The tip of his nose nuzzled along the bridge of mine. His eyes closed as his lips brushed my mouth in a butterfly kiss. I sighed, overcome by the tenderness in his touch. “I don’t know, Stella. It’s not going to matter if you’re in prison.” He kissed me again, deeper this time, teasing my tongue with his until my toes curled. One of his arms stole around my waist. He yanked me against his chest. The warm, hard length of his body pressed against mine. I melted into his strength. With his free hand, he spanked my bottom, one hard slap that made me gasp then giggle.
“What was that for?” I curled my fingers into the fabric of his T-shirt and drew in a lungful of his scent. He smelled manly and a little uncivilized, a combination of soap and shampoo and leather. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m fucking furious,” he said. The soft fullness of his mouth found the tender spot beneath my ear and sucked. Tiny bubbles of desire fizzed in my veins. The hand on my bottom tightened its grip. I moaned and wiggled closer to his chest, molding every inch of my body to every inch of his.
“Maybe you should stay here one more night.” The fullness of my breasts flattened against his hard pectorals.
“Persuade me.” His mouth had found mine again. I gave into my lust and dug my fingers into his hair, tugging, enjoying his groans.
26
Stella
Present Day…
The next day, a bubble of giddiness threatened to burst inside me every time I looked at Owen. Aside from an occasional sideways glance, he carried about his normal work routine. A few times, I heard him whistling. When the guys piled into the truck for lunch, he came inside to eat with me.
One week blurred into the next. All the leaves fell off the trees and the flowers died. By the time Dad and the boys finished the last of the renovations, the farmers had harvested the corn across the road and frost covered the barren fields. Owen came over every night to sit on the porch swing with me, the way he had when we were kids. When the temperatures grew too cold, we sat inside by the crackling fireplace. I ate up his attention like a starving animal. Sometimes he spent the night, but most of the time he went back to Cindy and Dad’s. We were taking things slow, rebuilding our trust in each other.
A few days before Thanksgiving, we were sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee, when the growl of a car engine interrupted our conversation. I peeked out the window to see Lanie’s van in the driveway.
“Hey, sis.” With arms extended, she ran toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Surprise!”
“Um, yes. What’s going on?” I hugged her back then disentangled myself to eyeball her. We hadn’t talked since before my trip to Iceland. She’d sent a few texts, but I’d kept my responses short. I couldn’t forgive her for letting me down when I needed her help.
“You said we should come and visit. Well, here we are.” The impulsive move was typical Lanie. I swallowed, trying to decide if I was pissed or ambivalent. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s so cold in Cleveland and the kids are on break, so we thought we’d come for a visit.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m happy to see you.” Thank goodness I’d bought more furniture for the spare rooms. “A call would have been nice.”
“Well, I was going to, but you never answer your phone, and then I thought it would be a great surprise. So here we are.” She danced in a circle around me, her smile infectious. Her expression clouded, however, when Owen arrived at my side.
“Hey, Lanie,” he said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Owen.” A frown furrowed her forehead. She glanced from me to Owen uncertainly then moved in to give him a hug. “You’re taller than I remember.”
“You look the same. Pretty as ever,” he said, his tone even.
“Thanks.” Her dimples popped at the compliment.
“Get the kids and come inside,” I said. “You must be tired.”
“The drive was hell.” She rolled her expressive eyes. “The kids fought the entire trip. Teenagers are no joke.” At the wave of her hand, the kids spilled out of the van. Their hugs reminded me of the joys of aunthood. Despite their protests, I gave each one a kiss on the cheek. My relationship with Lanie had nothing to do with the love I felt for them.
“Aunt Stella, can I go explore?” Kimberly asked. At thirteen, she was nearly as tall as me, and just as pretty as her mother. She twisted a strand of her long, auburn hair around her finger and blinked large blue eyes at me. My heart melted.
“Sure,” I said. “But stay around the house.”
While Owen and Trey, Lanie’s oldest son, unloaded the luggage, Lanie and I took three-year-old Colton inside. He sat on my lap and ate Cheerios from a paper plate while we talked.
“So, what’s the scoop, Lanie? I thought you hated it here. You didn’t come for no reason.”
She shrugged, avoiding my gaze. “We haven’t talked in weeks.”
