Redeeming (Red Lips & White Lies Book 2)
Redeeming: Part 1 – Chapter 8

Callen

I need your advice on something.

Cooper

Pulling out isn’t effective.

Callen

Dude. You’re married to my sister.

Cooper

What’s your point . . . ?

—Text from Callen to Cooper

Carys hands me a cup of tea, reminding me so much of Mom that it’s a little freaky. “You doing okay, little brother? I know it’s been a heavy few days.”

“Thanks, Carys.” I splash some milk in the mug, even though it’s a hundred degrees outside and I’d rather be drinking a beer. My sister stands there, waiting me out like she thinks she’s preparing for the fall or something. “I’m fine.”

Pretty sure I’ve never said that as much as I have these past few days.

She nods but doesn’t believe me. It’s written all over her face.

“If you say so.” She leans her elbows on the marble counter and stares me down. “You think you’ll get any playing time Thursday night?”

“Maybe one series. They’ll tell me whether I’m dressing for the game tomorrow.” Most teams won’t risk their starters getting injured during preseason. These games aren’t for us. They’re for the rest of the team to evaluate the players and the plays. But preseason games don’t count for anything. Not for standings. Not for playoffs. Not for bonuses. And they won’t risk the money makers. Why should they? “Why? You coming?”

She looks away and wipes at her eye. “Yeah. We all are. We want to make sure we’re there in case it ends up being Coach’s last game.”

Yeah. There’s the fucking purple spotted elephant in the corner of the goddamn room.

“I think it’s gonna be,” Cooper adds as he walks into the kitchen, looking at something on his iPad. I was too young to remember Coop as a SEAL. After he retired, he managed money for a while. Pretty sure he never has to work another day in his life if he doesn’t want to, but you’d never know it. That’s not his way. These days, he’s a consultant for a private military group. It gives him plenty of time to be involved with his three kids. Especially since Carys’s lingerie brand has skyrocketed over the past ten years.

He looks me over skeptically. “Kinda late in the day for a run . . .”

“Yeah. Just wanted to clear my head and ended up here.” Cooper and I meet a few times a week for a run. Sometimes Declan will join us. Every now and then, Brady will too. Never Murphy. He’s not a runner. Most of the time though, it’s just Coop and me.

“Come on.” He slaps my back and heads to the kitchen door. “Let’s grab some rods.”

I look from him through the glass door out to the lake at the end of the property. “It’s hot as balls outside.”

Carys giggles and leaves us to it. “Have fun, boys.”

She kisses Coop’s cheek, and he smacks her ass as I look away.

My entire family is like this. None of them are afraid of PDA.

None. Of. Them.

Growing up, it was sickening. Family vacations were hazardous to your health. At least as a teenage boy. Nobody wants to see their dad grabbing their mom’s ass. Or worse. The outdoor showers at our beach compound have seen a whole lot of action. And most of it wasn’t from my generation until recently.

Well . . . at least as far as anyone knows.

Not gonna lie. Now I kind of get it. At least I think I do.

I could easily see myself unable to keep my hands off Caitlin twenty years from now.

If Maddox doesn’t fucking kill me first.

“Come on, kid.” Cooper pushes through the door and grabs the fishing rods leaning against the back of the house and two beers from the outdoor fridge, and I follow him down to his new dock. He and Carys have always lived on the lake. But it was only about ten years ago that the land across the lake from them went on the market. They bought it, built this house, and have used their original house as a rental property ever since. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

I laugh. “You know you have actual kids. Ones I’m ten years older than, by the way.”

He casts his rod and cracks his beer. “Did I ever tell you when you were little and I lived on the other side of the country, I worried you wouldn’t know who the hell I was? You, Everly, and Gracie . . . the three of you barely knew me. And I swore when I came home, I’d fix it. Kid, by the time I was your age, I was married with three kids of my own. But getting to watch you grow up . . . Getting to be here for it. Not everyone gets that chance, and I was grateful. So, yeah. I guess you’ll always be a kid to me. I don’t mean it as disrespect.”

“Yeah . . .” I cast my rod and sit in an Adirondak chair next to him, definitely the one grateful now. Not just for Coop but all my crazy-ass siblings. “I don’t take it that way either. It just cracks me up.”

We sit in silence as the late afternoon sun dips down behind the falls across Kroydon Lake until Cooper finally pushes me. “You gonna tell me what’s bothering you? Is it Dad?”

“I mean . . . The stuff with Dad is fucking with me.”

It’s not a lie.

It’s not exactly the whole truth either.

“What else is on your mind, Callen?”

