by Lara Norman
Milo kneeled. “Hi, Jack in the box. Hi, Lucy goosey.”
They giggled and squealed his name again. Fletcher ushered them back to the kitchen to feed them the snack he’d been preparing. “How’s it going, Milo?”
He shrugged and took a seat at the table, crossing his eyes at Lucy to hear her giggle. “I can’t complain.”
“Carol was here yesterday,” Fletcher commented offhandedly. He sliced up some cheese to add to the crackers and halved grapes they already had in front of them.
“Oh?” Milo didn’t look up from the cracker Jack was trying to offer him.
“Yes, she said you had a woman under your skin and in your head.” Fletcher was attempting to sound casual, but Milo knew when he was being prompted for information.
“You could say so, but it doesn’t matter because she’s not interested.” Milo took the cracker and pretended to take a bite before handing it back to Jack. His reward was a huge grin.
“I’ve been there, Milo.” Fletch sat with the other three. “And I don’t think I can even give you good advice about the situation.”
Milo chuckled at that. “But look how it turned out for you.”
Fletcher sent him a quick grin. “Pretty perfect, as a matter of fact.”
They did seem like their relationship was pretty perfect, though Milo assumed they worked at it the same as anyone else. “How did you end up making it work?”
“By not making assumptions anymore. I started out assuming Lillian would hate me because I’m boring while she’s wild. I’m a geek, and she’s the personification of a lighting storm.”
It warmed him to realize Fletcher spoke with such love for the woman Milo considered his sister. “I know it was rough going at the beginning.”
“Ugh, yes, and she tried to date you to forget about me.” Fletcher rolled his eyes, and they both chuckled.
“What a joke that was. There was zero chemistry. At least I gained Lillie and Carol as a second family.”
“Jack, stop that.” Fletcher reached behind him for a paper towel to wipe up the grape Jack was smashing. “I got lucky. If you’d been her soul mate, I’d have been screwed.”
Milo guffawed and Lucy joined in with her musical toddler laughter. “There was never any danger of that happening.”
“I didn’t know that at first. I was so jealous.”
Milo’s eyebrows went up. The idea that Fletcher would be jealous of him was ludicrous. “It was lucky for us all it didn’t turn out that way.”
“So, the woman you’re twisted up about . . .”
“She came into the bar the other night, sat alone, and paid in cash. Didn’t drink the beer she ordered. After I closed out, she was waiting for me in the parking lot.” He glanced at the kids. “Um, pseudonyms, one night only, I left in the morning.”
Fletch nodded. “Have you seen her again?”
“She came by the bar two days ago. She was pretty scared to tell me her real name and shut down completely when I told her I wasn’t interested in falsities.”
“Huh.” Lucy climbed down from her chair and into Fletcher’s lap; he kissed her head.
“Yeah, so, she took off. I pegged her as a runner, someone hiding out in small town America.”
“Could be.”
“I don’t know if I’m right or not, but she spooked when I asked if that was it.”
Fletcher frowned. “Do you want to get involved in that sort of thing?”
“I don’t know what the thing is.” Milo shrugged. “If she came back and wanted to be honest, I don’t see why I wouldn’t.”
“What if she’s in trouble?”
Milo hadn’t thought about it that way. If she was in some sort of trouble, she could bring it with her. “I suppose it depends on what type of trouble it is.”
“And whether she’ll drag you down with her.”
It gave him something to think about. Milo stayed until the kids went down for a nap and then went home. He wasn’t any more sure what he was going to do after speaking to Fletcher, but he’d enjoyed the time he spent with the Bennetts.
It was sad, but he never knew what to do on his days off. He wandered throughout his little house, tidying up and puttering around. He cleaned the kitchen, put away the laundry that had decorated his couch for almost a week, and finally sat down to watch a movie. He flipped through the channels, discontent with his choices. He was itchy, needing a release that he almost didn’t recognize. He wasn’t fond of the idea that June had already changed so much about his life after one damn night. Why should he want to be in her presence when she couldn’t be honest with him? Why did he want to find her, beg her to take him back to her room, and pound into her just to hear her scream his name? Not Johnnie, either, but his real name.
To hear her call him Milo while he fucked her would cap off his night, obviously. Maybe the only thing actually wrong with him was that he needed sex. No big deal. It didn’t have to have anything to do with June herself; it was just a normal, carnal need.
Convinced he didn’t need to track her down to find what he needed, he headed for the shower. He turned the water on warm and stripped off his sweats and t-shirt. He stepped into the tub, but couldn’t seem to conjure up exactly the way she looked. He closed his eyes and thought about her long dark hair. He wasn’t the most observant guy, but he knew it fell to somewhere near her waist. Her eyes were a bright blue that dominated her face. The more he stroked his hard length and tried to picture Shea, the easier the image of her came into his mind. She was all long arms and legs, tall and graceful. She was skittish, yes, but she was uninhibited when she fucked him.
