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Twist of Fate: A Heartbreaker Bay Novella Page 6
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That single sentence, uttered so quietly, was like a punch to the throat. Diego sat up in bed. “I’m…Christ. Sorry doesn’t cover it.”
“I know. And thank you,” Tyler said. “He was a bit of a dick, but he was my brother. And I’d do anything, anything to have Ian at this wedding stuff. That isn’t going to happen.”
“Are you saying that this dick is alive and therefore should get himself an attitude adjustment?” Diego asked with a small smile.
“I try very hard not to tell heteros what to do. They don’t seem to appreciate it.”
Diego had to laugh. Hell if he didn’t admire the guy. “Noted.”
Chapter 6
Daisy was ten minutes late to work, and she had no one to blame but herself—and the fact that she’d had an unintended sleepover.
Wherein there’d not been a lot of actual sleeping.
Just the thought gave her a body shiver of the very best kind as she rushed into the office wearing yesterday’s clothes and possibly a well-satisfied smile. She’d noticed it while trying to wrangle her hair into a knot on top of her head, but she hadn’t been able to get rid of the expression.
A side effect of man-made orgasms that she’d nearly forgotten about.
She rushed directly into a meeting that had already started, ignoring the long, unhappy gaze Carol sent her. After the meeting, in which they’d discussed an upcoming charity event at the opera house ad nauseam while Daisy did her best to stay awake, Carol asked her to hang back.
When it was just the two of them in the conference room, Carol’s brows rose.
“What?”
“You were late.”
“Ten minutes, yes,” Daisy said. “I’m terribly sorry, but it was a first-time offense that won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” Carol got to her feet. “And you do realize you’re wearing yesterday’s clothes.”
If Carol had been hoping for an explanation, she wasn’t going to get one.
When Daisy remained mute regarding the comment, Carol shook her head. “The future head of this company doesn’t do walks of shame into morning meetings. Am I clear?”
“I’m not doing a walk of shame,” Daisy said. And she meant it. She didn’t consider her sex life shameful. Nor was it up for public consumption. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, as you know, I’ve got a lot on my plate.”
* * * *
That night, Daisy was at home, once again in PJs and eating ice cream straight from the tub when there came a knock at her door.
She froze, wooden spoon loaded and halfway to her mouth because she didn’t have to wonder who was on the other side. Her suddenly perky nipples told her.
Damn. Why had she already showered and removed her armor-slash-mascara? Why was she wearing Hello Kitty PJs? Why couldn’t she be in her Wonder Woman set?
Daisy remained still for a moment, waiting to see if maybe he’d go away, so she didn’t have to face last night’s stupid transgression.
He knocked again. Dammit. He wasn’t going away. Daisy sucked down the ice cream on her spoon before heading to the door, half of her brain trying to find ways to delay, the other half trying to make her legs move faster.
When she opened up, she expected a smile at her appearance. Or some smartass remark.
Instead, Diego met her gaze. “What happened to us?” he asked quietly.
The sentence shocked her and gave her heart an odd kick. “Um…we got naked to some hopefully mutual satisfaction. The end.”
“Definitely mutual satisfaction,” he said without a smile. “But I’m not talking about last night, and you know that.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Then that’s a far more difficult question than I’m equipped to handle right now.”
“You going to let me in?”
She moved aside. When he caught sight of the open container of ice cream, the corners of his mouth twitched. “Rocky road?”
His favorite, too. Daisy gestured to it, and he made himself at home on the couch, patting the spot next to him.
She hesitated. Not because she didn’t want Diego. She did. She wanted him badly. But she also knew what a terrible idea it would be to give in to temptation again. She could fall for him, hard.
Hell, she already had. A decade ago, and nothing had changed. But she could at least try to avoid getting hurt again.
He cocked his head. “Problem?”
“I’m trying to decide if I can trust myself to sit next to you.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Which way are you leaning?”
“Towards running for the hills.”
An almost-smile appeared. “I won’t bite. Unless you ask real nice.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” she muttered, making him laugh.
Ignoring the way the sound scraped at her good spots, she sat, making sure not to touch him. Because if she did, she knew herself. Once she felt the heat and strength of him, her brain would shut off, and her body would take over. But that wasn’t going to happen tonight. Or any night. It couldn’t, or she’d fall hard for him again and not be able to get up.
She expected him to devour the ice cream like in the old days. Back then, date night had sometimes been watching TV and eating ice cream on the couch—and then ignoring the TV and ice cream…
Diego turned to face her. She could feel the weight of his gaze, and she held her breath. Don’t ask me again…
“What happened to us? What went wrong?”
Damn. She sighed. “Diego, you know.”
“What I know is that you went to New York for that scholarship when you could have stayed and accepted your other offer right here in San Francisco.”
Daisy did her best to temper herself. He knew she’d grown up rough, always needing to have her own back. Leaving had been her one chance to get out of the gutter, and yeah, she’d taken it. But…she’d also regretted it.
With twenty-twenty hindsight being what it was, she now knew that she’d taken that offer rather than let her biggest fear come true—that she’d never make anything of herself. That she’d end up just like her mom, living off welfare and just barely getting by. “The San Francisco offer didn’t come with a full ride. I couldn’t afford that option.”
