Hurricane Hearts Page 15

  “Hey, babe,” she said, sounding as exhausted as I felt.

  “Hey, you. Are you okay? You sound tired.”

  “I’m a little tired, but I’m good. I have ten minutes before my next client, so tell me everything.”

  I frowned. “You’re working late today.” Cleo usually saw her last patient much earlier in the day.

  “Yes. Now talk, because we’re losing time here the more you talk about other stuff.”

  I sighed and caught her up on everything that happened today. She listened quietly, and when I finished, she said, “I’m sorry this is so hard, Birdie, but you guys are going to get through it. You know that, right?”

  “I want to say yes, but honestly, I’m just not sure. Winter looks at me sometimes like he doesn’t even know me.”

  “And the other times?”

  “The other times, what?” I was confused by her question.

  “How does he look at you when he’s not looking at you like that?”

  “A lot of the time he doesn’t even look at me, but then when he does, it’s with this intense, fierce stare. I think it’s his grief when he does that… maybe…. God, I don’t know anymore. I can’t read him at the moment.”

  “Babe,” she said softly, “you’d know if it was grief. I know that Winter intensity, and it means he is far from giving up on you. I hate to give you this advice, because I know how bad you are at it, but you need to be patient.”

  She was right; I knew she was, but knowing it didn’t ease my inner turmoil.

  “Shit,” Cleo said as I mulled over her advice. “I have to go in a minute, but tell me what the plan is for tonight.”

  “I don’t know if we have a plan. I mean, Winter hasn’t said anything, and I’ve been so busy giving him space today that I didn’t ask.”

  “Okay, well call if you need me. I’ll be home after seven.”

  “Thanks, babe. I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she said before ending the call.

  I placed my phone on my lap, closed my eyes, and rested my head back against the couch. Taking a deep breath, I focused on clearing my mind and calming the anxiousness that filled me. I spent a good ten minutes doing that, and when I headed back to the lift, I felt a little more able to deal with whatever happened when I got back to the room.

  I was wrong, though, because when I reached my destination, I found Winter on the phone making plans to meet someone in the lobby in half an hour.

  Not what I’d expected, it flared all my emotions again. Somehow, I managed to keep them all on the inside.

  Winter dropped his phone on the bed and looked at me. “Max is coming over.”

  “You’re going out with him?”

  “Yeah. He wants to do dinner. Catch up some more now that we’ve cleared the air and gotten through today.”

  My heart sunk, but I understood this wasn’t him shutting me out. This was him being with his brother. “That sounds like a good idea,” I said, my voice betraying everything I felt.

  “Birdie,” he started, eyeing me with that intensity again, “the dinner invite includes you.”

  I wanted desperately to have dinner with them, but I didn’t want to intrude on their time together. Not after they’d had so much tension between them over the will and Melissa. “No, you go by yourself. I want you guys to have some alone time. I’ll grab some room service and watch some TV to wind down, and probably fall asleep by nine like I usually do.” There was no way I was falling asleep before Winter returned, but I didn’t want him thinking about me waiting here for him. I wanted him to stay out with his brother if that was what he wanted.

  Winter was no fool and he wasn’t fooled by what I’d said. “Max and I will have other time together. You sure you don’t wanna come?”

  No. “Yes.” I smiled. “Go. I’m good.”

  He took a moment, turning that over in his mind before nodding. “Okay.”

  As he headed for the door, I called out, “Your dad would be proud of you and Max. He would have loved today.”

  He slowed and looked back at me. He didn’t say anything, just looked. And then he was gone, and I let my tears fall. Not because of what was happening between us, but because of the torment I’d seen in his eyes.

  I ordered a burger and fries, and cheesecake for dinner. Total comfort food I’d normally not eat. A terrible choice because I felt bloated and sick within a few hours. Not the kind of sick that made me vomit, just the kind of sick that made me need to lie down and pray for divine intervention.

  I’d been lying down praying for a good half hour when a text came in.

  * * *

  Unknown number: Matt and I are in the hotel lobby. Wanna have a drink with us?

  * * *

  Max.

  I frowned at the fact Winter hadn’t texted me, but felt too ill to really question it.

  * * *

  Me: I ate too many carbs. I don’t feel well. Otherwise I would come down.

  Max: You need anything?

  Me: No, it’ll pass. But thank you <3

  Max: Let us know if you change your mind and want something from the chemist.

  Me: Will do xx

  * * *

  I dropped my phone on the bed and closed my eyes as waves of cramps took over my stomach. I knew they’d pass, but that could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to hours. I should not have eaten all those carbs.

  The only good thing to come from this was that my focus was taken off thinking about Winter. And so I spent the next forty-five minutes breathing my way through cramps and nausea. That was after I rummaged through my bag and found the pills I took when this happened. I should have looked for them earlier, but my mind was such a mess I hadn’t thought of it. Thankfully they worked, and just over an hour after Max texted, my phone sounded with another text. However, when I reached for my phone, there was no text. Weird. Then, another one came through and I realised Winter must have left his phone behind. When it rang, I located it on the bed and found the name King on the caller ID. I knew King was his club president. Figuring it might be important I answered the call.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Winter there?”

