All He Needs: A MMM Romance (My Truth Book 1) Read online

  Anna headed inside and I wandered over to Dad. It wasn’t until I stood right in front of him that he looked up, suddenly realizing that he wasn’t alone.

  “Caden,” he said, sounding surprised. “Sorry, I was a world away. Welcome home, son.”

  “Thanks, Dad. It was a long flight. I’m glad to finally be here.”

  It was awkward speaking with him. Mom’s death had broken him; now he was a shadow of the strong, vibrant man he used to be, and I ached knowing the pain he lived with every day.

  “Go inside and rest up. Maybe we can go out to eat tonight instead of your sister cooking. My treat.”

  I scowled. “You should be helping her, not leaving everything up to Anna to do. She’s ready to have this baby any day now, and you know her—she won’t ask for help.”

  Annalise wandered over to us then, and I bit back the rest of my lecture, shaking my head at him. “I’ve got some sweet tea inside.” She motioned up the stairs with her thumb. “Go relax.”

  “I need a shower.” I pulled my funky-ass shirt away from my damp skin. “Then I’m gonna look around and see what needs to be done to the house to make it safe for you.” I stared pointedly at Dad, but he was staring off into space again.

  She nodded and glanced at her watch. “I have a checkup with the doc on base in an hour. I’m booked in next week so… yeah.” She grinned, obviously happy but also nervous.

  “Ah.” I was suddenly speechless. It was really going to happen. I was going to be an uncle. I grinned, happiness sending my gut into cartwheels. So freaking cool. “Is he still breech?”

  “She—”

  “He.”

  With a smirk on her face, she continued. “Yes, the baby’s still breech. It’s gonna be a C-section delivery.”

  Talking about the baby made excitement vibrate off her. The thought of someone cutting me open to extract a living creature scared the shit out of me, but then again, pushing it out of a hole that I was sure wasn’t meant for watermelon-sized objects was probably worse. I don’t know how many times I’d thought I was happy to be a man after looking at the baby websites Anna had sent me links to. “I’ll finally get to meet her.”

  “I can’t wait.” I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Will the doc still let me stay with you?”

  “Absolutely. You’re my moral support.”

  Dad insisted on going out, and although I was dubious about the diner he’d chosen, the chicken fried steak and biscuits were the best I’d ever had. We all retired to bed early after supper, and I laid in my room, my body spent. The change in time zones had knocked me around, and if it weren’t for the stairs I had to replace, and the stiff windows I needed to look at the next day, I could have slept for a week.

  My emotions were all over the place too. Maybe it was just because I was so tired, but Mace’s text from earlier had me wanting to throw my cell out the car window.

  Hope your flight was good. Figured you’d be there by now. I know it’s not the time, but I’d really like to talk. Maybe when you can, call me. Or I can call you, whatever works. I don’t wanna lose you.

  I was pissed at him, but my gut flip-flopped just seeing his name on my screen. I couldn’t bring myself to respond though, so I’d closed the message and pocketed my cell. Now it was eating away at me. The reminder that I hadn’t responded, taunting me.

  Scrubbing a hand over my face, I let my eyes drift closed and a familiar face flashed in my mind’s eye. Mom. My mood slipped. I still couldn’t smile when I thought of her, even though I had so many amazing memories growing up. Mom dying was still too raw, her loss still so shocking that the air would be sucked out of my lungs whenever I thought about how quickly she’d been taken from us. The cancer had been diagnosed as a fast-growing malignant tumor in her right breast, but it’d quickly spread throughout her body. Chemo and radiation therapy after the operation to remove the cancer hadn’t worked, and four months later, instead of celebrating her birthday, we’d buried her. Now whenever I thought of her, I saw Mom’s sleeping form as death took her.

  Fuck you, cancer. Fuck. You.

  That was why I had been such a basket case for so long. My nights were filled with reliving the moment Mom let out that final exhale, her body going still and the silence surrounding her becoming deafening. Annalise and Dad had held her in those last few moments, tears tracking down their faces. Me? I’d been on the other side of the room, as far away from her as I could be because I was too scared to touch her. She’d been in so much pain, and her pale skin and emaciated frame looked so frail that I hadn’t wanted to add to her agony, especially in those final days.