“We’d have found a way.”
She gave him a get-real look. “Really? Because when I tried to talk to you about it, you just said, ‘You gotta do what’s best for you.’”
“Daisy—”
“Look, I get it,” she said. “Your dad had just had a stroke, and Rocco bailed on you, leaving you the tattoo shop, the house, and your dad’s recovery to deal with. All of it on your shoulders. I also get that you had to give up your college experience at Cal. I never blamed you for resenting me for going to New York—"
“That wasn’t it,” Diego said tightly. “Jesus.” He shoved his fingers into his hair. “Do you really think I resented you for getting something you wanted so badly?”
She stared up into his unhappy face and let out a breath. “No. That wasn’t very kind of me to say. I know you didn’t resent me. I know you were overwhelmed. But you shut me out, Diego. I offered to help, I tried to help, but you always pushed me away, saying you had it.”
“Because if I couldn’t have my dreams of getting out,” he said, “I wanted you to have yours. And I knew that wasn’t staying and watching me go down in flames. But you faded away from me.”
The reality was that she’d left thinking that they could still make it work, but whenever she tried to stay in contact, he’d been unwilling to communicate. Their calls had slowly gotten further and further apart. And she’d felt for him because he’d been in a really bad spot. But she’d wanted to be important to him. She’d needed to be important to someone, anyone, but especially to him.
“Daisy,” he said, his voice low with frustration. “You don’t have to temper yourself, not with me, never with me. Just tell me what you’re thinking.”
“All right.” She met his gaze. “You we
re important to me,” she said. “But I didn’t feel important to you.”
He looked stunned. “You were the most important thing in my life.”
“Really? Because when I left here for school, my life fell apart. My housing fell through, and so did a good portion of my funding. I was eating ramen and peanut butter. You didn’t even realize I was couch surfing. I got what you were facing, but all I needed was for you to ask how I was.”
“God.” He drew in a breath. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I hate that you were living like that, but I didn’t realize. I was—”
“Busy. Swamped, really, and probably drowning, I know.” She softened her voice. “And I get it. You were eighteen years old and all by yourself when it came to your dad’s care, the tattoo shop, the house…everything. I hated that Rocco took off on you guys the way he did. You had to give up school and your entire life to take care of everything.”
Diego was quiet for a long moment, reflective. “When you left,” he finally said quietly, “I was…” He shook his head. “Devastated.”
“I was too. But, Diego, you checked out of our relationship way before I called it off. I felt like I was working really hard to be in a relationship with a man I loved so much but who didn’t have time for me. And I promised myself I wasn’t going to live my life being second best to the people I cared about. Not ever again.”
He looked stunned. “I…” He shook his head, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “I had no idea. What you’re describing, what I did to you, checking out like that, it’s exactly what Rocco did to me. He didn’t have time for me, not to help or be around, and I…” He shook his head again. “And I’ve hated him for it all this time. And yet I did the exact same thing to you.”
She could see the pain and regret in his eyes and felt her own fill. “Diego—”
“I’m sorry, Daisy,” he said with quiet steel, so genuinely and honestly that her throat tightened.
“I know,” she said softly. “I know it wasn’t personal. You were so young. Just a kid really, burdened with so much. Looking back, I can’t believe you handled it all with as much grace as you did, but…”
“But what?” he asked, moving closer to her, sliding his big, warm hands to her hips.
“But you need to go.”
He blinked, clearly unprepared for that.
“You have to,” she managed. “If you stay, if we keep spending time like this, I’ll fall again. And I can’t. I just can’t go through it again. Nothing can happen tonight that I’ll regret.”
Diego stilled, then with a finger under her chin, tipped her face to his. “I hear you, but you’re crying…” He gently swiped away the few tears she hadn’t even realized she’d shed. “I can’t walk away while you’re upset.”
With a sigh, she sank into him, pressing her face to his throat.
“Let me be here for you like I should have been all those years ago,” he said quietly, gathering her in. “Nothing’s going to happen, just me holding you.”
She laughed and cried at the same time. “We were never any good with just holding each other.”
“Trust me,” he murmured, slowly wrapping her up against his chest in a warm, full-body hug that had her closing her eyes and burrowing into him, taking comfort from a source she hadn’t seen coming. But everything about him was comforting, always had been. Like mac and cheese. Like ice cream. And he smelled good. So damn good. Pressing her face to the crook of his neck, she just breathed him in. And, somehow, the fingers of one hand found their way into his hair as she cuddled into his side, her other hand sliding across his abs.
How many nights had they sat just like this, watching movies, talking, laughing…making love? She closed her eyes at the thought, the scruff of his jaw rough against her face—which she loved.
Then she felt him swallow hard and pull back to stand.
“What are you doing?”
“I said you could trust me not to let anything happen. To make that true, I’ve got to go.”
His hair was tousled from her fingers, his shirt untucked, the fit of his jeans making it clear that leaving was the last thing his body wanted to do.
And yet he was going to walk away. Because she’d asked him to. “Diego.”
