Page 7 of The Sound of Secrets

I sighed and gave her a light squeeze. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. I missed you too.”

I didn’t realize how much until I was home. I used to return because I had no choice. But now there was no place else I’d rather be.

Winnie grabbed my hand, no longer flinching at the rough and uneven skin, and pulled me toward the living room. “Aunt Channing ordered Thai food. Some of it’s really spicy, but there’s plenty if you’re hungry.”

I got willingly dragged into the open living area. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Channing sitting on the floor behind the ornate coffee table with a pair of chopsticks in her hand. She was eating out of a to-go container, her eyes skipping between me and whatever was playing on the massive TV. She looked perfectly at home. Not like she was going to bolt the minute she saw my face.

“Welcome back. You look tired. If you don’t want Thai, I can throw something else together.” She gestured with the chopsticks and didn’t seem to care that the sauce dripped everywhere. It was so different from the empty and lonely reception I was used to. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I cleared my throat and motioned for Winnie to continue eating. “I’m not hungry. It’s been a long couple of weeks. I’m tired. I’m going to wash up and go to bed. We can catch up tomorrow.” I bent and looked my niece directly in the eye. “Don’t think you’re getting away with unacceptable behavior just because I’ve been too busy to interfere.” Winnie fluttered her pale lashes and had the good sense to look contrite. “Stay with your aunt until Rocco gets back.”

One reason I let Alistair purchase this brownstone, sight unseen, was because the building next to it was vacant as well. I no longer kept a full staff like my mother had, but I liked to keep Rocco and the woman I’d hired to take care of household tasks close by. When they were on duty, they could stay in the staff building next door.

I walked up two flights of stairs to the top floor, which was converted into the primary suite. Alistair designed an oasis that had nothing to do with my personal style, but I had to admit I loved the big French doors that led to an outdoor terrace with impressive views of the city. It was leaps and bounds better than the panoramic scene from my penthouse. Through the glass, I could see a veritable jungle of plants I knew Channing was responsible for.

Hers died when she brought them to the Halliday manor. Maybe that should’ve been the first hint she and I were not meant to be. Everything the Hallidays touched withered away under the shadow of that name.

I stripped off my clothes as I wearily dragged my body across the room. I caught sight of the angry, red scars on my neck and shoulder in the bathroom. I wondered if I would ever get used to the difference in my appearance. Whenever I wanted to feel sorry for myself, I forcefully reminded myself that whatever marks I had from my mother’s cruelty, they didn’t touch the amount of suffering my younger brother endured at her hands.

I cranked the water as hot as I could stand. I stood under the spray for a long time to loosen the muscles that were locked tight. Being home was the biggest thing to help me relax, and knowing that Channing was stillunder my roof was the greatest balm to my ravaged soul. There were a lot of things I was willing to walk away from since my life flipped upside down. Channing wasn’t one of them.

I scrubbed myself down in the rustic, yet modern, shower. I had to give it to Alistair; the bastard was extremely skilled at his job. While the brownstone wasn’t my personal austere aesthetic, it was beautifully decorated, leaving me with little to complain about. Once I had time to settle in, I realized my half-brother didn’t take my taste into consideration; he was going off what he thought Channing might like if she could afford a place in this part of the city. Every square inch suited her unique, mishmashed, uncoordinated vibe. It grated on me that he knew her well enough to design an entire home around her preferences. But if she liked it enough to stay, to wait for me, I wouldn’t muster up the energy to be angry at the cheeky bastard.

When I walked out of the bathroom, I faltered. Channing was sitting on the end of the massive four-poster bed, swinging her legs back and forth. Her body leaned back on her hands as she stared at the open doorway. I knew from where she was positioned that she had a clear view of the large mirror over the custom vanity. Since I left the door open, there was no steam to coat the glass while I showered. Depending on how long she’d been sitting there, she might’ve watched my entire shower. And there was no way she could miss the scars on my body.

I wanted to be self-conscious, but her attention flitted over the scars and damaged skin as if it wasn’t even there. But her hazel eyes focused on the ugly puckeredscar from where I’d been shot in the side, and the one higher on my shoulder.

Channing jumped off the bed and stepped toward me. I caught her fingers when she reached out to touch the offending spot. I squeezed her hand and held it within my grasp.

“Does it still hurt?” The question was muted, but it felt loaded.

I gave my head a shake, which sent drops of water flying. “Not physically. My hands are much more uncomfortable.” Originally, I had some issues with the internal injuries from the gunshot, but everything healed over time. My hands didn’t seem to get any better. It was another reason stepping down from my lofty position made sense. I wasn’t able to work endlessly like a machine anymore.

I was all too aware of exactly how human and flawed I was.

Channing used her thumb to trace along the raised and bumpy skin pressed against hers. “Does anything besides booze and pills help the pain?”

I attempted to pull away. She turned the tables and held onto me. I sighed and met her probing gaze. “I haven’t found anything that helps. How long are you staying, Harvey? Next time I come home from a long work trip, are you going to be off God knows where again?”

Her hands tightened on mine, and a lopsided smile played across her mouth. “What else have you tried? My boss told me you haven’t been following your doctor’s orders.”

Frustrated, I went to pull away, but Channing held on tighter. “I need to know how long you’re going to stick around.” The uncertainty might be my undoing. I wasn’t a man who did well with the unknown. Especially after learning most of my life was a convoluted lie created by my mother just so she could live her life to certain standards.

Channing shook our hands loose and shocked me by reaching for the knot of the towel that was wrapped around my waist. Part of my brain wanted to intercept her and demand an answer to the very important question I’d just asked her. Regrettably, my common sense didn’t stand a chance against my desperate and needy cock. Every throb reminded me of the months and minutes we’d been apart. I wanted to pin her down in more ways than one.

“Maybe you need to take your mind off the pain.” The halos of blue around her irises twinkled with mischief. “I have just the thing.”

My towel hit the floor a second before her knees did. I wanted to ask how she could do this after running away from me. She went so far. How could she tolerate being so close when things between us were so unclear? I wondered if I was ever going to understand how her mind worked.

But then the next second I couldn’t think of anything at all because my hands were in her hair and her mouth was wrapped around my dick.

Channing

Sucking dick wasn’t only a perfect distraction from whatever aches and pains plagued Win. It was also a solid way to stop him from pressing me for answers I didn’t have. I told myself I was going to leave after Winnie’s birthday. However, with the date rapidly approaching, I’d yet to make any moves toward finding a permanent place to stay. I lied to myself, saying that I didn’t want to leave Winnie while Win was working so much, but I missed Win while he was gone, and wanted to be there to welcome him home. It felt like the least I could do after he moved rivers and mountains to make sure I didn’t mess Winnie up any more than she already was.

I didn’t plan on rekindling the intimate part of our relationship, but there was something about seeing him shy and hesitant over his appearance that tugged at my taut heartstrings. Jumping to shoving his cock down my throat without even a hello kiss was a drastic move, even for someone as impulsive as me. Watching him take a shower didn’t do anything to cool the heat in my bloodeither. Even banged up with his veneer of perfection dinged and dented, Win was still a dangerously attractive man. His thinner frame and longer hair gave him a new roguish look. The scars dotting his neck and shoulder lent themselves to an almost pirate vibe, as if he were now ruling the high seas instead of the boardroom.

Being attracted to this man had never been a problem for me.