by Devney Perry
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“I was walking to Genevieve’s to get the Jeep.”
He scowled as he pulled away from the curb. “That’s miles.”
“I needed some air.”
There was no way I’d tell Emmett about Shaw. No one knew about my fling with the movie star, not even Genevieve or Bryce.
When Shaw and I had started our tryst, I’d been scared about how everyone would react given the movie and his short-term outlook on Montana. As my feelings for Shaw had changed, grown, I’d been scared to slap us with a label, mostly because location hookup sounded so . . . cheap.
I’d almost told them when that picture of Shaw and me on his bike had come out, but then it had turned into nothing. Why? Because Presley Marks wasn’t news. I was a nobody. If that photo’d had Dacia French in my place, it would have gone viral.
When Shaw had left, I’d been grateful for my foresight not to tell anyone. It meant that I could wallow in heartbreak alone without worried glances or pitiful hugs. Since we were over, there was no point in dragging Emmett into the mess.
Shaw would be gone soon, lost to California for good.
“Want a coffee?” Emmett asked, already slowing for the parking lot of the country and feed supply store. There was a coffee hut in one corner of the lot. Emmett rolled down his window, leaning out, as the barista opened her sliding window.
The blonde’s cheeks flushed when she saw Emmett. Her tongue darted out and licked her lower lip. “Oh, hey. Again. Did you, um . . . forget something at my place last night?”
I rolled my eyes and leaned forward. “Could I get a vanilla chai with skim milk, please?”
Her eyes flashed to me and her smile flattened. “Sure. Emmett?”
“Triple mocha.”
“Give me a minute.” She nodded and slid her window closed.
“The barista?” I shot Emmett a look. “She’s probably going to spit in my coffee.”
“Nah. She’s nice.”
“Have you even been home since last night?”
He chuckled. “Not yet.”
“Do you remember her name?”
“Yeah. Of course. It’s, uh . . . Carrie.”
“Carleigh, according to her nametag.”
“Damn. Carleigh.”
I shook my head. “You’re horrible.”
“The women love me. What can I say?”
“The women?” I teased. “Do you hear yourself?”
He laughed, digging a twenty from his wallet.
Emmett wasn’t wrong. Women did love him. They loved his bad-boy look with his beefy, tattooed arms and the shoulder-length brown hair that he was constantly tying up or brushing out of his face. He wasn’t as quick to laugh or flirt like Leo, but Emmett had a smolder that drove the women crazy.
Would he ever settle down? Would he find a woman who caught his attention for more than one night? I hoped so. What I wanted most for the people in my life was that they found love, even if it seemed to elude me.
Emmett paid for our coffees and winked goodbye to Carleigh, then he pulled away and aimed the truck toward Isaiah’s neighborhood. “So why’d you leave your Jeep at Genevieve’s?”
“I went over yesterday to see the baby and spend some time with them. Luke came over too and we went to a movie. He drove me home.”
“How’s that going, you and Luke?”
I sighed. “Great.”
“Doesn’t sound great.”
“No, it is. He’s a really good man, and I like him a lot.”
“But . . .”
“There’s no but.”
“Pres.” Emmett shot me a look. “Who are you talking to?”
“You,” I muttered. “Why couldn’t Leo have been the one to find me? He doesn’t ask as many questions.”
“Not today. What’s wrong? Why are you stomping across Clifton Forge like you’re on a mission to show Jack Frost he isn’t going to get the best of you?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Does it have anything to do with a certain movie star? The one you were seen riding on the back of a bike with?”
My mouth dropped. “You knew?”
“Please.” He scoffed. “You might be good at hiding your emotions from some people, but you’ve never been good at fooling me.”
This was true. Whenever I was sad and forcing happy, there were two men who saw past the brave face: Draven and Emmett. Draven would badger me until I talked, ripping the truth from my lips. But not Emmett. He’d pull me into one of his bear hugs and not let go until some of the pain had seeped away.
“We were . . . well, I don’t know what we were. Something.” Something special.
“Has he been in touch since he left?”
“No. He came back last night.”
He looked over, taking a drink of his mocha. “What happened last night?”
“I’m pretty sure he moved here.”
Emmett choked. “No shit?”
“When Shaw was here for the movie, he bought the house next door to mine. Not because it was the house next door, it was just a coincidence. During the movie, that was where he stayed. We started talking and things happened.”
Then he’d crushed me, something I wouldn’t tell Emmett because it would mean a U-turn and an awkward—likely violent—confrontation on my street.
“Shaw left,” I said. “Now he’s back.”
“You still have feelings for him?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “I don’t know how I feel. And the truth is, I don’t trust my judgment.”
“Pres.” Emmett reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. “What happened with Jeremiah—”
“Was my fault.”
“I was at the wedding, babe. Didn’t seem like your fault.”
“No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have stayed with him in the first place.”
“You loved him.”
“Maybe,” I muttered. Maybe not. I didn’t have the energy to delve any deeper this morning. Because of Shaw, I’d barely slept. And we were nearly to Isaiah’s. “New subject, please. How is your mom?”
