Renovation (A Golden Beach Novel)

by Loraine, Kim

  After fighting with himself for a half-hour, he finally abandoned the run and headed up the stairs to the boardwalk. His heart thudded against his chest when he saw her. Rays of golden morning light landed on her hair, giving it an almost translucent appearance. She leaned against the rough wooden railing, her gaze cast down at her shoes.

  He chuckled as he watched her pick at her skirt, tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, then pull it back out again. She looked nervous, self-conscious even. This was not the Valerie he’d come to know. She was sassy, fiery.

  He started his assent, closing the distance between them, but stopped when he heard a man’s voice call out her name. Flames of jealousy shot through him as he quickly came up to speed. Blake, that son of a bitch. Sure enough, the douche grabbed her up in a fierce hug and pulled her away.

  Jaw clenched and chest burning, he breathed deeply and tried to control his anger. He was not going to stalk Valerie while she went out with that jackass. He was going to walk away, lick his wounds, and beat the shit out of the punching bag at the station.

  How could she do this to him? Was she sleeping with that stethoscope-wearing, shiny-shoed, pampered, ass-butt? He raked a frustrated hand through his hair and muttered a low oath as his fingers caught the cord of his earbuds, effectively ripping them from his ears.

  As he stalked back into the station, Klipper and Michael looked up from their card game in surprise.

  “What are you doing here, Miller?” Michael asked, confusion on his face.

  “The fucking douche. She’s dating him.”

  Klipper winced and stood. “You cool, D?”

  “No. I’m not fucking cool.”

  Michael stood and put up his hands, possibly in an attempt to calm him—more likely in case he needed to defend himself. “What’re you doing?”

  “I’m gonna blow off some steam. I’ll be hitting the bag for a while.”

  Both of his friends sagged in relief as he moved through the kitchen. He headed toward the gym, needing desperately to punch the daylights out of something.

  “How was your coffee date?” Lena stretched out like a cat and yawned as Valerie put together an early lunch. It was after eleven, but she didn’t seem to care, she was still lounging in her pajamas.

  “Fine. It wasn’t a date.”

  “Maybe not to you.”

  Valerie fought to control the involuntary eye-roll she felt coming. “Stop.”

  Lena waved her hand in the air. “Fine, but don’t come crying when they’re both fighting to the death in the parking lot.” She cocked an eyebrow. “I’ve got some news.”

  Interest piqued, she padded over to the loveseat and lowered herself down.

  “I’ve taken an assignment abroad. In Japan. Tokyo, actually.” Lena’s eyes shone with excitement that her guarded expression couldn’t hide.

  “That’s amazing. You’ve always wanted to go back.”

  “I know. I haven’t been there in over twenty years. I don’t remember it at all, just from pictures of me with my grandparents.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “At least three months.”

  Apprehension grabbed ahold of her. She couldn’t pay for this place alone for three months. Honestly, she couldn’t afford it for more than one more month on her slashed income.

  “I’m planning to sublet to one of my other friends. But that means I can’t cover you anymore on the rent once I go.” Lena cast her eyes down, obviously feeling guilty.

  “I needed to talk to you about the rent, actually. Even with your help, I can’t afford much more than a few months. You’re going to need to find someone to take my place.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine, Lena.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve decided to go back to school and get my teaching certification. I’m not sure where yet, but I’m going to have to move back home.”

  Lena heaved a sigh of relief. “Well, I guess I don’t feel as bad about leaving then.”

  “When do you go?”

  “Not until November. I’ve got a lot to do to get ready. My Japanese is pretty rusty, and I’ve got to take care of my visa and make sure my vaccinations are up to date. There are some pretty nasty mosquito-borne viruses out there.”

  Excitement and envy bubbled up in her. She thought back to days that had once held the promise of change, of unknown possibilities, and fought off a pang of jealousy. She was carving out her own path. Slowly, but surely. It wasn’t filled with cross-continental adventures anymore, but it was her own.

  Lena hopped up, all smiles, and threw her arms around Valerie. “I’m so relieved. I thought you’d be upset.”

  “You going to tell Michael?”

  Lena’s face fell, the color drained from her cheeks. “I’m sure he won’t care. It’s not like I’ll be gone forever.”

  “I think he’s going to care. A lot.”

  “You think so?” The hope in her eyes almost broke Valerie’s heart.

  “Yep.”

  Lena smirked. “Interesting.”

  “What?”

  “Maybe he’s not as unaffected as I thought.”

  She chewed her lip, trying to decide if she should tell Lena about the last time she’d run into Michael.

  “He seemed pretty interested in you when I saw him at the station a week ago.”

  “Really?”

  Valerie nodded.

  “Hmm,” Lena mused as she wandered around the house, collecting her phone, and taking her coffee mug to the sink. “I think I’ve got a phone call to make. Excuse me.”

