Daring Devotion (11 page)

T
he two men sat with their heads together in earnest conversation, never noticing the attention they were garnering from every woman in the room. One was small, sleek, with the face of an angel, the other was not as handsome but attractive in his own way, his defining feature being large, rippling muscles that seemed to cover his whole body. The kind that made a woman want to run her hands over every inch of him to see if he was real. So different in appearance it would not occur to a casual observer that they may be related.

From the moment his little brother came into the world, Cal had to listen to exclamations regarding his looks. Everything from “Cal, isn't your little brother a beautiful baby?” That one came from his favorite aunt, Aunt Felicia. To girls in school accosting him in the halls for introductions. “Cal, why don't you hook me up with that fine brother of yours?” That one came from a cheerleader named Merika, a girl Cal had had a crush on for the first two years of middle school.

But despite all the adoration and praise his little brother got for his unusual good looks, Cal could never bring himself to resent Steve. Despite appearances, they were brothers in every sense of the word.

From the moment Steve could toddle around behind Cal, he'd followed his big brother everywhere. Most of his ideas and opinions had subconsciously been formed by that connection, and Cal soon learned that it was difficult to not like someone who worshipped the ground you walked on.

Now they were both men, and equal in their own right, living thousands of miles apart and seeing each other rarely. But at times like this, sitting together, discussing their lives over a beer in the pool hall, they were just two brothers, sharing their thoughts and dreams, hopes and fears, and leaning heavily on each other.

“So, what are you going to do? Cancel the wedding?”

Cal sat with the beer mug between his hands, frowning down into the amber liquid. “No.”

Steve tilted his head. He did not want to state the most obvious, and worst possibility, but someone had to. “But, what if she doesn't show up next week? Shouldn't you warn people who may be traveling from out of town?”
Or out of the country?
Steve kept the sarcastic remark to himself. It was the last thing his brother needed now.

“She'll show.”

Steve studied Cal's pensive expression, trying to determine if he really believed that the woman who'd walked out on her own wedding rehearsal dinner planned to show for the actual wedding, or if he was just in really deep denial, but said nothing.

“She will,” Cal snapped, but it came out as more of a growl. He took a deep breath to regain control of his slipping temper.

Steve's eyebrows lifted.
But what if she doesn't?

The two sat in brooding silence for a while, before a thought occurred to Cal. “When are you scheduled to return to Africa?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“I was actually considering extending my vacation.”

“Great. I know Mama will be happy to hear that.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at his brother as he considered returning to the most pressing topic. He knew he would have to find a different approach, but one way or another there were decisions that had to be made.

“Have you talked to Andrea since last night?”

Cal sighed heavily. “No. I keep calling, but she won't answer her phone.”

There was so much Steve wanted to ask. But his brother was a private man—he always had been. What he had to say he would get to in his own time and in his own way. Until then, all Steve could do was try to be supportive.

Thoughts of love and loss automatically drew his mind to the locket in his pocket. His hand subconsciously went to it. “Cal. What do you know about Candace Pippins?”

“Cavanaugh's cousin?” Cal glanced at his brother with a knowing expression. “Not much, other than the fact that she's
married,
and
has a kid
.”

Steve smiled. “It's all right man, no need for the warning, I know all that. I'm not trying to get with her. I was wondering more about her family.”

“What about her family?”

“Where are her people from?”

“I think most of them are in Savannah, but they're Creole, so maybe…Louisiana originally. Not sure, exactly.” Cal tilted his head to the side and looked up at his brother in concern. “Where's all this coming from?”

Steve thought in silence for a moment, not knowing how what he was about to say would be accepted. Then he reached into his shirt and pulled the locket over his shirt, reaching behind his neck he undid the clasp and handed it to his brother.

Cal opened the locket and noticed the resemblance right away. “Whoa. Who is this?”

“Don't know, just found it in an antique store a few years ago. According to the dealer, it is at least a hundred years old.”

“Wow.” Cal flipped the small locket over in his hand, examining the intricately carved engravings. He turned it back over and looked at the picture of the woman inside once more. “I get why you're asking about Candace. This lady does look a lot like her.” He looked at the picture once more. “Eerie.”

“I know.” He paused. “So much so I'm wondering if maybe she could be a distant relative.”

Cal's eyes widened. “Hmm, I guess anything is possible.” He handed the locket back to his brother. “Why don't you ask Cavanaugh, he'd probably know.”

“Thanks, I'll do that. Wanna shoot some balls?” Steve nodded in the direction of an empty table.

Cal drank the last of his beer and nodded. “Why not.”

Steve racked the balls and leaned across the table to take the first shot. He was trying to shoot the eight ball in the corner pocket but he missed. He turned to chalk his cue, waiting for Cal to take his shot, then noticed Cal had not moved from the other side of the table where he stood leaning on his stick.

“Cal?”

Cal snapped to attention hearing his name. “Oh, sorry man.” He moved around the table trying to find the right shot. He finally found it, and bent over the table to take it. He missed, as well.

When he stepped back Steve was watching his face. “What's Andrea's problem with you, anyway?” he asked quietly.

“Don't ask.” Cal shook his head.

Steve bent forward to take his shot.

