“How about the bathroom? I’m not particular.” I’d been prepared to politely refuse her assistance, but her effervescent personality soothed my agitation from the previous events. Besides, it would be nice to have someone to talk to. Lanie had been my only friend growing up. As an adult, work and travel allowed little time for socializing. And I preferred to keep a distance from people, to protect myself from forming any emotional attachments.
We went to work, stopping only once to enjoy the lunch she’d brought. She talked nonstop, taking my mind off of the break-in and Owen. Through her chatter, I learned she and Dad had four sons, two from his first marriage and two together. They lived on a farm in the next county and had met through an internet dating site.
“We got engaged after a week,” she said, her gaze softening at the memory. “My family threw a fit. But here we are twelve years and two kids later. It’s the best decision I ever made.”
“Do you really call him Dad?”
“Sure. Everyone does.” Her eyes glinted with mischief. “Actually, between you and me, I call him Daddy, especially during sexy time.” She winked, sending me into a fit of laughter. It felt good to laugh, a welcome vacation from my self-imposed seriousness.
I withdrew two bottles of water from the cooler in the kitchen and handed one to her. We took seats on the broken steps of the front porch. The temperature had climbed into the upper nineties, leaving a dull sheen of sweat on our skin. Locust droned, and an occasional sultry breeze rustled through the cornfield beyond my property. Owen cut across the yard in front of us on the way to his truck.
Cindy followed the trajectory of my gaze and fanned her face with a hand. “That boy must’ve been first in line when God passed out the good looks.”
“He’s not ugly,” I said, ducking my head to hide my expression.
“Nope, definitely not.” She studied him for a while, leaning back and resting her elbows on the step behind her. “I suppose you know about his trouble?”
“Um, yes.” Whenever someone mentioned Owen’s history, my insides quaked, and the old feelings of guilt and remorse reared their heads.
“They say he killed his brother, but for the life of me, I can’t understand it. He’s the kindest, gentlest man I’ve ever met, next to Dad. What do you think?” She continued to stare after Owen.
“I can’t believe it either.” My voice cracked on the words. I took a swig of water to clear my throat. “The Owen I knew would never hurt someone intentionally.”
“He’s a tough nut to crack, that one. Keeps to himself mostly. He’s got pain—deep down, you know? You can see it in his eyes. He needs someone to love him. I try to fix him up with girls from our church, but he don’t want nothing to do with them.” Because I didn’t know what to say, I kept my lips sealed. Her gaze turned to me. “What about you? Are you interested, or are you hiding a man around here somewhere?”
“I have a friend.” I cringed at the word, especially after giving Michael hell, but I had no idea how to characterize our relationship either. “Well, we’re more than friends. We’re just not together.” Before coming to Corbett, before Owen, I’d hoped to get more serious with Michael, but now—I just didn’t know.
“Ah, fuck buddy.” Her blond curls bounced as she nodded. “There’s a lot to be said for those, although you can’t beat having a good man to come home to every night. After my divorce, I hit the bars every weekend. It was great for a while, but I got tired of waking up in strange places. I met Dad at the grocery store, and it was love at first sight.”
“What are you gabbing about, Cindy?” Dad leaned a forearm on the porch railing, giving his wife a grin.
“Nothing.” She smiled sweetly at him and patted his sweaty forearm. “Are you about ready to head home? I need to get dinner started.”
“Yep. We’re finishing up now.” He removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and swiped it over his forehead. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot shower and a cold beer.”
“That sounds great. Would you like to join us for dinner, Stella?”
“Thanks, but not tonight. I’m going to keep working. Can I get a raincheck?” Although a free, hot meal sounded heavenly, I wanted to get the first coat of paint on the living room walls before bed.
“Absolutely. Anytime.” Dad held out a hand to help his wife stand. She rose to her feet with a groan.
“I really appreciate your help today. I can’t thank you enough,” I said to Cindy.
“You’re welcome, hon. I enjoyed it.” She leaned in to give me a quick hug. “I’ll come back to help tomorrow.”
I watched them walk to their vehicles, still holding hands. Their easy camaraderie confused and intrigued me. Having grown up without loving parents, I found their connection refreshing. Love between a man and woman had always been a fleeting, intangible mystery, something to be feared and avoided at all costs. After watching them, I had to wonder if maybe I’d been wrong.
After brushing the dust from the seat of my jeans, I went into the house and worked until dark. At the end of the night, every bone and muscle in my body ached. With heavy footsteps, I circled the ground floor to turn out the lights. I locked the front and back doors and double checked all the windows. The flash of headlights on the street caught my attention. A vehicle parked by the curb at the end of my driveway. My palms began to sweat. Had the robbers returned, waiting for me to retire for the night? I ducked behind the curtains and stole a peek out the window. Once the clouds parted, blue moonlight bathed the hood of Owen’s truck.
A warm rush of conflicting emotions swept through me. I knew without asking that he was there to watch over me, to protect me, because that was what he’d always done. Despite the lies and secrets, some part of him still cared. The walls of my throat thickened until I couldn’t swallow. I leaned against the wall and let my head fall back. After a minute, I drew in a fortifying breath and marched outside. Owen sat behind the steering wheel, arms folded over his chest, with the windows down. The plaintive notes of country music drifted from the radio, and the peppery-sweet scent of the cornfields lingered in the air. He cocked an eyebrow at me.
