Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty)

by Lakes, Krista

  The frame with the strip of pictures sat on Grandma’s table by her bed. She lifted it up, rolling onto her back to peer at it. Dane stared at her, but in the black-and-white version, she still couldn’t see the color of his eyes. Two weeks. She’d only been with him two weeks. How many times had she even seen him in that time?

  She sat up and grabbed the order pad from the apron she’d forgotten to take off the night before. She made a list.

  Good Scents

  Garage

  Car delivered

  Tower (!)

  When he got cut (!)

  Meeting Grandma

  She paused. Grandma had met him. They’d made the bracelet together. She picked up the triple strand from the table. Dane’s beads, the earth tones for his gentle side. But then the bright-orange bones. His danger strand. Seems like that should have been her warning.

  She dropped her legs over the side of the bed. She tore the partial list of their time together off the pad and laid it on top of the frame. Then she placed the bracelet on top of that. She was wearing the Show-Me State shirt, so she pulled it over her head and folded it around the bundle. Everything they ever had together was in this one meager pile. Dane was right. It wasn’t enough. Not for twelve years.

  She opened the drawer of Grandma’s table, the one that had secretly held Joe’s bracelet all those years. She stuffed the things inside and forced it closed.

  She was done.

  45

  Unexpected Guest

  February 1985

  Three months later

  STELLA burst through the doors at the Sinners’ Cafe. She was late.

  “Corgie’s fit to be tied,” Cayenne warned.

  “I couldn’t care less,” Stella said. She had four months of perfect attendance at this hellhole. He could stuff it.

  She flashed a smile at a group of college boys. Valentine’s Day was tomorrow, and she had no intention of spending it alone. Jefferson City was starting to feel like home, and although she should get off her butt and find a better job, she’d begun to think of Rennie as a mother, Corgie as some incorrigible uncle, and Cayenne as the bitchy sister she couldn’t stand but missed when she wasn’t around.

  And the boys were plentiful. She didn’t have her old spark, but months of difficulty had kept her lean, and her long blond hair, now almost to her waist and ironed straight, got her the attention she needed when she felt particularly blue.

  She hurried back to snag her apron and dump her jacket and purse. Corgie stepped in front of her.

  “Oh, stuff it,” she said. “I’m not even ten minutes late.”

  “You got visitors.”

  Stella turned back to the red doors, still swinging. “Really? I didn’t see anyone I would know.”

  “Said you wouldn’t recognize them. A couple. All dressed up, like a funeral or something. You’ll see them.” He waved a spatula at her. “And don’t make this a habit.”

  “Visitors?” Stella stuffed her things on the shelf and snatched up the apron.

  “Being late.”

  Stella shrugged. She was more interested in the table of college boys than the visitors. The last man who had interested her had lasted only three dates, and they’d never even gotten in the sack. Like the rest of them, no fireworks, no go. She was reconciled that what she felt with Dane wasn’t going to be easy to replace, and so she avoided entanglements. The five men in her life these past three months since Dane’s letter had lasted no more than a week. But Valentine’s Day was different. She’d put a rush order on this one. She hadn’t had any real action since the day before Dane’s arrest.

  And a table full of prime suspects had just arrived.

  Cayenne already had them cornered, but Stella could stop by anyway. There were plenty to choose from.

  The couple Corgie was talking about sat in the back booth. The man was tall and straight-backed, with wiry gray hair, his black suit well fitted. The woman had a kind face, sort of church-ladyish, and a bun the size of a beehive on her head. Stella decided to get this part over with.

  But when she got near the table, the man turned his face to her and she stopped short. He was Dane all over again, albeit older. That same nose the brothers had shared. And his hands. They rested on the table, and Stella’s knees wobbled. His hands were most certainly Dane’s.

  The man stood. “You must be Stella.” His eyes fixed on her, sparkly and gray. Gray! Dane’s eyes had been gray!

