Fight to Forgive

By j. leigh bailey

Recent college grad Aaron Elliott is a pro when it comes to avoiding conflict. So when he hears his mother and stepfather plan to sell the family's rambling summer retreat, it takes everything in him to object. The lake house is where he feels closest to his late father. It's where he fell in love with his best friend…and it's where he let family pressure decide his future rather than following his heart.A combat injury has sailor James "Freddie" Fredrick dry-docked, possibly for good. But the pain in his shoulder is nothing like the hurt he feels when he sees Aaron back in town. It's been four years since the love of his life left without a word—and though Freddie would give anything to deny it, the heat between them hasn't faded.Once upon a time, Aaron let Freddie go without a fight. He won't screw up their second chance to have a happy ending. But unless he makes peace with the past, Freddie won't be able to face their future.Book three of Letting GoThis book is approximately 67,000 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Mar 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781459290310

Book preview

Chapter One

Freddie’s shoulder throbbed like a motherfucker, and his ribs weren’t too happy either. He strode down the airport corridor, weaving around slower-moving travelers. The past four hours on a plane—the final leg of his journey from his deployment in the Indian Ocean to Wisconsin—had left him stiff, exhausted and pissed. An amber bottle of heavy-duty pain pills rattled in his pocket, but the drugs left him loopy, and he wouldn’t let himself be so vulnerable around so many strangers.

A few people watched him from the corners of their eyes as he made the trip from the arrivals gate to the luggage carousel. It might have been the stark white US Navy uniform, or the sling keeping his arm immobile that drew their gaze. Either way, he refused to let his step falter, no matter how much he wanted to slouch, to hunch into the pain.

Jamie!

Freddie turned, forcing a smile he didn’t feel. His sister was one of the few people who used his first name. She waved and jogged toward him as fast as her pregnant belly would let her. Her husband Damon trailed behind her, a calm beacon in his sister’s storm. Nessa skidded to a halt seconds before she normally would have leapt into his arms. Her dark gaze landed on the navy-blue sling. I can’t believe you’re here. Don’t you ever scare me like that again. I’d hit you, but I’ll wait until you’re healed. I never want to get another phone call telling me you’ve been injured on a mission. Never again, do you hear me?

He barely managed to keep from flinching. Odds of him even returning to active duty were slim, but Nessa didn’t need to know that. Not yet, at least. He bent a little, ignoring the twinge in his ribs, to kiss her cheek. It’s good to see you. With his good right arm, he tapped her stomach. Wow, what happened here?

She arched a brow. Do I need to explain the birds and bees to you?

Leaving the state after high school had been the right thing to do, but God, he’d missed a lot since enlisting. The only time he’d seen his sister in the past four years had been for their father’s funeral the year before. Seeing her now, pregnant and beaming, brought a painful lump to his throat. He loved seeing Nessa again, but he’d give anything to be almost anywhere else.

Damon, good to see you, man. He tried to smile at Damon, reached out to shake his hand. He winced as the move pulled muscles across his chest. Nessa noticed.

Why are we standing around? You’re hurt. Let’s get your bag and get out of here.

She bustled over to the carousel where the luggage from his flight was starting to come through. He saw his green duffel bag and stepped forward. Nessa stopped him with a hand on his good arm. Let Damon get it.

He started to object, but Damon had already grabbed the bag. He didn’t have the strength to argue when Damon insisted on carrying it to their SUV in the parking garage. He did try to argue when Nessa insisted he take the front seat.

The back is too small for you, she insisted. You’ll be miserable stuck back there for two and a half hours.

You’re pregnant. It won’t be comfortable for you, either.

Jamie, I’m seven months pregnant. I’m not going to be comfortable no matter where I sit. But you’re going to want the extra room.

He gave in and climbed into the passenger seat. No one could win an argument with Nessa, especially when she was right. He bit back a groan when twisting to hook his seat belt increased his body’s throbbing a hundredfold. The trip from the Milwaukee airport to Door County was going to suck. Sideways. Don’t you have anything you can take for the pain? Nessa leaned forward between the seats.

Unfortunately, no prescription painkiller was going to make coming home to Door County, especially during the summer, feel any better. Some things were easier to ignore from thousands of miles away.

He needed to focus on his sister, one of the good sides to his return trip. Yeah, but I don’t like to take them. They make me stupid and sleepy.

Better sleepy than in pain.

Not really. With sleep came the dreams. The memories and panic. Maybe in a bit, he said. Get me caught up. Tell me what’s new.

Damon and Nessa’s eyes met in the rearview mirror. She bit her lip. Go on, Damon said, steering the SUV out of the parking garage.

We’re buying a house. She said it with a grin bright enough to blind him.

You’re moving? Don’t you already own a house?

