by Brenda Novak
“Maybe! I would like to have been given the choice!”
She sighed. “My father would never have allowed it. He would’ve made our lives miserable. So what then? We marry in spite of him and move away from Millcreek? Leave your family and the cattle ranch you’ll eventually inherit? I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to find a place to stay or work. I didn’t want to drag you down that path with me. Your life is here. I knew that even then.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for making the decision for both of us. I can only imagine your surprise when leaving turned out so well for you.”
“Meaning...”
“You had to have made a lot of money, lived quite a life in the big city. Far better than I could ever have provided. And to think I was so worried about you in those first months. Good to know you didn’t need me.”
She curved her nails into her palms. “It’s not that I didn’t need you, Micah. I caught a lucky break, made a good friend who opened a lot of doors. That’s what turned everything around for me. If not for Clyde, I could still be a struggling waitress.”
“Clyde? That’s his name?”
“The name of my modeling agent, yes. My late agent.”
A muscle moved in his cheek. “So that’s why you’re back. The man you were with is gone.”
“I wasn’t with him in that sense. I didn’t leave you for another man, if that’s what you’re thinking. Clyde isn’t the reason I stayed away, either.”
Their gazes locked for several seconds. She wished she could read his inscrutable expression, wished she could get some idea of what was going on behind those blue eyes, but his face remained shuttered as he lifted the paper he held in one hand. “Trevor needs this, or he won’t be able to go on the field trip with the rest of his class on Monday. I’d better get it over to the school.”
She stepped aside so he could get around her, but he stopped when they were only inches apart, making her so self-conscious about her state of undress she pulled the V closed at the top of her robe.
“You really screwed up my life,” he said as he stared down at her. “I just want you to know that.”
So many things went through her mind, including the fact that she’d been trying not to screw up his life. She’d wanted to leave him untouched. He was the homecoming king, the starting quarterback, the cherished youngest son of honest, hardworking parents. He belonged here. She had little doubt he’d live his whole life in Millcreek, hadn’t wanted to drag him down with her.
But of all the retorts that flew through her brain, only one came to her lips. “I screwed up your life so much that you had a child with my best friend only a year later?”
She nearly gasped at her own words. Where had that come from? She’d been trying so hard not to be hurt by his defection, since everything that’d happened had been her own fault. But there it was...
His eyes flared wide with anger. He had plenty of stubble on his jaw and chin now, she realized. And he’d filled out. He’d always had broad shoulders, but the muscle he’d packed on in the past ten years made him look powerful.
“Don’t even go there,” he gritted out. “You don’t have the right.”
That was true, but he stalked out before she could admit it.
“Oh God,” she muttered when the door slammed, and she fell against the wall. She was shaking. His words had stabbed her like a thousand tiny darts, even more accusatory than she’d expected.
Living here was going to be worse than she’d thought, especially if she had to run into him.
That was why she couldn’t hang around Paige’s, contemplating the choices and sacrifices she’d made in the past, she told herself. She had houses to see and then some very important questions to answer. Only when she knew for sure what’d happened to her mother could she leave.
She pushed off the wall and went back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.
* * *
Micah sat in his patrol car, trying to let some of the adrenaline pumping through his body subside before starting the engine.
He couldn’t believe it. After ten years, there she was in the house he’d shared with Paige—in the house he could’ve shared with her if only she’d stuck around instead of running away without any warning.
Drawing a deep breath, he ran a hand over his face. Talk about getting sucker punched. Why hadn’t Paige told him that Sloane was in town? Why wasn’t anyone else talking about it? Nothing happened in Millcreek that didn’t immediately whip through the gossip circles. They had only seven thousand residents. So how had the return of such a famous model gone unremarked?
“Shit.” With a glance at his watch, he started his car. Trevor was waiting for him. He needed to get the permission slip over to the school before recess ended, but he called Paige with his Bluetooth while driving.
“Really? You weren’t going to tell me?” he said as soon as he heard her say, “Little Bae Bae Boutique.”
Silence.
“Paige?”
“I assume you’re talking about Sloane.”
“You’re damn right I’m talking about Sloane!”
“I thought you wouldn’t care either way. After all the times you swore to me that you weren’t in love with her anymore, I guess I decided to take you at your word.”
If that were true, it would be the first time she’d ever taken him at his word where Sloane was concerned. He’d tried so hard to love Paige, to convince himself and her that Sloane had nothing to do with his inability to fully embrace her and their marriage, but Paige had never believed it. She’d hounded him, poured on the guilt and played the martyr, always pressing him to say something that would make her feel secure. And he’d failed miserably, which was why he’d asked for the divorce. If he couldn’t fulfill Paige, and she couldn’t fulfill him, why stay?