  “No, he left his phone in the hotel room. He’s downstairs, though, so I can get him to call you back if it’s important.”

  “It is. Get him to call me back ASAP.”

  The line went dead and I stared at the phone wondering if King was always that abrupt.

  Pushing up off the bed, I slid on my shoes, grabbed the room key, and headed downstairs. It was almost 10:00 p.m. and the lobby bar was quiet. Max’s voice led me to where he and Winter sat drinking.

  Max saw me first. Smiling, he said, “You’re feeling better?”

  Winter’s gaze met mine and he leaned forward, waiting for my answer. Even when he was mad with me, he couldn’t stop caring for me. It was right there in his eyes.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I found some drugs.” Holding Winter’s phone out to him, I said, “King called. He wants you to call him straight back. Said it’s important.”

  Winter stood and took the phone. “You sure you’re feeling better?”

  I gave him a reassuring smile. “Yes.”

  He nodded at Max. “Stay. Keep him company while I call King.”

  I took Winter’s seat and watched him walk towards the front doors of the hotel, the phone already to his ear.

  “He’s going to come around, Birdie,” Max said, drawing my attention to him. “He just needs time.”

  Max always had been the sensitive one. Where Winter was the take-charge one of them, the arrogantly masculine one, Max sensed emotions more. They were both very observant by nature, but Max felt his way while Winter had a tendency to force his way. It meant Max read people in a way Winter sometimes didn’t. This wasn’t the first time he’d talked me through problems with his brother.

  “How is he?” I asked, hating that I even had to. Hating that the distance between Winter and me created that need.

&
nbsp; “I think he’s lost. Between Dad’s death and what’s going on between the two of you, plus the stuff he and I have had come up, I think he’s struggling because he’s out there trying to cope with his grief, and his anger, and his confusion on his own. I spent last night talking with him, letting him get stuff out, and while I think it helped, he needs to talk some more.” He gave me a knowing smile. “We both know, though, that Matt isn’t the kind of guy to want to do much talking.”

  I gave him a knowing smile. “That trait runs in the Morrison men.” I pulled my feet up under me on the seat to get more comfortable. “Because Winter and I haven’t been talking, I’m not up with what’s going on between you guys. Has something else happened since the day you read the will? I mean, I don’t expect you to give me a blow-by-blow; I’m just wanting to understand what else Winter has going on his mind.”

  Max drained his glass of whisky and leaned back into his seat. Exhaling heavily, he said, “We had a blow-up on Sunday. Over Mel. I shared some stuff about my marriage with him and he told me what he thought of my choice to fight for it. Nothing was said that we both weren’t aware the other was thinking, but I told him if he can’t support me, I don’t want him in my life.” As I stared at him with surprise, he added, “All my life, I’ve felt the weight of Matt’s expectation and high standards. And Dad’s. I can’t do it anymore, Birdie. I won’t do it.”

  Oh, Max. I’d forgotten just how much I adored Winter’s brother. Max was the son more influenced by his mother, while Winter had been heavily influenced by his father. I’d watched over the years as they’d each done inner battle over their differences, and how their similarities had always brought them back together. And how they’d held tightly to the other because of their fierce family loyalty.

  “You know he only has those standards and expectations because he wants the very best for you, don’t you?”

  His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply. “Yes, but what he has to understand is he can’t force his wishes for me onto me. I want what I want in life, and Matt needs to stop demanding more or different from me. Unconditional love has no conditions. No limitations. No expectations.”

  He was right. I’d watched him and Winter struggle because of Winter’s rigid expectations. My man was exactly like his father—stubborn, opinionated, and demanding. They both challenged those they loved to be better and to do better, but Max wasn’t wrong when he said Winter had been a little too hard-line at times. That was something he’d learned from his father.

  “So I’m taking it you two have talked this out,” I said.

  A smile played on his lips. “You said it yourself; neither of us are big talkers, but yes, we found our way.”

  “I’m glad. I hated seeing you guys going head to head.”

  “Yeah,” he said quietly, thoughtfully. “Dad would have hated it, too.”

  A sharp pain of shared sorrow hit me. A death always reminded me of how both the big and little things could trigger the “Dad would have hated that” or “Mum would have wanted this for me” kind of thoughts. Winter’s dad would have wanted us to put our differences aside over what happened five years ago and get on with loving each other. I wondered if Winter was grappling with those thoughts. If I knew my man, he would be, because like he’d said at the funeral, his father’s lessons were ingrained in him.

  Max’s gaze shifted past me. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” Winter said. His whisky-soaked voice hit me right as his eyes met mine. My belly filled with flutters at what I saw in his eyes. He was still mad, but the edge was gone. I wasn’t sure what emotions were there now, but he wasn’t looking at me like he had last night.

  I kicked my legs out from under me and stood. Eyeing Max, I said, “Thanks for the talk.”

  Then, to Winter, I said softly, “I’ll let you two get back to your conversation.”

  As I took a step to move past him, he wrapped his hand around my wrist. “Stay. We’re just reminiscing.”