Yeah, but this is different. We’re buying one of the big mansions and turning it into a B and B.

Yeah? His head was going a little fuzzy from pain and exhaustion, but he tried to sound pleased. And he was. Owning and running a B and B in the Door County resort area had been a dream of hers for years.

Yeah, but that’s not the best part.

What is?

We’re buying Elliot House. She practically squealed with excitement.

Freddie sucked in a breath, barely noticing the aches it caused.

I know. I was surprised, too. I mean, I always thought Aaron would open the place back up again after finishing school. But it went on the market a month ago, so I guess not.

I stopped assuming things about Aaron years ago, Freddie muttered. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the bastard’s abandoning the house on top of everything else.

Jamie! Nessa’s voice was sharp. That’s no way to talk about a friend.

Friend. Right. Friends didn’t ignore ten years of history and walk away without a backward glance. Friends didn’t make you fall in love with them, only to leave. They sure as hell didn’t fuck you one week, then run away the next. Aaron hadn’t even had the balls to tell Freddie to his face. No, he’d left a note, some kind of fucked-up Dear John letter, before taking off.

Freddie had joined the navy in part to avoid coming face-to-face with his ex-best friend, but he wasn’t going to discuss that with his sister. I’m thrilled for you. It’s the perfect place for your B and B.

I’m so excited. You’re here, Damon and I are having a baby, and we’re going to build my bed-and-breakfast. This is going to be the best summer ever. She sat back in the seat and started outlining her plans for Elliot House and her B and B.

He shifted, and the pressure of the seat belt made his shoulder burn. Arcs of pain sizzled like acid through his nerves, shot through his left shoulder, down to his wrist. He rubbed his arm. The navy had referred him to a specialist in Green Bay associated with the VA hospital. A neurologist. Seemed like nerve damage was a possibility, but they couldn’t confirm or deny it until the swelling went down and the proper tests could be run.

He tensed every time Damon pressed the brakes. The stiffer he sat, the more the ache centered in his shoulder grew, until it felt like his whole upper body was being crushed from the outside and burned from the inside.

They’d left the city roads and traffic behind, and were about halfway to their house in Bailey’s Harbor, on the lakeside of the Door County peninsula. Long stretches of farmland broken up by patches of tall trees surrounded them when a deer darted out in front of the SUV.

Damon cursed and slammed on the brakes. Freddie bit back a howl of pain. Black and red spots swam across his vision even as he braced his good arm against the dash. He held his breath, waiting—hoping—for the throbbing to ease. He barely noticed when Damon pulled the vehicle to the side of the road, slamming it into Park. Nessa touched his good shoulder and he flinched. The movement allowed him to breathe, though shallowly. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force his body to relax.

Are you okay? Nessa asked. What a stupid question. Of course you’re not okay. What do you need? What can I do?

I’m fine, he managed to say through gritted teeth.

She snorted, but raised her hand to stroke the back of his neck in a calming gesture she’d used when he was little. Where are your pain pills? You’re taking one, even if I have to force it down your throat like I have to do with the cat. If I can get Oliver to take a pill, you’ll be child’s play.

Fine. As soon as we can stop somewhere to get something to drink. The pills are huge. No way they’re going down dry. He hurt so much he was almost willing to chew the pills if it would make the pain stop. Screw the bitter taste and loopy brain.

She rummaged around behind him before passing a bottle of water to the front. I’ve got you covered.

Damon grabbed it, opening the top and setting it in the cup holder in the console.

Freddie dug into his pocket and pulled out the bottle. He tried holding it between his knees so he could open the bottle one-handed. Even that small effort, which proved useless, only managed to increase the ache in his chest and shoulders.

Damon grabbed the bottle and popped the top off. After a quick glance at the label, he dumped two of the huge pills into his hand and gave them to Freddie.

He didn’t waste any time in swallowing them. He leaned back in his seat, trying again to relax, until something cool touched his arm. Nessa held out a banana.

Do you have your entire kitchen in your bag or something?

I’m pregnant. I’m prepared. You need to eat something, though, or the pills are going to make you sick.

Since he knew she was right, he took the banana and ate it. He’d barely finished the fruit when his eyes started to droop.

Nessa might think this was going to be the best summer ever, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. He had a career, one he was proud of and good at, to get back to. He was going to do whatever needed to be done to heal as fast as possible and head back to sea. And, he thought as sleep tried to drag him under, he was going to do his damnedest to avoid thinking about Aaron while he was there.

Enlisting with the navy had been a spontaneous act at a time when his only goal had been to get out, get away from the pain of losing Aaron. Looking back, his reasons for joining had been stupid, but it hadn’t taken long for him to realize it had been the right decision. He belonged in the uniform, excelled at his job. He’d been doing something important. Now that he’d finally found his place, his purpose, the thought of losing it terrified him. If the navy didn’t want him back, it would destroy him as surely as Aaron’s desertion four years ago had. He wasn’t sure he could come back from that kind of rejection a second time.