  She didn’t extend a hand, shocked as she was, but he reached for her and took it. “You are as beautiful as Joe said.”

  “Joe?” She managed to choke out the name.

  “Dane’s old boss. He told us how to find you.”

  “You’re Dane’s—”

  “Father. I’m Bud Scoffield.” He walked her closer to the table. “And this is my wife Clarice. Dane’s stepmother, although he’s never met her.”

  Clarice took Stella’s hand from Bud and grasped it firmly between her own. “Stella, I’m so glad to know you. Joe told us how you’d moved here to be near Dane. What devotion.” She pulled Stella to sit in the booth beside her.

  Stella could hear the boys laughing, flirting with Cayenne, and her face flushed. “I haven’t seen him in three months,” she said.

  “Oh, I know,” Clarice said. “They suspended his visitation. We hired a lawyer for him. It’s been reinstated. They had video surveillance. The whole thing was really just a misunderstanding.”

  “But Dane did push the guy.” Stella had been there. She knew what happened.

  Bud sat down opposite them. “They overreacted.”

  “So,” Clarice said. “We have a wonderful surprise.” She glanced over at Bud. “Shall you tell her, or shall I?”

  Stella wanted to escape. She didn’t know these people. And obviously they didn’t know Dane.

  “You do it, sweetheart.”

  Clarice still held firm on Stella’s hand. “We talked to Dane’s caseworker, Maggie. In light of his wrongful suspension and the fact that tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, we got him a special dispensation to have a visitor tomorrow evening.”

  Bud leaned forward. “Normally it’s only for the married inmates, but we convinced them you were close enough.”

  Stella pulled her hand from Clarice. “But—you don’t know me.”

  “Joe told us all about you,” Clarice said. “He clearly adores you.”

  “Have you talked to Dane? Have you seen him?”

  Both Bud and Clarice looked down at the table.

  “You haven’t!” Stella slid away from Clarice. “He asked me not to come anymore. How can I go see him?”

  Bud rubbed his temple. “We only wanted to help. Of course you shouldn’t see him if you don’t feel like you should.”

  They both looked so disappointed that Stella could hardly stand it. They certainly weren’t pushy. Dane obviously got a lot of temperament from his father, even if he hadn’t been raised by him. She remembered Dane on the tower and his willingness to back away. Stella flooded with heat just remembering how he’d come up behind her, how powerful that had been. Suddenly the partial list in her drawer called to her. She wanted to finish it, to remember everything. “I’ll go,” she said. “I’ll see him.”

  The couple smiled so broadly that Stella couldn’t help but be happy for them. Clarice pulled a form from her purse. “Here’s the special paperwork. It will get you in. Tomorrow at seven.”

  Stella was glad she had traded Rennie for the night off. The older waitress had readily agreed, saying the young pups needed that day, not the old cows like her. She glanced over at the boys, all gazing up at Cayenne. She’d be spending her evening at the State Pen.

  “One thing,” Clarice said.

  Stella stiffened. She’d figured there would be strings attached.

  “Ryker isn’t on the list yet,” Clarice said. “Dane has to initiate the forms.”

  “Ryker? Where is he?” God, she’d love to see him.

  “Back in Texas. But
he’s willing to come up.”

  “Have you talked to him, then?”

  Bud cleared his throat. “He won’t speak to me. But we tracked him down. If you give Dane his address, he can send a form to him to visit.”

  That Stella could do. “I will.”

  Clarice pointed to the paper. “And this is our address here in Jefferson City. We’re going to stay around a little while, to see if Dane will be willing to see Bud.” She squeezed Stella’s hand. “Don’t worry about putting in a good word or anything. Bud has been writing Dane, trying to soften him up.”

  “Has he written back?” Stella suddenly hungered for news of him, proof that he was okay.

  Bud shook his head. “No. I’m not sure he even reads them. He has cause to hate me. But I did get clearance to visit him, if he’ll just send me the form. Wasn’t easy.” He grimaced at Clarice.

