Page 7 of Rex's Honor
“Do you have any white wine?” she asked.
“There’s a bottle open in the fridge and more in the cooler.” Wine was a mistake, and he knew it, but he decided to check his prick personality at the door and enjoy a good meal. “Glasses are in that cabinet to the right of the sink.”
A loud clap of thunder boomed through the night as more lightning brightened the inside of the boat.
“I love a good thunderstorm,” she said, placing a wineglass next to the stove.
He ignored the tightening in his muscles and the tingling sensation crawling across his fingertips, itching to dig into her soft curves. The fish sizzled as he flipped it. He focused on his growling stomach and sipped his wine, not wanting to go sit at the table and continue to pretend this wasn’t the most awkward situation either one of them had ever been in.
“My father really asked you to come?”
“He said you hadn’t returned his phone calls, except for a few random text messages that work was too hectic for you to get away.”
He placed a plate of food before her and joined her at the table.
“Imagine my surprise when I get here and find out you’re on a few days’ vacation from the fire station and have no assignments with the Aegis Network for at least a week.” She looked to the ceiling, pressing her forefinger to her temple. “And today was the first day.”
“Spying on me?”
She shook her head, letting out a sarcastic laugh. “I called the station when I landed. It took being transferred to a few different people before I was informed about both situations.”
“You’re lucky I’m still here. But you still wasted your time.”
“I had to try,” she said, lowering her gaze. “Your mom is in bad shape.”
“My dad texted me yesterday and said Mom had maybe a month left and that at this point, she refused all treatment except for pain medication.” He gulped his wine. He’d actually bought a plane ticket to go back to Kent Island, Maryland, leaving tomorrow morning at seven, but he’d decided not to go. It wasn’t just that he had struggled to forgive his mother or that he’d become estranged from his siblings and father, but there were certain things he couldn’t get out of his mind.
No one could deny how much he’d been hurt or what it had done to see his mother adjusting her clothing as she and Mr. Bettencourt stepped from the master bedroom. Rex might have been an adult, but that would fuck up any young man.
“It’s not just your mom who wants to see you,” Tilly said.
Rex picked at the food on his plate. The first few years after he’d left home had been fueled by anger. He dealt with it by becoming the best fire protection specialist the Air Force had ever seen and ignored his past, including his money, but then he wanted this yacht after he’d left the military, so he tapped into his trust fund and that’s what triggered an onslaught of messages from his father.
His sister, Emily, had sent him a nasty gram a few years ago, telling him to get his head out of his ass. His brother constantly sent him pictures of family gatherings. He knew more about them than they did about him.
Not that there was anything to know. He worked. He fished. He worked.
“I don’t know about that. My little correspondence with Emily and Miles has been tainted with resentment.” A sentiment he understood and had held on to for years. They hadn’t been the ones to catch their mother nor the ones who had to break the news to their father, but they both seemed to blame Rex. Not for the breakup of their parents’ marriage but for hurting their mother.
He chugged his wine before pouring another hearty glass.
“I’d go easy on that.”
“I’d mind your own business,” he said, wishing he could take back the harsh tone.
She leaned back, folding her arms under her breasts.
This was so not the right time to consider her naked body under his T-shirt, though it was a very nice distraction from pondering if he should grant his mother her dying wish or hold on to anger for the rest of his life. He’d wrapped himself in a bubble of resentment, which protected his heart but walled him off from having any meaningful relationships, even with his brothers-in-arms.
He swallowed that revelation.
“You’re a piece of work,” she said, shaking her head. “All you have to do is show up, say hello, and then you can go back to hiding out on your boat, pretending you have a life, when really, all you have is a lot of nothing.”
“You know jack shit about my life,” he said with a snarl. “I have a great career and fantastic friends. Friends who won’t fuck me over like my own family. Or my girlfriend.”
“Seriously? You’re going to sit there and tell me I screwed you over? Do you hear yourself? You’re so goddamn angry over something that happened ten years ago. You’ve never moved past it. No. You’ve chosen to make it the bane of your existence.”
“Tilly, you don’t have a fucking clue about my life.”
