“Yeah, that was a bad day.”
“Looks like you’ve had another one,” I said, running my index finger over his bruised cheek.
“Yeah, a lot of bad days,” he said, a haunted expression on his face. “Had a . . . disagreement . . . with the guys.”
“Zef did that to you?”
Kes gave a small smile. “Nope, that was all Zach.”
I couldn’t imagine gentle, kind Zach punching Kes.
“Wow, I didn’t know he had it in him.”
“Me neither.”
I pulled my hand free from Kes and picked up my coffee, taking a small sip. I was excited, I was anxious, I was afraid that my calm, ordered world was about to explode. Kes was larger than life, too wild for my small town, too big for my small life. He thrived on adrenalin; I craved peace and stability. How could I have been so stupid as to think we’d ever work out?
He came back for you, argued my desperate heart.
Kes took a deep breath. “I found Tucker’s Jim Beam and I planned on having a drink or ten.”
I gasped. “But you don’t drink! You’ve never even touched alcohol! Why would you . . . oh!”
I was horrfied. Kes had once told me that he didn’t drink because his mother had a drinking problem, and yet my actions had driven Kes straight to the nearest whiskey bottle. The thought made me sick.
Kes frowned. “It wasn’t your fault, Aimee. It was my decision, but the guys figured it was a pretty dumb one, so they talked me out of it.”
“And this discussion took place with fists?”
He sighed. “Pretty much. I’m glad they stopped me, it would have been the wrong thing to do, but I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.”
I bit my lip, uncertain what to say.
“I talked to Sorcha,” he said suddenly.
I flinched, and Kes’s eyes cut to me, seeing my reaction. I was not thrilled to hear that he’d been talking to his ex-girlfriend, the woman whose lies had kept us apart for eight, long years.
“I knew I had to get my shit together—take some responsibility for the way things worked out between us.”
“Did it . . . help?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. She’s still mad at me, and I don’t care about that. But she was my business manager for almost five years. Yeah, I know she skimmed money off the top, but I shouldn’t have just left all the management to her. You made me realize that.”
“Did you ask her about that journalist, Shelly Lendl?”
Kes’s face hardened.
“Yeah. She wouldn’t admit it, but I know she sicced that bitch on me. I got a lawyer, and he made Sorcha sign a non-disclosure agreement, so she’ll keep her mouth shut from now on. I said I’d turn her over to the cops about the money she stole, so she didn’t have a choice. I’m done with her and she knows it. She made plenty out of me—she’s got nothing to bitch about.”
I was certain Sorcha wouldn’t agree with that—she was still in love with Kes, same as me.
“And the journalist?”
His lips thinned. “I can’t do anything about her. She’s been sniffing around though.”
I stared into my coffee. Would he finally tell me what he was afraid she might find out?
At that moment, my cell phone rang.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Kes asked.
“They can leave a message. It’s probably my friend Mirelle.”
“Not the douche?”
I gave him a thin smile. “I think you scared him off.”
Kes frowned. “What’s the story with him? He was hitting on you—I really wanted to tear him apart with my bare hands. I could have,” he said, as if he was actually contemplating it.
“Well, he is a douche,” I agreed.”
“You told him no?” Kes’s body was instantly rigid with tension.
“Yes, I told him no.”
Kes looked down and drank a scalding mouthful of his coffee before pinning me with an intense gaze.
“You dated him for four years. Why?”
I pulled a face. I’d been asking myself the same question—and I didn’t like the answer I’d come up with.
“After everything that happened when we were 16, I wanted something . . . safe. No surprises. I know that will probably seem really pathetic to you, but I just couldn’t cope with any more drama. I actually feel bad about Gregg—I was using him without realizing it.”
Kes leaned back in his chair and stared at me appraisingly.
“He wants you but he can’t have you. I know how that feels.”
Another pulse of pain rippled through my body as Kes continued to stare at me.
“I don’t care about him,” I whispered.
“That asswipe had you for four years!” Kes said between gritted teeth. “Four fucking years! He got you for all that time when I . . . and then he fucking cheats on you. I want to fucking kill him.”
I could see the anger and passion and frustration coursing through him, his body so tense, I felt as if he’d break apart any second.
“Forget about him,” I said quietly. “He’s not important.”
Kes took a deep breath
“I’ve done a lot of thinking since you left. Zach said some stuff, too . . .”
He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw before he met my eyes again.
“You were right, what you said to me. You’ve wanted to be a teacher since you were ten years old. Hell, you spent those two weeks every summer trying to teach me to read and write. I was so fucking selfish thinking that you should just give it all up for me.”
I held my breath, wondering where this was going.
He gave a small smile. “If I’m honest, I still want that, but Zach said I was being an asshole, and that I should at least understand what I was asking you to give up. I’ve thought about that a lot. You traveled with me all summer, but I know almost nothing about your life here. I’d like to.”
I blinked several times, trying to hold back the hope that was winding its way into my heart. I let out the breath that I’d been holding.
“You want to travel my road with me for a while, Kestrel?”
He smiled at the use of his full name.
