Sinful (3 page)

“Are you telling me you were scared of the dark in Afghanistan?”

“Lots of times.”

“But you’ve got a bunch of medals!”

“Medals don’t mean you weren’t scared. They just
mean you didn’t run away, that you stayed around to fight.”

“Oh.” Looking at Connor, it was hard to imagine him sitting frightened in the dark waiting to do battle. “Do you ever have nightmares?”

“Sometimes. Not as bad as some guys, though. I feel bad for the ones who can’t leave it all behind.”

“And you have?”

He shrugged. “Mostly. That’s why I bought my ranch, so vets can come for R&R—that’s rest and recuperation—if they find they need a break.”

“When did you buy this place? Why didn’t I hear about it?” Eve asked.

“The deal didn’t go through until after Molly died.”

That explained why she hadn’t heard more about his plans from her friend. But pretty much everything the Flynns did got discussed over the Grayhawk supper table, so why hadn’t she heard about Connor’s purchase of a large tract of land in Teton County? He answered her question before she asked.

“I made the purchase through a corporation I created. I didn’t want either of our fathers interfering,” he said with a wry smile. “So the Flynn name isn’t anywhere on the documents.”

“Oh.” That explained a lot. “How big is this ranch of yours?”

“A thousand acres, which includes the main house where I plan to live with the kids, a lodge for dining and recreation, a bunkhouse, and several cabins. It used to be a dude ranch, so it’s already set up for a lot of people to live there comfortably. I’m calling it Safe Haven.”

“Where is this place, exactly?”

“A little east of my dad’s ranch. My land actually borders the Lucky 7 in a couple of places.”

“I wonder what Molly would have thought about what you’re doing,” Eve murmured.

“Frankly, she wasn’t in favor of the idea. But it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

Eve wondered why Molly hadn’t discussed this plan of Connor’s with her. More likely she’d kept it to herself because she’d known Eve would be on Connor’s side. Molly had talked endlessly about moving away from Jackson Hole—a tiny town that swelled up like a bloodthirsty tick with tourists on their way to or from Yellowstone National Park in the summer—to some metropolitan area like Denver, once Connor left the army.

Eve thought the ranch was a fantastic idea. But she could see where it wouldn’t have appealed to Molly, who was sick and tired of Jackson Hole, where the peace and quiet was often far too peaceful and quiet. Molly didn’t ski, so she’d itched for something more exciting to do through the long winter months than watch the feathery snow fall or listen to bull elks bugle during mating season.

“You’re not even a little worried about being alone with Brooke and Sawyer?” Eve asked. “About them fearing the dark, or missing Molly, or not wanting to leave their grandparents?”

“Just give me my kids,” Connor said fiercely. “I’ll worry about the small stuff later.”

“T
HEREFORE
, I’
M AWARDING
full custody of the children, Brooke and Sawyer Flynn, to their father, Connor Flynn.”

Dead silence reigned in the courtroom at the judge’s pronouncement. Connor was stunned. He’d won. He rose and found his three brothers, Aiden, Brian, and Devon, jostling to their feet behind him, smiling from ear to ear. Aiden reached out first to hug him across the courtroom rail. Connor held on, afraid that if he let go, the tears that were threatening would fall. His chin began to quiver, and he gritted his teeth to still it.

He felt Brian slap him on the back and saw Devon’s reassuring thumbs-up through eyes blurred with tears of joy. One escaped, and he let go of Aiden to roughly brush it away. He turned to shake hands with his father, who put a comforting hand on his shoulder as he shot a nasty look in the direction of King Grayhawk, who was sitting directly behind Molly’s parents.

“A hundred to one that son of a bitch had something to do with the Robertsons trying to steal my grandkids away,” Angus said.

Connor wasn’t so sure, especially since it was Eve Grayhawk’s testimony about Molly’s wishes that seemed to swing the judge in his favor. Surely King’s daughter wouldn’t have defied her father’s wishes when he was sitting right there in the courtroom.

Then he remembered what Eve had told him last night. How she and her sisters had been given one year to find somewhere else to live. How she would soon have no land on which she could graze the wild mustangs she’d saved from slaughter. Most likely he had King Grayhawk’s bad behavior to thank for Eve being so determined to testify on his behalf.

Connor couldn’t believe he’d kissed her. Or how much he’d enjoyed it. He’d wanted to hold her in his arms and keep on kissing her, but he’d been stabbed with thorns of guilt. He’d loved his wife, but he’d been attracted to Eve Grayhawk ever since he’d seen her standing by her locker, which happened to be directly across from his locker, the year she started high school.

Connor had been stunned by the change in Eve’s appearance over the summer. The gangly girl was gone. In her place was a voluptuous siren. His body had reacted so quickly and strongly to the sight of her gamine smile, sparkling blue eyes, and spectacular curves that he’d been late for his first class while he waited for his arousal to subside. It had taken a while for his heart to catch up to his little head, but before long he’d been besotted.

