Page 4 of The One Who Got Away (Murdock Brothers #4)

Eloise

“Mom, please go.”

“I think I should just stay home. I haven’t seen Gus in so long. I’d love to visit with him.”

“Mom, you have plans.”

She wrung her hands together. Her once beautiful nails were now bitten to the quick.

I’d convinced her to pull a few of her old clothes out of the back of her closet.

She’d definitely dropped some weight since my father had taken off.

Lucky for my mother, she never threw anything away.

The fact that she’d already lost enough weight to go down to her clothes from when I was in college was concerning.

My father asking for a divorce out of the blue had rocked my mother’s foundations—mine too.

And now I was back here.

Sitting in the past that my mother wouldn’t let go of.

In fact, it was even worse now. I’d tried to paint my bedroom to get rid of the dingy yellow of my childhood and she’d melted down for three days. So, my old Taylor Swift, Jonas Brothers, and Linkin Park posters stayed where they were.

Her hair trigger was even more sensitive right now.

The townhouse was stuck in a vortex of old memories and pain.

Just like my mother.

Guilt piled on each time my mom flinched over a phone call. Heck, even changing the channel from the pre-requisite schedule of television shows she’d always lived by with my dad could send her spinning.

It was even worse than a death.

How had I not seen how unhappy they were?

With a buried sigh, I hurried into the galley kitchen of our town house. I grabbed the bottle of wine she was taking with her to the bookstore as well as the little soft-sided cooler I’d brought home from work with the finger sandwiches I’d made for her meeting.

Part of me wished that I had the house to myself, but the other was excited to have Gus back in my life. Even if it was just another trip into the way back machine.

I tucked the bottle into the oversized tote that included the spicy romance book the group was reading.

The fact that my mother was reading fairy smut was surprising enough. Doing it with a group of like-minded ladies was a whole other level.

I brought the tote and cooler out with me. “I made you some vegetarian as well as meat sandwiches.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” Her fingers were fluttering again.

“Jessie and I had a blast figuring out how to make an honest to God finger sandwich. Let me know how the ladies like them.”

The uncertainty in her bluebell eyes hit me again. I tucked her hair behind her ear. I got my wild red hair from my mother. Hers was a short halo of curls that reminded me of Annie. But it was just as soft as I remembered. And her lily of the valley scent washed over me.

I pulled her in for an impulsive hug. “You’re doing so great, Mom. I’m proud of you for going out there when I know you don’t want to.”

She sagged against me and clung. “I don’t feel great. Maybe I should stay home.”

“Nope.” I pushed her back giving her a big smile. “You’re going to go and talk about the big winged dude in that book until the whole room is blushing and buzzing.”

She frowned. “How do you know? Do you want to join the group? I’d just?—”

“Nope this is your thing. I’ve just been on social media enough to hear people talking about it, that’s all.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am. I’m going to catch up with Gus and we’re going to watch terrible movies.”

“I like terrible movies.”

I stamped down the impatience. I had to remind myself she was just so uncertain and needed reassurance. “I promise we’ll watch some of our old favorites this weekend.”

She nodded, her big blue eyes swimming. “Okay.”

“You’ll have a great time. I promise. And if you drink too much wine just text me and I’ll pick you up, no questions asked.”

She gave me a watery laugh at the deal we’d made when I was a teenager. “Okay.”

I walked her to the door and down the drive to her car parked behind mine. I stowed her bags and gave her a hug then firmly steered her into the driver’s side. I waved to her and waited for the car to clear the cul-de-sac before tipping my head back with a relieved sigh.

My dad was a bastard for doing this to her.

I knew he’d been a little emotionally absent as of late.

I just figured it was how things worked with a marriage with over thirty-three years in the rearview.

My mother had always been the involved one.

She was at every game, every musical in my theater phase, every awards night that I’d ever had in school.

Being valedictorian meant that I’d joined every damn thing to get the best chance of a scholarship.

And I’d gotten one.

Northeastern had given me a half ride, which meant I still had loans up to my eyeballs, but I’d made it. I’d reached every goal I’d set for myself in school and still, I was back here.

I bowed my head.

She’d supported me every step of the way, it was only right for me to do the same.