“You ever done something you knew was right but you knew it was fucked up too?” I ask, not ready to give him specifics but needing someone to talk to.

Caitlin wasn’t wrong this morning.

We rushed into things last night.

But how the hell can it be rushed when it’s been years in the making?

Cooper stares blankly at me before his lips curve. “I married your sister. Pretty sure a whole lot of people in our family thought it was pretty fucked up at first.”

“I’ve heard stories . . .” I nod, knowing there’s so much I don’t know. Probably don’t want to know. “How’d you handle knowing it could fuck up your relationship with Murphy?”

He, Murphy, Brady, and Caitlin’s Uncle Bash were all best friends growing up.

That didn’t change when Murphy’s mom married Cooper’s dad.

I’m betting it got complicated.

Almost thirty years later, we’re a powerhouse family.

Cooper looks at me. “Tell me you’re not in love with Bellamy Wilder.”

“What?” I laugh. “No.”

Bellamy’s brothers both married Sinclair sisters. Pretty sure that’s enough.

“Good. No need to keep it that much in the family.” He looks at my unopened beer, and his look changes. It hardens. “I’m not going to ask then. I’m just going to tell you to be sure. Before you hurt someone. Anyone . . . be sure whatever it is, is worth it.”

I stare off in the distance, knowing no matter what I do, I’m fucking over someone I love.

And that’s the thing about Caitlin . . . She’s Cait. Without ever saying it, I love her. I always have. Not in the same sense. But she’s always meant something to me. I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t want to hurt Maddox. I don’t want to fuck it all up.

“Can you imagine your life without her? Can you live without her touch?” Cooper asks, and I consider playing dumb, but I came today because Coop’s the brother who’d get it. Who would understand me without me ever having to fill in the blanks.

“It’s early . . .”

“That’s a boy’s answer, Callen.”

Fuck.

That hits hard.

“A man knows. Be the man you’re supposed to be.” He pulls his line out of the water and recasts. “You know . . . our old house is empty. The tenant moved out a few weeks ago, and we haven’t put it back on the market yet.”

I think about that for a few minutes.

“You think you could hold off on listing it for a few weeks? I think I need to figure a few things out.” Maybe a little distance would help. Or maybe I need a plan for when Maddox fucking kills me.

Callen

Want to grab dinner with me?

Kitten

Like a date?

Won’t people see?

Callen

People will see two friends getting dinner. They won’t see what I’ll do to you after.

Kitten

Does this mean you didn’t call Maddox?

Callen

It means I want to take you out, Caitlin.

Kitten

Okay.

Caitlin

When Callen suggested dinner, I assumed he’d meant West End . . . I hadn’t planned on walking around the cobblestone streets of Chestnut Hill. The tiny town not far from Kroydon Hills has a great vibe. White fairy lights are strung from the trees as live music trails out from the local bars. Callen holds my hand in his as we make our way to a small restaurant right off the main street and asks for a seat in the back.

“You afraid to be seen with me, Sinclair?” I tease him, knowing we don’t look anything like friends right now. We look very much like a couple on a date, and I love it. This is what it could be. This is what we could have . . . if he’d let us.

“Not at all, Cait.” He thanks the waiter, then pulls out my chair. “I don’t feel like having fans come up to us all night to talk about tomorrow’s game.”

“Good answer.” I smile as I drape my napkin over my lap and look at the menu, but Callen just sits and stares at me, making my cheeks flush. This man makes me self-conscious in a way I never am. “What?”

“Have I told you how pretty you look tonight, Caitlin?”

I sit a little straighter, unable to tell him how long I’ve waited to hear those words from him. “You have now.”

His leg brushes mine under the table, sending an electric current coursing over my skin as the silence between us reaches almost deafening levels.

“So . . .” I finally say just as he starts at the same time.

“About last night . . .”

“You first,” I tell him, hating this weird awkwardness between us.

We’re good at acting like the other doesn’t exist.

It’s how we’ve coexisted for so long.

Ignorance is bliss, and all that crap.

But this . . . this is painful.

This feels strangely forced. Not the being with Callen part. The part where we’re supposed to act like nothing happened.

“We—”

The waiter interrupts us to read the specials and take our drink orders, but Callen’s eyes never leave mine, locked on me with an almost predatory glint.

When it’s finally just the two of us again, Callen grabs my hand. “Cait . . . I’m not saying last night shouldn’t have happened. But we should have talked. I should have taken you on a date. I should have done a lot of things before last night happened. Things you deserve.”

