Hold You Close Read online

  I’m glad she does because I’m fucking lost. “What wall?”

  “The wall you always put up. The one you’re the king of. Humpty Dumpty and all. Only I usually take the fall.”

  “Have you lost your fucking mind?” I’m confused because I swear just a few seconds ago she was saying she didn’t want to get into this. Now she wants to, but doesn’t really want to put herself out there. I’m not sure how to salvage this. “Are you drunk? Since when do you usually take the fall? How am I the one that said something wrong by being honest?”

  Well, honest while holding back a little.

  Fire burns in her eyes. “Oh? I must be drunk for telling you that you’re an asshole, huh? I mean, it couldn’t possibly be what you’ve done to make me feel this way.”

  Clearly that was the wrong question.

  “I make you feel this way?” I ask, digging the hole a little deeper. I know she’s hurt because I didn’t admit I loved her, but I didn’t hear her screaming it either. She was just as non-committal as I was.

  “Yes, Ian.” She sneers my name. “You and your feeling that what we are is just casual!”

  “What the hell did you say a few minutes ago? You said we were having fun. You said it, I agreed.” I call her out.

  “Don’t throw my words in my face.” London’s voice is razor sharp.

  “Oh, but you can throw mine back at me?”

  “Yes! Yes I can! You do this to me!”

  Okay, now she’s just being a nutcase. “I made you feel this way? Me? You’re screaming about some shit and all I did was agree with you! Jesus Christ.”

  “He can’t help you here, buddy. You did this all on your own.”

  “Did what?”

  She throws her hands up in the air. “This!”

  “London, calm the fuck down. You’re not even making sense. I have no idea what this is! So stop yelling at me and use your goddamn words.”

  “Don’t you tell me what to do, Ian Chase.” She says through gritted teeth and heads inside the house.

  Can I turn the boat around, because we went from understanding, sweet, smiling London to batshit crazy in two seconds. That was some alien invasion shit right there. I understand that I didn’t exactly fess up to the fact that I love her, but at the same time, the last time I told her that, I fucking lost her.

  I. Lost. Her.

  So, no, I’m not exactly jumping at the opportunity to tell her again. Maybe I’m being a pussy, I get that, but at the same time, I can’t fucking survive that again.

  I hear banging in the house, and my stupid mirrored windows are suddenly working against me. Damn it. I need to go in there and see if she’s tossing plates or who the hell knows. She’s obviously pissed at me and if there’s one thing I learned from my ex-wife, it’s that it is usually my fault.

  The bottom line is I don’t want to see London upset. I want to be the one that makes her smile.

  I look at Chris, who’s sitting in a chair looking at his phone. “You stay out here and watch your sisters. I’m going to . . . I don’t know, walk into the lion’s den, but just don’t take your eyes off them, got it?”

  Christopher nods. “Sure thing.”

  Morgan laughs. “Good luck, Uncle Ian. You’re going to need it.”

  If she wasn’t already in the pool, I’d toss her ass in right now. “You better sleep with one eye open tonight, kid.”

  She shrugs. “Keep Aunt London waiting and stewing and you should be doing the same. She’s scary.”

  Of all the things that irritate me about Morgan, the fact that she’s usually right about handling London is at the top of my list.

  “Whatever, I’m the man of this house.”

  Morgan laughs. “Sure, whatever you tell yourself.”

  If she wasn’t my niece, I would really hate her. Instead of arguing with her, I head inside where the real fight is. I brace myself for whatever wrath could be waiting as I enter, but find London standing at the kitchen island. She’s foregone the glass and is drinking the wine straight from the bottle.

  I really screwed up, and yet I can’t tell her what she wants to hear. I thought I knew what love was once. I thought I had my shit together but I fucked it up.

  I don’t want to do that again. Am I a little scared? You’re damn right I am. The minute I give myself permission to love her fully, and say those words out loud, there’s no going back. London Parish will own me, as if she doesn’t already. Hell, I’m not even sure she ever stopped owning me.

  This is too important to mess up. There’s no rush. We can take things slow and get it right this time.

  I make my way to the island and wait. After a few second without her even acknowledging me, I decide to start this conversation. “Look, what I said back there—”

  “Don’t start, Ian. Just don’t.”

  This is going great already. “If you want to talk about us—”

  Her eyes narrow and she glares at me. That whole saying if looks could kill, I’d be dead. “I don’t want to talk.”

  I put my hands up. “Okay, I’m just trying to help here. I don’t want you to be upset.”

  “Help? I’m drowning, Ian. Are you going to help me when I’m under water? Huh? Are you going to fix the tanking of my career?”

  Okay, so her bad day was clearly much worse than she let on. Maybe this fight was not just my fault. “If you want me to, then yes.”

  She laughs. “Right.”

  Anger, I get. I was full of it for a very long time and this is the exact shit I would do. Sabrina was always my go-to when I needed a kick in the ass, now it’s London. She has no problem calling me out on my shit but I have to tread carefully or she may explode again.

  “Talk to me, baby,” I say gently, placing my hands on her hips.