  We were so close I could smell the whisky on his breath, and the scent of his that I loved. Winter smelled like leather and the woody cologne I’d introduced to him about eight years ago. It both surprised and delighted me that he still wore it all these years later.

  I nodded and sat back down while he asked Max if he wanted another drink. He then looked at me again. “Do you want anything?”

  “No, I’m good.” God, we’re being so fucking formal with each other.

  Max and I discussed his kids while Winter was getting drinks. He caught me up on how they were going with school and sport. When Winter rejoined us, he sat next to me, taking a sip of whisky before placing his glass on the low table between Max and us. We all turned silent, the tension between Winter and me taking over the conversation.

  Max ended up filling the silence. “Remember that time Dad caught you two doing the dirty in his lounge room? He mentioned that to me the other week.”

  Oh God, did I remember. That was something I would never forget. Winter and I had been together for about six months at the time. I was a naïve eighteen-year-old back then; Winter had been twenty, with a lot more life experience than me. I’d only slept with one other guy, and had made Winter wait three months before I’d slept with him. So at the time his father had caught us having sex in his house, we’d been having sex as often as we could, anywhere we could.

  Winter chuckled as he took in the flush of my cheeks. It was the first time in days I’d seen anything but pain or anger fill his features, and I liked that Max had made that happen. “Fuck,” he said. “Dad never let me forget that. He must have brought it up at least every few years with me.”

  “Really?” I asked. “Why? What did he say?”

  His eyes flashed with heat rather than the laughter of a moment ago as he said, “He reminded me that was the kind of love I needed in my life—one filled with fun and passion.”

  My pulse raced. My skin tingled. My memories chased away my hesitation with him. “He called me a few times after we broke up. Did you know that?”

  “No, I didn’t. He never told me.” I saw his surprise, but he shouldn’t have been. His dad always had his back.

  “He asked me if I’d had a good reason to break your heart.”

  A hush fell over us. The room fell away. The noise around us failed to exist. Max was forgotten. It was just our memories, our heartbreak, and us.

  “What did you tell him,” Winter asked, the deep gravel I loved in his voice surfacing.

  “That I believed I did and that I wished I didn’t.”

  “What did he say to that?” Oh God, that gravel.

  “He told me that love keeps no record of wrongs. That it always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” I’m going to cry if he keeps staring at me like he is.

  “Corinthians,” he murmured. “He was always quoting that to me, too.”

  “Another time, he told me a strong relationship requires two people who choose to love each other, even when they struggle to like each other.” I paused for a beat. “Your dad was a smart man, Winter. He knew I’d done something and I was fearful of telling you. In each conversation we had, he was trying to tell me you could handle it, that you would still choose to love me regardless of what I’d done. I just felt too much guilt to see this was true.” I reached out for him, placing my hand on his forearm. “I’m so sorry.”

  For the first time since I’d confessed my secrets to him, he listened to my apology. I didn’t blame him that he hadn’t been able to before. He’d had to process my actions before he could even listen to an apology. And this time, he was listening.

  Nodding, he said gruffly, “Dad always told me to get my head out of my ass and go find you again.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck”—he reached for his drink and threw some whisky down his throat—“I should have listened.”

  “We both should have,” I said, wishing like hell I had. Wishing like hell I hadn’t wasted all these years.

  Winter turne
d to his brother. “Why did Dad bring that up with you? The sex in the lounge room thing.”

  Max smiled and drank some of his whisky. “He was trying to help me with my marriage. Told me I should fuck my wife all over the house like you guys used to. Told me I was too fucking uptight and that I should have a little fun with Mel. Mostly though, he was telling me to let go of the muck and remember that the only thing worth holding onto was the love.”

  A smile slowly spread out over my face and I shook my head at Max as I mouthed a silent “thank you.” He hadn’t brought that memory up for shits and giggles. He’d brought it up very intentionally. And it had hit the mark. Winter’s eyes were on me, and this time I saw the hope in them that had been missing the last couple of days. I saw the determination that had been missing, too. And I knew that when Winter was determined, nothing stopped him from getting what he wanted.

  27

  WINTER

  I was sitting here looking at the woman I loved, and for the first time in days, I was seeing something other than my anger and disappointment. Birdie had fucked up, and yeah, I was still fucking mad with her about it, but listening to her—really listening to her—and listening to my father through both her and Max, I was reminded of what I’d told her recently. I’d said that cheating was my only hard limit. That life was too fucking short to get hung up on shit that didn’t matter when all was said and done.

  She’d done something I didn’t agree with and then she’d kept it from me. When all was said and done, none of that mattered. She loved me. I knew she did. The trouble was, I’d gotten to the crux of my anger with her last night when I’d talked it over with Max, and it didn’t concern any of that. I was angry because we’d lost five years, and I was angry that she’d walked away without giving me the chance to tell her I’d accept what she did. And somewhere in all of that, I struggled to get past my irrational fear she’d leave me again when shit got too fucking hard for her. I knew it was irrational at this point because shit was already fucking hard and yet here she was, still by my side.