Full Contact

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  But not tonight.

  “I WANT TO HATE HIM.”

  “I know.”

  “I’ve spent my whole life hating him.”

  “You needed someone to blame. Just like Olivia did. She handed him to you on a platter.”

  Thinking over the years of growing up, Jay had new understanding of so many things. His aunt’s reserve. Her intense love—and distance at the same time. Her adoration and service to Jay—and her fear of him.

  She was a woman who had learned early that men were evil and she’d carried that belief to her grave.

  She’d had to control him so that she wasn’t afraid of him. She’d had to lie to him to keep him where she could control him.

  But she’d loved him. Always. There had never been any doubt about that.

  So, other than the fact that he’d grown up without a father, other than the time he’d spent in prison because he hadn’t had a parent watching his back the way the other kids had, had his life really been so horrible?

  “I’ve been alone my whole life.”

  “So has he, for most of his.”

  The old man’s aloneness had been far more acute than Jay’s. And yet, were they really that different?

  “You think he’s still up?”

  “It only seven o’clock.”

  “What’s he look like?” He had to lift his head soon. To stand up, rejoin his life and move on.

  “Smaller than you. He hunches over, like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. His skin is leathery, wrinkled from the sun. His hair’s gray. Long, but not as long as yours. But his beard might be longer than your ponytail.”

  They’d tried to get him to shave. He had refused.

  “He claims he hasn’t shaved since your mother died. She liked to watch him shave. She’d watched him that morning while he was getting ready for work. Joked with him. The next morning, when he got up, he couldn’t make himself replace the memory. And he never has.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jay couldn’t imagine loving anyone that much.

  The fingers in his hair stilled again. And he wished they wouldn’t. He wished Ellen wouldn’t be only a still shot in the movie of his life.

  “Let’s go get this over with.”

  Ellen didn’t whoop. Or move excitedly around him. She didn’t start talking fast or saying useless things. She didn’t even tell him he was doing the right thing. She simply stood, held out her hand and walked with him to the motorcycle.

  THE ROOM HAD BEEN PARTIALLY transformed. Instead of shelves, it sported a twin-size bed with oak headboard, a nightstand, dresser and rocking chair to match. The twenty-six-inch television that would be mounted to the wall once Ellen painted was on a temporary table.

  But where most of the rooms Ellen visited during the course of her workday were filled with personal items, pictures and mementoes, Joe’s was starkly empty.

  Except for the man sitting silently in the rocking chair, staring out the window at the darkness beyond. He was illuminated by the dim track lighting above the bed.

  Ellen started into the room, until Jay’s hand grabbed her arm, staying her. She waited for Jay to enter with her and close the door.

  “You Joe?” he asked, his voice more rough than she was used to.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m Jay.” He stood rigidly, his long hair hanging around shoulders left bare by the muscle shirt he wore with his black jeans and black leather boots, attitude flowing all over him.

  Joe rose, one hand on the arm of the rocker, as though to steady himself. He moved slowly, but he came forward until he was standing—straight, Ellen noticed—directly in front of his son.

  “And I’m sorry,” he said without so much as a blink.

  “You didn’t think I’d need a father?”

  “I didn’t think I’d be a good enough one. Your mother had such high hopes for you. You were going to be the man who would carry gentleness to our gender. You were going to change the world.”

  Joe hadn’t told her that. Ellen started to cry and both men turned to look at her. “She was right,” she explained.

  JAY TRIED TO STAY ANGRY. But he kept thinking about Cole. About how inept he’d felt around the boy.

  Jay, Ellen and Joe had been talking for a couple of hours, sitting in an empty family meeting room that consisted of a couple of couches with a table in between. Mostly Jay had been talking. The old man had more questions than a college entrance exam.

  “I have a son.” Jay dropped that information into the conversation sometime around nine o’clock.

  “Where is he?”

  “Living with his mother and stepfather. I found out about him a month ago.”

  “You didn’t know you had a son?”

  “I was in prison when he was born.” He didn’t spare the man any pain. Didn’t sugarcoat a damned thing.

  Joe apologized over and over again. And continued to ask questions. Most of which Jay answered.

  “You ever been in love?”

  No way would Jay answer. That was no one’s business.

  Joe frowned. “All these great things you’ve done—finding your mother’s murderer, that was a great one, son. And saving that girl—you were your mother’s son then. And the therapy—helping girls like my Ellen, here—” Joe smiled at her and she smiled back. “But you’re a damned fool, too. A chip off the old block. I didn’t even raise you and you’re still dragging me right along with you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Ellen recognized the tone. Not really defensive. Simply Jay pretending he didn’t care.

  “You might not hole up in a cabin in the woods, but you’re as locked up as me.”

  “Not me. I’m as free as any man can be.”

  “Depends on what you call free.”

  “The wind in my hair. My bike between my legs. The sky my only limit. I’ve got it made.”

  “You’ve missed the boat.”

  Sitting as she was between father and son, Ellen felt like a tennis ball as she looked between the two of them.

