From what she could tell, out on the street an engine hadn’t started up. So she took off in that direction. Jamie caught her eye as she passed. “Don’t let him be alone tonight,” the other woman said. “He’s never been alone on the anniversary of our parents’ death. I couldn’t let it happen this year. We’re always together, though we’ve never openly acknowledged it. This time I was trying to give the anniversary a better memory.”

  Emily nodded, but kept on going. This time, she decided, no matter how much he wanted distance from her, now wasn’t the time for her to give Will any space.

  Emily found him pacing the sidewalk outside his sister’s house, his fingers still curled around his beer.

  “Will…”

  He didn’t stop his agitated movement. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re upset,” she said. “Your family is upset. Maybe you should go inside and talk—”

  “Talk!” He swung around at her. “There’s been too much damn talk about this. Let’s go.” His strides took him toward the driver’s side of his truck.

  “Will—”

  “No!” With a fierce swing of his arm, he threw the beer bottle against the curb, where it smashed with a startling crash.

  Emily froze, shocked by the violence and the sight of broken glass glinting in the glare of a streetlight. Then she looked over at Will and saw that he was paralyzed, too, his gaze trained on the mess he’d made in the street.

  She found she could move again. “All right, Will. All right. Let’s leave.”

  “Not yet.” His hands forked through his hair, then he moved toward the broken glass with jerky strides. “God. The kids could be hurt. Todd. Polly. I need to clean this up. I have to take care of this.”

  Emily watched him gather up the largest shards, her heart falling into as many pieces. This was Will, the man who, despite his obviously roiling emotions, couldn’t leave something dangerous that might possibly harm his nephew and baby niece.

  I need to clean this up. I have to take care of this.

  Will had taken on that responsibility thirteen years before and even in the throes of whatever was overtaking him now, that core of his wasn’t shaken.

  And neither was Emily’s love for him, she realized. The idea that somehow she could rationalize it away or decide the unrequited nature meant it wasn’t genuine wasn’t working. Will was so much more than a childhood, summer romance, and she’d fallen in very real, adult love with the man he had become. With a sigh, she walked toward him. “Let me help.”

  “Stay back,” he said. “I’ve already bandaged you once in the past week and I’m not risking another whiff of that antiseptic spray.”

  She didn’t ask why. In her mind, it was an aphrodisiac. If it wasn’t the same to him, she didn’t want to know about it.

  He didn’t say any more either, and maintained his silence all the way back to her house. When he pulled into her driveway, he left the motor running and stared at her garage door as if it was a movie screen or maybe a tablet that held all the secrets of the universe.

  Without thinking, Emily reached over and turned the key to kill the engine. “Why don’t you come in? We’ll have coffee. Tea. Water. Whatever you want.” Whatever he needed. Because it was obvious that the stormy tension that caused him to throw that bottle hadn’t dissipated. He was still strung tight.

  “I’m no company for anyone tonight,” he said, his voice terse.

  “I’ll chance it. Come inside.”

  She couldn’t say what got him into her house. She only knew her rib cage relaxed a little from its constricting hold of her heart when he opened his door and followed her inside. He dropped to her couch, his knees spread, his elbows propped on them as he held his head in his hands.

  Her heart stumbled. “Will.” She sat down on the cushion beside his, her palm against his shoulder. She felt it twitch, but she refused to take it as rejection. “I think I know a little of what you’re feeling.”

  He didn’t lift his head, but his tone was belligerent. “Oh, yeah? You think you do?”

  She didn’t back down. “Yeah, I do. I lost my parents, too, remember?”

  There was a charged moment of silence, then one large hand came up to squeeze hers, making her heart ache a little more. He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Em…”

  “Have you ever given yourself time to grieve?”

  His head lifted. He stared at her. “Time to grieve?”

  Made stupid by the odd expression on his face, she repeated it. “Yes. Time to grieve.”

  He laughed, but it was a short sound and not at all humored. “There wasn’t time to grieve. I had to get on with it…get on with getting the kids to school, getting the food on the table, getting the bills paid, getting five kids grown up and launched right.”

  And he’d done that. He’d done it all, all that he’d just laid out for her. But still…“So you did those things. And now you have no reason to duck from why you had to do those things, Will. Thirteen years ago tonight—”

  “Don’t say it,” he interrupted.