“Are you stalking me?” I asked, even though I knew he wouldn’t answer. His lips pressed together into a straight line. The night shadows carved out the hollows and angles of his face, giving him a sharp, fierce look. “You can’t sit out here.”
“Last I checked it was a public street.” He stared straight ahead, avoiding my gaze.
“It gives me the creeps.” I crossed my arms over my chest, mimicking his posture, and glanced up at the moon, drawing strength from its fullness. “Aren’t you afraid ‘people will talk’?” With my index fingers, I drew air quotes. “What about my reputation?”
“They’re already talking.” With a fingertip, he brushed the dust from the trim around the dashboard. I shivered, thinking of how his touch would feel on my bare skin. “I’m more concerned that those dickheads will come back.”
His confession blindsided me. Despite the rumors and lies and secrets, some part of him still cared about me. I didn’t deserve that kind of devotion, but it spoke volumes about his character. “Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it, you might as well come inside.” A mosquito buzzed next to my ear. I brushed it away with an impatient jerk of my hand. “The bugs will eat you alive. Or do you intend to sleep out here?”
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” he remarked dryly.
“Owen, I insist.” Before he could protest again, I opened his truck door and swept a hand toward the house in invitation. “I don’t have much furniture, but I do have an extra bed. You can sleep in the spare room.” I couldn’t admit it to him, but having him here made me feel safe.
14
Owen
Present Day…
As I followed her into the house, I knew I was making a huge mistake. Loving her had brought me nothing but misery and heartache, and still I couldn’t stop myself. I loved her and hated her and craved her like an ad
dict, always in search of another fix. She led me up the stairs to the second floor, bringing back memories of our teenaged selves. Outside the room that had been hers, she pointed through the doorway to a box spring and mattress on the floor. The room was the same shade of blue. Faded spots dotted the walls where pictures had hung.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked. “I can stay in the truck.”
Even if she threw me out of the house, I wouldn’t leave her alone. Not now. Not when she needed me. After all these years, she still had no one to look out for her. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her when I had the power to protect her.
“I know it’s not much,” she said, picking at her fingernails, the way she’d done when we were kids. The familiar habit tweaked my resolve to remain cool and impersonal. “I haven’t had time to shop for furniture yet.”
“It’ll do.” To hide my emotions, I brushed past her. The room seemed smaller than I remembered, and faded, like the remnant of a much-loved photograph.
“You’re taller than I remember,” she said. When I turned, she’d leaned a shoulder against the door jamb, arms crossed over her chest. The posture lifted her breasts, creating cleavage. I bit my lower lip and tried not to think about how her skin might taste, how full and soft her breasts would be against my naked chest.
“I grew an inch or two since we last saw each other, I think.” The floorboards creaked beneath my weight as I crossed the room. We stood less than a foot apart. I felt every one of her breaths in the pit of my soul. My fingers curled, resisting the urge to brush her hair away from her face. One touch would shatter my self-control, and I wasn’t through hating her. Not yet. Because if I stopped hating her, I’d be left with nothing but love. And I couldn’t afford to risk my heart for her again.
15
Stella
Present Day…
In the middle of the night, I awoke to a powerful thirst and sweat-soaked sheets. Grit burned beneath my heavy eyelids. Instantly, I remembered Owen in the next room and cursed. What kind of idiot invited her ex-boyfriend, a convicted murderer, to sleep in her house? Oh, yeah. That’s right. This girl. With a sigh, I threw back the top sheet and swung my bare feet onto the wood floor.
I padded down the hall to Owen’s room. The door and windows were open, but the moon had retreated, leaving the house in total darkness. I stared into the black hole of the doorway, waiting for my eyes to adjust, my heart thundering. After a few seconds, the clouds shifted again. The dim light revealed his long body on the mattress. One arm rested above his head, fingers curled loosely, thick hair in his armpit. Rippled abs rose and fell with his even breathing. A dark trail of hair trailed over his smooth, suntanned belly, leading from his navel into the waistband of his boxer briefs and to the bulge below. An impressive bulge. Jesus, if I didn’t back away, I was going to get pregnant from looking at him.
“Stella?” His deep, sleepy voice made me jump. “Is everything okay?”
A furious flush heated my face. “Yes. Um, yeah. I was—” What was I doing? The sight of his big body on the tiny twin bed had shorted out my wiring. “I’m going downstairs for a water. Do you want some?”
“Sounds good. It’s hot as fuck in here.” In a graceful motion, he rose to his feet. The silky sheen of sweet glistened on his chest. “I’ll go with you.”
