“Because you love me,” he said.
She waved her hand in defeat. “Whatever you say.” It was the truth, but again, the words would not be allowed to flow between her lips.
That would make it too real, and she’d never leave.
She had to leave.
Too many bad things happened in Seattle.
Jag hopped up on the kitchen counter and took a long swig of his beer. “How long are you here for?”
“Just a few days,” his brother Troy said. Troy was a fighter pilot for the Navy, currently stationed at Pearl Harbor. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to get here.”
“Mom and Dad were sure shocked to see you,” Jag said. “You need a place to crash?”
“Nah. I’ll stay with the folks. Besides, Ziggy says you and Callie are all cozy again.”
Jag tipped back his head, taking another sip of his beverage.
“You’re not denying it.”
Jag chuckled. “Cozy might be one way to describe it, but she plans on leaving as soon as she’s done with her book.”
“If that’s the case, why the fuck are you letting her stay with you, much less share your bed?”
“It’s complicated,” Jag admitted.
“One of the many reasons why this sailor is never going to fall in love.” Troy pulled open the fridge and pulled out a plate of leftovers. He was the third kid in the family, about two years younger than Ziggy. When Jag had been a senior in high school, Troy had been a freshman, and it had been frustrating as hell to have his baby brother make the varsity football team.
And then be a starter.
But they’d gone to states that year and won, and honestly, they couldn’t have done it without the dynamic duo of Jag in the quarterback position and Troy as the main receiver.
Jag shouldn’t feel so proud that his high school couldn’t make it to states again for many years, but he did, just a little.
“Love isn’t such a bad thing,” Jag said.
“I’m sure it’s not. I just don’t have time for it, or all the bullshit that comes with it, especially in my career.” He waved a chicken wing in the air. “Do you remember my buddy Alister?”
“You were his best man a couple of years ago.”
“Yup. And he’s getting divorced. Fucking sucks. Bitch wife of his cheated. I never liked her.” Troy tore off a big chunk of chicken between his teeth. “But Callie, she’s something special. I have to admit when I heard she was back, it made me smile, but not if she’s going to break your heart again, especially over a tell-all book that makes you look incompetent.”
“She didn’t break it. I did,” Jag corrected his little brother. “And for the record, I’ve read the draft. It actually puts me in a pretty good light, considering how I did fuck up the investigation.”
Troy jumped up on the counter and shoved the plate of food between them. When they’d been growing up, they spent a lot of time in this kitchen, sitting on this very counter in the middle of the night, discussing anything and everything. They both cried over girls and fought over football. Despite the four-year age difference, Troy had always been one of his best friends, even if they acted like they hated each other half the time.
“No matter what anyone said about her when she first left, you always defended her,” Troy said.
“She was in pain when she left. Other than me, her sister was all she had, and she had to blame someone. I made it real easy for her since I blamed myself.” Jag tossed a chicken bone on the plate. “After she flipped out at the crime scene, I had to take her home. She cried in my arms for hours. We talked the next morning, and when I left, I said something so stupid that I knew right then I’d lost her.”
“What did you say?”
“I think my exact words were something like, ‘Stop playing Nancy Drew. You’re not helping the situation. If anything, you’re getting in my way.’”
“Fuck, dude. You might as well have dumped her.”
“I know,” he said, rubbing his throbbing temples. “I’ve never told anyone but the department shrink that before. If Mom knew she’d—”
“Have your fucking head?” his mother’s voice rang out behind him.
He jumped right off the counter.
“You too, Troy. Off. Now.” His mother poked Troy in the back with her long manicured fingernail. Henrietta Bowie was one tough cookie, and she didn’t take shit from anyone, especially her kids. She ran a tight ship and demanded respect.
“Yes, ma’am,” Troy said.
“Sorry, Mom.” Jag wiped his fingers on a paper towel.
“For what? Putting your tushy on my counter or being a dickhead when it comes to the best thing that has ever happened to you?”
“Both,” he admitted.
“Good.” His mother patted his cheek with her palm. “Now tell me, what are you doing to get her back? Because if she walks out of our lives again, this mama bear isn’t going to be so happy. And no one likes it when I’m miserable.”
“I’m working on it,” Jag said. “I hope the rest of this family isn’t scaring her off. You all are part of the reason we kept our relationship a secret in the first place.”
His mother laughed. “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“I’m with Mom on this one,” Troy said, still waving around a chicken wing. The man never stopped eating. “It started off as a booty call.”
“Troy Markus Bowie. Don’t you dare refer to that amazing young woman as a booty call.”
“But that’s what she started out as.” Troy tossed his hands to the sides.
“I’d prefer to think of it as Jag being her whatever call.”
Jag laughed. “She did call me the first few times.”
His mother smacked the backside of his head. Didn’t stop him from laughing. While his parents raised him to be respectful, their family, when alone, had no filter.
And Mom was the worst.
“Let’s forget the
