One to Love (One to Hold 4)

Opening his hand, light glinted off the shiny bronze. It was a medal on a navy ribbon with red stripes. “It’s my father’s distinguished service award. It was given to me when he died. I need you to give it to Lane as the first grandson when he’s older.”

Concern flooded my chest. “Why are you giving this to me now? You can give it to him yourself. Later.”

He was quiet, his eyes fixed on the memento in his hand as if he saw something more than just a piece of metal. “That might not be possible, and I need to pass it down. It’s important I do this.”

Flying through the millions of possibilities, I studied his face. “Are you ill? Do you want me to call Patrick?”

That broke whatever reverie he was in. “No,” he ordered. “This is just between us. I don’t want my brother involved.”

“But he has Lane...”

Stuart nodded. “That’s why I’m asking you for this favor.”

I shook my head. None of it made sense. Heirlooms were handed down when someone died. Stuart appeared healthy, shit he appeared freakin’ hot as hell, but I could tell something was off with him. Chewing my lip, I wondered if I should press the issue.

I was about to speak, but Mariska slid the smoothie she’d just made across the counter to him. “On the house. It’s full of lavender and blueberry. It’ll help you relax.”

He looked at her, and that charge was back. Perhaps it was because physically he was so much like his brother, I felt like I could read his body language. Their eyes met and mingled, and Mariska’s cheeks flushed. Still, he resisted.

“I have to go.” His voice was quiet—as if he were speaking only to her.

My friend wasn’t the least bit discouraged. She reached forward, touching his hand. “Where are you going?”

Even though I could tell he wanted to pull away, he seemed hypnotized her. “My uncle has a place out west where... where I can breathe. Maybe I can find some peace.”

The muscle in his jaw moved, and he stepped away from the counter, away from her. He’d done what he came to do, and I could tell Mariska was more than he expected from this errand.

“Please,” I stepped toward him. “Let me call Patrick. I’m sure he’d want to know—”

“No.” His eyes flashed, and a charge of fear radiated in my chest. Clearly, Stuart Knight was not someone to cross. “Do not call my brother. I don’t want to see him.”

He turned and headed for the door, but Mariska grabbed the smoothie he’d left behind and ducked under the counter. Stuart might scare me, but she wasn’t letting whatever had passed between them get away so easily.

“Wait! You forgot something!” She caught his hand, and he paused. He turned back to her, and his expression softened.

For a moment, he stood there. She held his hand as well as his gaze. “Thanks,” he said, taking the beverage she held. Their eyes met again, but he let her go, pushing through the glass doors.

I went back inside the bar, shoving the bundle in my bag and fishing around for my phone. Badass or not, something was seriously wrong, and I needed to call Patrick. His brother was proud and clearly strong, but the guy who just handed me his father’s medal of honor was contemplating some serious shit.

“Oh my god, Kenny.” Mariska collapsed against the bar. “I’m in love.”

My lips pressed together as I touched my recent calls and then Patrick’s number. “I saw that. What the hell was going on with you two?”

“That mountain of honey brown, hazelnut deliciousness just left here with my heart.”

I moved around the small space, waiting for the call to connect. “Gorgeous genes clearly run in their family.”

Patrick’s phone kept ringing until finally it went to voicemail. Hearing his greeting, I thought about it. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say—and even if I were, it probably wasn’t the type of thing to leave in a message. I hit disconnect and shoved my phone in my purse.

Mariska was still leaning against the wall, one hand on her heart, when she turned back to me. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling Patrick, what does it look like? That mountain of hazelnut... whatever you called him is not in a good place, and he just gave me their father’s heirloom.”

“You can’t call Patrick!” She stood up quickly. “He asked you not to. Twice!”

“Stuart Knight is in a dark place. I’ve got to tell Patrick.”

“He said he needs to breathe. Don’t break his trust.”