Fearless (Pier 70 Book 2) Read online

  A kid?

  He couldn’t breathe from the agony that filled his insides. It felt as though there were a band on his chest, slowly tightening, squeezing the life from him. It was a physical ache, and it threatened to take him to his knees.

  “Dare… Come on. I don’t wanna fight with you.”

  They shouldn’t have to fight about this. They should’ve been on the same page. Two years was a long damn time to be with someone, to give every piece of yourself … yet, it seemed Dare was the only one who’d come to terms with that.

  Yet Noah called him a kid.

  Standing there in the shadows of Noah’s living room, the light from the television flickering across Noah’s handsome face, Dare knew what had to happen. He’d spent the past two years falling deeper and deeper in love with this man, but this wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument. And as far as he could tell, they didn’t seem to be getting any closer to making this a permanent relationship. No matter what Dare wanted.

  As far as he was concerned, he’d fought the good fight. He’d gone after what he wanted, to no avail. And truth be told, he was tired of fighting. They obviously wanted different things.

  “You’re right.” Dare moved closer, allowing Noah to wrap his arms around him. He gripped Noah tightly, burying his face in Noah’s neck, fighting the tremor of emotions that rumbled in his chest. Dare breathed him in, memorizing the fresh scent, the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his arms surrounding him.

  “You ready for bed?” Noah pulled back and looked at him.

  “Yeah, sure.” He wasn’t, but it sounded good. Dare took a deep breath and stepped back.

  “Good. I’m exhausted. Come on.” Noah took Dare’s hand, the subject dropped just like that. “I wanna hold you.”

  With his heart cracked open and bleeding in his chest, Dare followed Noah into the bedroom. He crawled into bed, slid beneath the covers, and allowed Noah to hold him.

  For the last time.

  One

  Saturday, May 28th

  Present day

  “What time does your flight leave tomorrow?”

  Dare Davis glanced up from the iPad screen—where he’d been playing WordBrain, of all things—to see Cam standing at the main counter.

  Giving his friend a quick once-over, Dare had to admit he was impressed. The guy didn’t look nervous or in a panic, yet the countdown to D-Day was on. T-minus five days until Cam Strickland and Gannon Burgess would tie the knot, officially hyphenating them.

  Strickland-Burgess.

  Or was it Burgess-Strickland?

  He grimaced, realizing he’d never asked.

  Burg-land it was.

  Dare grinned at his friend. “Aww, isn’t that sweet. You worried I won’t be there to watch you profess your undying love?”

  “I’m not worried that you won’t be there.” Cam smirked, clearly brushing off Dare’s snide comment as he had since they’d made the big announcement. With a devilish gleam in his eye, Cam’s grin widened. “I’m more worried that you will.”

  Ha ha. Funny. Dare chuckled. For the past couple of weeks, Dare had received a couple dozen warnings—from everyone—that he was not allowed to pull any pranks before, during, or immediately after Cam and Gannon’s wedding. In fact, they’d sworn him off any type of prank until early June—as if outlining the time frame mattered at all to him. Of course, Dare hadn’t actually planned to do anything drastic—at least not until Cam had mentioned it. Multiple times.

  Now, he wasn’t willing to make any promises.

  When Lulu—the three-year-old golden retriever who was as much a part of the marina as … oh, say, the lake—came over and rested her head on Dare’s knee, he gave the dog’s head a scratch.

  Dare looked at Cam. “I get into Orlando at one thirty in the afternoon.” And then he had to travel to Port Canaveral. He smiled when Cam frowned, already knowing what Cam was thinking. “And before you freak, I will make it to the ship before it leaves. I swear.”

  Because everyone who could run the day-to-day of Pier 70 Marina would be on that ship to celebrate Cam and Gannon’s nuptials, the four of them had worked the schedule so that Dare would be the last one to leave, ensuring they had coverage right up until the last possible minute. Since they would have to close the marina for tours for eight straight days—the week that included Memorial Day weekend—it had been the only logical thing to do. And though Teague had said he would stay back and man the place while everyone else went on the seven-night cruise to the Bahamas, Dare had simply smacked Teague on the back of the head and told him not to be a dumb ass.