“You know why.” I stared at her across the table. Her dark red hair swung around her shoulders. She looked younger than her age, too young to have a sixteen-year-old son. “I’ve spent my entire life cleaning up your messes, and I ask you to do one thing for me—one thing—and you won’t even consider it.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes. Her jaw stiffened with the stubbornness we shared. “You always think the worst of me.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.” I placed my hands over the toddler’s ears. Thinking it was a game, he smiled up at me. “I’ve had your back since the day you were born. Just me, Lanie. I’m the one who defended you from the bullies on the playground, and I’m the one who kept you out of trouble when you were too stupid to do it for yourself.”
“Don’t call me stupid.” Her glare intensified. “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Oh my God. You make me crazy.” My frustrations culminated in a growl.
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. After a minute, her shoulders lowered. “So, what’s the deal with Owen? Why is he here?”
“We were getting ready to play gin rummy,” I said, avoiding the point of her question. Neither of us could stand to look at each other.
“Is it serious?” she asked. The corners of her mouth turned down.
“Don’t go there.” Her judgmental tone teased my temper. “He’s a part of my life now. Either be nice to him or go home.”
She laughed, crinkling her nose, like she did when she was truly amused. “Wow. Alrighty then. It really is serious.”
“Before you go criticizing Owen, let me remind you that your latest baby daddy is a biker with a rap sheet longer than my arm.”
“Fair enough.” Her casual shrug meant that she’d forgiven me. “But he had the most beautiful eyes and look how cute Colton is. He’s going to have big baby blues just like his daddy.”
I removed my hands from my nephew’s ears and gave him a kiss on top of his curly head. “You’re going to be a heartbreaker someday.”
“Aunt Stella, which room is mine?” Trey stood at the threshold of the kitchen with his arms full of suitcases. He had Lanie’s dark auburn hair and my violet eyes. A shadow of whiskers covered his upper lip.
“Upstairs. You can have any of the rooms to the left. Let your mom and Colton have the room next to the bathroom.” He nodded, but I couldn’t resist teasing him before he retreated. “Hey, what’s that on your face?”
“Huh?” He rubbed a finger over his jaw.
“You’ve got something right here.” I dragged my fingertip over my upper lip. “It looks like dirt.”
“It’s a moustache.” The annoyed undertone in his voice made me smile. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
“Give the kid a break,” Owen said. He came to my side and rested a hand on my shoulder. It felt good there. I smiled up at him. Lanie watched our interaction with hooded interest. He bent and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Look, I’m going to get out of here and give you two a chance to catch up.”
“You don’t have to leave because of us,” Lanie said. “We didn’t mean to disru
pt your evening.”
“I’ve got some things to take care of anyway,” Owen said. His deep voice reverberated through my body. When his gaze met mine, heat scaled my face. “Call you later?”
“Sure. Don’t forget—Dad and Cindy are coming over tomorrow.” I said. “You’ll be here, right?”
“Deal.” He kissed me again, this time on the mouth, leaving the taste of peppermint on my lips. I watched him walk out the door, admiring his long stride and the snug fit of his jeans over his slim hips. When the door closed behind him, I felt Lanie’s stare.
“Not one word,” I said, raising a finger in warning.
After a tour through the house and a light supper of frozen pizza, everyone settled into their rooms. Lanie and I laid on her bed while Colton slept between us. She stroked her fingers through his dark curls, her expression pensive. Quiet warmth enveloped the house. Even though I was furious with her, the bonds of family were strong between us.
“Do you think I’m a good mom?” she asked suddenly.
“Of course.” Her question caught me off guard. Despite her impulsive decisions and poor choice of men, she’d always been devoted to her kids. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about Mom a lot lately. She was our age when she left us. When I look at my sweet babies, I can’t understand how she could ever do something like that. Nothing would ever take me away from my children. I’d move heaven and earth to keep them safe.” Her tone turned fierce. Tears glistened on her eyelashes. “You know?”
“Yeah, I know.” I patted her hand. We snuggled closer. Colton sighed and rolled onto his back, flinging a hand into my stomach. It reminded me of our younger days when we only had each other. I liked having her near.
