Page 106 of If This is Love

“Gabe, it’s all okay, honey,” I pleaded, pulling on my jeans and fastening them. I grabbed my shirt and untangled it from itself. “I came by unexpectedly, and we were talking, and it’s all okay, you didn’t—”

“Gunner,down!” A booming bark rattled the walls. “Ruth, I need you to go,” he snapped, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on right now, and I need you to fucking go.” The bathroom door slammed so hard it nearly split. “Please just fucking go, Ruth. I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but I’m sorry. Just go.”

I did something wrong.

I did something very,verywrong.

I had—to borrow from all of my military friends—fucked up.

Just like before, I had no idea what it was. I just knew I was responsible.

And I stood there, standing in his bedroom next to his broken bed, listening to him suffer while Gunner wailed and growled,hating myself.

Ihatedmyself.

And just like the very wrong thing I didn’t know I’d done, I still didn’t know why I always went straight to hating myself.

But right now the hatred was too loud. It was so loud. It was all but screaming, and it didn’t matterwhatorwhy,all I knew was I’d done something wrong, and I hated myself for it.

27

RUTH

ALGIERS POINT, NEW ORLEANS

Gabe and Gunner were still making a ruckus as I stumbled out of the house. The second I pulled the door shut, a sob catapulted out of my throat, and I threw my hands over my mouth, pitching forward at the waist. I turned from the door, clutching my stomach as I sat on the top step and just cried.

My hands were shaking so hard that it was making me edgy and angry, and I was still soangryat myself for ruining what could’ve been,should’ve beensomething perfect. Itwasperfect. Until that stupid—

“Ruth… darlin’…?”

The smooth, southern male voice that broke through the sound of my sobs wasn’t the one I was hoping to hear, but it was a comforting surprise just the same.

“Oh myheavens,” I blubbered, wiping my eyes as I sat up. “Hey there, Brennan, I… um…” I sniffled and clasped my hands together, squeezing them between my knees while I looked at him sheepishly. “Well, this is completely awkward, and I can’t really explain myself, so…” I swallowed. “Yeah.”

Brennan’s brows did a subtle knit at their center. He was holding a bottle of wine and wearing a blue-and-white-striped apron over his typical slacks and dress shirt, his sleeves rolled to his elbows like he’d been busy in a kitchen and ran out because he heard me crying.

He slowly lowered himself to crouch and offered his free hand. “No, honey, no explanations necessary. It’s clear you’re upset, so I’m going to take you for a little stroll up the sidewalk to Connor and Liza’s if that’s okay with you. We’re having a little tapas and wine, and I think it would make you feel a whole lot better. What do you say, Ruth, sweetheart?”

I stared at his hand, and the tiniest flutter of joy broke through my heartache and frustration. If I ever needed a friend, it was right now, and my new neighborhood was packed with them.

I set my hand in his and let him help me stand. “I think that sounds like just what the doctor ordered right now.”

* * *

After Brennan usheredme into Connor and Liza’s house, he continued to usher me into the living room, and finally into an extremely comfortable, brown leather chair, and then he, Connor, Liza, and Skye all proceeded to fuss over me.

“I really don’t drink,” I said apprehensively as Skye filled a glass with deep red wine for me.

“I know, but sometimes having a drink is purely medicinal,” Skye said, topping off the glass and handing it to me before she moved to sit on the large couch on the other side of a tufted, chocolate-brown ottoman. She nestled into the cushions as Liza, who was seated in the center of the couch, passed her a wine glass. “Just sip on it until you feel tipsy enough to spill your guts, because we know something awful just happened.”

A self-deprecating laugh burst out of me as I shook my head and snuggled back against the chair, squeezing my legs together. The ache of total satisfaction hummed and subtly throbbed between my thighs, and it was so delicious and sad at the same time. “Well, that’s…” I started to say, but then a lump swelled in my throat again, pinching my words to a squeak. “…not a terrible sounding idea.”

My words came out so quavering that I couldn’t suppress the urge to cover my face and dip my head to discreetly cry.

“Oh,honey,” Liza cooed. I looked up to see her waving her hand toward herself and inching away from Skye. “Come over here and sit with us so we can hug you and stuff.”

Another teary laugh escaped my throat as I stood and crossed the room to sit between them. I set my glass on a wood tray on the ottoman so I could open my arms as both women gave me a simultaneous tight squeeze, and my heart warmed with love. It was so good to be loved, especially when I was feeling so terrible and angry at myself and, as always, justhating myself.

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