Chapter Two

I think I’m going to spend the summer at the Door County house. Aaron tried to sound casual. He sipped from his glass of orange juice and ignored the bitter taste. It wasn’t the juice that tasted sour; it was his fear. But the others at the brunch table didn’t need to know about the nausea roiling through his gut, or the fact that it had taken him two full days to work up the nerve to bring up the house.

His mother paused, her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth. Why would you do that? Her eyes, the same navy blue as his, darted to her husband.

Bile crept up the back of his throat. He’d always been extra sensitive to confrontations, and ones involving his family were the worst. Which was why, even at twenty-two years old, it had taken two days to psych himself into mentioning Elliot House.

Mark McIntyre set his newspaper aside. After a long pause, Aaron’s stepfather said, I thought we’d agreed you were going to work at McIntyre Marketing as soon as you graduated.

He tucked his hands under the table, gripping the napkin like a lifeline and tried to keep his face expressionless. No, that was what his mother and Mark wanted. Aaron had never agreed. Of course, he hadn’t exactly told them no, letting the discussion go with a It’s something to think about. One more confrontation he’d put off.

Well, actually, he said, licking dry lips, I was thinking, or planning, really, to continue on to grad school. That’s weak, Aaron. As a student of language and the written word—his English degree had to be good for something—he knew word choice was important, and still he hedged and stuttered, practically requesting permission rather than making a declaration. He was already enrolled in the program. He should have been able to come out and say it. But he had only enough courage to tackle one argument today, and Elliot House was more important. At least for now.

His stepsister looked up from her cell phone. Why on earth would you want to do that? Only a year older than Aaron, Brianna had managed to get through two years of college before deciding to focus her time and attention on her real goal—acquiring a wealthy, attractive husband. The gigantic diamond sitting on her left hand was the equivalent of her personal diploma.

Mark considered for a moment. An MBA certainly wouldn’t hurt. University of Chicago has a fantastic MBA Marketing program. One of our VPs went there and would be happy to put in a good word. He pulled out his phone to make a note. I’ll give him a call tomorrow.

If he were looking for a compromise, an MBA program might work. He could stay in school for a couple more years, give himself a little more time to decide the best path for his future. One with better job security and probably a higher salary. While he hoped his future lay in the field of medieval romantic literature, and not in creating ad copy or promotional campaigns, it wasn’t a horrible option. Aaron took a deep breath. He couldn’t let himself get distracted.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the old house. Someone should probably go and make sure the place hasn’t sunk into Lake Michigan.

His mother waved that aside. We’ve hired local people to stop by periodically. The place is in great shape, or so they assure me. There’s no reason for you to waste your time.

She’d never felt the same way about it as Aaron and his father had. After his father died, Aaron had used the place, and especially the collection of valuable books, as a reminder of his father. It had been four years since he’d last set foot on the Wisconsin property, but he had vivid memories of hot summers, long boat rides on Lake Michigan, and time spent secluded in the big library with his father. And of Freddie. Always Freddie.

I was thinking I could go up and catalog Dad’s collection. Some of those old books might be worth a lot of money.

Really, Aaron. You should stay in the city. We can hire someone to catalog those musty old books. I swear, sometimes you are just like your father. She didn’t say it as if it were a good thing.

He ground his teeth together. She’d had certain expectations when marrying into the Elliot clan. She hadn’t realized until it was too late that Theo Elliot lacked the Elliot family’s business sense, preferring to spend his time in a library instead of a boardroom. He’d become an expert in antique books, but was, at best, a mediocre businessman.

I don’t think it’s a good idea, Mark said, pushing his half-full plate away from him. No, I think it’s best you stay here this summer. I’ve got a spot lined up for you at McIntyre Marketing.

Funny how none of his mother’s or Mark’s objections to him going to the summer house had anything to do with them putting it up for sale. No, they didn’t mention that.

Aaron took a bite of cold scrambled eggs, stalling. His mom nodded as though everything had been decided. Time to speak up or forever hold his peace.

I appreciate the job offer, Mark. But I’ve already decided. I’m heading to Elliot House after graduation next Saturday. And because standing up for himself didn’t sit well, he quickly added, I’ll focus on next steps— either the job at McIntyre Marketing or grad school —at the end of the summer.

Mouth pursed, his mother slapped her hand, fisted around her napkin, onto the table. This is ridiculous. You aren’t going to Wisconsin and that’s final. I don’t know what put this idea into your head, but I’ve had enough. Now I don’t want to hear any more about it.

He took a deep breath. It was now or never. I spoke with Neil Fleishman the other day.