  The guilt of somehow depriving her of a moment she might’ve needed haunted me. I hated that I was too much of a coward to comfort her. Now that I couldn’t see her again, I knew I shouldn’t have been so selfish. I hated myself for the heartbreak I caused her. Didn’t matter that I hadn’t meant to hurt her; she’d needed me to comfort her, and I’d failed. I didn’t have a defense other than I was stupid. I saw how she writhed in pain, how she gasped for air because it hurt her so much to even breathe that she would almost pass out. I justified my selfish cowardice with compassion for her. And now I lived with the knowledge that I’d distanced myself while being in the same room as her when she took her last breaths.

  Was I distancing myself again with Mace? Was I trying to protect myself and hurting him instead? No. Fuck him, he deserves it. Why should I worry about hurting him when he took everything from me?

  But that wasn’t true either. I’d done it to myself. I only had myself to blame. When I’d been competing, the guilt, the knowledge that the last memory my mother had of me was hurting her, made me want to destroy myself, to throw everything away and drop off the face of the earth, but I couldn’t do it. The competitive streak in me had my balls in a vise grip and wouldn’t let go. The season was grueling in and of itself, but the added layers of grief, self-contempt and drive to succeed against all odds had made the tour impossible to bear. I was desperate for a few solid hours of uninterrupted sleep, and I was so strung out that insanity was a real possibility. So I’d justified cheating to myself.

  Nothing else is working, Caden. It’s not like you’re using steroids. Weed isn’t performance enhancing; it’ll just relax you a bit. You’ll never finish the season if you don’t get a grip. Imagine how proud Mom would be if you finished on top and could dedicate the win to her.

  Thing was, the weed was performance enhancing. I was cracking under the pressure, riding on adrenaline alone, and my scores were dropping. Then I’d smoked a joint and had a decent meal and a few hours of sleep that were so deep, not even my nightmares could invade them. And bam! I was competitive again. I beat Reef in a few of the heats, and I was making everyone around me happy once more. It was good to please them, to have Dan, my coach, smile at me when I left the slope rather than growling.

  It hadn’t helped that Dan and I weren’t getting along for other reasons too. I’d always been the life of the party, out until late, surrounded by a mob of snow bunnies. I’d never corrected any of the ridiculous stories about my sex life. According to the rumor mill, I took a new girl home with me every night, sometimes two. Truth was, I’d walked many a too-drunk girl back to her hotel and made out with her in the lobby to fuel the stories on social media, then rode up to her room, dropped her off and escaped out of the hotel via a different door. After all, it was easy to hide that I was gay when everybody assumed I’d been with more women than you could count. I even stooped to playing dumb a few times when I could see people getting too close to the truth about me. I’d asked Reef a few stupid questions when he saw me staring at Mace one time. They were ones I damn well knew the answer to, but they were favorites of the ignorant straight community: “What do you do with two dicks?” and “Don’t you miss the curves and softness?”

  I might’ve tried to do the right thing by drunk girls, but Dan was another story. He’d take advantage—literally—of every one of the snow b
unnies I tried to let down nicely. It made me the ultimate wingman without even trying. He got lucky with at least one of the women I’d refuse every night. But when I stopped going out as often, struggling to come to terms with my guilt and loss, it put a serious dent in his sex life. If there was one thing I’d learned from living in close quarters with my coach, it was that he was a bear when he was horny.

  Dan was so keen to get me back up to peak performance—in the bars, not on the slopes—that he’d lined me up to try every natural remedy out there to get me back on an even keel. Whatever was permitted by the World Anti-Doping Agency—meditation, yoga, acupuncture, massage, hot tubs, orgasms, approved anxiety meds, everything—he had me try. He’d joked one time that his dick had a vested interest in me being happy and well-rested again. Not him, not his reputation, not his interest in me as his long-time mentee. His dick.