  They would all be present and accounted for on D-Day, no matter what.

  Luckily, one of Cam’s father’s friends was willing to pitch in and cover the place in case of emergencies, as well as take care of Lulu, while they were gone. Everything else would have to wait. It was rare, but there were some things that were more important than work. Love and marriage and baby carriages apparently qualified.

  The visual of Cam pushing a baby stroller made Dare chuckle to himself.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Dare shrugged off Cam’s question.

  “Shouldn’t you be heading to the airport?” Dare glanced at the clock, then back to Cam. It was only nine in the morning, but Cam and Gannon, as well as most of the others who would also be boarding the ship tomorrow, were flying to Florida today and staying in a hotel overnight.

  “Gannon’s got it covered.” Cam grinned.

  “So, that means Milly’s running point and making sure y’all get where you need to be?” Dare knew how this worked.

  “Yes, that’s what I meant.”

  Of course it was. Milly Holcomb, Gannon’s assistant slash best friend slash maid of honor, was on her game, all right. She’d been so busy these past few months getting things ready for the wedding that Dare hadn’t seen her since February, though he’d had many text conversations with her. Including the one from last night, when she’d all but threatened to castrate him if he didn’t show up on time.

  “And the best man?”

  “Packed up and ready to go.”

  Spinning around in his chair, Dare found the source of the voice. He saw Roan Gregory—a.k.a. the best man—walking in the back door, wheeling a suitcase behind him.

  “Ooh, spiffy.” Dare looked Roan up and down.

  “What?” Roan frowned as he looked down at himself. “Because I’m wearing jeans?”

  Dare grinned. Their preferred uniform at the marina was shorts and a T-shirt—year round. Sometimes just shorts. “Nah. Because your shirt has those little round things. What’re they called?”

  The line in Roan’s forehead deepened. “Buttons?”

  Dare nodded, smirking. “Yeah. Those. Nice touch.”

  Watching Roan, Dare tried to determine if there was any trace of the confused emotions the man had admitted to having all those months ago when Cam and Gannon had first started dating. Although Roan’s personal life hadn’t picked up—at least not that Dare knew of, anyway—it seemed as though Roan had realized the error of his ways. The man hadn’t been in love with Cam as he’d said he was. Instead, he’d been worried that he would lose his best friend.

  Didn’t look to be the case anymore. Thank God.

  Probably helped that Gannon had all but hired Roan on to be one of his most trusted beta testers for his upcoming video game releases, ultimately feeding Roan’s gaming addiction. Dare figured it wasn’t easy to have a grudge against the guy who provided your fix.

  Cam cleared his throat. “Anyone seen Teague? Or Hudson?”

  “Did you know…?” Dare tapped his finger on his lips, casting a quick glance at Cam, then Roan, and back again. “I read somewhere that there are more than sixty-one thousand Americans airborne over the United States in an average hour? I’m thinking y’all should be part of that number in the very near future.”

  Cam flipped him off, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Could you just go
get on a plane?” Dare grumbled, still smiling. “You’re supposed to be relaxing, getting your muscles prepared for that ball and chain you’re gonna drag around with you for the rest of your life.” Dare widened his eyes as he looked from Cam to Roan. He put his hand over his mouth. “Oops. Did I say that out loud?”

  Cam barked a laugh. “Fine.” Cam looked at Roan. “You ready to head to the airport?”

  “Whenever y’all are.” Roan’s confidence wavered, his eyes sliding to Dare. “You sure you can handle this place for a day?”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d stood sentry over the marina, but Dare pretended to consider that. “I read somewhere that there were, like, a hundred and thirty-four million houses in the United States a couple of years ago.” He glanced at Cam as he explained. “Yes, the article was old, but still offered valuable information.” Dare tapped his finger on his chin as he smiled. “And if I remember correctly, there were something like one point three million house fires that year.” Dare met Roan’s gaze. “That means statistically there’s less than a one percent chance that—”

  “I get it,” Roan groused, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Just don’t catch the place on fire.”

