by Morgan Blaze
Jason scrambled upright and glared at her. “Where the hell is he?”
“He was never here!” The lie felt awful, but it was the only way to shame her brother into calming down. “You’ve had way too much to drink, and it’s a weeknight,” she said. “You’re being completely irresponsible. Dad would kill you if he knew—”
“Dad doesn’t give a shit what I do!”
There was genuine pain in his tone, and for the first time she considered what it must have been like for him while she was gone. Under their father’s thumb, steeped in the poison of misdirected hatred and never able to let go—because the objects of that hatred had never left, either. She’d escaped it all, and from his perception, she’d come back completely twisted around and insistent on befriending the enemy.
Suddenly she saw how ugly everything was through her brother’s eyes, and her heart broke for him.
“Come on,” she said gently, putting an arm around his waist. “Let me take you home.”
He blinked at her, stiffened for a moment, and finally allowed himself to be led. “I’m sorry, Bree,” he said in thick tones. “Wouldn’t hurt you. Won’t let anyone…hurt you.”
“I know.” Her throat tightened around the words. “I’m okay. Promise.”
It took a good ten minutes to get him down the stairs and outside. By then, Mark’s car was gone, and a deep twinge of sorrow twisted her gut.
Mark had been right the first time. The two of them just couldn’t happen.
Chapter 11
Aubrey showed up on time for work the next morning, not sure what to expect. What happened was a lot of nothing—because Mark seemed to have reverted to ignoring her.
She supposed she couldn’t really blame him, but that didn’t stop it from hurting.
For most of the morning, everyone was busy overseeing deliveries. Aubrey stayed in the trailer and half-watched the activities, wondering if she should really try to go through this for weeks, or months. She never should’ve accepted this job in the first place. At the least, when she realized who was running this show, she should’ve turned around and walked away. Saved herself the trouble.
But she never suspected it would go this far.
She looked out the window and saw Mark approaching the trailer, glancing around as he walked. Maybe she should just leave. Tell him that he was right, things weren’t going to work out—personally or professionally. She’d gotten as far as standing when he came in.
He barely looked at her as he closed the door. She thought about clearing her throat, starting with an apology, asking him why he’d decided she didn’t exist. If he was mad at her, she’d rather hear it than guess.
Before she could do any of those things, he backed her against the wall and kissed her senseless.
He drew back a fraction. “Hey,” he drawled, flashing a crooked smile.
“Um. Hi.” She couldn’t help returning the expression. “So I guess you’re not mad?”
“Not at you.”
The vice around her heart eased a little. “I’m really sorry about Jason,” she said.
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t help it,” she said. “Sneaking around with you, it’s not fair. I don’t like doing it. But if I don’t—”
“Then we’re both in trouble. I get it…I really do.” That heart-stopping smile returned. “Besides, that was kind of fun. It’s been a long time since I ducked out of a bedroom window.”
“Really.” She arched a teasing eyebrow. “How many other bedroom windows have you ducked out of?”
“A few.”
“Anyone I know?”
Instead of answering, he grinned and kissed her again. “Doesn’t matter now,” he said. “I prefer yours.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’ve got a fire escape.”
Just then the door latch clicked, and Mark stepped back from her fast. Frustration flooded her as she tried to compose herself. Was this really all they could ever have—stolen moments and bedroom windows?
“Hey, boss.” Gage walked in without looking around much, obviously expecting Mark at the desk. “What do you want me to do with…oh. Er. Hi, Aubrey,” he said. “Didn’t even know you were here today.”
“You were saying?” Mark said drily.
Gage stared at him a moment. “Invoices,” he said, holding up a handful of paper slips. “Where do you want them?”
“Desk. Thanks.”
“Okay, then.” He dropped the pile on the desk. “Am I interrupting something here?”
“Goodbye, Gage.”
Instead of leaving, Gage glanced from one to the other, and a slow smile spread on his face. “Holy sh—uh, crap,” he said. “I did interrupt something.”
“Gage.” There was no mistaking the warning in Mark’s tone. “Get back to work. Now.”
“All right.” He held his hands up in mock surrender and backed toward the door. “It’s just nice that you’ve finally managed to get that stick out. Can I keep it? I want it framed.”
Mark took a step toward him. Grinning, Gage fled the trailer.
When he was gone, Mark let out a sigh. “Just ignore him,” he said. “Gage’s mission in life is to make me do ridiculous things, so he doesn’t look like such an idiot. He claims I don’t have enough fun.”
The remark reminded her of the overheard conversation with Jonah, who clearly felt the same as their youngest brother. “Well, do you?” she said.
“Do I what?”
“Have enough fun.”
He scowled. “Of course I do.”
“When’s the last time you did something fun?”
A wicked grin crossed his lips. “Last night.”
“Before that,” she said quickly as the memory heated her face. “And your couch doesn’t count, either.”
“Fine. It was…” He trailed off, and his brow furrowed. “Um.”