“Yeah, if you’ll let me.”
I tried to swallow, my mouth suddenly dry, and I had to take a sip of coffee before I could speak.
“How . . . how long will you stay for?”
He took my fingers between his large hands, and ran the rough calluses over my wrist, his eyes not meeting mine.
“I’ve cancelled all my shows until just before Thanksgiving. I’ve got a big gig in LA over the holidays, but I can stay till then. If you want me?”
Six whole weeks.
“And after Thanksgiving?” I pressed, my nerves making my voice skitter up an octave.
Kes shrugged and looked up. “I don’t know, but maybe we’ll figure it out along the way . . . if you’ll give me another chance . . .”
I nodded, my mouth twisting as tears began to track down my cheeks.
“Happy tears?” Kes murmured, his voice low and gruff.
I nodded again, making a loud gulping sob that should have embarrassed me, but I didn’t care because Kes was pulling me out of my seat and into his arms.
“God, Aimee, we’ll make it work,” he growled out against my skin. “I know we can make it work. Don’t ever leave me again. Please, baby, please.”
He pulled me into his strong, safe body, whispering into my hair as stupid tears continued to smudge my makeup.
Eventually, I managed to stop the embarrassing torrent of tears and wiped my face on the palms of my hands.
“I’m always crying over your shirts,” I mumbled.
“Doesn’t bother me,” he said, dropping another kiss into my hair.
“I must look like crap so I’d better go fix this.”
“Aimee, you said you’d give me another chance, so fuck the makeup—you’ve never looked more beautiful to me.”
I pulled a
face. “Sweet talker.”
He grinned. “Is it working?”
“Definitely.”
He winked at me as I shuffled off to the ladies room to assess the damage.
When I looked in the mirror, my mascara was tracked halfway across my face, and my eyes were red and swollen, but they were bright and alive with hope. My love had come to find me.
Maybe we had a chance after all.
Kes followed me back to my apartment. Every time I caught a glimpse of his electric blue motorcycle in my rearview mirror, I couldn’t help smiling. A marginal day was turning out pretty great.
I parked in the lot at the side of my apartment building and waited for Kes, feeling oddly shy.
I watched as he dismounted and pulled off his helmet, a small smile curling the corners of his lips as he met my eyes.
He held out his hand toward me, and we walked up the stairs together. I fumbled with my key while Kes waited patiently. Then I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck.
“Am I making you nervous, Aimee?”
“No,” I lied.
He laughed quietly.
“Okay, maybe a little,” I admitted.
With gentle hands, he moved my hair onto my shoulder and feathered light kisses down the back of my neck. I dropped my keys when I felt the prickle of his scruff against my skin.
I shivered, but Kes took a step back, scooping up my keys, grinning at me so his dimple popped out. I’d missed that dimple. I’d missed everything about him.
I noticed that his hands weren’t shaking as he pushed the key into the lock. The door swung open, creaking loudly.
“I really need to oil that,” I muttered to myself.
We walked inside, and Kes seemed to fill the tiny space. I knew it was cozy, but with him in the room, everything seemed dwarfed.
He was large physically, tall and imposing, his strong muscles defined beneath his t-shirt and jeans, but the energy that vibrated under his skin seemed to fill the room with light and heat.
I slipped my thin jacket from my shoulders and hung it on a hook by the door, feeling too warm and overwhelmed.
Kes gazed around him, taking in my battered couch, his eyes pausing on my bookshelf, then moving to the tiny table with two small chairs that were pushed against the wall of my galley kitchen.
“Nice place,” he said at last. “How long have you lived here?”
“Two years.”
He shook his head in amazement.
“Wow, I’ve never stayed anywhere that long.”
And there it was—the gulf between us. My man was a traveler, a wanderer. And me? I was a homebody at heart.
“How many bedrooms does it have?” he asked casually.
“Just the one.”
He stared at me until I looked away.
“It’s okay, Aimee,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can sleep on the couch or, hell, I don’t know, get a hotel room if you want. I don’t want to assume anything in case I make an ass of myself again. Yeah, I want you, I’ll always want you, but it’s your choice, okay?”
I swallowed several times. “You’ll always want me?”
He nodded his expression serious, almost stern. “What I want hasn’t changed.”
Then his eyes dropped to my throat and the thin gold chain around my neck.
“Is that . . . ?”
“Yes,” I said quickly. “I’m wearing your necklace. I haven’t taken it off.”
His glorious smile warmed me, reaching all the chilled corners of my heart.
“Come here,” he said, and he opened his arms.
I took a step forward and let my hands creep around his neck, my cheek against his chest.
“I really want to take you to bed now, Aimee. I really fucking need to know that you’re my girl.”
I gazed up into his eyes, dark with shadows and questions.
“I don’t know how we’ll make this work or . . .”
“Shh,” he said, his lips ghosting over mine. “Talk later.”
I pulled away slightly.
“But we need to talk!”
“Later,” he persisted, his tongue licking a scorching line from my neck to my ear.
I pulled away further.
“Kes, no. Not talking got us into this mess in the first place.”
