Jardin's Gamble (Haven, Texas 9)

Carrick let out a breath as he looked up at the ceiling. Jardin wasn’t sure what he was doing, but when he dropped his head to stare at Jardin, his face was emotionless.

“This wasn’t why I came back here. I’m not interested in rehashing the past.”

“No? Then why are you still angry at me?”

“I said I’m not interested in rehashing it. I didn’t say I forgave you.”

“You weren’t blameless in what happened, you know.”

Carrick raised his eyebrows. “So, I don’t roll over and accept your apology like a good boy, you’re going to turn things back on me?”

Shit. He had a point. But Jardin needed to get through the barrier he’d erected to protect himself. Carrick had always been an open book. Or Jardin thought he had been. But he’d hidden shit. And he wasn’t blameless.

“Hmm, have you ever been a good boy, Carrick?” He strode forward, not touching the bigger man but crowding in close. Physically, Carrick had him beat. But he wasn’t as dominant as Jardin was. And Jardin had an inkling that Carrick might bottom for him.

“I’m no boy.”

“But you could be, couldn’t you?”

“Cut it with the bullshit, Jardin. I’m not your sub.”

“But did you want to be?”

Carrick swallowed heavily.

“I’ve always wondered if I misinterpreted things. I’d see the heat in your eyes, I’d start to say something, but I’d always hold back. That was my first mistake. My second was believing in what Sally told me.”

Carrick scowled. “What did that bitch tell you?”

“That you were unhappy with us. That she wasn’t enough for you. That you wanted out, wanted other people.”

Carrick looked away.

“Her death was my fault, you know,” Jardin told him.

The other man gaped at him. “What? No, it wasn’t. I was supposed to be watching her that night. Making sure she didn’t drink too much. But I couldn’t stand to be around her. And she drank so much she . . .”

Slipped into the pool and couldn’t get out. He’d managed to keep that part out of the media, the bit about how intoxicated she’d been.

“It wasn’t your fault. Listen to what you’re saying. One of us always had to watch her to make sure she didn’t drink too much. We should have gotten her help. Professional help.”

“Still doesn’t make it your fault,” Carrick told him. “And you blamed me.”

“I lashed out at you. Something I’ve regretted ever since. I’m not a perfect man.”

Carrick gave him a derisive look. “Oh, really?”

“I was feeling guilty for her death and I took that out on you. It wasn’t fair or right. And I apologize. I know you might never forgive me, but I owe you that apology. I’ve owed it to you for a long time. Earlier that day I confronted her about the way she’d been treating you. She made some cutting remark, like how I was more interested in fucking you anyway. And I told her that yeah, I was. It infuriated her. She started throwing things at me. I told her she had until the morning to get out, then I got that call about Lottie.”

“

I remember,” Carrick said softly. Lottie had been kidnapped several years before. While she’d been doing a lot better, she’d refused to leave the house and had episodes where she’d hurt herself. That day she’d cut her thigh badly.

“I should have made time to tell you what was going on, but I thought I’d have time to figure it out when I got home. Then when she died . . . I was messed up, Carrick. I never should have said those things. I don’t know how else to tell you I’m sorry.”

Carrick looked away for a long moment. Then an assessing gaze moved over him. “You used me as an excuse.”

This was it. The moment of truth. But he owed him the truth. “No. I didn’t like the way she treated you. And if I thought there was a chance of me being with you, I wanted to pursue it.”