“You’ve got nothing.”
“I do have fun.” He frowned slightly. “A couple of weeks ago, I redesigned all my spreadsheets. With color shading.”
“And that’s your idea of fun?”
Anger flashed briefly in his eyes, but he controlled it. “What should I be doing, then?”
“First, let me ask you something,” she said. “What changed your mind?”
“About…”
“Us. You being okay with me, at least when nobody else is around.”
For a minute she thought he wouldn’t answer. At last he said, “I’m not sure. I guess I just can’t keep hating you. I can’t change anything, and I can’t stay away.” He offered a sad smile. “So I’ll take what I can get…for as long as you’ll let me.”
She nodded slowly. Maybe it was better than nothing, keeping whatever they had a secret—at least for now. And if they were going to sneak around, they might as well have some fun with it. “All right,” she said. “I have an idea.”
He gave her a suspicious look.
“Trust me.” She’d seen some loose leaf paper in the desk somewhere. She opened drawers until she found it, took out a sheet and grabbed a pen, then started writing.
“What are you doing?” Mark said, trying to look over her shoulder.
She shifted to block his view. “Something fun.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive.” She finished the note, folded it, and wrote For Your Eyes Only on the outside. She debated adding a little heart, but that might be too cheesy. Grinning, she turned and took his hand, and pressed the note into it. “Don’t read it yet,” she said in a stage whisper. “Wait until you’re alone.”
“Passing notes?” he said. “We do have cell phones, you know. We could just text.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“Right. Fun.”
“That’s what it’s all about.” She made a show of looking around furtively, and then kissed him. “Now go, before we get caught.”
“Oh, man. I thought I was done with high
school.” He smiled a bit as he slid the note into a pocket. “All right. I’m going.”
“See you later.”
He left the trailer, and Aubrey stood there a moment with her eyes closed, trying to convince herself this would work. It had to, because they didn’t have another choice. It would take a miracle for her family to even speak to a Dawson like a normal person, much less accept her being with Mark.
But she already knew that she couldn’t be without him.
* * * *
The day went by faster than Mark expected. By the end of work, they’d made up the lost ground and the shell was nearing completion. The budget had been knocked up by a few thousand, but it wasn’t a critical loss—yet. If it happened again, they’d be screwed.
He’d barely seen Aubrey, which was probably a good thing. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. Especially after last night. Being with her like that, without the anger and judgment and all the baggage both of their families came with, was the closest he’d ever gotten to happiness. For the first time since he was a kid, he’d actually felt…good. He hadn’t wanted to fight something. Not even Jason Monroe.
It was just too risky to share with anyone else. He wasn’t even sure how Jonah felt about her—his brother had been sending a lot of mixed signals lately. But he couldn’t keep kidding himself about Aubrey.
He needed her.
She’d left a bit earlier than everyone else, but he managed to catch her alone to say goodbye. In a way that left him aching for more. He promised to read her note tonight, and grudgingly agreed to write back. The whole note thing felt ridiculous. But he had to admit that it was kind of sweet, too. He’d never been the note-passing type in high school. Most of his experiences were meetings around the back—making out or fighting, it didn’t matter which. Aubrey ran with a completely different crowd.
His crowd had mostly consisted of himself.
When he got home, Gage was already gone to Kyla’s place and Jonah was in the shower. Luka practically lived with Reese these days. Mark headed for the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and sat down to read the stupid note. It was just four lines:
Will you meet me on the playground?
Tomorrow night, midnight.
Don’t tell anyone!
From your secret admirer
“The playground,” he murmured aloud, cracking the beer open. “Seriously?” He knew where she meant. All three of Covendale’s schools—elementary, middle, and high school—were situated around a huge field with a central playground that also served as the town park in the summer. He had no idea why she’d want to go there, but it didn’t sound like much fun to him.
Just as he was refolding the note, Jonah came in and made a beeline for the fridge. But instead of a beer, he took out a bottle of water. That meant he was working tonight. His second job was taking up a hell of a lot of time lately, and Mark worried that Verona might be pushing for something big. Now wasn’t the time to mention it, though—Jonah refused to discuss the loan shark when he was headed to meet him.
“Staying home again?” Jonah said, turning to lean on the fridge.
Mark shrugged. “No plans here.”
“Maybe you should make some.”
“Nah. I’m good.”
Jonah walked over and took a seat at the table across from him. “Gage seems to think you’re taking a little personal time on the clock,” he said.
“Of course he does,” Mark practically groaned. “And of course he’d tell you that.”
“Might not be a bad idea.”
“Come again?”
“I see how you look at her,” Jonah said. “The Monroe girl, I mean. You’ve got it bad.”
Mark snorted. “Even if I did, she’s—”
“Not so bad, really.” Jonah took a swig of water. “I saw her the other day, helping Reese out with the mess her family made. Ran into the sheriff, too. He was real put out that he had to investigate properly, and actually question the Monroes, because she said so.”