  Tears fill her eyes. “I just . . . I always knew what I wanted. I had a plan, and my plan was built to give me the best opportunity at success.”

  “I get that.”

  She places the bottle down and sighs. “I didn’t plan on you again. I didn’t plan for Chris, Morgan, and Ruby to be this important to my entire life. I love them, I always have, but they’re like my own children now. I never would’ve put my career on the back burner, and that’s what I’ve done.”

  I pull her a little closer to me since her guard is down a bit. “Is that what happened today?”

  London shakes her head. “Yes and no. I was reminded in a not-so-subtle way that over the last month, I’ve let my personal life overshadow the furthering of my career. I’m late, I leave early, I’m unable to complete tasks on time, and they’ve noticed.”

  This is why I could never work for someone else. I am a smart enough man not to say that to her though. I’ve never seen her this depressed about work. London loves her boring-ass job. For whatever reason, she gets off on all that accounting crap. I would rather be with people, but that’s not her. Never has been.

  She’s a perfectionist and it must be eating her alive to have them point out her slips.

  “What can I do?” I decide to be the man, give her support and options. I want to fix this for her, but I learned a long time ago that London will say no, even if it’s the best plan ever. “Tell me how to make this better for you.”

  Her hand touches my chest and I watch her guard drop. “You’re so sweet. Well, most of the time.”

  “I just want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy with you, Ian. You make me happy, and God, I’m such a bitch for snapping like that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  And I’m the hero again. Take that, Morgan.

  “Don’t apologize. I’ve missed fighting with you.”

  She shakes her head with a smile. “You would.”

  “I do,” I explain. “You’re fucking sexy as hell when you’re pissed off.”

  London’s hands move up my chest. “So all those years were what? Foreplay?”

  “Pretty much.” I’m not ashamed to say it. I love a woman who will stand her ground, can fight b
ack, and the fact that she’s hot as fuck doesn’t hurt either.

  “You’re such a dick.” London’s conviction is lacking.

  “If the kids weren’t outside, I’d lay you on this countertop and fuck you so hard,” I tell her as my cock gets hard.

  It doesn’t take much when it comes to her.

  London brings her lips to mine, brushing them softly but not touching completely. “I have another idea.”

  “Yeah?” I ask, trying to gather any self-control I have.

  “Uh huh. They can’t see through those windows,” she reminds me and then drops to her knees, while I look outside. “The island gives us another layer to let me blow your mind.”

  Then London pulls my bathing suit down and does exactly what she promised, while I thank God I came inside the house to find her.

  Eighteen

  London

  Three weeks later, I get the promotion.

  “What am I going to do, Eli?” I ask him as he rubs against my ankle. “What the fuck am I going to do?”

  The offer validates all my hard work. It means my entire career meant something. But I have to lose everything personal to have it.

  Ian and I will never work cross-country. He has his club so there’s not a chance in hell he’s coming to New Jersey. I’m going to have to leave the kids that I love more than my own life. It’s just . . . impossible.

  How do I choose?

  How do I give up the man I love or the job I love?

  My phone dings with a text.

  * * *

  Ian: Come over! Quick! 911!

  Me: On my way!

  * * *

  I rush out the door, not even caring what the hell I’m wearing. I forget shoes in my haste to get there . . . and pants. “Ouch!” I yell as I step on a rock, but keep going.

  As fast as I can, I pull the patio door open. “Ian!”

  “Up here!”

  I race up the stairs, my legs quivering in fear, and pain from the rock, to find him outside the bathroom door.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Ian lifts his shoulders. “Where are your pants?”

  “You said 911, I ran out the door!”

  “In your underwear?”

  Does he seriously want to discuss my lack of clothing?

  “Focus. What’s wrong?”

  “Oh.” He snaps out of it. “Morgan, she’s been in here a while. I called for her a few times, but she refuses to come out. Keeps crying and telling me to go away. Then, I tried checking on her a few minutes later, and she screamed at me that all she wants is her mom. So I panicked and called you right away.”

  Oh, God. This poor girl.

  “Morgan?” I tap softly.

  “Aunt London?” Morgan sniffles.

  “I’m here, what’s wrong, honey?”

  My heart is breaking, thinking she’s in pain or something is wrong, that she needs Sabrina. These are the moments there’s no guidebook to help us handle.

  “I’m unlocking the door,” she says. “Only you can come in!”

  Ian backs away so Morgan doesn’t see him.

  “Okay, only me.”

  When the door opens, I see immediately what’s wrong. Morgan got her period for the first time. Her eyes are red from crying so hard, and her clothes are in the sink while she’s wrapped in a towel.

  “Don’t be scared,” I tell her quickly.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to do . . .”

  “I know. It’s going to be okay, you’re just becoming a woman.” I touch the side of her face. “I’m going to get you clean underwear and shorts. You just stay in here, and I’ll help, okay?”

  She nods. “I didn’t want to tell Uncle Ian and I didn’t have my phone.”

  “Shh,” I tell her. “We’ve got this.”

  The first time a girl gets her period always seems go one of two ways: not a big deal, or a total horror story. Unfortunately, Morgan’s will be one of those horror stories.

