Come Back Home Again (Hope Valley Book 2)

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Come Back Home Again (Hope Valley Book 2) Page 9

by Jessica Prince


  God, he was killing me. “There’s nothing to talk about,” I muttered. “I’m not upset, I just really need to get back to work.

  “Bullshit,” he clipped back, making my back go straight. “You’re tryin’ to push me away. Talk to me.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don’t want to talk about it?” I snapped. “Especially to you.” Anger was a defense mechanism I’d become well acquainted with over the years. Every time I felt backed into a corner, I lashed out, needing to distance myself from everyone and everything. It was the only way I knew how to cope when everything became too much and I felt like the walls were closing in on me.

  His chin jerked back in surprise at my acerbic tone before understanding dawned and his features softened once more. “This is about Harley.”

  My jaw locked so tight it began to hurt. “It is not.”

  “It is. I forgot how much you hated her back in high school.”

  I pushed off the counter and put several feet between us. “I have tables to see to. I don’t have time for this.”

  He wanted to continue pushing, I could see it written all over his face, but thankfully he didn’t. “Fine. But we’re finishing this conversation tonight.”

  With everything that had just gone down, I’d completely forgotten about my plans to have dinner with Hayes. And now that I was standing there, cut open bleeding thanks to Harley’s gift at tearing me down, I wasn’t sure I was up for a private heart-to-heart with him.

  “You know what? I forgot that tonight doesn’t really work for me. I’ve got a lot of things I need to take care of.”

  “I’m sure you can get it all handled before dinner.” Then he turned on his boots and started for the door, leaving me flabbergasted.

  “I—what?”

  “I’ll see you tonight at seven. And angel.” His massive hand was holding the door open as he looked at me from over his shoulder. “You’re not there at seven, I’ll track your ass down. And I won’t be happy about it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Temperance

  Leaning forward, I looked through the windshield of my car at the building in front of me, and double-checked the address Hayes had texted to me earlier just to make sure I was in the right place. The GPS had guided me to the exact address he specified, but I was sure he had to have mixed up a number or something.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but it definitely hadn’t been this. There were plenty of nice, upscale apartment complexes around town, but the one Hayes lived in certainly wasn’t that. This wasn’t even one of the decent middle-income places.

  The complex consisted of two long rectangular buildings that faced each other with a cracked and crumbling blacktop parking lot in the middle. That was it. The brick exterior had been painted the most boring, unattractive shade of beige I’d ever seen. There were six units on the bottom level of each building, with a single set of stairs that led to six more above. There was no personality whatsoever to the complex, and for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why Hayes would choose to live in a place like this.

  I climbed from the car and started for the stairs that led to Hayes’s apartment on the second floor. The iron railing along the cement steps was so rusty that pieces of it flaked off in my hand as I held on to guide my way up to the poorly lit second level. I reached the ugly maroon door at the very end of the walkway with the number 12 on the front in plain black-and-white stickers that had started peeling off due to age and weather.

  The door opened a second after I knocked, and I breathed a sigh of relief that I didn’t have to wait out there alone for very long.

  “Hey,” Hayes greeted with a lazy grin, and I nearly swallowed my tongue at the sight of him. He wore a pale blue long-sleeved Henley that fitted to his broad shoulders and chest and pulled tight at his biceps. Perfectly faded jeans hugged his thighs and led down to bare feet. I’d never found a man’s feet attractive, but there was just something about seeing Hayes like this, completely comfortable and relaxed, that took him from his normal gorgeous to a hot so smoking I was afraid I’d combust.

  “Uh, h-hey.” My brain glitched before coming back online, and I lifted the six-pack I’d picked up on the way over while blurting, “I brought beer. I wasn’t sure what you drank, and I figured you weren’t one for wine, so I took a chance and got Bud Light.”

  That smile on his face grew bigger as he took the beer from me. “I drink pretty much anything as long as it’s domestic and not that expensive-as-hell shit with names nobody can pronounce.”