  Laughter escaped Valerie’s mouth before she could stop the sound. She watched Lena bounce back to her bedroom. As the door shut, she curled her feet up on the loveseat and focused on figuring out her own game plan.

  She needed to find the right school, talk to her parents, and make her move so Lena could fill the hole in rent. Add that to the task of keeping Blake safely tucked away in the friend-zone and chipping away at the wall Donovan was hiding behind, her dance card was full.

  Sweeping her hair away from her face, she jumped to the easiest task on her list. Snatching her laptop from the coffee table, she began searching for a more viable option for school. Virginia Tech was too far and too costly. She needed to be close to her family, to help out with Asher while her mom worked, and if she was being truthful, closer to Donovan.

  Chapter 18

  Six days had passed since her coffee date with Blake. Valerie hadn’t seen or heard from Donovan beyond the occasional text. She’d started to worry that she’d done something to upset him until he’d called the day before and asked her on a date.

  Now they stood, apart but together, at a cozy wine bar, watching as her little sister finished an acoustic set and stepped off the stage.

  “Angela, you’re so amazing,” she crowed over the applause.

  Her sister grinned and tucked a stray lock of honey-blond hair behind her ear.

  “I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, shooting a deadly glare at Donovan.

  His smooth baritone floated over Valerie’s head. “I brought her. I know you didn’t want your family to see your solo stuff yet, but it’s too good not to share.”

  Her heart melted. Their date had started out awkwardly, with an uncomfortably formal embrace and a peck on the lips that held almost zero heat. What was wrong with him? Held at arm’s length all night, she got the strong impression that he’d rather be anywhere but with her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were writing your own songs? I thought you wrote with Garrett.”

  Angela’s cheeks flamed and shame cascaded over Valerie immediately.

  “They’re not good enough to show you guys yet.” Her
sister gestured at the small audience in the cozy cafe. “This is a trial run.”

  “They were awesome. I’ve never heard you sound so soulful.”

  She had to force herself not to grab Angela into a tight hug.

  “Val’s right, Angie. This stuff is on a whole new level.” Donovan moved to Angela’s side, slipping an arm around her shoulders. “You mad at me?”

  Angela scuffed the toe of her boot on the linoleum floor, back and forth, until her shoe left a black mark. She shook her head and raised hopeful pleading eyes to the two of them.

  “Don’t tell Garrett?”

  “Of course not. But you definitely need to show these to him.” Valerie placed a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder.

  Angela nodded and grinned. “You really liked them?”

  “I’d buy your album even if I wasn’t your sister. I’d even go so far as to insist on listening to it in the car on the way home.”

  Donovan chuckled. “It’s my car and I’d let her. You know I don’t let anyone mess with my music.”

  His hand fell lightly to the small of Valerie’s back. The warmth of his palm spread through her, filling an empty space she’d been struggling to ignore since he’d picked her up for their date.

  “Another drink, sweetheart?” His voice rumbled against her ear.

  She turned to face him, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. His moss-green eyes were guarded, revealing no clue of his mood.

  “Sure.”

  “The same again?” He averted his eyes as she continued to search his face for some semblance of emotion.

  “Stop.”

  His gaze locked back on hers. Anger flashed through them, hot and fierce. She sucked in a fortifying breath and grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the club into the warm summer night.

  “Why are you angry with me?” The wobble in her voice brought a rush of frustration through her.

  Those eyes, usually her undoing, burned bright green as she confronted him.

  “What gives you that idea?”

  Her arms reflexively crossed over her chest, a protective gesture she’d gotten used to falling into during confrontations with Mick.

  “You’ve been treating me like crap tonight. You’ve barely touched me, won’t look at me, and you’re acting like I’m the last person you want to spend your evening with.”

  “Maybe it’s the other way around. It seems to me that I might be the one getting screwed over here.”

  He was infuriating her as he played it cool, leaning against the building’s brick facade. Waves of anger and astonishment billowed from her.

  “How’s that? What on earth have I done tonight that makes me the bad guy?”

  “You know what, sweetheart? It’s nothing. We’re just not on the same page. I thought we were exclusive. But I know you’re seeing other people.”

  Shock ran down her spine. Seeing other people? What was he talking about?

  “Where did you get that idea?”

  “I thought I made myself perfectly clear when I told you, no one else. I. Don’t. Share. And the fact that it’s that douche, Blake, just makes it even worse.” He raked a hand through his hair, frustration clearly winning out over control.

  Relief flooded her. “Blake? I’m not dating Blake.”

  “Do you just hop over to his bed after you finish with me?”

  His words hit her like a slap in the face. “No. I’m not sleeping with him. How could you even ask me that?”

  “You two sure looked cozy the other morning on the boardwalk.”

  Apprehension tickled the back of her neck. “You were spying on me?”

  He stood, his eyes wide with shock as he quickly backpedaled. “Whoa, no, no. I was out for a run. I saw you on the boardwalk, was gonna come sweep you off your feet, but Dr. Monroe slithered in before I could say anything.”