  “What? Why?” Stella looked between them. They were hiding something.

  “Dane didn’t know that the reason his father didn’t contact him all those years was—” Clarice faltered. “He was in prison himself.”

  Stella shot out of the booth. “What? Does it run in the family?”

  Bud rested his head in his hands. “When I heard, I was devastated.”

  Clarice pushed the form back across the table. “Never mind about us, Stella. It’s not about us. It’s about Dane. We wanted to do something for him, anything we could. If this is all we can do, then it will be enough. We love him, and it doesn’t matter if he won’t see us. We’re still his family.”

  Stella picked up the form, folded it, and tucked it in her apron. Family. It had been a long set of holidays for her, even though Beatrice and Joe had come up to see her. She wondered if family was something she just wasn’t cut out for.

  46

  Visitation

  ––––––––

  THE door rattled as the guard slid back the lock. “Visitation.”

  Dane looked up from his book. “You got the wrong con.” He still had three months of suspension to go, and Stella was the only one on his list anyway. She had not contacted him after the letter, just as he’d asked.

  “Stand up for escort.”

  Dane turned the book upside-down on his bed. Apparently, he was going somewhere.

  They followed the rail of the Two Walk down. Other inmates watched from their cells as they passed. Someone leaving the unit at this hour was pretty rare. It usually meant something bad was going down. Maybe visitation was a code word for something else this time.

  But as they passed through the cage and out into the night, Dane could see a few other inmates led toward the administration building from other units. Light splashed on the walkways as they webbed toward the red-brick building.

  The other prisoners were jovial and bright, most holding cards or woodworking projects. Dane hadn’t earned hobby or craft privileges and had been moved from laundry to the plate factory only a few days prior.

  They lined up along the corridor he recognized from the failed visit with Stella. “What gives?” he whispered to the man in front of him, who clutched a papier-mâché heart that had been painted red.

  “Special privilege,” the man said. “First time? You’ll love it. The guards are all laid back at this one.” He ran his hand along the edge of the heart, smoothing a loose bit of newspaper.

  It was Valentine’s Day, Dane realized. He hadn’t kept up with the dates. He didn’t have anything to look forward to. His blood pressure rose a notch. This had to be a mistake. He couldn’t be given a special privilege. He was on suspension.

  The door to visitation opened, and the inmates were led inside without all the usual wanding and warnings. They walked inside, orderly despite the urgency he sensed among them. Four guards stood in the room, and each table had a woman at it. Only a few of them also had children. The scene was completely different from his last experience.

  The room erupted in hugs and brief kisses, then everyone settled into chairs. Dane hung near the door, not sure why he was there, then he saw her.

  Stella sat alone at a table in the center of the room, resting her chin on her hands and watching him. She wore the green Show-Me State T-shirt they’d bought at the truck stop and a pair of jeans. Her hair was longer, spilling over her arms to her elbows. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he was momentarily dumbstruck, wondering wildly if he’d been shanked in his cell and this was some sort of death dream.

  He forced his legs to move forward, and suddenly she was standing, waiting for him. He knew there were rules, and that he was really suspended, but that just meant he had even less to lose. He pulled her in an embrace so tight that he could feel every rib against his chest. He kept her close as long as he dared. She felt thinner, but good, so good, like he’d come home.

  She sobbed against him, and he knew what that meant. She’d been holding things in too. Emotion throbbed between them. He couldn’t believe he’d let her go. “I was wrong,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have told you to go away.”

  She held on to his arms like a lifeline. “I shouldn’t have listened.”

  He pulled back and knew they would allow one kiss, and in it he had to say everything he wanted to say, that he loved her, which he’d never said, and that he hadn’t wanted to get angry, not at the bar, nor at her first visit, and that certainly he hadn’t wanted what happened to his father, to be forced into a cell and to think that it was better to drop out of someone’s life than to cause them any pain. He got it now. He understood completely how wrong his father had been, and how he’d been, and that something to lose was indeed better than nothing.