  It hurt, but I dutifully tried everything he lined up, and none of it worked. Even the hooker with the double D’s walked away dissatisfied. So I did shit my way and smoked a joint. I managed to pass the first drug test—the THC must’ve been out of my system when I pissed in the cup—but I wasn’t so lucky with the second one. I’d known it was coming, but it still stung when I was pulled aside after my final run of the season—the championship event that could’ve seen me beat Reef—only to be given the positive test results and the official suspension by the governing body.

  I sighed and kicked off the sheet. The overhead fan squeaked, but there was no way I was turning it off; the breeze coming in from the open window was cool, but not cool enough. I picked up my cell, flipping it in my hands in the darkness. Should I? Shouldn’t I? Finally, I gave in and brought up Rick’s contact, hitting Call before I could change my mind.

  It’d barely rung at my end before he answered. I could hear the smile in his voice as he greeted me warmly and asked, “You made it okay? Your sister good?”

  “Yeah, I did. Anna looks great. She’s feisty and excited. I really missed her. I feel bad that I spent so long away even after the season ended. I should’ve been here more for her. The house is falling apart, and Dad’s been no help.” I sighed. “He’s not coping, and Anna’s had to look after him as well as herself.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Sorry to unload on you, man. You don’t wanna hear about my crap.”

  “Yes I do. Talk to me. I’ve got time.”

  So I did. I talked about what was urgent on the house and what help Annalise needed to get set up before the baby came. Rick’s encouragement steeled my resolve and had me mentally planning what I’d start with. The more I talked to him, the more I knew I could handle things. He gave me hope. He made me want to be brave.

  “You sound like you’ve made up your mind on where you want to be. That’s good, Caden. I’m happy you’ve got that.”

  His words struck me like a wrecking ball. I did want to stay and help Anna raise the baby, something I didn’t even know I wanted until he’d said it. I didn’t even know who the baby daddy was, and I wanted to take on the part for my niece or nephew. I wanted to see them grow up, teach them and read them bedtime stories. Annalise would go on deployment eventually too—it was inevitable—and I wanted to be there then and always.

  “I do. But that means not coming back to Queenstown.”

  A heavy weight settled in my chest, like I knew I was going to miss out on something spectacular if I didn’t go back. And it wasn’t just the ski season. I was being drawn there, pulled by some unseen force, except that I wasn’t so sure it was unseen. It was Rick. And before Mace had turned out to be such an asshole, it was him too.

  “If we’re meant to see each other again, we will,” he assured me. “I don’t give up easily, and I hope you don’t either. We’ll find a way.” I closed my eyes and let his words wash over me, soothing me. We’ll find a way. “Good night, Caden. Sleep well.”

  “Good night, Rick,” I whispered, my voice already thickening with sleep. Hanging up, I clutched my cell and rolled to my side, relaxing into the pillow.

  I knew what I needed to do in the morning, a trip to the lumberyard first on the list. I had purpose, something I hadn’t had a lot of since I’d found myself at the end of my professional career, and I had Rick to thank for encouraging me.

  I smiled into the darkness and let sleep take me.

  Chapter Three

  Caden

  “Will you answer his text, please?” Annalise gave me the stink eye over the glass she was drinking from. “You’ve been studying your cell for a week like it’s holding the key to finding Atlantis.”

  I shook my head and put down the roasting dish I’d pulled out of the oven, dropping in the potatoes I’d just peeled and sliding it back in. “I’m not sure I’m ready to, Anna. I can’t help but feel like Mace betrayed me. He’s texting me, begging me to let him explain, but if he was a true friend, he would’ve talked to me before he fucking tattled on me.”

  “Listen to me, Caden. Life is short. One minute you’re here, and the next you could be gone.” I knew she was talking about Mom and more than one of her Army buddies who hadn’t made it back from a tour. For someone her age, she was far too experienced with death. “You have to live every moment. Don’t waste even a single minute. You can’t hold on to grudges. It just makes you bitter. Forgive him and move on, not for him but for you.”

  “How is forgiving him good for me?”

  She looked at me like I was stupid and huffed out a breath. “Before you found out, how would you have described him? Not his looks, his personality.”