His mother’s eyes darted to Mark again, before she dabbed at her mouth with the crumpled napkin. What does he have to do with anything?

Neil Fleishman was Aaron’s father’s best friend and lawyer. Aaron hadn’t seen the man since his father’s funeral. Then two days ago, Mr. Fleishman had shown up with information Aaron still couldn’t quite wrap his head around. He told me Dad left Elliot House to me.

His mom stilled and narrowed her eyes at him. You were only fourteen when Theo died. Too young to own a house.

Which is why it was left in trust until I turned twenty-one. He kept his voice even, almost dispassionate, even as the betrayal and anger he’d been struggling with since Mr. Fleishman’s visit surged inside him.

His mom didn’t say anything.

I’m twenty-two.

Brianna watched him with a slight smirk. She enjoyed drama and conflict as much as he hated them.

Mark folded his hands and plastered on a reassuring look he’d probably perfected in his years of schmoozing and spin-doctoring. Aaron, I don’t know what Mr. Fleishman told you, but I’m sure you must have misunderstood. Your mother inherited everything after your father’s death.

Aaron wondered if he actually believed that or if he was in on the scheme.

I don’t understand why you’re upset. His mother set the napkin in front of her, smoothing out the creases. It’s been years since you’ve been back. I didn’t think you had any interest in the place. Goodness knows I was relieved when you stopped wanting to go up there each summer.

It was time for the second bombshell. So you decided to sell it?

That was the part he had the hardest time accepting. Not so much that his father had wanted him to have the property, but that his mother hid it from him and, on top of that, was trying to sell it.

I see no need to continue maintaining a property no one uses. She angled her head up a notch, arrogance in every line of her face.

Brianna leaned forward. If the place belongs to Aaron, how can you sell it?

It was the same question he’d asked Mr. Fleishman. Legal loophole was how the lawyer had put it. He wondered what his mom would say.

Theo may have wanted Aaron to have the place eventually, his mom told Brianna—not him, but Wisconsin has a special filing requirement for non-residents who inherit properties in Wisconsin. The legal provisions for it were not properly filed before your father died, so technically, the property belongs to me, and I choose to sell it.

"Technically? Aaron surged to his feet, heart beating like he was running a race. You’re denying Dad’s final wishes based on a technicality? Didn’t he—don’t I—mean more to you than that?"

Watch your tone with me, Aaron Michael Elliot. You’ve shown no interest in the place in four years. I wouldn’t have thought you’d care about it one way or the other.

Seething, he lowered himself to his chair. That frigid tone used to be enough to send him scurrying from the room. He no longer ran, but the instinct was there. She’d never been violent or abusive, but she’d been able to freeze him with a word.

No, he hadn’t said anything about Elliot House in four years. No, he hadn’t

Reviews for Fight to Forgive

[F · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Every conflict has two sides - one person can't be blamed for everything. Got annoyed by unsubtle criticism of avoidant behaviours while agreessive and pushy are okay, apparently ( ironically, running away to navy is not fighting for answers and relationship either) Besides that, diversity of problems and characters were quite interesting, even if stilted.

[crtsjffrsn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

After suffering a combat injury, James "Freddie" Fredrick has returned to a place he doesn't want to spend much time: home. There were many reasons he joined the Navy and left four years before. It's not something he wants to talk about with anyone and he never has. But when his sister picks him up from the airport and tells him she's buying Elliott House, it seems he just can't get away. Aaron Elliott is right back at the front and center of his life. Aaron who selfishly left him without a word four years ago. And things get even more complicated when he learns Aaron is back in town.
Aaron Elliott has avoided conflict all his life. If he can get through something without making waves, he will. But when he learned his mother and stepfather were planning to sell his father's house, he knew he had to speak up. Aaron's father left that house to him, and though a legal technicality has put his ownership in question, Aaron believes his father's wishes should be carried out. So he halts the sale and decides to spend a summer at Elliott House. He just doesn't expect to run into Freddie. The feelings come rushing back, but Aaron tells himself he has to let them go. After all, Freddie destroyed anything the two of them could have had four years ago.

As the two live in proximity again, their past eventually becomes a big enough elephant in the room that it can't be avoided. Though both are committed to never going back down that road, can their collective willpower hold out? And what exactly is the truth of their breakup? Is it possible all could be forgiven?

I've been a fan of this series of stories by j. leigh bailey since the first one. The stories they tell are so rich and dynamic, I always have a hard time putting the books down. And the story of these two is certainly no exception. The value of communication and trust is clear in how this story plays out. And it reminds us that it's also so important to meet another person where they are. You can't hold someone to expectations that are outside of their nature--especially if you never communicate those expectations to them.

Strong recommendation on this one!

[Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.]