  But he couldn’t rely on the kiss. “I love you, Stella,” he said. “I don’t deserve you, not any part of you, but I love you.”

  She clutched at his shirt, that stupid convict’s uniform. “I have loved you all along. I can’t love anyone else.”

  All around them men and women embraced, exchanging Valentines and happy laughter. He hadn’t wanted to feel this here, not now, but this was what life had dealt them. He’d see it out, if she would.

  The guards were looking elsewhere, so he kissed her and kissed her, lips on hers and hands on her neck and she seemed to understand, as she was crying, and Stella never cried, and by the time a guard finally cleared his throat, he could let her go. He could sit opposite her at that plastic table and hold her hands, her pale strong hands, rougher from hard work, but still hers, and the bracelet. She was wearing the bracelet. He felt swallowed up by everything he’d missed about her and allowed into his heart the thing he hadn’t let get to him in many long months. He felt hope.

  47

  Wedding

  Spring 1985

  THE little girl in the white dress had gone far astray, flinging pink rose petals in wild chunks at everyone sitting along the aisle. Stella stifled the urge to run up behind her and set her straight, watching instead the photographer snap shot after shot, especially when a fistful of pink shot straight into Janine’s uptight mother’s face.

  The music changed, and Stella stepped forward, met by Nick’s brother, the best man, and together they walked along the carpet, trying not to laugh at the woman tugging errant petals from her ample cleavage. At the altar she blew a little kiss to Nick, looking nervous and red-faced as he waited for his bride to appear.

  Stella turned to face the back. The music surged, and the guests all stood. Two ushers opened the church doors wide, and Janine appeared in her flowing white gown, face covered in a shimmery veil, arm linked through her father’s.

  Stella bit her lip, hoping she wasn’t wrecking her makeup. Janine had eyes only for Nick. Stella glanced at the groom, amazed at the incredible smile that had erased his look of anxiety. They were both transformed in this moment, as happy as she’d ever seen them.

  Stella glanced down at the bracelet resting against the bone of her wrist. Gentle. Danger. Her in between.

  They’d both changed. She’d grown up. He’d calmed down. Dane
had even allowed Bud in to see him—the father he’d hated so long. It seemed impossible, but their lives were still growing and changing even while Dane was imprisoned.

  The organ music wound down. The flower girl was tossing petals straight into the air. Stella had to work not to laugh.

  She would get this day. And now, after five wonderful visits with Dane, each Sunday when they talked and held hands and even joked a little, she knew this was the one thing she wanted. This kind of day. With him. None of those other boys had worked. Only Dane.

  As Janine’s father stepped away, and Nick lifted Janine’s veil, Stella realized what she had to do.

  Wait.

  Part Three: Decision

  48

  Release

  Fall 1996

  Twelve years later STELLA pushed aside the yellow curtain. Midday had already struck, and it was time to get up.

  She should have given up the night shift years ago, when Rennie retired with her bad leg and Corgie told Stella she could switch to days. But over the years, Dane had moved from one unit to another, and to make sure she could be home for his daily calls, she stuck with nights, glad for a job that more or less paid the bills.

  Dane’s parole hearing had already happened, and she’d slept right through it. They didn’t expect anything to go wrong, but she didn’t know exactly when he’d get out, either. Might be today. Might be a few days’ worth of paperwork. She told Corgie that when it happened, she was taking a vacation. He’d shaken a spatula at her, but he knew she was as good as gone. Once the work committee assigned Dane his first job, they’d be moving wherever that might be, and her years at the Sinners’ Cafe would end.

  She stretched, looking out the window at the covered bulge of Grandma Angie’s white Mustang. The old thing had given up the ghost three years ago, too much to fix. But she hadn’t let go of it. Dane could work on it in his spare time, and it meant a lot to them. Now she drove a little Ford Escort, easy on the gas and not hard to keep up with.