He stood up straight and put his hands on his hips, his head hanging down as if the weight of my words was too heavy for him.
“You said you loved me—is that still true?”
“You know it is,” I said quietly.
A pained expression swept across his face, and I felt a little sick.
No, of course he didn’t know how I felt. I said I loved him and then I walked away. Kes had told me over and over that actions always speak louder than words. But I’d been just the same as his mother, promising everything but making a lie of my words. His father had never wanted Kes; Dono had died; and even his brother, Falcon, had left him to find his own way in the world.
“We’re together now,” I said quietly.
“Are we?” he sighed. “And what about when I have to go back to work? You’ll leave me again, I know it.”
My chest felt hollow, and I hated myself for having made him feel so unsure of everything.
I leaned my head against his shoulder, and his arms wrapped around me.
“I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you enough, Kes; I left because I loved you too much, and it was breaking my heart that you couldn’t trust me. No, let me finish,” I said quickly as he began to interrupt. “I’d done everything I could to fit into your world, and it still wasn’t enough. There were things about your life that you didn’t want to share with me—you must see that there’s no future in a relationship like that?”
His hand twitched against my waist.
“I really fucked things up, didn’t I?” he said quietly. “I was so fucking sure that words didn’t mean anything. You’ve been my best friend since I was 10 years old. You were the first girl I ever slept with . . . and the last. That means something, doesn’t it?”
I nodded slowly. “The fact that you came here means a lot, too. I just don’t know where we go from here.” And I meant that literally as well as figuratively.
He rubbed his eyes, the tiredness more apparent now we’d reached the same impasse.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, deliberately changing the subject so we could both take a step back.
“Not so much. Tired mostly. I was in Savannah yesterday morning and I rode through the night to get here.”
“What? Savannah is a thousand miles from here—you must be exhausted.” I paused. “What were you doing in Savannah?”
“Zef and I drove from California in the RV. He’s visiting with his brother down south for a few weeks, so it made sense to share the driving.”
I couldn’t help feeling like nothing made sense, but I really, really wanted it to.
“Do you want to take a nap while I fix something for dinner?” I offered at last.
Kes looked disappointed, but tried to hide it.
“Will you just lay down with me for a while, Aimee?”
I could hear the quiet desperation in his voice.
“Okay,” I said, my voice soft.
I took his hand and led him into the bedroom.
He gazed around at the small room, decorated in soft blues and whites.
“It’s nice,” he said. “Peaceful.”
“I like it.”
I kicked off my shoes and shifted a few throw pillows out of the way so there was room for both of us to rest against the headboard. I placed my old teddy bear on my bedside table and Kes smiled.
“I remember him. He always used to be on your bed when we were kids. It’s cool that you still have him.”
I raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Sure,” Kes said, looking serious. “He gets to see you undress every night. Lucky bear.”
I threw a pillow at him, smiling as he caught it easily.
I scooted a little further down the bed and rolled onto my side, watching him as he bent down to unbuckle his boots. He started to pull off his t-shirt, but paused.
“Do you mind?” he asked. “I’ve been wearing it for 36 hours.”
“I don’t mind,” I said, giving him a small smile.
He yanked it over his head and let it drop over his boots. Then he sat on the bed and laid down. But, unsatisfied with his position, he pulled me against his chest, before stretching out.
“That feels better,” he said.
My heart rate hitched. The spicy scent of his warm skin, the ridges and planes of his broad chest were bringing back memories, delicious, erotic memories.
I took a deep breath, trying to slow my racing heart. I opened my mouth to ask him a question, but he started to speak.
“My mom’s name is Maura.”
My ears perked up immediately. And then I realized that he said is not was. I’d always assumed that his mother was dead . . .
“She was 15 when she got knocked up with Con.”
I was shocked. Shocked that he was talking to me at last, and shocked by what he was saying.
“Wow, that’s so young!”
“Yeah. She was 16 when he was born. My . . . father . . . was a townie. He was 18 or 19 when it happened. I bet Dono wanted to kill him, but my mom loved him, so they tried to work it out. But Dad’s family was from old money, and it was a disgrace to have a carnie for a daughter-in-law. They put a lot of pressure on Mom to give my brother up for adoption, but she wouldn’t do it. And I don’t think Dono would have allowed it either. Gran was still alive then, so she said she’d help Mom raise the baby.”
Kes glanced at me, but I stayed silent. I didn’t want to interrupt him now he was finally talking to me. I gave him a quick, reassuring smile, then laid my head against his chest and felt his arm tighten around my shoulders.
“Dad’s family tried to pay Mom to keep quiet, but Dono wouldn’t let her take their money, even though she really needed it and we didn’t have much. He was too proud, I guess, and he didn’t want to be beholden to anyone.
“Anyway, my parents stayed in touch while Mom was traveling. I think Dad was in college by then. Every time the carnival was back in town, they’d hook up again. Ollo was there so he saw a lot of it first hand and he told me it used to make Dono furious, but Mom wouldn’t listen when he said that Dad was just using her.
The Traveling Woman Page 2