That thought was all he needed. He felt the tightening in his balls, the heat that shot up his spine. She’d ridden him good and hard, her breasts bouncing in the early morning light.
Milo grunted, stroking one more time before he shot cum all over the tiles. He leaned against the wall for a second to catch his breath before cleaning up. That should hold him.
But wasn’t it a bitch when he sat back in the living room with the remote in his hand and all he could focus on was that one night they’d spent together?
Chapter Five
Milo was working at the bar Friday night when she came in. For once, he wasn’t looking for her or even expecting her. He’d done a decent job of finally putting her from his mind over the past week, mostly because they were slammed at work. If there was a surge of customers and Lillie was happy with the books, then Milo was happy that he’d done a good job. Cooper, Ryder, and Nora were gaining skills in the bottle flipping department—at least, the guys were. Nora might have to hang up her hat and never be anything more than an attractive woman serving drinks; she was hopelessly clumsy.
So when he was finished serving a couple at a high top table, he looked up when the door swung open and saw her. She was wearing the jacket he liked on her, and her hair was pulled up behind her head. Determined to remain aloof, he went over to her table and dropped a cocktail napkin in front of her.
“Draft?” he barked.
Her eyes were soft when she looked up at him. “Milo, please.”
He looked away. “We have bottles if you’d prefer.”
She sighed. “Yes, a draft.”
“Be right back.”
He went behind the bar and pulled her beer, trying to look anywhere but in her direction. The hurt look on her face was the last thing he’d expected, but he would not feel guilty.
He brought the drink back and placed it on the napkin before turning away.
“Milo.”
“I’m busy, Shea.”
He didn’t face her to reply or slow his stride. He continued serving customers until his eyes nearly crossed. He was tired, but he was closing, unfortunately. He trusted the other three to lock up after classes, but not to run the bar in his absence. That was a degree of control he wasn’t ready to turn over just yet. He had the next night off, it being a Saturday, and he would sleep then.
At closing time, he was satisfi
ed to see her walk out the front door. Good riddance, was all he could think. She was a barrel of trouble and he didn’t have the time for her. He counted down the drawers and wiped the counters, checked the front door to make sure it was locked, and headed out the back.
He wasn’t surprised to see her there, not really. He did think that she trusted a small town a little too much, but it was safe there. The only crime threat was the Bandidos, and their specialty didn’t include roughing up women now that Brody was gone.
“Why are you here?” he asked as he crossed the lot to his motorcycle.
“I want to talk to you.”
“You’ve had plenty of time for that.”
“Maybe, but I’m scared.”
He swung one leg over the motorcycle and met her gaze. “Of me?”
“No, not of you.” She sighed. “Look, can I please stay at your place for a while? I don’t want to stay at the B&B forever.”
He stared at her with a frown on his face. “Why in the world would you want to stay with me? You don’t even know me.”
“No, but I feel as if I can trust you.”
“What gave you that impression, exactly?”
Shea twisted her hands in front of her. “All the things you could have done to take advantage of me, but you didn’t. Because you demanded honesty from me instead of screwing me over.”
He thought about it for a moment. He supposed she had a point and, of course, he knew she could trust him. He just didn’t understand why she thought that about a guy she didn’t know.
“Look, your friend trusts you to run her bar for her, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you have friends, I suppose, who believe you’re a good guy.”
“I do.” He smirked.
“And I need to . . . lie low for a bit.”
That was what he was afraid she’d say. “Look, Shea, honestly, I’m afraid of what you might be caught up in. If you’re running from the police, or you’re in WITSEC or something, I don’t need that kind of drama in my life.”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing like that, Milo.”
“Okay, look. You can come with me tonight, and we’ll talk in the morning. It’s late, and I’m tired.”
She grinned. “Okay.”
He had the feeling she knew he’d cave. “Don’t think you’re going to try any funny stuff, either.”
She laughed, sliding on the bike behind him and hugging him to her.
He didn’t question her lack of luggage or even a purse. She was enough of a mystery on her own without him having to worry about things that held no true consequence. They would sort everything out in the morning.
He let her into his house, thankful he’d cleaned the other day. “Bathroom is through there, bedroom there.” He pointed to each in turn. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Milo, you don’t have to do that.”
“Oh, but I really do.” He went to the couch and began pulling the back cushions off.
“You know, I’ve already seen you naked.”
“And as nice as that was, I need to get some sleep. I don’t think I can do that with you in my bed with me.” He went to the hall closet and took out an extra blanket.
“See, I knew I was right about you. You’re a gentleman.”
He shrugged and threw the blanket over the couch, arranging the pillows at one end. “That’s me.”
Shea stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Um, good night.”
“Good night.”
He tried to stretch out on the couch, but he was too tall for it. It didn’t matter though because he was so tired he was sure he’d just go straight to sleep.