  Dare offered his best smile, all teeth. “I’ll try not to. Now, if you don’t mind”—Dare motioned toward the iPad—“I’ve got a game waiting to kick my ass.”

  “See you tomorrow.” Cam offered a two-finger salute as he shouldered his bag.

  “You can count on it.”

  He watched his two closest friends walk out the front door, Gannon coming down from the upstairs apartment to join them. Dare laughed when the alarm sensor sounded after they were out in the parking lot. “Lulu, someone’s gotta fix that thing.”

  Lulu lifted her head from where it now rested on the floor near his feet, but didn’t appear at all impressed by the conversation. Not that Dare had expected her to be. For all intents and purposes, their guard dog was more of a living, breathing floor decoration.

  For a few minutes, Dare stared out the front door, watching as Cam loaded their things in Gannon’s Lexus and then drove away, the car spitting gravel behind it, taking his best friends off to the airport. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

  Sometimes it was hard to believe that Cam had settled down and was about to get married.

  “Married, Lulu. Burg-land. Can you believe that shit?” He kept his eyes on the parking lot as he mumbled to the dog.

  Honestly, Dare had never considered getting married. Well, not since that one time many moons ago... So, yes, technically there had been one point in his life when he’d thought he might join the land of the hyphenated, legally or hypothetically. But he’d quickly learned that all parties involved needed to be on the same playing field to make a relationship.

  Unfortunately, Dare had only thought he’d met that guy. Turned out that hadn’t been the case at all. And since that fateful day when he’d finally accepted that he was the only one looking for a happily ever after, he’d stopped wishing for it. So much so that he hadn’t had a relatively serious relationship in…

  Hmm. It had been a while. Damn. A long fucking time, that was how long it had been. In fact, it had been fifteen freaking years since he’d last had an actual relationship.

  Not that he had any intention of thinking about that now. He needed to tie up the loose ends here at the marina so he could head out first thing in the morning and celebrate with his friends.

  “Come on, Lulu.” Dare eyed the snoozing dog. “Let’s get some tools. I’ve got an idea on how to fix that door sensor.”

  “Good job out there today.”

  The sound of heavy-booted steps had Noah Pearson looking up to see Detrick Miller, the captain of Station 45, as he passed through the room.

  With a nod and an exhausted smile, Noah reclined in the worn leather chair, staring up at the flat-screen television mounted on the wall in front of him. Behind him, he heard the murmur of conversation, along with the distinct click from the Ping-Pong table being used in the recreation room.

  Captain Miller was referring to the four-car pileup they’d assisted with a short while ago, pulling a frantic mother and two small kids out of a crushed compact that had been precariously close to going through the guardrail.

  It’d been one hell of a morning already and it was just getting started. That, combined with the fact that he’d doubled up on his roofing jobs this past week, meant he was now running on pure adrenaline. Although Noah would’ve preferred to sleep away the rest of the day, there was a subtle hum of energy beneath his skin, making it nearly impossible to relax. He was tempted to head to the weight room. Do something to burn off some of the minutes counting down until he was out of there for the next two weeks, but he couldn’t seem to drag his ass out of the chair.

  Two solid weeks.

  He still couldn’t believe he was taking some time off. In the event they didn’t get a call, he would be at the fire station for—he glanced at his watch—at least twenty more hours. Then, off on a cruise to the Caribbean for eight days, followed by a week of catching up on some z’s.

  Closing his eyes, Noah took a deep breath. How he’d allowed his stepsister, Milly, to manipulate him into going on this excursion was beyond him. And by manipulate, he meant use her womanly wiles (otherwise known as a smile) to get him to agree.