My feet dragged on the way back into the townhouse I’d grown up in. The stoop was the same with the half barrels full of mums in a cheerful deep burgundy and happy yellow. A semi-circle of gourdes and pumpkins filled the corner with a vertical Happy Autumn sign tipped against the siding.

Every September my mom hauled out the same decorations, as well as the same trip to the local greenhouse to complete the look. Part of me wanted to change the location of the pumpkins to the stairs for something different, but that would just cause another deluge of tears.

She wasn’t ready yet.

“Patience,” I said softly to myself and let myself back into the house.

It smelled of rosemary and the sharp sweetness of caramelized onions.

As a teen I’d learned how to cook a few sheet pan meals to fill in for my mother when she worked late.

I peeked in the oven and the steam of scents rolled over me making my stomach rumble.

I’d originally planned to make ziti, since it had always been Gus’s favorite, but the chicken thighs had been too tempting.

I glanced at the clock and hurried to make some rice. I was doing a second rinse of the Basmati rice when my phone buzzed.

Gus:

Two minutes out

I smiled. He remembered I preferred a head’s up before he arrived.

I tried to ignore the little flip in my belly. It wasn’t a date. But it had been a damn long time since I’d spent time with my best friend. Even with all the years between us, he would forever stay slotted in that spot.

Jessie, from Bite Me, had become one of the most important people in my life, but there was only one Gus.

I hurriedly set the rice on the stove to cook and set my timer since I couldn’t be trusted with that man invading my space for the first time in... God, it had to be over three years.

I’d run into Gus when we’d both been home for Thanksgiving.

He’d dragged me over to his folks’ house for leftovers on Black Friday after we’d bumped into each other in line at an electronics store.

I did most of my shopping online for my mods and equipment, but I couldn’t turn down the price on a wide screen monitor after mine fried.

Back when I was working day and night on my company’s reimagining of Overwatch. No matter what I preferred, first person shooter games still led the charge in the gaming industry. Besides, it had been the first major game I’d been invited to work on.

A firm knock on the door dragged me out of memories.

I pulled off my apron and hung it on the hook on my way out of the small kitchen to the hallway.

I snuck a look through the skinny window and my breath caught at the familiar line of him.

He was facing away from the door with a bag dangling from his fingertips.

Old jeans hugged him in all the right places.

He wore a soft sweater in deference to the cool evening.

I opened the door and he turned, his dimple popped as he grinned at me. He still had his sunglasses on so I couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in his brain, but the smile made a little part of me sigh. I leaned against the jamb. “Hey.”

He stepped closer and for a moment his rainforest scent rolled over me. “Gonna let me in?”

Pants? Bedroom?

All of the above?

“Right. Sorry.” I stepped back and cleared my throat. “You look nice.”

“Figured a holey Linkin Park T-shirt wasn’t the right call.”

I laughed. “You still have that?”

“Of course I do. I had to do forty-seven steps in crutches for that fucking show.”

I laughed and closed the door after him. “It was a great show.”

“You look incredible.”I could feel his eyes on me before he pulled off his sunglasses and set them on the table with his keys like he’d done a thousand times before.

“Thanks.”

“It smells awesome.” His stomach growled and I laughed.

“I had a different plan originally, but I think the red wine will still work.”

“Handy for you, I brought white and red. I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He lifted the bag then rummaged around and pulled out a bag of Albanese gummy bears. “And these.”

I snatched them from him. “Oh, man.”

He plucked them out of my hands. “After dinner.” He traded me for the bag full of wine.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I heard the hiss of starch boiling over and ran for the rice.

“Can I help?”

“No, I got it.”

He followed me into the kitchen that could barely hold one person let alone two.“I’ll take care of the wine then.” He slid his hand over my hip to get to the drawer where we kept the corkscrew.

I could feel the heat of him behind me and my breath caught when his nose brushed over the little curls that had escaped my flat iron.

“You still smell like cherries.” His voice was a little rough. “Like the good ones soaked in bourbon.”

My nipples tightened.

Holy crap.

Then he was gone, corkscrew in hand. “I had no idea you were back in town.”

I gripped the edge of the stove’s handle to steady myself.

What the hell was that?

“Definitely wasn’t in the plans,” I managed to say.

“What happened with your parents?” He brushed by me and my skin buzzed as he grabbed a pair of glasses from the cabinet over the stove.