  “Oh. Well good, then Bud Light works.”

  “Yeah, angel,” he chuckled, and that endearment shot through me like a hot knife through butter. “It definitely works.” Moving to the side, he lifted an arm for me to enter. “Come on in and take a load off. Dinner’ll be ready in just a few.”

  The inside of the apartment was only about a step and a half better than the outside. The door opened right into the small living room, and directly behind that was a cutout for the miniscule galley kitchen with Formica countertops and appliances that looked original to the building—in other words, old. To the right of that was a tiny breakfast nook area, and beyond was a short hall with one door on the left, which I assumed was the bathroom, and one at the very end that led to the only bedroom in the whole place. The walls were painted a dingy white, completely devoid of any artwork or pictures. The carpet, another nasty shade of beige, was threadbare in several spots, and as I walked, I could feel how thin it was beneath my boots.

  This wasn’t a home. It was a stopover while you waited for something better, and the fact that Hayes lived in a place so beneath him made me incredibly sad.

  At least the furniture he had was good quality, but there wasn’t much of it. A comfy-looking sofa, sturdy coffee table and matching TV stand that held the biggest flat-screen I’d ever seen. Instead of having a table in the nook, Hayes had set up an L-shaped desk that was covered in paperwork I assumed he brought with him from the station. There were two barstools tucked into the small bar area between the kitchen and living room, and that was it, not that there was much room for anything more. The place was the ultimate bachelor pad.

  Hayes took my purse and coat, tossing them onto the couch before putting his hand to the small of my back and leading me toward the kitchen. “Keep me company while I finish up, yeah?”

  “I can do that.” I hopped up on the barstool and made myself comfortable as he rounded the counter back into the kitchen.

  “You want a beer?”

  Beer wasn’t usually my drink of choice, but seeing as I was a nervous wreck, I’d take it. “Sure.”

  He pulled two bottles out of the six-pack and popped the caps before putting the rest into the fridge. He passed me mine, took a pull of his, and went back to stirring something in a large pot in his stove.

  “So what are you making me?” I asked, taking a sip of my beer. “It smells fantastic.” The air smelled like garlic and herbs, and my stomach let out a happy grumble, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything since that bear claw earlier in the morning.

  “Spaghetti and garlic bread,” he replied.

  “Ooh, yum.” My stomach let out another growl.

  “It was either this or mac and cheese. My skills are limited.”

  My head fell back on a deep laugh. “I thought you said you were a good cook.”

  He gave the sauce a stir and lowered the flame on the burner. “No, I said I could cook. Big difference, babe. I have a few dishes I can make that are edible, but my culinary expertise consists of boiling shit and dumping sauce on top, or grilling. And since it’s fuckin’ freezing outside, the grill wasn’t an option.”

  Then he looked over his shoulder and winked. “I’d have gotten stuff for a salad, but I refuse to spend my hard-earned money on shit rabbits eat.”

  I let out a little laugh and shook my head. “You’re a forty-year-old man, Hayes. I’d think you’d know by now that vegetables are good for you.”
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br />   He chuckled as he moved the pot of noodles to the sink and dumped them into the strainer. “Angel, you wanna cook for me one night and make a salad, I’ll eat it, but I don’t shop for produce. I’m strictly a meat and potatoes kinda guy.”

  My belly somersaulted in excitement at the thought that there may be another opportunity where I could make dinner for him. “Potatoes are in the produce section,” I teased.

  “Not the kind that come in a packet,” he shot back.

  “Oh, gross!”

  We laughed as he plated everything up. The portion he made me was going to be impossible to finish, but it smelled so good that I was willing to give it my best shot. I twirled the noodles around my fork and took a bite, closing my eyes in appreciation before diving back in and sopping up some of the sauce with my garlic bread.

  He ate standing at the counter across from me so we could talk while we enjoyed our food, and I ate until my plate was more than halfway empty and my stomach protested.