  Truth was, Noah was happy that Milly’s boss had found the love of his life. For months on end, Milly had gone on and on about how Gannon was finally happy and she couldn’t wait for him and the guy he was marrying to seal the deal. Because Noah had only met Gannon twice, he hadn’t paid too much attention to her ramblings, but he appreciated her excitement.

  However, the invitation had blindsided him.

  It wasn’t that he and Milly were all that close. His mom had married her dad three years ago, and during that time, they’d spent a minimal amount of time together, mostly an impromptu dinner with the parents or the occasional holiday meal. Other than that, they shared a few texts to check in from time to time, but for the most part, Noah didn’t see or talk to her much.

  Probably because he worked so much. When he wasn’t working a shift at the station, he was running his roofing business.

  First and foremost, Noah was a firefighter, and he lived for his job, having been on Engine 45 for the better part of the last thirteen years. Becoming a firefighter had been his lifelong dream, and it kept him on his toes, which was all that he cared about. He’d learned long ago that keeping busy was the best way to avoid what was lacking in his life.

  His last semi-relationship—more like friends with benefits—had detonated more than five years ago. He hadn’t been interested in repeating that anytime in the near future—his track record with relationships was rocky at best—so his social life was on the fritz. Which explained why he spent so much time at the station with the guys he considered family. They were easy to be around, so it wasn’t a hardship.

  “Pearson!”

  Sliding one eye open, Noah nodded his chin in a silent affirmation that he was awake as Captain Miller passed through the room once more, this time on his way to the kitchen.

  “S’up?” Noah met the captain’s dark gaze.

  “Now that I think about it, aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

  “Tomorrow,” he confirmed. If a seven-night cruise with his stepsister and her friends could be considered a vacation, then yes. Personally, Noah saw it as more of a favor, with the bonus of an all-expense-paid boat ride attached. The week following would be vacation.

  Since the day Milly had told her father about the trip, Larry Holcomb had been worried that his sweet baby girl—Noah knew Milly, she was mischievous and lighthearted, but sweet? Nah, he couldn’t see it—was going off into the great unknown without a chaperone. Didn’t seem to matter that Milly was thirty-one years old and had been on her own since she’d graduated from college at twenty-one. Larry was definitely a little overprotective of his daughter, at least from what Noah saw.
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br />   He still remembered the night he’d been roped into going. He and Milly had been having dinner with the parents while she filled everyone in on the upcoming trip. Out of the blue, Milly had mentioned it would be nice if Noah went with her, that it would make her feel more at ease. An unabashed manipulation if he’d ever heard one.

  Of course, Larry had thought that Noah going along with her, to keep an eye on his baby girl since it was clear her best friend would be otherwise occupied getting married, was a brilliant idea. He had even offered to pay for the trip. Noah remembered the way Milly’s eyes had widened, her smile radiant as she’d pleaded with him to say yes. And because she’d asked so nicely, he hadn’t been able to tell her no. So, rather than work, Noah was being forced to relax.

  His phone chimed and he fished it out of his pocket.

  Speak of the devil.

  The text read: Please tell me you’re not planning on backing out on me.

  He wondered how many times she’d said that in the past two months. Eight? Nine? Twenty?

  Not planning on it. Flight leaves in the morning.

  Yay. Gonna need someone to drink with. Gannon’s a hot mess.

  Noah grinned as he typed, The guy’s getting married. What did you expect?

  Married. That was a word that sounded strange, even in his head. Not once in his life had Noah given serious consideration to settling down and getting married. Sure, he’d dated a few guys who had potential, but only once had he actually given it a fleeting thought—definitely not serious, though. Granted, at the time, he’d been young and stupid, so he’d done the only thing he’d known to do. He’d laughed off the idea of a happily ever after, effectively sending the only man he’d ever found himself in love with running for the hills.

  Noah tried his best not to think of that time in his life. He’d been barely twenty-three, and settling down hadn’t even crossed his mind. Sure, now, at thirty-eight, there had been a few times in the past couple of years that he’d wondered what it would be like. Perhaps it would be nice to come home to someone occasionally, rather than an empty apartment.