“What are you saying, baby girl?” her mom asked.
She’d been over this a thousand times while she’d lain there in that bed. From the moment she’d been able to hold a comprehensible thought, she’d gone over and over the moment when she’d picked up that freaking fork and taken a bite.
“Stella brought me silverware. I unrolled it and put the fork and spoon and knife aside. I got up to go to the bathroom. I talked to Hope and Beth. I came back and my fork was right where I’d left it. Except it wasn’t mine. Mom, seriously? Do I go around picking up other people’s forks?”
Naomi answered that one. “You try to clean the ones they bring you in restaurants. I’ll admit, it can be embarrassing at times.”
For once her clean-freak status was a plus. Oh, it had failed her, but only because that weasel, tiny dicked, no balls ex of hers had played her properly. “I know how Stella cleans her dishes. I tested the temperature of the dishwater. Ten percent above health code. I feel comfortable eating at Stella’s.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying, baby.” Jesse’s tone had changed to what she’d begun to think of as his About to Kick Some Ass voice. It was a slightly less sexy version of his About to Spank Your Ass voice, though she still found it awfully arousing.
“I’m saying Patrick got rid of the fork Stella gave me and put his where I would think it was mine.”
She could practically feel him vibrating with rage. If she’d thought for a single moment that this was all some sort of a fun game for Jesse McCann, those ideas were gone. He really did give a shit about her. He’d been pissed at his best friend when Cade hadn’t behaved the way he thought he should. He’d stayed with her, apparently choosing a rousing night at the hospital over getting his best friend out of jail.
She’d come between them, but in the best way. Not the best way. The best way would be sexually, but they both cared about her. They just didn’t see eye to eye on how they should go about it.
She needed rules. God, she fucking loved rules. Well, the ones she made, anyway. “Rule number one—always make bail.”
“What?” Jesse asked.
“We have rules for this relationship. You taught me that. You want me to be your woman? Well, I like rules and lists and matrices. If we live together, you better get used to a whole lot of whiteboards.”
“She’s not kidding,” her mother said with a laugh. “She made me get her one when she was eight years old and trying to figure out what pet to get. Her father and I watched in utter horror as she made pros and cons columns and then decided after ten days of deliberation that she wanted a houseplant.”
She’d been a mystery to her freewheeling hippie parents. She was cautious, unsure. She wanted the world to give her a money-back guarantee on life, but she was rapidly discovering that nothing worked that way—and it was okay. It was fucking okay to make mistakes and need a damn do over. It was okay to not be one hundred percent sure that she was on the right path.
Gemma sat back, a single moment of her life crystalizing in an instant.
She was twelve and her father was dying. She remembered how cold the hospital was, but she couldn’t leave because this was her home now. Two weeks she’d spent as he choked and gasped his life away. Her mother had never faltered. She’d tried to send Gemma off, but she couldn’t go. What if he died and she wasn’t there?
She’d stood on a step stool and looked down at him, and he’d said three words to her.
Live. Live. Live.
She’d thought he was too far gone and didn’t know what he’d been saying. She’d thought he was telling her what he wanted. That he wanted to live.
He’d been begging her. He’d been pleading with his too-intellectual daughter.
Live. Live. Live.
For so long she’d clung to that vision of her father, a dying man, holding on to something far gone. It had influenced her life, driving her to goals that had nothing to do with emotion. Her life had been a checklist, devoid of true passion. Absent of feeling. As she’d lain there clutching Cade’s hand and praying for Jesse to come, she’d understood what her father had meant.
Live. Live. Live.
She’d pursued wealth and cultivated ambition. But she knew what she wanted now. And she knew something else. She was Gemma Wells. And she would get it. Come hell or high water. She wanted Jesse McCann and Cade Sinclair, and she wanted to practice law in Bliss, Colorado, where they had an actual injunction against lawyers.
And that wouldn’t stop her.
“Baby, are you sure?”