He’d lasted eight years for Trevor’s sake, but as their son grew older, Trevor was becoming more and more aware of the emotional distance between his parents, mostly because Paige couldn’t accept the mild affection Micah had been able to offer. She craved the all-consuming passion he’d only ever felt for Sloane—she’d demanded it—and that set the bar too high. He’d felt nothing but inadequate when they’d been married, destined to let her down again.
“Why?” she said as he turned into the schoolyard. “How do you know she’s back? Did she call you?”
That underlying suspicion never went away. Paige had been convinced that he and Sloane were keeping in touch. She’d peppered him every so often with accusations that they were secretly communicating—or that he was cheating with someone else. She’d known he was locked in a situation where he couldn’t be happy.
“Trevor called me,” he said. “He forgot his permission slip for the field trip on Monday and asked me to bring it to school, so I swung by the house to get it.”
“Why didn’t he call me?”
“Because he knows you’re at the shop, that you can’t leave it unmanned during business hours and that you’d probably just ask me to do it, anyway.”
“I need to get the locks changed on the house,” she grumbled.
He stiffened at her response. She’d had a whole year to do that. She hadn’t bothered because she was confident he’d never abuse the privilege of having easy access to her home and their son. If she started dating someone, that could change. But for now, she was hoping he’d come back even if it was only to satisfy them both sexually. She’d hinted that she’d be open to letting him stop in after Trevor was in bed; he’d been the one to decide that using each other would only cause them both more pain. “If that’s what you feel you need to do,” he said.
“That’s what most divorced wives would do.”
Which, again, proved that she was somehow more generous than other exes. Almost everything she said was geared toward making him regret leaving her. “Then most divorced wives wouldn’t be able to rely on me
to run this errand, right?”
“If you hadn’t had a key, you couldn’t have been caught off guard by finding Sloane at the house.”
He pulled into a parking stall and jammed the transmission into Park. “If only you’d said something, we could’ve avoided that, too.”
She seemed stymied that he hadn’t asked her not to change the locks. But he hated to be manipulated, honestly didn’t care what she did so long as she didn’t try to bar him from being part of his son’s life.
“So...what do you think?” she asked at length.
“What do I think?”
“Was it difficult to see Sloane again?”
Not unless Paige categorized having all the pain Sloane had caused his boyish heart ten years ago rush upon him all at once as “difficult.”
“Don’t start probing, Paige. We’re divorced. I won’t put up with you continuing to badger me about Sloane.”
“I was just curious if you felt as over her as you’ve always claimed you were.”
He’d only claimed he was over her to try to make Paige happy. What good would it do to tell the woman who’d become his wife that he’d only married her because she was pregnant?
He turned off his car. “I’m at the school. I’ll talk to you later.”
“You could join us for dinner tonight, if you like.”
The taunt in her voice made him grit his teeth. “I’m hanging up,” he said and disconnected.
He wasn’t going anywhere near Sloane McBride.
* * *
The house Sloane decided to rent was far too big for one person. It was also in the exact area she’d been planning to avoid—near a lovely bend in the Brazos River but within a quarter mile of her father’s home. As soon as Leigh Coleman, the leasing agent she’d called off the internet, showed her through, she’d known she should take it. By returning to this exclusive and tight-knit community and becoming a member of it in her own right, she’d be able to relate to the neighbors in a different way, would have a certain amount of credibility she wouldn’t have otherwise. Hopefully, that would make them more willing to talk when she asked about her mother. Driving over from somewhere else in town in order to go door to door wouldn’t be well received, especially given the amount of power her father wielded in this town.
“I’m so happy you like the house.” Leigh shook Sloane’s hand in the foyer of her new place just before they both walked out into the bright sunshine. “As soon as I run your credit, I’ll email you the paperwork.” She took two steps, then turned back. “It’s such an honor to meet you, by the way. I’ve heard about you, of course. You’re the mayor’s famous daughter, Millcreek’s own celebrity.”
Sloane was also the black sheep of the mayor’s family, but Leigh wasn’t insensitive enough to mention that.
“I’ve seen you on the cover of Vogue,” she continued. “I usually only buy magazines that have to do with houses and interior design, but I think everyone in town ran out and bought that issue. It must’ve been exciting to do that photo shoot.”
It would’ve been more exciting if being a model had been her lifelong dream, but she’d always wanted to paint—something that was even harder to make a living at and nothing her father had respected or supported, for exactly that reason. “It was. Thank you.”
“Are you finished with modeling?” she asked. “Or are you just taking a break?”
“I haven’t completely decided.”
“Well, we’re excited to have you back either way. I didn’t live in Millcreek before, when you did. I moved here only five years ago. But I’ve heard about you all the same.”
“Thank you.”