  “So how long have you lived here?” I asked as Hayes finished the last bite on his plate.

  “I don’t know,” he answered with a shrug. “About ten years?”

  Ten years? That was unbelievable. The place was so devoid of personality that I’d thought maybe six months to a year, tops. But ten? “Wow. That’s….”

  “That’s what?” he asked, leaned back against the cabinet and crossing his ankles as he finished his beer.

  “Surprising,” I finally answered carefully. The last thing I wanted to do was offend him when we’d been having such a good time. “It doesn’t really seem like you. You never wanted a house? You know, with a nice backyard and deck where you could do all your impressive grilling?” I finished with a smile.

  “Why bother?” he replied with a shrug. “I don’t need all that space for just me. This place might not be the nicest, but it suits me just fine.”

  “You never wanted to get married and start a family?” The words came pouring out of my mouth before I could stop them. I hadn’t even realized that was what I was going to say until I said it, and the moment the question was let loose into the universe, I instantly regretted it. It was as if the part of my brain that stopped me from saying stupid shit had malfunctioned, allowing my mouth to run amuck.

  Hayes’s expression turned to granite, and I knew I’d just fucked up.

  “I did,” he said in a low, ominous tone. “Once.”

  My skin suddenly felt like it was on fire, and I’d have given anything to go back in time and never, ever speak that question out loud.

  A heavy, tense silence filled the room, for several of the longest minutes of my life before I finally couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m finished,” I squeeked, hopping off the barstool and rounding the counter into the kitchen. “Since you did all the cooking, it’s only fair that I clean up.” I grabbed his discarded plate and dumped it into the sink with mine. Turning on the hot water, I took the sponge from the little holder and poured some dish soap onto it.

  “Tempie—” Hayes tried, but I was set in my task of pretending everything was all right and that I hadn’t just screwed up as I started scrubbing away at the dishes.

  “You know, you really shouldn’t use sponges,” I rambled. “They’re a breeding ground for bacteria. They have these little scrubber things at the market. You should get some of those.”

  “Tempie, will you stop and look at me?”

  That was totally out of the question. “And the good thing about those is, if they get really nasty, you can just toss them into your dishwasher and bam! It’s good to go again.”

  “Leave that shit. We need to talk,” he said, growing increasingly agitated.

  “A whole pack of those will last you a while. And they aren’t in the produce section, so your masculinity won’t take a hit,” I joked, growing more manic with each passing second.

  That was when he snapped. “Goddamn it,” Hayes snarled, reaching over and giving the faucet handle a smack to shut it off. “Stop with the fuckin’ dishes and look at me.” With no other choice, I picked up the dishtowel hanging from the handle of the ancient dishwasher and wiped my hands clean as I slowly turned to face him. “You opened that door, babe, so you damn well better be ready to go through it.”

  “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t give a shit what you meant,” he snapped. “It’s happening. We’ll start off with what went down at the diner.” Fuck. “When you left the station, you were gung ho to make me dinner. Then that bitch gets in your face, spouting her bullshit, and it’s like a goddamn wall’s gone up. You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?”

  “It was nothing,” I answered flatly, anger beginning to burn like acid in my belly.

  “That’s bullshit. The two of you’ve been at each other’s throats since we were teenagers. I never brought it up back then ’cause I figured it was just some petty girl shit, but clearly I was wrong if you’re still holdin’ a grudge twenty years later.”

  A bark of sardonic laughter burst from my throat. “Oh, that’s rich.”

  He planted his feet wide and crossed his arms over his chest, barring the only way out of the kitchen so I was stuck in this face-off. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You know exactly what it means,” I spat, drilling my finger into his chest. “She was always hitting on you. Always. She knew we were together, but did that ever stop her? Nooo!” I dragged out sarcastically, lost in my rant. “So you can imagine how fun it was to find out that I left town and you started fucking the one girl I’ve always hated.”