“Things we can do now,” I protest, not sure where he’s going with this. “There’s no right order, Callen. It’s whatever’s right for us, not for everyone else.”

“Is there an us?” He shutters his eyes, and every inch of my body goes on high alert.” We didn’t exactly take the time to talk about it.”

“No, we didn’t talk about that last night, but I’m pretty sure I spelled that out for you this morning,” I snap a little more harshly than I probably should have. “What do you want, Callen? Is it me?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and my defenses soar. “If it’s not me, that’s okay. We can go back to acting like we don’t matter to each other. Like last night never happened. I’ve watched you with everyone but me for eight years. I can do it again.” I pull my hand away from his. “But make no mistake, Sinclair. I won’t be here in another year, waiting for you. This is your chance. You don’t get a third.”

Callen reaches across the table, palm up, waiting.

When I don’t place my hand back in his, he reaches under the table and grabs it, holding it in my lap. “Christ, Caitlin. Not all of us answer as fast as you. It takes most of the rest of the world a few minutes to compose a thought. That doesn’t mean I don’t want you. It doesn’t mean I want to act like nothing happened. I’ll never be able to act like that again. I’ve done that once, and that was hard enough.”

“Oh . . .” I lick my lips and lean back as the waiter delivers my wine and Callen’s soda.

“Are you ready to order?” He looks between Callen and me and waits.

“Could you give us a few minutes?” Callen asks him.

But as the waiter walks away this time, there’s no uncomfortable silence. “I wasn’t sure—” I start, before he cuts me off.

“And that’s my fault, Cait. I know I hurt you before. But I need you to understand something. In college⁠—”

“God, Callen. Can we not?” I ask, still mortified.

“If we’re doing this thing, we need to do it right,” he tells me with this quiet confidence I replace so incredibly sexy. Callen Sinclair is loud most of the time. He jokes and teases. But it’s the quiet moments that I’ve always thought were at the heart of him. “That means clearing a few things up. Like that night.”

I close my eyes. “Like that night.”

“You were eighteen, Caitlin. Barely eighteen. And I had a girlfriend. One I’d been with for four years.”

I cringe at the memory that’s burned into my brain.

The way I snuck into his room . . .

The nerves I felt then and the humiliation I felt when he rejected me.

He squeezes my hand, then slides his under my sundress and rests it on my bare thigh. “And I was twenty-two, about to be drafted.”

“Callen . . .” I’m not sure what I even want to say.

“It took every ounce of strength I had to turn you down, kitten.” His words are jagged and harsh. “I swear on my life, Cait. I’ve thought about that night a million times since. But I couldn’t. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheat. And I’m not a shit friend. Not until last night. But fuck . . . Caitlin. I wasn’t the right man for you then. I was barely a fucking man. I was a kid who was about to get the keys to the fucking kingdom.”

“And I was just a kid . . .” I whisper, wishing I could take it back.

“A kid with more confidence than most grown men I know.”

I swallow my nerves and somehow manage to keep my voice steady. “And now?”

“Now I’m a man who knows what I want, Cait. It’s the same thing I’ve wanted for four fucking years.” God, those words . . . I’ve waited so long to hear those words and had given up hope I ever would.

“What changed, Callen? Why now?” I can’t believe I’m even asking. But I need to know. “Because I meant it when I said I can’t keep doing this. Not now. Not after last night.”

“You changed it. For four years, I’ve fought this. I guess I don’t have the fight left in me to fight it anymore.”

“Wow. Is that supposed to make me feel good about myself? I’ve worn you down? Seriously?” I glare as the waiter brings the rolls and salads, but Callen refuses to let go of my hand.

I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s supposed to tell you this isn’t something I take lightly. You’re important to me. You always have been . . .” He leaves his sentence hanging.

“Let me guess . . . but so is my brother.” I feel like this is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“You know he is, Cait.”

“So where does that leave us?” I ask, getting dizzy from this merry-go-round but not willing to get off it. Unsure if I’ll ever be ready.

“You tell me.”

“I just want a chance to figure out what’s going on before we tell the world,” I plead. “We shouldn’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

“I don’t think we have to figure it all out. Just what matters to us. And, yeah, Maddox is one of those things. He comes home Friday, Cait, and I’m not willing to lie to him. Not just because it’s him, but because I don’t want to start this . . . us . . . on a lie. We’re going to have enough stacked against us. I’m not letting that be one of the things too.”

“He’s never going to be okay with this.” My stomach drops at the thought of what’s coming.

“I’d rather have him pissed because of the truth than furious over a lie.”

Well hell . . . when he puts it that way . . .