After all the things she and her sisters had done to him and his brothers, however justified, it would have been blasphemy to admit that he liked her. But he shot longing looks at her whenever he was sure nobody
was looking. That whole “Eve” business had started when his younger brother, Devon, had caught him watching her, and he’d needed to come up with something to deflect attention from the fact that he was ogling one of King’s Brats.

His eyes had locked with hers once as they passed each other on the way to class, with the result that his heart had pounded and his palms had been sweaty and his throat had been dry for five minutes after she turned away. A couple of times he thought she was going to cross the hall to speak to him. But she never did.

Instead, Molly Robertson, whose locker was right next to Eve’s, had come running up to tell him how glad she was that he’d agreed to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance with her. He’d lifted his gaze and seen the guilty look on Eve’s face as she stood by her locker. He’d put a sneer on his face that only she could see, then turned his most winsome smile on the petite, pretty girl standing in front of him. “I’m looking forward to it,” he told her.

His chest ached for an hour afterward.

The date with Molly had turned out to be a surprise. He’d been determined to have a good time, just to show Eve she hadn’t gotten the better of him. He’d also had visions of making her jealous. But Molly wasn’t just cute as a button—an expression he never would have applied to Eve, who held herself far too regally ever to be called “cute”—she was also a lot of fun. She was a good dancer, quick-witted, and had hazel eyes that shone all night with joy and excitement. It was impossible not to like her.

He’d shot one long glance at Eve during the Sadie
Hawkins dance, and she’d ignored him a little too pointedly. He’d figured maybe he was onto something with that jealousy idea, especially since it turned out Molly and Eve were best friends. So he and Molly had gone out again, along with a couple of friends. And had a wonderful time again.

There was a lot of satisfaction in the disgruntled look on Eve’s face the whole next week when she showed up at her locker. Enough to send him out on a date with Molly for a third time.

That was when he’d made his mistake. Molly had turned to him before getting out of his pickup at the end of their date and looked into his eyes. He’d known what she wanted. It would have seemed odd if he didn’t end their third encounter with some show of affection. In fact, she’d looked at him strangely at the end of their second outing when he’d walked her to her door, then ruffled her hair and patted her butt before sending her inside.

So he’d kissed her.

He hadn’t expected to like kissing Molly. He hadn’t expected to become aroused by it. He’d thought his heart was too firmly fixed on Eve for any other girl to grab hold of it. Boy, had he been wrong. Molly was an irresistible force. And pretty soon he’d no longer wanted to resist her.

They’d gone steady the rest of the year. He’d stopped looking at Eve, although he couldn’t avoid seeing her every day, since their lockers were so close. He’d told himself he’d been lucky to escape one of those fanatical Grayhawk girls.

He’d known all along that he would be joining the army and leaving Jackson at the end of the school
year, and that there was at least a chance that he was never coming back. When he headed off to boot camp, Molly was just starting her sophomore year. He’d told her not to wait for him, but he might as well have saved his breath.

Molly never stopped writing. Never stopped caring.

When he was home on leave a year later he’d seen Eve at Old West Days and felt anew that sense of loss—and a pang of regret for what might have been. Her eyes were suspicious when he’d purposely “by accident” bumped into her, knocking her ice cream cone from her hand. Replacing the cone had given him a chance to speak to her. His heart had raced as he reached out to thumb away a bit of ice cream on the edge of her mouth.

He’d known then that he wasn’t really over her. That he would probably never be over her. But if anything, the animosity between their families had gotten worse. It was that stupid bet Brian had made with Aiden that he couldn’t get Leah to fall in love with him.

She’d fallen. And then found out about the bet.

After all the heartache, Grayhawks were never going to get along with Flynns. And Flynns were always going to resent Grayhawks for what had happened to Aunt Jane.

He loved being with Molly, loved who she was as a person. She always believed in the good in people. And she could always make him laugh. By the time he’d spent a year in Afghanistan, he’d needed someone like her in his life. He’d known the hell he would be making for himself if he married Molly, because
Molly and Eve were inseparable friends. But he didn’t want to take the chance of some other guy stealing Molly away while he was overseas, as had happened to so many of his buddies. So he’d proposed.

He wondered later if he’d done it because he was headed for another tour in Afghanistan and feared his luck might be running out, and if he wanted to leave a part of himself—a son or daughter—behind after he was gone from this world, this might be his last chance. Whatever had impelled him to commit, he’d ended up marrying Molly.

He and Molly had gotten along well throughout their marriage, and they had two amazing kids. He just hadn’t counted on how often he’d end up having to spend time in Eve’s company. His kids adored Eve as much as his wife did, so she was always around. Connor believed in fidelity in marriage, so he’d been careful never to be alone with her. He’d always figured better safe than sorry. He didn’t have to resist temptation if it was never in his path.

He’d felt guilty whenever he found himself listening to Eve a little too attentively or laughing with her a little too eagerly or—God help him—wanting her a little too much. He’d had dreams in Afghanistan from which he awoke breathing erratically, his body hard and ready. Far too many of them did not feature his wife.