Gemma knew he was asking about whether or not her small-penised, couldn’t-please-a-woman-if-someone-gave-him-a-road map-to-her-clitoris ex had actually intended to kill her, but she meant something else. “Yes. I’m sure.”
There would be no more New York. No big city to conquer. Just Bliss. But she would find her place. She would build her home with a single-minded passion that had been lacking for years.
“Take me to Cade.”
* * * *
Cade started when the door opened. He’d been sitting there for so fucking long, he’d kind of expected no one would ever show up. But the door opened and Gemma walked through, her blonde hair swaying around her shoulders.
“There you are.” It wasn’t the greeting he’d expected. She sighed and her eyes narrowed, but there wasn’t any anger in her gaze. There was a soft satisfaction there. “I thought you were still in jail, but the Creede boys said you had been gone for a while. I was going to wake up Nate when I saw your bike outside.”
He stood, looking around the cabin. He’d cleaned. Though she kept the place precision perfect neat, she sometimes forgot to dust. He’d stocked the fridge. He couldn’t stand the thought of her having nothing to eat. He’d busied himself when he should have had the courage to go to the hospital and tell her good-bye. “They let me go. Your ex pissed off Stef Talbot and everyone decided to leave well enough alone.”
Jesse’s eyes became hard. “Where did that little fucker get to?”
He wished he knew. “I’m not sure. Nate warned me to leave him alone.”
“Nate can bite my ass,” Jesse said on a growl.
Gemma sent Jesse a nasty look. “You promised.”
The grin that lit Jesse’s face was perfectly feral. “Only for tonight. Tomorrow, he’s mine.”
Cade wasn’t sure what that was about. Now that Gemma was all right, it seemed like Jesse wanted a piece of Patrick. And it was Jesse’s right. Gemma belonged to him.
Gemma. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The last time he’d seen her, she’d looked like she was close to death. Now she merely looked tired. He would never be able to forget that she was fragile. No matter how much of a force of nature Gemma appeared to be, she was only a woman at heart, and she was as fragile as the other women in his life had been.
He should have left, gotten on his bike and fled the fucking scene of the crime. He’d stayed because he couldn’t leave without making sure she was all right. He’d spent hours cooking for her, making sure that at least she would be well fed. The truth was he’d stayed because he needed to face her. He wanted to see that she’d finally realized what a bastard he was and then he would be able to go knowing she wouldn’t feel bad about losing him. Then he could get on his bike and leave forever. He wouldn’t look back. He would know that Jesse would take care of her, and he could drink and party himself to the death he deserved.
Except she walked right up to him and wrapped her damn arms around him, snuggling her head against his chest. “When they told me you’d been arrested, I was so worried about you.”
Worried about him? She was the one who’d almost died. And he didn’t understand a Gemma who didn’t spit and claw like a riled-up cat. Shouldn’t she be mad? “Are you okay? What did the doctors say?”
Jesse moved behind Gemma, his eyes finding Cade’s. He frowned, but Cade couldn’t tell what was going through his head.
“I’m fine. Mom and Naomi drove me home, but we
went to the station first,” she explained. “They told us that you were cleared and Pat was gone. That part is over. But we need to figure out why my sad-sack, scared of his own shadow ex would try to kill me. I don’t want to do that tonight, though.
He stopped. “Kill you? I thought it was an accident.”
Her chin came up. “Do you honestly believe I would steal his fork?”
Gemma had some OCD tendencies. When he’d cooked what seemed like a week’s worth of food earlier, he’d made damn sure every single dish was sparkling clean. She might not dust the bookshelves, but her kitchenware was immaculate. Even when she never used it. She wouldn’t drink after another person. She damn straight wouldn’t steal a fork.
She sighed. “There it is. Did you know you get this tic over your right eye when you get mad?” Her fingers brushed the place, as though trying to soothe him.
