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Chapter One
“Visit Alexander? No way. No. Way. He was an arrogant prick to me back in the day.” Sage Cassidy shook her head, adamant, and refocused on her laptop screen. And yes, okay, she might still harbor some slight, unresolved feelings following his rejection.
“Prick? That’s a bit harsh. I know he can be stand-offish.” Chase stared at her with his over-observant lawyerly eyes. “Did he do something you didn’t tell me about?”
Where did she start? She raised her eyebrows in a challenge her brother couldn’t win. Chase had blind loyalty to his best mate. He couldn’t refute her, unless he knew something she didn’t.
Which was entirely possible, considering she hadn’t communicated with, let alone seen Alexander Barrett in fifteen years. “You mean, other than him treating me like crap since I turned twelve—teasing or ignoring me, then essentially ordering me to fuck off when I tried to hang out with you guys?”
Chase sat forward and propped his forearms on his knees. “Okay, fine. I get that he can be gruff, but he has a good heart.”
Ironically, Alexander’s gruffness turned her on, the idea of trying to win his affections…except he’d looked at her like she represented some defective female alien from another planet.
Sadly not surprising given she’d been a gawky rather than pretty teenager. So, massive fail. Her crush’s supposed good heart left long-lasting effects.
Not that he’d have any inkling about the impact he’d had on her love life, men, relationships. As a psychologist, working in the trauma field in Melbourne for years, she should really talk about her unresolved feelings in her supervision sessions but…avoidance continued to be her favorite coping—more accurately, non-coping—strategy. “I can’t see him. Sorry.”
“Sis, please…for me. He’s had a really rough time. He can’t return to the military, and he’s feeling lost, useless, helpless, when he’s used to fighting for his country. Being the tough guy. Invincible.” Chase focused his imploring eyes on her, his fingers fiddling with his platinum and sapphire cufflinks, the ones their now-deceased parents had given him as a graduation present.
How could she say no to that? She knew all about military-induced post-traumatic stress disorder. She’d specialized in it, worked with ex-service staff every day using eye movement desensitization and reprocessing—EMDR—therapy, combined with counseling. It constituted her bread and consistently warm, melting butter…when her intervention worked. And it didn’t always.
“Did you explain you’d be asking me to make contact?”
“Yeah.” He tugged at the sleeves of his expensive, immaculately pressed navy suit. Between that and the crisp white shirt, he looked fresh, like he’d just gotten dressed. He hadn’t, though. He’d been in court all morning. ‘Workaholic’ had become his middle name—dependable brother, workaholic, best friend.
“And he was fine with it?” She couldn’t believe Alexander had agreed.
“Totally. He refuses to speak to a stranger. He even refused to talk to me!” Chase slammed his hand to his chest. “That’s when I realized things were serious. I tried to get him to open up for hours and…nothing. He said he didn’t want to burden me, that what he’d seen had changed him permanently and the one steady thing was our friendship—something he didn’t want to jeopardize. I get that. Well, maybe not ‘get it’ exactly, but I can empathize.”
Chase adjusted his paisley tie. She’d never seen her brother so rattled. Normally he radiated confidence bordering on cockiness.
Sage nodded. She sensed he still had more to offload, more to say to attempt to get her onboard. And he excelled at arguing, debating.
“I convinced him to speak to someone, and he agreed, under one condition. It had to be a person he felt comfortable with, but no one too close. I thought of you straight away. Plus, given your specialty…”
Disappointment stabbed at her heart. Bloody, unresolved emotional crap. It wasn’t like Alexander had ever shown a hint of interest in her romantically, even though she’d wished he’d finally see her—the real her, her as a grown, self-assured, desirable woman, not Chase’s awkward, bothersome sister.
Instead, he’d demonstrated the exact opposite—except that one night when they nearly kissed, right before he left for the military…after his farewell bonfire. They were alone, and she ran her hand over his newly close-shaved hair, assuring him he looked cool, tough, mean, and no one would want to mess with him.
He’d grabbed her wrist, the flames of lust in his eyes practically melting her panties. Things suddenly shot to super-heated, scorching.
Until they didn’t.
Like usual, he turned as frosty as a snowman in a blizzard and backed away.
For a split second, she could have sworn he’d been about to cross—no, obliterate—a boundary. It had to have been in her imagination. People often remembered past events in skewed, unrealistic, exaggerated ways, going by her dealings with clients and her own experience.
After the almost-kiss, she hadn’t seen or spoken with him. Years had passed, and she had no idea how he looked, who he even was anymore. She should feel neutral, relaxed, confident seeing him.
She didn’t.
If only rational thought overrode emotions.
Lingering feelings swirled around her heart. There had always been something about the infuriating man that sparked like kindling in her blood.
Sage swung her hair over her shoulder. Her resigned tell, according to her supervisor. “Fine. Give me his contact info, and I’ll arrange to drop by. But just so you know, I can listen and refer him on, but I can’t treat him. It goes against the Australian Psychological Society’s Code of Ethics.”
Her brother’s grin stretched over his face. She almost expected him to fist-pump the air, like he did when he told her about a winning case. Chase grabbed his mobile out of his trouser pocket and started text messaging.
