Page 54 of Take Hold of Me

His mouth opens and he closes around my finger, giving it a little nip. “Of course, I told her she had a huge boy nose.” He chuckles again and his blue eyes become unfocused.

I want to know as much as he will give me. “Care to share?”

He looks at me as if he forgot I was at his side. “I was remembering her wedding. In my toast, I said something along the lines of I was so glad she finally found a guy who could overlook her obvious male nose and put up with her.”

I smile. “I bet your parents had a handful with you two. Did you ever pull anything over on them?”

He turns his head away from me, his body growing taut under my fingertips. A few moments later, he clears his throat. “We were your typical siblings.”

There is more—much more—to this story. Although his posture screams for me to let it be, I cannot. Maybe I will be able to help him heal this part of his life? “I remember you told me about your Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes. Who was your Daddy’s favorite? Did his daughter have him wrapped around her finger, or did his strapping son get all of the attention?”

On the pillow, his head turns to mine. His body flips from unwilling to hostile with the flare of his nostrils. “My father always pitted us against each other.”

I cannot imagine growing up like that. True, Mamanand Papa pushed Gerard and me to do better, but they never had us competing against each other. “I am sure your father wanted the best for both of you.”

“He wanted us to fall in line, not color outside of them. When I told him I wasn’t going into the Marines like him—” He stops. I resume tracing his Gemini tattoo, urging him to continue. I sense this is more important for him to talk about than even he knows.

After a protracted silence, he continues, “My sister and I shared our own language, just like you’ve heard about twins doing. It was really more of a shorthand. She called me ‘Brot,’ for brother-twin. In return, I started calling her ‘Three,’ since she was born three whole minutes after me. We referred to our father as FPU, for Father Parental Unit. It drove him nuts.”

I meet his eyes and he continues, “Even at her funeral, the flower arrangement I ordered was in the form of the number three. Mom burst into tears when she saw it. FPU told me he expected I would’ve treated my sister with more respect, especially since she died instead of me.”

I suck in a gasp. Tears coat my cheeks for such cruelty from the person who was supposed to love him unconditionally—his father. My family could not be more different from his. “How awful.”

He wipes my tears away with his thumbs, staring at the moisture. “FPU never approved of tears, either. Said they’re a waste.” He rubs his fingers together.

“No, they are not. They show the depth of your feelings.”

His shoulders rise in a shrug. How did we go from making love to discussing tears? I play with what must be his sister’s dog tags on their chain. It is so fitting that he wears them. Maybe his other tattoo will have better memories? “What about your other tattoo? Can I see it?”

He turns onto his side so that his right bicep is up, and I lean back to examine it. It sports two very intricate tribal bands that are interwoven. They look slightly familiar. “Gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” He returns to his back on the bed and pulls me to him as if he needs me to breathe. “Do you remember Jared and Roberto?”

“Of course. Jared was with Cole and me when we were in Paris together last Thanksgiving.” They were added to Cole’s security detail after Wills was shot in the shoulder by Cole’s crazy stalker, Starr. Then she killed both men, before Wills eliminated her. Their funerals were filled with so many people. And tears. Now that I think about it, however, none of those tears were from Wills.

“Both Jared and Roberto had tribal armband tatts. I designed this one to honor them.”

Now that Wills has explained it, I remember seeing Jared’s tattoo when he was guarding us. I did not know Roberto too well, but I seem to recall seeing his armband tattoo, too. Wills may not show his emotions to the world, but they are imprinted on his body. “You are such a good man.”

“No, Ems, I’m not. If I were, we wouldn’t be here right now. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“It won’t.”

“You don’t know that.” He motions to his tattoos. “People die around me. Because of me.”

“None of this was your fault. You saved Cole and Rose from Starr.”

He emits a sad chuckle. “Yeah. And Jared and Roberto paid the price. Not to mention I have my sister’s death on my hands, too.”

I am at a loss about how to reach him and make him see all these deaths are not his fault. I do not know how to do that, so I do the only thing I can do to make him feel better. I kiss the corner of his mouth, caressing his tattoos. He is not resisting me, but he is not encouraging me, either.

“Let me make you feel better.” I kiss down the side of his neck. When he lifts his head to give me better access, I know he is accepting my comfort.

Which turns to passion once his arms encircle my waist.

Followinganother amazing round with Wills, I leave his room to get my things. My body is sore in all the right places, while my heart hurts for what he has had to deal with. The nightmares he fights. I know he will always keep me safe, no matter what he thinks. The way he handled my body tells me that more than words.

Peering at my reflection in the mirror, I apply another coat of UC Cosmetics lip gloss in pink, and sigh. Filming their commercial was alright, but I wish they had listened to my suggestions. Once I put on my jewelry and adjust my belt, I am ready for the airport. Where I will need to face the paparazzi again. And so will he. My heart is heavy for the pain he carries.

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