Command Performance

“Now that I’m clean I understand how selfish I was, ignoring my family and friends when they tried to help, forcing them to deal with my problems when they had their own to manage.”

Maggie nodded. Sierra sounded like a walking, talking rehab brochure—and Maggie would know. She’d read them all at some point while trying to convince her father to seek help, but something about Sierra’s voice suggested sincerity.

“I’m not going to start using again,” Sierra continued. “Another month of rehab won’t change that.”

“It might help you stay clean,” Maggie said.

“I can do this. I’m going to get my life back on track. I’ve changed. And this time, I’m not going to let Hunter down. Or myself.

”

God, how Maggie had longed to hear those words from her father, for him to wake up from his drunken haze and admit how destructive his drinking was. Oh, he’d apologized plenty, but he’d never meant it. He’d never tried to change. If he’d only had an ounce of Sierra’s determination.

“Sierra, I know you believe you can stay clean without rehab, but if the doctors think you should still be there, maybe you should be selfish for a little longer.” Maggie walked around the island and pulled out the chair beside Hunter’s sister.

“He can’t pay for it,” Sierra said bluntly. “He’s already past due on last month’s bill. I know. I broke into the office and saw the second delinquent notice when I was looking for his temporary address. Your address.”

Maggie reached over, covering Sierra’s hand with hers. “Breaking and entering really isn’t the first sign of recovery.”

“I had to find Hunter.”

The kitchen door swung open and a sweaty, shirtless Hunter strode into the room. “You found me. Now, do you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here?”

* * *

HUNTER HAD RUN the last mile back to the house driven by one thought. Shower sex. He’d raced down the hall planning to scoop Maggie up, carry her to the first floor guest bathroom and make her forget all about her gutters. Instead, he’d found her perched on a kitchen stool beside his sister. He glanced out the window over the sink. How had he missed Sierra’s piece-of-shit truck parked beside the Mercedes? Shower sex. He’d been too damn focused on getting Maggie naked and under running water.

“Well, Sierra?” he demanded, hands on hips. His chest still heaved from exertion. Pile on a heavy dose of what-the-hell-is-my-sister-doing-here anger and he didn’t even trust himself to pour a glass of water. He just might smash the damn thing on the floor.

Sierra let go of Maggie’s hand and straightened her spine as if she’d prepared for this confrontation. Smart girl. She’d known he’d be pissed.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I’m clean now and I’m not going to start again.”

“Just because you aren’t using now doesn’t mean you won’t use again later,” Hunter challenged. “You should be in rehab. The doctors said you needed to be there.”

Sierra shook her head. “I can do this. Stay sober. I know I can. If you can just let me crash at your place in Tennessee until I find a job, I can get back on my feet. Please, Hunter, you’ve done enough. It’s time for me to take care of myself. Once I have a job, I can get a place of my own. So if I can just stay—”

“No, you can’t.” He went over to the cabinet, took out a glass and turned on the faucet, too damn thirsty to wait any longer.

“Please, it won’t be for long,” Sierra pleaded.

Without turning around, he took a long drink. The water solved the problem of his thirst, but it didn’t change what he had to tell Sierra and, because she was still in the room, Maggie. “I don’t have a place anymore.”

No one said a word, but he knew they were thinking the same thing he was. He didn’t have a home because he was flat broke. He couldn’t even afford to keep a roof over his sister’s head. Yeah, she should have stayed in rehab, but that didn’t change the fact that when she eventually did get out, he still wouldn’t have a place for her to sleep while she rebuilt her life. Sierra was his sister, his family. She meant more to him than anything in the world—his job, his pride, anything—and he had no way to take care of her, not without money. He had nothing to give either of these women.

Hunter glanced at Maggie. He could tell himself he only wanted kinky sex with her until he was blue in the face. After last night, he knew the truth. A week with her wasn’t enough. He wanted her in his life. But he couldn’t start a relationship when he had no way to take care of her.

Hunter closed his eyes and mentally set aside his pride. He’d beg if he had to, but he wasn’t letting his sister walk away from her recovery. “I don’t have a place right now,” he clarified. “But I’ll have somewhere for you to stay soon. And right now, you need to go back to rehab.”

“I can’t,” Sierra said. “It’s too expensive.”

“Sierra—”

“I’ll pay for it,” Maggie interrupted.

Silence filled the kitchen as Hunter turned his attention to Maggie. She looked determined, just as she had that day he’d watched her present her book to a room full of generals. Hunter shook his head. “Maggie, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m offering,” she said. “I have the money.”