“I never had it before I met you.” She’d given him a damn tic. And it wasn’t only when he was mad, though he was pretty freaking mad right now. Before he went off to drink himself to death, he would find that fucker, force a goddamn fork into some soft part of him, and then the asshole would know how wrong it had been to mess with Cade Sinclair’s girl.
Because even though he was leaving, she would always be his girl.
“Stop. I know what you’re thinking, but this is going to require more thought than beating the crap out of him.” She pulled away. “I don’t want to think about Pat anymore tonight. I want you to come outside with me.” She pulled on his hand, and he wondered if she hadn’t been damaged by the whole poisoning by strawberry incident.
She grasped his hand, tugging him out.
“Gemma, baby, I need to talk to you before I go.” He had a few things to say to her and then he would leave her to Jesse.
She utterly ignored him, walking toward her front door.
Cade looked at Jesse. “What’s going on?”
“No idea, but I’m going with it.” Jesse followed them out the door. “Gemma and I have completely different ideas on how you should behave when someone tries to kill her.”
Cade tried to stop. “I still don’t completely understand that.”
“She’ll explain it later.” Jesse followed them. “She’s not big on vigilantism. I already tried. Tonight, we need to let it be. Tomorrow we can talk, brother.”
The fact that Jesse was still calling him brother gave him a deep sense of peace. It didn’t change what he needed to do, but he felt better about it. Jesse had done the right thing. Cade had lost it, proving once again that he didn’t deserve joy and happiness.
Jesse continued, “Tonight, just follow her. She’s made some crazy breakthrough. I would spank her ass, but I can’t fucking Dom her tonight. I want to hold her tonight. I want to think we can work.”
She kept pulling at him, drawing him out. He should pull away, but he couldn’t let her hand go. He knew he should, but he held her tighter as she walked on to her porch and then to the grass. She turned the porch light off, sending the entire yard into complete gloom. Darkness pervaded and still he followed her.
“Look up.” Her voice led his way through the dark.
He pulled back, trying to get her to stop. They needed to talk. He needed to explain to her why he should leave. It was the only thing to do. He would get on his bike and head out, leaving her to Jesse, who could love her with a whole heart and no crazy fucking violent rage between them.
She let go of his hand, the loss of her warmth a deep sadness in his soul. She walked away from him, turned and laid her body down on the grass, her face up to the sky. A look of wonder crossed her face. “Look up. I never look up. I wouldn’t think to. Up didn’t matter, but look at it. Tell me that doesn’t matter. Tell me that is meaningless.”
She might have gone over the edge. Gemma almost always rode that fine line between perfectly normal and neurotic nut job, and nearly dying seemed to have pushed her over.
His eyes had adjusted and he looked down at her. “Gemma, baby, I only hung around so I could make sure you were okay. I need to go. I’m not good for you.”
But she was staring up. Jesse got to the ground and lay down beside her in the grass. A chill ran across his skin. It was damn cold, and she’d been sick and she was lying in the grass in the middle of the night.
“You can leave tomorrow,” she said, a smile on her face. “Please stay with me tonight. Come on, Cade. I want one night. I want you to lie down and look up with me.”
Frustration welled. Stay with her? Didn’t she know how hard it was to leave her? Couldn’t she see that the last few hours had been a living hell? He wanted to get it over with, to move on with his life. But he couldn’t deny her. He couldn’t look at those big, bright eyes and get on his bike and drive off. He sighed and gave in, getting to his knees and sinking down on his back beside her.
And he saw what she was talking about. A million stars blanketed the sky, brighter than anything he’d seen. They twinkled and winked like diamonds. He found himself staring up, wondering how he’d never seen it before.
The night was soft, a blanket cradling the earth.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Gemma’s voice was a contented sigh. She reached out, linking her hand to his, pulling it over her heart. He felt another hand there. Jesse’s. She held both hands over her heart.
“Of course it’s beautiful. It’s Colorado. Do either of you look around?” Jesse grumbled but Cade could feel him clutching Gemma’s hand. “Am I the only one who smells the freaking roses? Gemma, you’ve got to spend the next couple of days resting, and I’m going to make sure you really look around and see the place we’ve been blessed with.”