“She knew what I was when we met! How the hell can she use it as an excuse to break up with me a year later?” He huffed. “A week before our wedding!”

It seemed the dam had burst. Steve took his shot and managed to get the five ball in the side pocket. “If you ask me, I think she is just having last-minute jitters.”

“Women don't have last-minute jitters, Steve, that's a guy thing.”

“I'm just saying, like you said, she knew a year ago that you were a firefighter, so why is this an issue now?”

“It's not just my occupation,” Cal said quietly, chalking his stick.

Steve stopped and studied his brother's face, and knew instantly what he was thinking. “You're still having those nightmares?”

Cal nodded.

“Cal, you know if you ever expect to return to active duty, you're going to have to open up to someone and talk about this.”

Cal took his shot, and a stony silence fell over the pair. Steve said nothing more. His brother was a proud man.

Some fifteen minutes later, there were only three balls left on the table. Cal leaned his hip on the table and gently tapped his stick against the floor. “They are about Andrea.”

“What?” Steve was so startled by his brother's comment that he missed the shot.

“The dreams, they are about Andrea.”

A few minutes later they were back at the table, having given up on the game.

“Does she know?” Steve asked, leaning on his folded arms.

“Don't you get it, man? That's why I can't talk to her about it.” Cal rubbed his large hand over his head. “I mean, when they were just about the fire, they were bad enough. But now…how do you tell the woman you love that every night when you close your eyes you see her dying, again and again?”

Steve touched his brother's arm to express his understanding. Never had he imagined that this was what Cal was struggling with. “I understand why you don't want to tell her about that. But what choice do you have?”

Cal glanced at him. “None, which is why I'm not telling her.”

“Cal, you don't want to lose her, and all she wants is for you to share your fears with her.”

“Not this.”

“Come on, Cal, think about it—”

Cal shot up out of his chair and dug into his pocket for his wallet. “Look, man, I appreciate you letting me bend your ear. And I appreciate your concern, but this time, little brother—” he tossed a handful of bills on the table “—you don't know what the hell you're talking about.”

Andrea heard a sound and pressed the mute button on the remote. After a few seconds more, she realized it was the chain on her front door rattling back and forth. She sighed in resignation. She'd been expecting this visit.

Slowly she unbent her body from where she sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed and went into the living room.

The first thing she saw was a long, brown arm in the partially opened entryway. Apparently, he'd used his key and unlocked her apartment door and found his entrance blocked by the chain. He was trying to twist his hand around in some sort of a contortionist movement to remove the security chain from the outside. She shook her head. Instead of calling out to her for help, this was his answer to the problem. Herein lay the crux of their problems: he would rather struggle alone than simply ask for help.

Andrea stood silently with her arms folded over her chest wondering how long he would attempt the futile action before finally giving up. She'd originally hooked the chain when she came in the night before fearing Cal would follow her home. Having only just made her decision, she knew she would not have been strong enough to stand against his big strong comforting arms and soft brown eyes if he'd come into the apartment using the key she'd given him.

There wouldn't have been any groundbreaking confessions or serious contemplation of their problems. Just wild, hot, animalistic lovemaking. Andrea didn't kid herself into believing anything else. She needed time and distance to organize her thoughts and consider her actions. She'd waited for hours but he didn't follow her home. Although her phone continually rang, she could see on the ID caller that it was primarily her parents and her girlfriends. Around midnight, she finally unplugged the phone, curled in a ball and cried herself to sleep.

When she awoke, in the light of day, she was forced to admit her behavior the previous night had been extreme, but now there was no dignified way to undo it. She'd stormed out of her own wedding rehearsal in front of all her family and friends. Unless she wanted to appear flaky and indecisive, she was now forced to stand behind her position. She'd accidentally backed herself into a corner, and now the only way out was forward.

Andrea realized last night she'd taken their wedding hostage, and now Cal was here to hear her ransom demands. Even as she steeled herself for the task, some part of her was terrified that he would not be willing to pay the price necessary to win her heart.

Cal suddenly stopped pulling at the chain, when he sensed her presence on the other side of the door. The feeling was confirmed by the familiar scent of cologne that came through the crack in the door and drifted into his nose, sensual and arousing.

He pressed his head against the wood door, considering how this must look from her point of view. When he'd first decided to come here, he hadn't really taken the time to formulate a plan or consider what to say. He was flying on pure instinct, believing that if he could just get her in his arms he could convince her that she belonged with him. But when he found the door chained, something snapped inside him. Something about the small gesture seemed too final, too complete.

“When did you start putting the chain on the door?”

“Last night.”

“What did I do to make you hate me so much?”

“I don't hate you!” She suddenly sounded much louder, and he realized she stepped closer to the door.

“Then why are you locking me out?”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, open the door and we can talk.”

“No…if I open the door, you're going to try to confuse me with kisses.”

He was silent for a long time. “
Confuse
you with kisses?”

“You know what I mean!”

“Open the door, Andrea.”

“No.”

He sighed in defeat. “All right, talk. Why did you run out on me last night?”

“I needed to get your attention.”

He huffed. “Well, you definitely got it. Along with everyone in the wedding party and both our families. You've even gotten the attention of the hundred people we invited to the wedding next week.”