  I exit the bathroom, and Ian is right there.

  “Is she—”

  My finger touches his lip and I tilt my head, instructing him to follow me.

  When we get into Morgan’s room, I keep my voice quiet.

  “She got her period.”

  “Oh God. I’m so not equipped to handle this shit.”

  Yeah, we’re well aware of that. However, he has to pull it together. “You need to go to my house and get a maxi pad out of my cabinet,” I tell him.

  Those cartoons where the eyes fall out of the character’s head? It happens before me. Ian’s lips part and he’s just staring.

  I snap my fingers in front of his face. “Hello?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. I’ll do the boy shit, but you’ve got the girls.”

  “Umm, that’s not how this works.”

  “I’m not going rummaging through your medicine cabinet to look for pads and tampons.”

  I cross my arms. “Are you going to go in the bathroom and explain to her how to use them or would you rather go get the stuff so your twelve-year-old niece doesn’t feel worse about herself?”

  “I’d rather talk to Christopher about hair on his balls and the proper use of deodorant,” Ian replies.

  Well, I’d like a lot of things too, but he’s going to man up and do what is required of him.

  “Ian, I don’t have time to argue, your niece needs you,” I say like a coach would to his player. “Now, get your head in the game and go get a maxi pad from under my cabinet.”

  He glares at me, clearly not enjoying the situation he finds himself in. Oh well, it’s not like I’m excited by this either.

  “Right now, I’m cursing my sister for dying.”

  “Curse her as you walk your ass over there.”

  He leaves the house, and I head back inside the bathroom. Morgan and I talk about growing up and what all this means. She cries a lot, hating how she feels and the lovely side effects of becoming a woman. It sucks, and as much as I want to paint this into a beautiful picture for her, I’m coming up short.

  Sabrina would’ve been so much better at this.

  A few minutes later, Ian knocks on the door and slips me the pad. He brought all four options from my cabinet. After she’s all cleaned up, she heads right to her room, too embarrassed to look her uncle in the eye.

  “Is she okay?” he asks.

  “She will be.”

  “Thank fuck you live right next door. I seriously thought some apocalyptic shit was going on inside that bathroom.”

  My stomach drops as the reality of my situation slaps me back in the face. We need to talk, and it’s the last thing I want to do right now.

  Ian and I are happy. I want so badly for us to work, and there’s no way we’ll be able to once I take the promotion.

  Which is the other half of the issue—I don’t want it.

  I don’t want to walk away from him and the kids. I don’t want to know what it’s like to live without him again. We didn’t work out before, and maybe that was a good thing because it led us to this place. Now I’m going to have to choose to leave it or walk away from everything I’ve worked for.

  “She’s fine, Ian, but we need to talk.”

  “Okay. Are you angry?”

  “No, no, there’s just something I need to tell you about.”

  I take his hand and lead him into the living room. We don’t say anything as we make our way there. First, it’s late and all the kids are in bed. Second, each moment I don’t say anything is one more I can hold onto.

  “What’s going on?”

  We sit down, and I close my eyes, trying to decide what I’m going to do. This decision will dictate the rest of my life. It affects four other people, though. I have to tell him and see where we go.

  Maybe Ian will be great. Maybe we’ll talk this through and figure out a plan that works for us. I could be blowing this all up in my head.

  Wouldn’t be the first time.


  We’re both grown-ups and this isn’t the end. I know deep in my heart he loves me.

  After a few seconds, Ian clears his throat. “Lon, you’re scaring me.”

  I shake my head, bringing my eyes to meet his worried blue ones. “Don’t be scared. I’m just in my head, but I want to talk to you.”

  “Okay?”

  “I’m being crazy and I don’t know why.” I let out a nervous giggle.

  “I don’t either.”

  The butterflies in my stomach won’t settle and I’m starting to feel clammy. “I got a promotion,” I blurt out.

  Ian’s face lights up with pride. “That’s great! You’ve worked your ass off for that company.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I have, for a long time.”

  “I’m glad they see how amazing you are. Not that I know what the fuck you do there,” he says, chuckling.

  “I’m an analyst,” I say for the millionth time.

  “Okay, and what would you be now?”

  “Well, they want to make me the CFO.”

  “Holy shit, London. When would you start the new position?”

  If it were up to Casey, I’d be on a plane tomorrow. “It’s a great opportunity, it really is, but I’m just not sure I’m going to take it.”

  “Not take it?” Ian’s eyes fill with confusion.

  “There would be a lot of changes to our lives.”

  Ian wraps me in his arms, and I want to cry. All of this elation is great, but there’s more. “We’ll figure it out. I think the five of us have adapted well and we just shuffle things around.” He kisses me and then pulls back. “I’m proud of you. I know you had a shitty day a few weeks ago because they said you weren’t pulling your weight, but look at you now.”

  “Ian,” I sigh. God, he’s going to hate me.

  He pulls back and then his eyes narrow. “Why aren’t you happy about this?”

  I take his hands in mine and nerves hit me like never before. “The job is in New Jersey.”

  Nineteen

  Ian

  New Jersey?

  She’s kidding, right?