Jesse was right. Cade didn’t look around. He didn’t stop and stare at the beauty around him. During the day he worked, and at night he partied. He hadn’t spent a ton of time looking around at the mountains and the stars above. In many ways, he’d been as single minded as Gemma, focusing on how to have fun and keep the ghosts at bay.
He looked back up at those night lights. Millions of miles away. Some were dead already, their light a mere beacon, proof that once the star had lived. Some still thriving suns. Those stars were always there, always above him, but the harsh light of the sun masked their existence. In the city, they were tiny, insignificant things, covered up by human lights, but here he could see the infinite.
He stared up. It should make him feel small, but somehow, with Gemma’s hand in his, those stars above gave him comfort.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked again.
Cade turned his head. He could see Gemma’s face, the curve of her cheek, the stubborn tilt of her chin. He rolled toward her. The stars were beautiful, but she was gorgeous. He laid his head close to her shoulder and let himself be still for a moment.
“It’s stunning,” he replied.
One more night. He could handle one more night. And then he would go. He was still bad for her.
But for tonight, he would rest and watch the stars.
Chapter Sixteen
Three days later, Cade had no damn idea what he was doing.
Oh, he was replacing Mel’s ancient artifact of an alternator. It had blown due to its extensive old age and not, as Mel had claimed, because of alien vibrations from its recent abduction. This time, he claimed, they had taken his whole 1972 Ford pickup truck. He’d left it at Beaver Creek when he’d gone on a fishing trip. The next morning, he’d told the sheriff aliens had taken his truck. They’d done an exhaustive search and the truck had turned up later that day in the woods near Mel’s cave.
Mel was certain that the aliens were now abducting precious vehicles, but Cade kind of thought Mel needed to lay off the “special” tonic he took when he was fishing. It was rotgut whiskey. Cade had tried it once, and he hadn’t remembered where he’d left his car either.
No, he totally knew what he was doing with the truck. Gemma was another story altogether.
“I’m going on a run into Alamosa,” Jesse said, picking up his helmet.
“You call if you find anything.”
Jesse nodded, palming his keys. “Let Roger know where I’ve gone. I’ll pick up the new parts to the snowmobile on my way back. And I promise, I’m only looking. If I find the fucker, I’ll let you know.”
Patrick. He’d disappeared the night of Gemma’s accident, and they couldn’t find him. Nate claimed he didn’t have enough evidence to put out an APB. They were stuck in limbo until they tracked him down.
Limbo. That was exactly where he was. He should be halfway to California, but Gemma had changed tactics and he had no idea how to handle her.
“I’m taking Princess Two to the dog park,” Roger said, walking out with his baby thing in his arms. He’d dressed the dog today. In deference to the coming winter, Princess Two had on a pink and white sweater. “And then we’re going to have a nice lunch at Stella’s. Yes, we are. Yes, we are. Is Jesse picking up the snowmobile parts?”
“Yep. We’ll have them this afternoon.”
“Good.” Roger was almost out the door when it opened. “Well, hello Miss Gemma. You are looking mighty healthy. Princess and I were real upset to hear about your trouble. Weren’t you, girl?”
Princess answered with a weird howling sound.
Gemma stood in the doorway wearing jeans and a light V-neck sweater that showed off the beginnings of the slopes of her breasts. The jeans hugged her hips, nipped in at her waist. The sunlight came through illuminating her hourglass figure. Cade had been stuffing her every chance he got, feeding her to make up for years and years of harsh diets, and those curves were finally filling out. She looked soft, healthy, and so fuckable his dick threatened to burst free and make a run for her.
Two days of cuddling that sweet body and not sinking in were taking their toll.
Of course, if he’d had his way, he would be on the road and not forced to look at what he couldn’t have again.
She talked to Roger for a moment and then he left, the door closing behind him. Cade was all alone with Gemma.
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