  “My life is exactly as I want it to be. I answer to no one.”

  “What about your heart? You ever listen to it?”

  “My heart’s just fine.”

  “You’re alone, son. Your heart can’t be fine. Take it from one who learned that lesson the hardest way possible. Love is the only thing really worth living for, Jay Jay. You aren’t living. You’re running.”

  JAY TOOK ELLEN TO HIS place to get her car. They hadn’t spoken since walking Joe to his room. They’d agreed to meet again in the morning to figure out where they’d go from there. Joe was pretty fond of his mountain. Jay needed to see the place.

  He needed to get out of this place.

  “You want to come in?” he asked Ellen as she handed him back her helmet.

  “No. I have something to do.”

  “At ten o’clock at night?”

  “I have to go see my mother.”

  Ellen had grown up with family, the nucleus of a large group of people who loved and needed her.

  She belonged here. He didn’t.

  Joe Billingsley Frasier didn’t understand that.

  SHELLEY, DAVID, MARTHA and Tim were sitting in the living room, watching National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. In August. Which was so like her family—unconventional, maybe, but together.

  “What’s wrong?” Martha put aside the bowl of popcorn she’d been holding as soon as Ellen walked in. David paused the video.

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s been a long day.”

  “You’re a mess, sis,” Tim said, lobbing a baseball in her direction.

  She caught the ball. And sent it back to him. “I was moving stuff.”

  “Your stuff?” Shelley asked, giving her a pointed stare.

  “No,” Ellen said, catching the baseball a second time and tossing it back. “It’s nothing to do with me. Listen, guys, can I talk to Mom alone
for a minute?”

  “How about that ice cream we’ve been talking about?” David asked.

  Shelley dropped the pillow she’d been holding onto the couch as she stood. Tim threw his ball into the air, caught it and followed David out of the room.

  “What’s up?” Martha asked, her lips pinched.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Okay.”

  “I have to leave Shelter Valley, Mom.”

  Martha blanched. But Ellen had to give her credit. She didn’t say a word. Yet.

  “Not forever. Maybe not even for long,” Ellen said, still standing behind the couch, facing the double recliner her mother had been sharing with David. “I love it here, you know that.”

  Martha nodded. Her eyes wide and filled with fear.

  “I’m not planning to sell my house or anything. But I have to know that I’m capable of living elsewhere.”

  “I never have.”

  “I know, Mom, but you’ve probably never doubted that you could, either. You’re here because your life is here.”

  “So is yours.”

  “What if it isn’t? What if Aaron had insisted that I go with him to Colorado, Mom? What if he hadn’t given in so easily when I suggested the divorce? We both know I still wouldn’t have gone. I’m hiding here. Because everyone here knows what happened. They watch out for me.”

  “People love you.”

  “I know. And I love them, too. But somehow during all of this, I’ve let that love trap me into believing that I don’t have the ability to cope outside of Shelter Valley.”

  Martha sucked in her lower lip.

  “I have to go, Mom.”

  “I know.”

  Coming around the edge of the couch, Ellen dropped down close to her mother’s chair. “You do?”

  Martha nodded. “I’ve been talking to the girls—and to David—and I know you’re right. If you’re in Shelter Valley because it’s the only place you feel safe, because you’re afraid to leave, then you have to go.”

  “I also love it here.”

  “Then you’ll be back.” There were tears in Martha’s eyes as she smiled.

  WHO IN THE HELL WAS OUT front at eleven o’clock at night? Dropping the hand weight he’d been lifting, Jay went to the door. Tonight was not a good night for the sheriff, or anyone else, to be paying him a visit. He was a little short on patience.

  “Ellen?”

  “I seem to be making a habit of this, huh?”

  “I thought you were at your folks’ place.”

  “I was.” She came inside and he shut the door behind her. “And now I’m not.”

  “I see that.”

  Had she come to collect her sex, then? He’d told her she could have it.

  There was only one problem. He wasn’t sure he could give it to her. Not the way she wanted it. Not without—

  No. He wasn’t going there. Had no room in his life for it.

  He was fine. Satisfied. He liked his life. A lot of folks couldn’t say the same.

  “Are you happy, Jay?”

  “What kind of question is that?”

  She stood in the middle of his foyer, as though her visit was only fleeting.

  “An important one. Joe said you can’t possibly be happy while keeping your heart detached from life. I happen to agree with him, but I wonder what you think.”

  He thought she was nuts. They were all nuts.

  And those damned eyes. They were pulling at him again.

  “I think…” Silently, he pleaded with her to let him go.

  “What?”

  “I…” How could one small woman, who’d never lived outside her safe little town, have the strength to overpower him?

  And why?

  He couldn’t spend the rest of his life in Shelter Valley. Or in any one small town.

  “Are you happy? That’s all I want to know.”

  “I thought I was.” What in the hell was he saying?

  “And now?”

  “And now I have to get out of this town. It’s doing things to me.” He left her standing there. Rude or not. He had to figure out what was wrong with him. She’d cast some kind of spell.