  She had to say it. It had to be faced. “Thirteen years ago tonight, your parents died and you—”

  There was no finishing the sentence. His hands were on her upper arms before she could get it all out, and he was jerking her closer, jerking her face toward his, busying her mouth with a kiss that was more about silence than about sweetness.

  There was no sweetness in the kiss whatsoever. Who was he punishing? Her? Himself? Fate?

  Still, his mouth against hers was hot and burning and the shiver that snaked down her spine was a tongue of flame. The kiss went on and on, until she couldn’t breathe, but the desperation ignited new fires along her nerve endings and she swayed into the dizziness instead of pulling away from it.

  When he lifted his head, the oxygen felt too pure. “Please,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him even though she didn’t know what she pleaded for. “Please.”

  He got to his feet, taking her up with him. “Now,” he said, the words guttural, his muscles still coiled with tension. “I need you right now.”

  “Will…”

  “Let me,” he said, his voice fierce. “Let me.”

  He’d said that each and every time, each and every time meaning, Let me make love to you. Now though…

  Let him not think, was what he meant.

  But why would she refuse? What would she refuse? This was the man she loved, and he was hurting. And the press of his flesh against hers, the new kiss he was giving her, sent all those heated, soft and swollen spots of hers throbbing.

  They made it to her bedroom. And then they were naked, and then they were joined. His fingers twined with hers. He held her hands to the mattress and thrust in a driven, raw rhythm until she came. He buried his face against her throat and she felt him release…and she felt wetness on her neck.

  She didn’t comment on it, even as there was a telltale prickle at the back of her own eyes. She didn’t comment on anything. Instead, she only held him closer to her as they drifted into sleep.

  In the morning, she woke alone. There was a note in her kitchen, where he’d made coffee for her. The pot was full. He hadn’t even taken a single cup’s worth. She thought of that, that he’d wanted nothing more from her.

  Then she looked at what he’d written.

  His handwriting was clear. Stark. The pen black on white paper.

  I’m sorry. I need to be alone.

  And she’d bet all she owned that he didn’t mean just for breakfast. Life could be just that u
nfair.

  Chapter Eleven

  After the evening meal at the fire station it was standby time, and the crew was free to do as they chose until a call came in. Though he wasn’t much good at concentrating the last few days, Will joined Owen to study for the continuing education course they were taking on handling hazardous materials.

  But it was a waste of time, because once the books were open and their notes spread before them, Will might as well have been staring at Egyptian cuneiform. Forking his hand through his hair, he groaned. “On nights like this, I’m glad I’m the only Dailey who didn’t make it to college.”

  Owen looked up. “You could go now, you know. Your brothers and sisters are finished. The next tuition payment you make could be for yourself. You could learn something.”

  Will frowned. “What are you talking about?” He gestured at the work in front of them. “I’m always learning.”

  “The stuff you study is for the job. If you wanted, you could go to college and prepare yourself for another kind of job. A new career.”

  “A new career? Like what?”

  “Anything, Will,” Owen said. “You became a firefighter because there was a spot for you in the fire academy and you knew you could get through it quicker than a degree program when you needed money to take care of your family. Now you could prepare for any kind of career you want.”

  Will shifted in his chair, then slid his gaze around the room. The living quarters of the station house were comfortable. From the adjoining room, he could hear a couple of his buddies arguing about what to watch on TV. For those two it was the same-old, same-old—nature documentary versus do-it-yourself house project program. One of the other firefighters wandered behind Owen, flashing Will a distracted smile as she passed, her cell phone plastered to her ear. He didn’t need to overhear a word to know Anita was talking her ten-year-old through his evening routine.

  He knew his second family just that well.

  Another crew member was in the kitchen, probably scarfing down one of the brownies that a grateful citizen had dropped by that afternoon. They’d saved her grandmother when the elderly lady had forgotten a pot on the stove. Besides getting the fire out and calling the ambulance for the disoriented homeowner, they’d hunted down the old woman’s cat that had gone into hiding once the smoke alarm started shrieking. The look on Grandma’s face when he’d held the pet so she could stroke it before the ambulance drove her off was worth every long night and every sooty day he’d ever had on this job that he…