After Leigh left, Sloane pivoted on the stoop to stare up at the imposing brick structure, which had been painted a nice ecru. She liked the ivy scaling the walls and the many arches that’d been used in the architecture. Somehow this place reminded her of an estate in England. But what was she going to do with six bedrooms? She’d also have a study, a library, a drawing room—as if anyone even used those anymore—a family room, almost as many bathrooms as bedrooms, a gym and a massive family room and kitchen area with a wall of windows that looked out on a gorgeous garden. In the back, she’d have a guesthouse and a barn, which was, thankfully, empty. She’d had a horse growing up, and a dog, but she didn’t want to worry about taking care of any pets while she was in Millcreek. She was going to remain as unfettered and ready to leave as possible.
Maybe she’d move into the guesthouse instead of the main house, she thought. It would be big enough for her. But if she was going to pay to live in such luxury, she might as well enjoy it. She’d end up rambling around, feeling out of place, but she was grateful she could afford something like this, something her father would respect. It was well beyond anything he would’ve expected her to be capable of getting, even as a rental, at only twenty-eight years old.
“I can only do it because of you,” she told Clyde. She couldn’t help thinking of him; wishing he were still alive.
She wandered around a bit more to be sure she’d made the right choice, and decided that, yes, this home was her best play, even if it meant she might have to pass her father on occasion.
She needed to call him, let him know she was in town. It was the polite thing to do, what any daughter should do. He hadn’t physically abused her, hadn’t neglected her, either. The damage he’d inflicted had been far subtler than that.
Still, she decided to put off making that call until tomorrow, when she hoped to feel more capable of handling his response, should it get ugly. Thanks to the number of hours she’d tossed and turned last night, she was exhausted.
She was just climbing into the Jag when her cell phone rang. She dug it out of her purse right away, in case the leasing agent had remembered something she’d meant to say or was suddenly going to change her mind, the way Guy Prinley had done. Sloane didn’t care to lose a second house, didn’t want to be forced to continue her search tomorrow.
She sighed in relief when she saw that it wasn’t Leigh. It was Paige.
“Hello?” Sloane checked the clock on her dashboard and held the phone with her shoulder so she could buckle her seat belt. She still had to pick up the wine and dessert she’d insisted on contributing to dinner. Since Paige had cooked last night, she’d offered to be responsible for their meal tonight. She’d known she wouldn’t have much time but figured there had to be some good takeout she could get. She’d once loved the Texas BBQ place that sat on the corner of Brazos Boulevard and Third. But Paige had refused the offer. She’d said she was a mother, that she had to cook every night regardless, and it was no trouble to feed one extra person.
“Hey, how’s your day?” Paige asked.
Sloane tilted her head to be able to see her new house through the windshield. “Good, so far. I think I’ve found a place.”
“Where?”
“In the River Bottoms.”
There was a slight hesitation. “That’s a little different than the place you chose before.”
She situated her purse in the passenger’s seat. “No joke. It’s a lot less secluded and a lot more pricey.”
“Not to mention super close to your dad.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” Sloane started to back out of the drive. “There isn’t a lot available. I can’t believe Guy Prinley bailed on me. That was so unethical.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I was curious as to why he would suddenly back out of the deal, so I did some checking.”
“And?”
“His wife works at city hall.”
Sloane stomped on the brake. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No. One of my customers belongs to her church. Pamela Prinley is the deputy city clerk.”
“Wow. That means he probably told her not to rent me the house.”
“That’s my take, too.”
Sloane let the engine idle while resting her head on the seat. Great. Her father knew she was coming back. But did he know she was already here? “It’s nice to feel welcome.”
“If he had any idea you might rent a place closer to him, I bet he wouldn’t have sabotaged you,” Paige said with a laugh.
Sloane finished backing into the street. “Exactly. He might live to regret it.”
Just having her close wouldn’t be the worst of it. Not for him. Her father was going to hate having her back if she found proof of what she suspected.
And she was certainly going to look.
“Do you need me to pick up anything else for dinner?” Sloane asked.
“No. I’ve got what I need.”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few.” Sloane tossed her phone in her purse as soon as she disconnected. After running into Micah this morning, she was hesitant to spend another evening with Paige. The hard look on her ex-boyfriend’s face, the steel beneath his words, the anger and distrust she’d felt rolling off him hadn’t left her. She’d been carrying that negative energy around ever since he appeared at the house, didn’t feel capable of pretending that encounter hadn’t knocked her on her ass should Paige ask about it.
“I’ll have my own house soon,” she muttered. She needed a private and safe place to go when she could no longer subdue her emotions. But if her father learned she was renting a home so close to his, he could try to block her again, and he might easily succeed. It seemed like he always got his way these days. If anything, he’d gained more power since she’d been gone.
She could only hope he’d never expect her to be bold enough to choose his own neighborhood. That she’d first tried to rent the Woods bungalow might help her in that regard, might make him think she was looking for something much smaller and on the other side of town.
She was making her way out of the neighborhood when she passed the street leading to his house and suddenly stopped, right in the middle of the road.
CHAPTER FOUR