Emmett shot me a look, one that said he wasn’t leaving this alone, but answered, “She’s good. I’m going over there later.”
“Please, for her sake, shower first. You still smell like The Betsy.”
“I’ll shower.” He grinned as he turned down Genevieve and Isaiah’s block.
When he parked behind my Jeep, I unbuckled and gave him a smile. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“Always. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye.” I raised my coffee mug in a silent thanks and climbed out of the truck, juggling my drink and my gloves as I dug keys from my coat pocket.
I got in my Jeep, shivering as I hit the ignition and cranked up the heat. My gaze zeroed in on Luke’s house as I drove down the sleepy street. His truck wasn’t in the driveway where he normally parked—his garage was reserved for his boat—and the lights were off.
Should I tell him about Shaw? Should I pretend it was no big deal that he was in town?
Guilt had clawed its way into my heart last night as I’d lain restlessly in bed. I’d spent the midnight hours thinking of Shaw, not the man I was actually dating. It wasn’t like I’d done anything wrong. I’d gone into Shaw’s home and listened to him speak. I’d answered a phone call. So why did I feel like I’d betrayed Luke?
The last place I wanted to go was home, where Shaw would be waiting. The stubborn ass wasn’t going to leave me alone. So I steered my Jeep to a place in Clifton Forge I had never been.
The police station.
“Hi,” I said, greeting the officer stationed inside the front door. He sat behind a glass partition so I leaned in and spoke to the metal speaker between us. “I was wondering if I could see Luke—uh, Chief Rosen.”
“I’ll check to see if he’s available.” He collected my driver’s license and scanned a copy. Then he pointed to a row of chairs along the wall.
&
nbsp; Less than a minute later, Luke came through an interior door. “Presley?”
“Hey.” I smiled, hurrying toward him. “Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say hi.”
“Hi.” He grinned and dropped a kiss on my cheek. “Come on in.”
Luke took my hand and led me through the station, past rows of desks and empty chairs to a door embossed with Chief of Police in gold letters. He held it for me, closing it behind us.
His stately chair sat on the other side of the desk, but instead of sitting there, Luke held out one of the guest chairs for me, then sat at my side.
Because that’s who he was. He was the guy who sat beside the woman he was dating, even in his own office. The guy who brought his neighbor yellow flowers twice after she’d had a baby. The guy who’d been patiently waiting for me to be ready to do more than kiss for a month.
“How did it go last night?” I asked.
“What a cluster.” He groaned, running a hand over his square jaw. He had more stubble this morning than normal and he was even more handsome this way, a little rough around the edges.
I put my hand over his, rubbing my thumb across his knuckles. “You look tired.”
“It was a long night.”
“Anything I can do?”
“No.” He gave me a smile. “I’m finishing up some paperwork and then I’m going home to take a nap.”
“If you want to reschedule tonight, we can—”
“Never.”
I smiled, despite the anxious knot forming in my stomach. I wanted this. I wanted to be with Luke. So why was I dreading tonight? Why was I hoping for any reason to delay a day or two?
Shaw.
Damn him. He didn’t get to show up here and ruin everything I had going for me. Luke and I were new, but there might be a future here. A real future, not some Hollywood fantasy.
“Six o’clock?” I asked, doing my best to hide the nerves in my voice. “I’ll make dinner.”
“Sure.”
“How do you feel about frozen lasagna?”
He laughed. “Seems fitting.”
“Then I’ll get out of here so you can finish.” We both stood and I raised onto my toes to brush a kiss to his lips.
He deepened it, slanting his mouth over mine.
A tingle ran down my spine and my heart thumped. It didn’t burst into a wild sprint, but the thump was good. The thump meant we had the promise of passion.
Luke broke away and grinned. “I’ll escort you out.”
“Thanks.” I followed him to the door, letting him kiss my cheek once more before I braved the cold and scurried to my Jeep. Then I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon avoiding my home.
I went to the grocery store, wandering up and down every aisle. I stopped at my favorite sandwich place for lunch. I gassed up my Jeep and went to get some cash from the bank because for a woman who didn’t use cash, having some in her wallet suddenly seemed important. I drove by the garage to see if Leo or Dash had randomly decided to work on a Sunday—it was deserted.
Finally, when it couldn’t be avoided any longer, I drove home.
Shaw’s white truck was in his driveway, and I cursed myself for missing it last night. I’d been too anxious about inviting Luke to spend the night, and I’d trained myself for months not to look at that yellow house.
As I parked, I kept one eye on Shaw’s. There was movement at the living room window.
Ugh.
I really wished I had a garage to park inside, but only two of the homes on this street had them. The homes on the cul-de-sac had all been built before garages were a must-have.
Maybe it was time to move.
The apartment above the garage had been empty for years. The last people who’d lived there were Genevieve and Isaiah.
If Shaw wouldn’t accept we were over and stayed in Montana for more than two weeks, I was moving. Decision made.
I parked and sent up a muted prayer that I could haul my groceries inside in one trip.