“And Sheriff Tanner told you all that.”
“More or less. He wasn’t too polite about it, though.” Jonah cracked a smile. “Anyway, she might be good for you.”
“Christ, Jonah, don’t you do this to me.” Mark glared at the table, and eventually managed to relax enough not to shout. “Look, I’m glad to know you don’t hate her,” he said. “We’re kind of…hell, I don’t know what we are. Speaking to each other.” And having incredible sex, but he wasn’t sharing that with his brother. “But it can’t go any further, and you know it.”
“Further than what?”
He sighed. “For one thing, she wants to have fun.”
“Then she’s definitely good for you.”
“Come on, man,” he said. “You know how I feel about that.”
Jonah gave him a serious look. “Actually, I don’t,” he said. “But I’d love to know why you think all work and no play is the best way to live.”
“Forget it. I’m not having a heart-to-heart with you,” he said. “I’m not nearly drunk enough.”
“Spill it, or I’ll beat it out of you.”
“I’m a goddamned adult, Jonah!” he snapped. “I’ve got responsibilities. A company to run. I don’t have time for fun.”
“And?”
His jaw clenched hard. “And the last time I was out having fun, Mom died. Okay? So don’t tell me I need to relax.” He closed his eyes. “I never should have gone to that party. If I’d been there…”
“Then what? She would’ve lived longer?” Jonah said. “You’re an idiot.”
“What?”
“Don’t look so damned butt-hurt.” Jonah stared at him unblinking. “Mom had cancer,” he said. “She got sick. She died. And it was not your fault. Understand?”
Fresh anger coursed through him, and he barely held it in check. “It was my fault I wasn’t there,” he said. “I knew she was dying.”
“So you should’ve hung around and watched her die. Is that it? Because that’s the last thing she wanted.” Jonah leaned toward him. “She wanted you—all of us—to live. But you stopped doing that years ago. It’s high time you started again.”
Mark shuddered inwardly. “Honestly…I don’t know how.”
“You can start by having fun with that girl.” Jonah pushed back from the table with a faint smile. “Gotta run,” he said. “Don’t wait up.”
“Yeah. Watch your back, bro.”
“You know it.”
“And Jonah…thanks.”
His brother nodded and left.
Mark sat there for a long moment, the beer forgotten. He’d never thought about it that way—but Jonah was right. Mom wouldn’t have wanted any of them to watch her die. So maybe what he’d done wasn’t so unforgiveable after all, and it might have even led to something good. If he hadn’t kissed Aubrey for the first time back then, he never would have. And they wouldn’t have this…thing. For what it was worth.
Eventually he got up to hunt down a piece of paper. After all, he’d promised to write back.
Chapter 12
It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now Aubrey wasn’t so sure. She felt a little silly hanging around the playground in the middle of the night. Okay, a lot silly. Plus it was almost midnight, and Mark still hadn’t shown.
Today had been another busy day at work, since the crew was doing extra so they could have Saturday off. She and Mark had spoken all of twice—well, technically once. The second time he’d just pressed a folded piece of paper into her hand without a word. He looked a little embarrassed, and completely adorable. When she opened the note to read it, she had to smile.
All it said was: I’ll be there.
She figured he wasn’t much of a note writer. But at least he was making an effort—or would be, if he actually got here.
Right at midnight, a figure strode across the darkened field toward the lit playground, hands in his pockets. She waited until he reached her, and said, “You made it.”
She laughed. “You’re just bigger.”
“I guess.” He wore a dubious expression. “So what are we doing here?”
“Having fun. Remember?”
“Right. How do we have fun?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “What did you used to do on the playground?”
He smiled crookedly. “Nothing. I was usually in time-out or detention.”
“Oh. Well.” She took his hand on impulse, and it felt so right that she left it there. “I always loved to swing,” she said. “Want to?”
“I guess.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
That wrung a smile from him. “I’ll try to tone it down.”
“Good.” She led him over to the big metal swing set—two sections, three swings each. “I remember, me and Beth always fought over the middle ones,” she said. “They go the highest. Mind if I take the middle?”
“Knock yourself out.”
She settled on the flexible seat, feeling the momentary bite of cold rubber through her jeans. Mark hesitated before taking the swing to her left. “This’ll be great,” she said. “I used to stay on these things until I was dizzy. It’s like being drunk without the hangover.”
“Huh,” Mark said. “I hope you didn’t know that when you were eight.”
“No,” she laughed. “But I know it’s fun. Ready?”
“Sure.”
“Let’s go!”
It only took Aubrey a minute to remember the rhythm of pumping and leaning, going with the force to push the swing higher. Soon she was soaring, the wind rushing her face as she headed forward, and the delicious swoop of dropping back weightless, feeling like you’d hit the ground before momentum carried the swing to the height of the arc. It was every bit as fun as she remembered.
Then she realized Mark was just sitting there, watching her.