  Her tension eased. She needed to calm down, trust him. “Blake and I just had coffee. Friends have coffee.” The echo of Blake’s words tasted false in her mouth.

  “That’s not what he wants, sweetheart. Any man who says he wants to be just friends with you is lying. Unless he’s gay.”

  She gritted her teeth, trying to get her bearings and figure out which way to steer the conversation. This was the second time he’d blown something completely out of proportion.

  “Well, whatever he wants doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure I get a say in who I date, Donovan.”

  “You’re dating me.” His eyes fixed on hers, burning with defiance.

  “And you seem to keep forgetting that I don’t want anyone else. You’ve got to trust me. I’m not running around behind your back.”

  “I don’t like you seeing him, sweetheart.”

  His hands reached up to cup her face, but she flinched on reflex. “I’ll do what I want. If you can’t trust me, maybe we’re not right for each other.”

  She watched as the arrogant mask of the old Donovan slipped into place. The only indication of his annoyance was the pulsing muscle in his jaw as he ground his teeth.

  “Come on, Angela’s waiting.” He placed a hand on her low back again, pressing her toward the door.

  “No. I’m suddenly not feeling well. Take me home, please.”

  “Sweetheart, don’t do this.”

  She felt the sting of tears as the words fell from her lips, “I need some space, Donovan. Take me home or I’ll call a cab.”

  His face paled, a panicked look in his eyes. “How much space?” His quiet voice broke her heart.

  “I don’t know. I’ll call you.”

  He nodded and dropped his hand from her back as he walked her to the jeep.

  “Can I say anything to fix this?”

  She took a shuddering breath, trying to figure out exactly what he could do.

  “Not right now. Like I said, I need some space. Time to think.”

  What she really needed was time to convince herself that her relationship wasn’t turning into Mick all over again.

  In the days that followed, Valerie maintained radio silence from both Donovan and Blake. Not for lack of trying on the part of both men. Lena had turned each of them away multiple times over the course of three days. As Valerie sat curled up on the loveseat, a pint of ice cream in her hands, and a glass of red wine on the table, Lena let out an annoyed sigh in her direction.

  “Yes?”

  “When are you going to tell me what happened?’

  At this point, she’d almost forgotten exactly why she was mad. She’d gone over the conversation in her head so many times, the words had lost their significance.

  “It’s all so jumbled up now. It doesn’t even seem important.”

  Lena poured herself a glass of wine and snatched a spoon. “Clearly, that’s not the case.” Removing the ice cream from Valerie’s frozen hands, Lena dug around for the chunks of cookie dough, frowning at the pint. “Ugh, you always take the good stuff and leave me with the crappy vanilla ice cream.”

  “You should’ve been quicker to join me in my misery.”

  “Spill it, girlie,” Lena said around a spoonful of ice cream.

  She sat up, grabbing her wine glass, and taking a deep breath. Her thoughts were flying by a mile a minute.

  “You remember the date he took me on the other night?” When Lena nodded, she pressed on. “The whole time we were out, he treated me like I was invisible. Barely paying attention to me, talking to everyone else around us.”

  “That’s rude.” Lena’s perfect face wrinkled into a frown.

  “I know. So I finally called him on it. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me it was my fault. That he’d seen me with Blake and I couldn’t hang out with him anymore. He wanted me to remember that I was with him and no one else.�
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  Lena licked her spoon clean and put the lid back on the ice cream. “See, I told you. So why are you mad?”

  Her eyes widened in astonishment. “What do you mean? He tried to tell me what I could and couldn’t do. He doesn’t trust me.”

  “Can you blame him? You didn’t tell him about having coffee with Blake—the hot, rich, successful doctor. He still doesn’t know how important Blake was in your life, by the way. I’d be seeing green if I were him.”

  Her mouth opened and closed again. She had no words. Lena was supposed to commiserate, agree that Donovan was in the wrong, and drink with her until they were drunk enough for a dance party in the living room. Valerie had done the same for her countless times.

  “Look, Donovan basically just told you that he doesn’t want you to be with anyone else because the idea makes him crazy. He practically asked you to go steady.”

  “It sounded like he was being a possessive jerk to me. Just like Mick.”

  Lena’s eyes widened. “So this is about Mick? Man, that guy did a number on you. Val, not every guy is going to try and control you. Mick was an asshole who clearly has issues with women. Donovan has his issues, but he’s not trying to control you. He’s a guy, defending his territory. Blake makes him feel threatened, probably inferior. Sure, he could have been less passive-aggressive about it, but he’s probably been hurt in the past. You need to talk to him. Hash it out.”

  Valerie took a large gulp of her wine and sighed. Lena had a way of turning the tables on her.

  In an effort to change the subject, she downed the rest of her drink and turned on some music. “Okay, enough boy talk. Dance party?”