Milo didn’t know what time it was when she woke him. He heard the screams in his dreams and rolled over, nearly falling off the couch in the process. He realized it wasn’t a dream, but Shea. He rushed into his room to find her tangled in the sheets.
“Shea.”
She writhed on the bed, whimpering and letting out short screams.
“Shea!” He didn’t know if he should touch her under such circumstances, but he wanted to wake her up. She was clearly distressed over whatever nightmare she was having.
“Shea!” He put his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently.
“What!” She sat up abruptly, nearly headbutting him.
He moved out of the way just in time. “You’re having a nightmare.”
“I was?” She looked around her. “I was.”
“Are you okay?”
“No, not really. Can you hold me?”
He slid into the bed next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re freezing.” He tugged on the covers until they came up to her chin.
“That always happens after a nightmare.”
“What were you dreaming about?”
She was silent for several long minutes. “It was about him.”
“Him?” It wasn’t too hard to figure out she meant someone that had once been important to her.
“Yeah, the reason I’m here in Nowhere, Texas, paying in cash and hoping I don’t run out any time soon.”
“So, you need to stay here because you’re broke?”
“I’m not technically broke, but if I access my bank, he can find me.”
Great. “That’s, uh, that’s interesting.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“No, it’s pathetic.” She pushed her hair off her face and looked into his eyes. She looked terrified.
“It probably isn’t as pathetic as it might sound.”
“My ex, he isn’t a nice man. He vowed to kill me if I ever left him.”
There were so many emotions going through Milo at that moment. “Why haven’t you just reported him to the police?”
“Oh, I have. Threats aren’t enough for them to arrest him.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
She snorted out a humorless laugh. “He has rights too, wife beater though he may be.”
“Jesus, Shea, so you’re running from an abusive husband?”
“We’re not married, not really. I lived with him long enough that we could be considered common law spouses, but that doesn’t apply in most states anymore. It’s really for the division of property more than anything else.” She closed her mouth, afraid she was rambling.
“And you left him?”
“I put up with him for a really long time until I just couldn’t take it anymore. I took a bus, then rented a car, then ditched the car and started getting cabs with cash. I zigzagged all over the country before I stopped here. It’s so tiny.”
“Yeah, it is. That’s why most of us think we’d be better off if we moved, but we’re sort of loyal to our hometown.”
“It’s the type of place I need, as long as I can hide out and he can’t find me.”
“And what did you plan on doing once you got here? Work, a house; what were you thinking about?”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t either. You have to fill out forms and all that for a job, but he shouldn’t be able to track that.”
“I suppose as long as I don’t buy a house, he’ll have nothing to find. He can’t access work or government documents or anything like that.”
“Why don’t we talk about this in the morning? When I’ve had more sleep and I can think straight.”
She nodded slowly. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to go back to sleep. I picture him finding me and I don’t know what to do.”
“I can stay if it would make you feel better.”
“Please?”
Milo scooted until they could both lay down and held her against his chest. He thought at first that he didn’t want to bother with whatever she was worried about, but hearing her story made him angry. What kind of bastard hurt a woman and threatened to kill her if she left? Apparently, the type that Shea was running from. He couldn’t seem to make his brain shut down, instead thinking of all the ways he could make sure Shea was safe. He could get her a job at the bar, that would be no
thing, and she could stay with him until she found a place of her own.
What if she ran again? What if she was always on the run, always afraid of being found? What would Milo do if he fell for her, and she left? If he put his heart on the line and worked to help her rebuild her life, and then she walked away, could he handle that?
He was afraid he already knew the answer.
Chapter Six
Milo woke alone as he’d expected he would. He didn’t think Shea had gone very far, not if she had nowhere to stay. He figured if she was running out of money and needed to hide, she wouldn’t give up the opportunity to stay in his house.
He got up, used the bathroom, and went out to the kitchen. Shea wasn’t there, either, as he thought she might be. He started a pot of coffee and looked in the fridge for something decent to make. It was late, after eleven, and he couldn’t decide if he wanted breakfast or lunch.
He considered calling someone to ask for advice about Shea’s problems, but figured he didn’t know what he’d say, anyway. He rolled everything she’d told him around in his head while he got out a frying pan.
He was in the middle of scrambling eggs when the back door opened. He didn’t even bother to look up.
“I got my stuff from the B&B and checked out. Mrs. Wilson is so nice.” Shea dropped a bag by the door and tugged a suitcase along behind her.
“I know. She used to teach middle school.”
“Was she your teacher?”
“Yep.”
She rolled her luggage into the bedroom and came back to the kitchen. “What is all this?”
“Eggs,” he replied. He thought it was rather obvious.
“I can see that. I guess I’m trying to make small talk and not doing a very good job of it.” She stood just past the bedroom doorway, unsure of what to do next.
“You don’t have to worry about filling the air with conversation.” He pulled the egg carton back out of the fridge and got two plates while he was at it.