His dark, heated eyes met hers and softened. “Yeah?”
“Don’t go.”
He held her gaze for a beat and then slowly shook his head. “I promised you,” he said gruffly. “And I’m not going to ever break a promise to you again.” And then he was gone.
Chapter 7
Diego drove straight to Rocco’s house. The whole way over there, his sudden epiphany bounced around in his head like a ping-pong ball. Daisy had clearly spent a lot of years resenting him for what he’d done, for how he’d shut her out, closed himself off to what was happening in her life. But at the time, his life had been a chaotic disaster.
When Rocco did the same to him, Diego had hated him for it. He’d nursed a grudge for a decade now, and though he liked to pride himself on being a stand-up guy, a good man, the truth was that he hadn’t always been.
Rocco was currently living in their childhood home with Tyler. There were a lot of memories associated with the place, and it seemed like every single one of them were pummeling Diego as he walked up the path.
The last time he’d been here had been the day of his dad’s funeral. After, he’d packed to leave and never came back. He’d stood on this very walkway, a duffle bag over one shoulder, facing off with Rocco, who hadn’t wanted him to go.
Ironic, since after their dad’s stroke two years before that, Rocco had taken off for the Caribbean to blow off steam.
And he’d stayed gone until that day.
For Diego, it’d been too much. His dad was gone, and so was he.
Rocco opened the door to his knock, and for a moment, Diego couldn’t tell the past from the here and now.
Tyler came up behind Rocco, a hand on his fiancé’s shoulder whether in solidarity or restraint, Diego didn’t know. Diego met Tyler’s eyes. At whatever the man saw there, he nodded, squeezed Rocco’s shoulder, and then left the brothers alone.
“Hey,” Rocco said, clearly stunned to see him. “Uh…everything okay?”
“Yeah.” Diego shook his head. “No. Listen…I just wanted you to know that I get it now. If I’d had a chance to be with someone I was in love with in the Caribbean, I’d have stayed gone, too.”
Rocco blinked and scrubbed a hand over the top of his head in a move that Diego recognized as one his father used to do all the time when he didn’t know what to say. Even as he thought it, Diego caught himself doing the same thing and stopped.
But not before Rocco gave him a small, wry smile. “Apple and tree and all that.”
“Yeah.”
“You going to invite him in?” Tyler called from somewhere in the house. “Or stand there staring at each other like a pair of idiots?”
Another flash of a wry smile from Rocco, who backed up to let Diego in.
They ended up in the kitchen at the table where Diego had spent years doing homework, eating them out of house and home, and learning to cook so they didn’t starve. The electric outlet by the toaster on the counter still had black smudge marks from the time he’d almost burned the house down making grilled cheese.
Tyler served them tea and then gave them both a kiss on top of their heads before he left the room.
“He means well,” Rocco said but rose. He pulled a bottle of brandy from a cupboard and dumped a liberal amount into both teas.
They sat across the table from each other, awkward. Silent. Tense.
“I came to apologize,” Diego said. For all those years of silence and resentment and—”
“Don’t. Don’t apologize, not to me.” Rocco pushed his untouched tea aside and took a swig straight from the brandy bottle. “I don’t deserve it. We both know I don’t. I deserted you, Diego.”
Diego drew in a deep breath. “Yeah. But after talking to Daisy, I realized I did the sa
me thing to her that you did to me. And I had my reasons for it. They were even good ones. But I don’t want to be that guy. I’m sorry I was that guy.”
Rocco’s breath came out in a whoosh. “And I’m sorry I was a selfish dick. The fact that I always have been, isn’t an excuse, I know. But I regret like hell what I did.” He paused for another moment. When he finally went on, his voice was thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you, man.”
The words washed over Diego like a healing balm, and he nodded. “Missed you, too.”
Rocco stood and hauled Diego out of his chair as if he didn’t weigh anything and pulled him in for a bear hug. After a long moment, Rocco pushed back. “Wait a minute. If you just had that conversation with Daisy, then why the hell are you here with me? Why aren’t you guys making up for lost time?”
Diego shook his head and turned away.
“What does that mean?” Rocco asked Diego’s back. “I saw how you two looked at each other.”
“We’re not going there. I’m leaving right after the wedding.”
Rocco turned him around and stared at him as if Diego had lost his mind. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course, I’m serious. I don’t live here anymore. I live in San Diego, where I’ve got a great job being in charge of a fleet of tourist boats. I also work once a week at a tattoo shop for a buddy of mine, so I get that fix, too. Everything’s good down there for me.” Or it had been until he’d come back here and realized how little he actually felt anymore—about anything. He’d felt more in the past few days here than he had in years.
Rocco’s expression said that he called bullshit. His words proved it. “Let me give you three reasons why you should stay,” he said tightly. “One, you should be tattooing for our family legacy, at The Canvas Shop. I miss you there, big time. And you could be working at the marina here in San Fran, as well. You remember Jake?”
“Of course.” Diego and Rocco had gone to school with Jake, who’d gone straight into the military after graduation and had come home a paraplegic. He now owned and operated a fleet of tourist boats near Pier 39.