  Being incarcerated was getting to him. In his room, he pulled out his biggest duffel and started throwing things inside. Randomly. With no plan of where he was going and what he’d need when he got there.

  He had to be moved out in another week.

  “What things?” She’d followed him.

  “Huh?”

  “What things is this town doing to you?”

  “How the hell do I know?”

  “I think you do know, Jay. I think you’re scared and fighting it, but I think you know.”

  “What gives you that idea?” He was still cramming things into his bag.

  “Because I recognize the signs. I’m scared, too.”

  With a wad of underwear in his right hand, he stilled. She was standing right behind him. “Of what?”

  “Of all of the things that I can’t control. The things that can hurt me no matter what I do to prevent them. The things I don’t know and the ones I can’t see. But mostly, I’m scared of loving and losing.”

  There was that word. He’d been avoiding it. Had forbidden himself to say it. Even silently. Hell, he wasn’t even allowed to think it.

  Love was for…

  Ellen?

  Her hands slid around him from behind. “I just had a talk with my mother.”

  Somehow he had a feeling Martha Marks hadn’t been pleased with the outcome.

  “I told her I have to leave Shelter Valley for a while.”

  Underwear in hand, he froze in place with her hands crossed at his stomach, holding him.

  “I love it here, but I’m hiding, too. I have to know that I’m perfectly capable of leaving Shelter Valley if I want to. I have to know that I can cope…out there.”

  He couldn’t argue there. But he was shocked to hear her say so.

  “So I was wondering, do you want to come with me?”

  “Where?”

  “I was thinking Phoenix to begin with. That way Josh is still close to family, and, I guess, so am I.”

  “You’re planning to move your son out of Shelter Valley.”

  “For a while at least, yes.”

  “Cole’s in Phoenix.”

  “I know.”

  “So what are you suggesting? That we both move to Phoenix, deal with our issues and move on with our lives?”

  “I’m suggesting—” her face was buried in his neck, her words directly in his ear “—that we spend the rest of our lives dealing with whatever issues arise, when they arise, but that we do it together. I’m much better at it when you’re around.”

  He was a better man when she was around.

  “I love you, Jay.”

  Oh, God. She’d done it now. There was no way he was getting out of this.

  Turning, he thought of his mother. Of her brutal death. And the agony his father had suffered.

  He thought of the seedy motel room on the outside of town where Ellen had survived.

  And of his father, wasting his life up on a mountain all alone.

  He thought of Cole, a boy who was struggling and who might need an example outside of Kelsey’s home someday.

  He thought of his motorcycle. And the beach.

  And he thought of Martha Marks—a woman whose only sin was loving her daughter. Being there for her.

  “Then I’m going to ask you to stay in Shelter Valley,” he said, meeting Ellen’s gaze.

  Her eyes closed. Her mouth flattened. She bowed her head and started to pull away.

  “And marry me.”

  Head snapping back up, Ellen gaped at him.

  “Shelter Valley is a great place to raise a kid. And for another one to visit,” he said. “The rest of the world is a great place to explore during the three gruelingly hot summer months.”

  Joe wasn’t going to leave Arizona. He wouldn’t get that far away from Tammy’s m
emory.

  And Jay had a feeling he wasn’t going to be able to get that far away from his old man, either. They had some catching up to do. A lost boy to raise. A five-year-old he had yet to meet and get to know.

  And maybe some new Billingsleys to deal with in the future, too.

  “I have one question,” Ellen said, her gaze serious.

  “What’s that?”

  “Do you love me?”

  “I think that’s pretty obvious at this point.”

  “Maybe. But I need to hear the words, Jay. Do you love me?”

  His throat tightened, making air scarce. But Ellen’s eyes were right in front of him. Doing that damned thing to him again.

  “Yes.” He forced the word out. “Yes, dammit, I do, okay? I love you like crazy, Ellen Moore, and if you ever, ever—”

  “Shh.” With a finger against his lips, she silenced him. “As long as we love each other, the ‘if evers’ will take care of themselves, Jay. One way or the other. They have to. It’s that, or let them lock us up for the rest of our lives.”

  He knew she was right. If bad stuff happened, they would either survive it or they wouldn’t. Either way, it would happen. But the worst thing of all would be to let the fear of the bad stop them from living—and loving—at all.

  “I love you,” he said, loud and clear, gazing into Ellen’s big brown eyes.

  “And I love you.” Her grin was so bright there wasn’t a dark spot left in his heart.

  “Your mother’s going to love this,” he said, grinning back.

  “She will. She’ll love you and you’re going to love her, too. You just wait and see.”

  The twinkle in her eye invited him to follow her wherever she led. And Jay knew that from that moment on, that twinkle was the beacon that would guide the rest of his life.

  Lucky for him that right then, it was leading him to bed.

  A little sex therapy, and he’d be a healed man.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0975-6

  FULL CONTACT

  Copyright © 2011 by Tara Taylor Quinn

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.