No wonder he’d felt ashamed and upset last night when he’d gotten hard as a rock holding the woman who’d haunted those dreams. He was finally free to pursue a woman he’d secretly loved the whole time he was married, but the cost had come too high. Molly
had been precious to him, and it was hard to imagine his life without her.

When he’d kissed Eve last night, shame and regret had swelled in his chest. Desire had died a quick and certain death, and grief and guilt had taken its place.

It was painful to admit that he hadn’t been a very good husband. He’d left his wife alone too often. She’d raised their kids by herself during the long months he’d been deployed. He could have used injuries he’d suffered to avoid that third deployment, but he’d wanted to be there to watch out for his buddies. He should have been home watching out for his wife. He should have taken better care of her. If he had, she might still be alive.

He was glad Eve had stayed to talk after he’d made that stupid move to kiss her. Glad that they were going to continue the truce—an unspoken agreement to forgo Grayhawk-Flynn hostilities—that they’d managed to maintain throughout his marriage.

Connor’s musing was interrupted by Mrs. Robertson, who was sobbing loudly into a lacy handkerchief. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for his late wife’s parents. He hadn’t wanted to take their grandchildren away from them, but they’d given him no choice. Maybe someday they could mend fences. Right now, he didn’t trust them. No one was stealing his children away again.

“What time should we expect you and the kids at the house?” his father asked.

Connor hesitated. After the purchase was complete, he’d told his family that he’d bought Safe Haven, but he’d represented his purchase of the former
dude ranch to them as a charitable project, a much-needed refuge for returning vets. He hadn’t been at all sure he’d win in court, so he’d said nothing to them about his plans to move there himself if he got custody of his kids.

Connor was anxious to take Brooke and Sawyer to their new home. Anxious to start his new life as a single father. “I won’t be bringing the kids back to the Lucky 7 tonight,” he said at last.

“Is there some problem picking them up?” his father asked.

“No, Dad.” In fact, they were being taken care of in another room at the courthouse by a social worker, who had instructions to deliver them and their belongings to whichever party arrived with the appropriate court documents.

Connor glanced from face to sobered face as he announced to his brothers, “I’m going to spend my first night with my kids at Safe Haven.”

He expected outbursts of protest, but his brothers had apparently been stunned into silence.

“Just you and the kids?” Devon said. “Isn’t that a little risky?”

“What do you mean?” Connor asked.

“I mean, what if they miss their grandparents? What if they start crying? What are you going to do?”

Connor gave Devon the same answer he’d given Eve. “I managed a Delta team. I think I can handle two little kids.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Devon warned.

“I agree. It should be a lot easier handling the kids,” Connor said with a wry grin.

“Safe Haven is a long way off if you need to call for help,” Aiden pointed out.

What he said was true. Jackson Hole was bordered by the Teton, Gros Ventre, and Wind River mountain ranges, each reaching more than ten thousand feet in elevation, which made the first half hour of the drive to his ranch, through Grand Teton National Park, absolutely spectacular. The second half of the drive, on mostly dirt roads, ran smack through the Bridger Teton National Forest. Even in the best of conditions—and conditions weren’t always good—the trip took an hour.

“I’m not going to need help,” Connor said stubbornly.

“You’re out of your mind,” his father said. “You can’t possibly take care of two babies—because they’re just babies at two and four—on your own.”

Connor felt the flush begin at his throat and rise to his cheeks. He’d never been able to control the blush that rose on his fair Irish skin when he was angry or excited. Right now he was both. “Say it a little louder, why don’t you, Dad, so the judge can hear you?”

Aiden, ever the peacemaker, stepped into Connor’s line of vision and asked, “When are you supposed to pick up Brooke and Sawyer?”

“As soon as I have the documents from the court clerk.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend at least the first night at home?” Devon asked. “I mean, just in case?”

Connor smiled confidently, a look he’d given to soldiers under his command which hid the terror he
felt before a firefight. “I appreciate your offers of help. Really, I do. But I’ve got this.”

“Since Molly…” Aiden’s voice trailed off. “We’ve missed the kids. Will you at least bring them to visit sometime soon?”

“Sure,” Connor promised as he fought to speak past the sudden knot in his throat.

Connor realized he had to get away from his family or he was liable to break down in tears again. He was feeling joyful all right, but also angry. About the time he’d lost with Brooke and Sawyer. About having to live his life without Molly. About wanting a woman with the wrong last name. About losing buddies who shouldn’t have had their lives cut short.

He fought back the anger, which a very good army therapist had told him he needed to deal with sooner rather than later.

It was the unpredictability of war that had finally gotten to him, the sheer arbitrariness of who lived and who died in battle. Even when a good man survived the war, he wasn’t home free. There were inner demons to be battled, the consequences of killing other humans or holding some buddy in your arms as he died an agonizing death, torn apart by bullets or a bomb. Worst of all was the guilt you felt for being fiercely glad that you were still alive when your buddy was dead.