  “First off,” he started, holding up his index finger, “Harley Madison never fuckin’ registered to me when we were in high school. It was only ever you, so if she was hitting on me, I never fucking saw it. ’Cause like I said, it was only ever you. Second,” he continued, his middle finger joining the first, “you lost any and all right to my dick when you tore us apart, so you don’t get to be pissed that I didn’t remain celibate for twenty-one fuckin’ years. I didn’t want that goddamn breakup, you did. I fought as hard as I could to get you back.”

  “Oh please!” I scoffed, my vision growing cloudy with red. “Yeah, you fought so hard, Hayes. Is that why I walked into Parker Wyatt’s party a week after we broke up and found you banging Krista Duke in his parents’ bed?”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he grunted, dragging his hands through his hair. “I was nineteen years old, Tempie! I was a kid. The girl I loved had just broken my entire goddamn world. The family I thought we were gonna start together was gone, and I handled all the shit piling down on me the way any nineteen-year-old would. I went to a party and got shitfaced. I don’t even remember sleeping with Krista Duke.”

  “Is that supposed to make it better?” I clipped as each word from his mouth was a blow to my heart.

  “Whether it does or not doesn’t matter, ’cause like I said before, you ended us.”

  “Because I was sad! Not because I stopped loving you!” I shouted, throwing my arms wide as the dam inside of me burst open. “I was sad and scared. I wanted that baby more than anything, and when I lost it, I didn’t know what to do! All you ever wanted was to be a Marine just like your dad. And he was so damn proud that his son wanted to follow in his footsteps. Then I got pregnant and you shut the door on that future like it was nothing. I’d been selfish enough, letting you do that, but when we lost the baby I knew that was a chance to give you back the future you always wanted, but you wouldn’t do it!” My eyes started to burn and Hayes’s image blurred as tears began welling up. “You were still going to stay. For me. I couldn’t let you do that. You’d given up everything for me already. It was your second chance, and I was going to make damn sure you took it!”

  “That wasn’t your call to make!” he bellowed. “You don’t get to unilaterally decide what’s best for our future.”

  “Yeah, well like you said, I was an eighteen-year-old kid, and I made fucked-up decisions too. I loved you more than life, and
I just wanted to do the right thing!”

  At that declaration, something snapped. Hayes moved quick as lightning, and before I could stagger back, I was in his arms with his lips slamming against mine.

  And just like that, I felt like I was exactly where I was always meant to be.

  Chapter Eleven

  Temperance

  He didn’t start soft and slow like most men might. Hayes kissed me with a ferocity that took my breath away. It was almost like a punishment, as if he were pouring decades’ worth of anger and longing into that one kiss. But I never wanted it to end.

  A greedy moan worked its way from my chest as I fisted my fingers in the fabric of his shirt and lifted on my toes in an effort to get closer. I needed more. I needed everything, and I needed it right freaking now.

  My tongue slid out, brushing against Hayes’s bottom lip and making him growl before he opened for me. The moment he did, I dove inside, melting deeper against him as the kiss intensified.

  “Hayes,” I breathed when he tore his mouth from mine and started trailing his lips along my jaw and down my neck. A shiver racked my body when he hit that spot beneath my ear that always drove me crazy. I let out a groan and tilted my head to give him better access. “Baby.”

  One of his arms wrapped around my back, pulling my body flush against his from hips to chest, and I could feel his erection hard as steel against my belly. And god, I wanted it. So damn much.

  Pulling from his hold, I started to lower to my knees only to have him reach down and jerk me back up.

  “Please,” I begged, looking up into those dark eyes.

  His voice was craggy and abrasive as he grunted, “You wanna suck me off, believe me, I’m all fuckin’ for that. But you don’t get on your knees on my shitty kitchen floor.” He grabbed hold of me and I did a little hop, wrapping my legs around his waist and resuming our heated kiss as he started for the bedroom.

 

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