  “Loyal and fun. He’s a good guy, a decent man, you know? But I’ve had to rethink everything I thought I knew. A decent guy doesn’t rat out his friends.”

  “You’re my big brother, and I love you, but you really are dumb sometimes. Do you know what makes a good man? A decent man?” She didn’t let me get an answer in even if I’d tried. “Doing the right thing. If he’d asked you point-blank whether you were doing drugs, what would you have said? Would you have lied to save your ass, or would you have trusted him to keep a secret that proved you were acting illegally? Don’t you think that by him going to the Anti-Doping Agency, he gave you the best chance? If you were clean, you would’ve passed the test no problems. If not, well…”

  “You don’t think I deserved to be in contention for the championship, do you?” I challenged. I knew I was being overly defensive, but how was I supposed to react? “You’re gonna side with him?”

  “I’ll always be on your side, you know that. But that doesn’t mean you did the right thing. You now have the chance to become a better man, and a better man would call his friend and talk it through.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I dismissed her.

  “You’re upset because you care about him. Don’t let this become a regret.” She squeezed my arm and kissed me on the cheek before walking out.

  I sagged against the kitchen countertop, all the fight going out of me. She was right like always.

  Scrubbing my hand over my cheek, I let out a heavy breath. I needed to call him. I’ll do it tonight. I’d call him when the others went to bed and I could have a decent conversation with him without my sister listening in.

  I still had to rehang all of the pictures in Anna’s room after I’d repainted it, and I wanted to get the stain on the front steps down too. I’d worked like the possessed since I’d been back, getting everything urgent fixed up. All the windows in the house now opened easily and were freshly painted, the loose kitchen cupboard doors were screwed tight again and the stairs were brand new. The house already looked better, and with a fresh coat of paint outside, it’d no longer be the worst house on the street.

  It was well past suppertime before I finished everything. After a shower, I fell into bed, my eyes closing as soon as I laid my head on the pillow.

  No. I have to call Mace.

  Rousing myself, I grabbed my cell and brought up his contact before I could talk myself out of it again. I was disappointed when it went straight to his message s
ervice, and that was a first. I didn’t think I’d ever want to speak with him again. Anna was right, forgiving him did lighten the weight I’d been carrying. I didn’t bother leaving a message for him, knowing he hardly ever listened to them, and fired off a text instead.

  Hey, Mace. Tried calling, but you can see that. I’m gonna get some sleep now, but I’ll call tomorrow after Anna has the baby. I’m gonna be an uncle. Cool, huh? We’ve both got some stuff to say, so we should talk.

  I didn’t get a response before I fell asleep, but that was probably a good thing.

  In less than twenty-four hours, my life would be changed forever. I’d be holding a baby in my arms—a boy, with any luck—while my sister recovered. Excitement rippled through me, sparking like the striking of a match. I couldn’t wait.

  “Hello, Mom.” A man in scrubs pulled one side of the peach-colored curtain across the opening before holding out his hand to shake Annalise’s over her belly. With a smile, he turned to me. “I’m Dr. John Cleary, your anesthetist. You must be Caden. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  After shaking my hand, he perched himself on the end of the bed Annalise was sitting on. “Okay, let’s go through the information you gave me last time we met so we’re all on the same page. Then I’ll put in the cannula and give you something for the nerves.”

  I looked around the ward while they spoke, taking in the white walls and the beige linoleum flooring, the muted watercolors of landscapes hanging on the walls. It was all very calming, so different from the swanky private respite center Mom died in. The contrast was a relief. The thought of going somewhere like that again had me waking up in a cold sweat the night before.

  “Okay, let’s do this.”

  I turned at his words to see the doctor pull open a packet with a giant needle in it. I was morbidly curious, dying to watch my sister’s reaction. She hated needles. Abso-fucking-lutely hated them. It sounded callous, me getting a kick out of my sister’s fears, but at least she was fearful of something you rarely came across. Me? I had a stupid, irrational fear of birds. Hated the bastards with a passion. It wasn’t fun growing up—she took every chance to tease the ever-loving shit out of me.