With a throbbing ache between my thighs, I headed downstairs. He followed me. His nearness pebbled the skin on my arms into gooseflesh. In the bright light of the kitchen, I became acutely aware of the tiny shorts barely covering my ass and my braless breasts. After exploring third-world countries with a group of men, sometimes sharing sleeping quarters, I’d lost all semblance of modesty. Standing in front of Owen, however, was an entirely different thing. To hide my embarrassment, I dug in the cooler for a water and tossed the bottle to him. He caught it with one hand. I took one of the ice cubes and dragged it over my neck and collarbone. Sweet, fleeting relief followed. The chill from the ice tightened my nipples. The melted water evaporated immediately, leaving me hotter than before.
“I don’t remember Indiana being this sweltering,” I said to break the uncomfortable stillness.
“You’ve been away a long time.” In the quiet, his voice held a soft, intimate quality. “I’m sure you’ve forgotten a lot.”
“I have a memory like an elephant.” I lifted my chin and met his eyes. That goddamn penetrating gaze of his sliced through all my barriers and knocked on the door of my soul. “I remember everything.”
“Everything but the heat.” He rolled his lips together. His gaze flitted from my eyes to my mouth and back again.
“At the time, the heat wasn’t important.” But you were. You were everything to me, and you went and fucked it up. The words screamed inside my head. I bit my lower lip to hold them back.
“Come on.” Without explanation, he left, pushing through the back door and onto the porch. Against my better judgement, I followed him. On bare feet, he traversed the gravel driveway. I winced as the sharp stones cut into my tender flesh. He shook his head and came back to meet me in the middle. In an easy sweep, he lifted me into his arms and carried me to the grass on the far side, then set me down. It was something he’d done a dozen times when we were kids, always followed with a wisecrack about my tender soles. The bittersweet sting of nostalgia sliced through my chest. We’d been so happy back then—before the world had turned to shit.
“Where are we going?” I asked when I’d finally found my voice.
“You know.” He kept walking, and I followed him because I couldn’t help myself.
The dry grass tickled my ankles. The yard needed cut, but I hadn’t bought a mower yet. One more thing to add to the list of homeowner supplies. Overhead, the clouds had cleared, showing a bright moon and a velvet carpet of stars. Crickets and bullfrogs sang in voices loud enough to drown the banging of my heart against my ribs. A few yards beyond the garage, water trickled over stones, beckoning. The river had been our meeting place. I’d been avoiding it to evade the significance it held for me, but now, scanning the tumble of boulders along the bank and the covered bridge in the distance, my stomach did a nervous flip.
“No way. You’re not serious.” I halted. During my one summer here, we’d swam in the river nearly every day—me, Owen, and sometimes Lanie.
“Totally.” From the bank, he cast a taunting glance over his shoulder. “Last one in is a rotten egg.” Before I could draw my next breath, he’d stripped out of his underwear. The taut, white firmness of his buttocks gleamed in the moonlight. I stifled a groan at the sight of him, proud and wild, overlooking the river. He waded out a few feet, the water swirling around his strong thighs, before sinking up to his chin into a deeper pool. “Are you coming in, or are you going to stand there gawking?”
I swear the man had eyes in the back of his head. After shaking my head, shifting from one foot to the other, and ticking off a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea, I shimmied out of my shorts and tank top. The water was warm but still a few degrees cooler than the air. The mucky bottom squeezed through my toes. I picked my way around the protruding rocks until I was a few feet from Owen and sank into the pool. Immediate and satisfying relief washed over me. I closed my eyes and moaned, letting the coolness seep into my skin. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so delicious.”
“Really?” he asked, his tone dry. By now, I’d developed a fondness for the way he arched his left eyebrow, the one with the scar, whenever I said something provoking.
“Okay. That might be a slight exaggeration.” The mild current had pushed us together until we were less than a foot apart. I hovered in the water, weightless. Moonlight shimmered on the ripples created by our movements.
“I used to daydream about this. About us. Here.” He ran a hand up the length of my arm to the crest of my shoulder and back down. “Sometimes it was the only thing that got me through the endless days of waiting.” When his hand reached my wrist, he gripped it with his strong fingers a
nd drew me through the water in a lazy circle around him. I let the momentum roll me onto my back, soothed by the sounds of the night. The stars rotated through the black sky above us, infinite and mysterious like the man at my side. “It kept me sane when everything else begged me to become a monster.”
I put my feet on the river bottom, his confessions overwhelming. He stared at me. Beads of water glistened on his chest. I took a step closer and placed my hand over his heart. It thudded strong and steady against my palm. Tears blurred my vision. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Stop saying you’re sorry.” The tone of his voice turned angry. “Fuck the apologies, Stella. It’s way too late for that.”
“Buy why? Why did you do it?” The tears streamed down my cheeks. I didn’t try to hold them back. I needed answers. “Make me understand.”
His nostrils flared with a deep, chest-swelling breath. He blinked, giving me that spellbinding, penetrating stare. “You know why. I did it to save you.”
16
Stella
Present Day…
One minute, we were staring at each other and the next minute, I was launching myself through the water. He grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck as my arms snaked around his shoulders. I opened my mouth, eager to feel those beautiful lips and his tongue dancing against mine. His fingers tightened in my hair. I hissed at the forcefulness of his possessive grip. Before my mouth found his, he yanked my head back, forcing my gaze upward. His eyes were dark, glittering, and threatening.
Monster Love Page 9