My arms were overloaded with bags when I felt the crackle of his presence behind me. Shaw’s spicy scent drifted across the cold air. How had he managed to sneak up on me? The rustle of my bags and thundering, panicked heartbeat must have drowned out the crunch of his footsteps on the snow.
“Let me help.” He moved to my side and started taking bags off my wrists.
The heat of his shoulder hit mine and I sidestepped away. “I can do it.”
“We’ve been here before. Let’s skip to the end where we both know I’ll help carry these inside.” He grinned at me, daring me to argue.
Stubborn, arrogant ass. He was not going to leave me alone and I didn’t want a standoff in freezing temperatures.
“Fine,” I muttered, shoving five bags into his gut.
“Was that so hard?”
I shot him a glare and marched inside. The minute my grocery bags were on the counter, I gave him a tight smile and pointed to the exit. “Thanks for your help.”
He chuckled and strode out of the kitchen to the living room, his gait full of grace and sin.
I forced my eyes away from his long legs and thick thighs, not letting myself remember how it felt to have those hips flush with mine. “Keep going until you hit the door.”
He ignored me. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Great,” I lied.
“I didn’t.” He sat down on my couch and cast his eyes down the hallway toward my room. “I kept wishing for a different bed.”
My cheeks flushed, not because the mental image of him naked in my bed flashed through my mind. I still had my parka on and it was a warm coat.
“Goodbye, Shaw.”
“What are you doing today? You had a busy morning.”
“Stalking is illegal,” I snapped.
“So I’ve heard.” He leaned back, lifting his arms and lacing his fingers behind his head. “What are you doing for dinner tonight? Want to share a pizza?”
“Luke is coming over. I’m dating him, remember?”
“I remember.” His cocky grin soured.
“Then what are you doing here? Go home.” And by home, I meant Los Angeles.
“How serious is this thing with Luke?”
It wasn’t serious yet, but there was the promise of serious. Luke and I had potential. “We’re dating.”
“You said that already but it doesn’t really answer my question.”
“I don’t owe you any answers.” I stomped past the living room and down the entryway to the door. “Are you going to make me throw you out?” I called.
His laughter filled the hall as he emerged, a sexy grin on his face. Shaw moved into my space, crowding me beside the door. “Answer me. How serious?”
“Does it matter? I’m dating Luke. That won’t change just because you’re vacationing next door.”
“This isn’t a vacation, Presley.”
I gulped, refusing to let myself believe he’d come to Montana for me. “I think you’d better leave.”
He put his palm flat on the door, holding it closed. “How have you been?”
“You’re on the wrong side of the door.”
Shaw’s grin spread into a slow, mouthwatering smile. He leaned closer, his breath whispering across my cheek. “How are things at the garage?”
“Super. Now go.” My knees were weak and that smile was melting my resolve. I fixed my gaze on his broad chest and the green sweater that smelled like soap and sandalwood. “Please.”
“Why? We’re just talking. Unless there’s something about me being here that makes you uncomfortable.”
Hell, yes, I was uncomfortable. The man put me on edge and made me squirm under that golden gaze. “I have groceries to unload and I need to cook dinner. I don’t have time to talk.”
“Presley, look at me.”
“Shaw.” I squeezed my eyes shut and fisted my hands. “Please. Leave.”
He was still standing there when I opened my eyes, pure regret etched on his face. “I’m sorry. I never
should have doubted you.”
I nodded.
If he kept apologizing, I might forgive him, and until I had my feelings sorted, forgiveness was not an option. I yanked the doorknob, forcing him to step away. The cold air rushed past us. “Goodbye, Shaw.”
He sighed. “See you tomorrow.”
No, he would not. Thankfully, tomorrow was Monday and I was spending it at work. Unless . . . My stomach dropped. Shaw would just come to the garage.
Maybe after tonight, after Luke’s truck spent the night in my driveway, Shaw would get the hint. Did he think Luke and I had been intimate already? Did that bother him?
Because the idea of him with another woman made me sick. How many women had he been with these past five months? How many women had slept curled into his warm side and woken up to his soft lips on their temple?
That idea stiffened my spine, freezing any desire that had crept through my veins.
Shaw stepped through the door, his shoulders falling as he crossed the porch, but he paused at the top stair when beyond him on the street, a yellow cab parked beside my curb.
“Expecting company?” Shaw asked.
“No.” I walked out and stood by his side as the cab’s door opened.
I gasped as the woman in the backseat stepped onto the snow.
A face I hadn’t seen in ten years looked up.
A face I saw each day in the mirror.
Scarlett.
Chapter Twenty-One
Shaw
“Is she still asleep?” I asked, casting my gaze down the hallway toward Presley’s guest bedroom.
“Yeah.” Presley dropped to the edge of the couch and slumped. “Do you think I should call a doctor? It’s been two days.”
I took the seat beside her, keeping my voice low. I wanted to put my arm around her shoulders, hold her until some of the worry on her face subsided, but I stayed on my cushion, two feet away from hers. “Has she gotten up at all?”
“I heard her get up in the middle of the night and flush the toilet.”
“Then I’m sure she’s fine.”
Presley leaned back into the couch, looking at the ceiling. “This is . . .”