“I know I should have done something to help Owen, but I was fourteen, Stella, and terrified of being separated from you.” Our hands met. She squeezed until my fingers ached. “As time passed, it was easier to forget the whole terrible mess. I didn’t realize how much you loved him.” I tried to free my fingers from hers, my anger renewing, but she clung to me. “Please, please, don’t be upset with me.”
In fairness, I’d hidden my pain from her, saving my tears for the late-night hours when no one could hear me. “You could still do something.”
“I did. I called your friend, Michael, before I came here.” My breath caught in my throat at her confession. She swallowed, as if the words burned her throat.
“Lanie, oh my God.” I pulled her into a hug. “I’m so proud of you for coming forward. You have no idea how much this means to me. You did the right thing.”
“I hope so.” Her pretty face puckered with worry. “Michael said he’d get back to us in a few days.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened with Chris?” I asked. Fear made my insides quake, but my love for her overwhelmed my misgivings. I tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”
She nodded. “I promise that I’ll tell you someday but not tonight.” Her gaze fell on Colton. She smoothed the blanket over his little body, her touch light and tender. “They’re growing up way too fast. Kimberly’s already talking about boys, and it scares the bejeezus out of me.”
I barked out a laugh, making Colton snuffle. She shushed me with a frown. “Sorry,” I whispered. “All you can do is try to teach them what’s right, Lanie. And I think you do a pretty good job of it. They’re terrific kids.”
“I know, but I worry.” Her eyelids fluttered, heavy with exhaustion. Faint circles shadowed her eyes, smudges I hadn’t noticed until now. “What if she turns out like me?”
“Heaven help us both,” I said, teasing, but she’d already fallen asleep.
I laid there for a while longer, listening to their even breathing. Lanie’s confession gave me hope for Owen’s future. Unwilling to raise his hopes or his anger, I decided not to tell him anything until I heard back from Michael. When my own exhaustion grew too much, I tiptoed down the hall to check on Trey and Kimberly. Without waking them, I smoothed their sheets and tucked the blankets around them before returning to my bed. The house seemed full for the first time since I’d moved in. Before I turned off the lamp, I took a minute to savor the first feeling of belonging I’d ever had.
27
Stella
Present Day…
The next day, the house brimmed with activity. Cindy and Dad brought over their boys. We baked cookies in the kitchen and ate them on the front porch while the boys played football in the yard. The frosty air turned their breath into clouds and painted their cheeks bright red. I couldn’t help thinking about Stan and Marianne, and how they’d love to see their house full of happy people. I had no idea where people went in the afterlife, but I hoped they could see us down here.
“What are you smiling about?” Owen asked. In his red flannel shirt, he looked like a fierce lumberjack. His hair had grown another inch in the last month. I brushed it away from his face.
“I was thinking about Stan and Marianne. They couldn’t have any kids of their own. That’s why they had so many foster kids. It seems right to have a lot of people in this house.”
“Yep, I think so too.” He wrapped his arms around my middle and rested his chin on the top of my head. His hold tightened on my waist. The scruff of his chin brushed over my forehead. “When’s your next photoshoot?”
“I don’t know.” Traveling held less appeal today than it had a few months ago. “But I was thinking maybe you would come with me next time.”
“Really?” He pulled back to study my face. I stroked a hand along the curve of his cheek, loving the way his eyes sparkled when I touched him.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a solid maybe.”
We both laughed. It felt good to smile again after so many years of seriousness. Even though gray clouds darkened the sky and snowflakes twirled in the air, the sun had come out on my life. But the minute Michael’s car turned into the driveway, the old panic returned. He got out of the car. White snow dotted the lapels of his black trench coat and his sleek dark hair. I tried to step out of Owen’s embrace, but he didn’t let go. Michael’s curious gaze slid over the playing children, Lanie, and the Shermans before landing on my face.
“Stella, hi. I hope you don’t mind me dropping by. I was in the area and wanted to see how you’re doing. I brought this.” He extended a bottle of wine topped with a red bow.
“Thanks. I appreciate it. Do you want to come in?” I gestured toward the house. He glanced up at Owen, like he was asking for approval.
“Owen. Good to see you again.” The two men shook hands. “I can’t stay more than a minute.” The Shermans kept the kids outside while Lanie, Owen, and I escorted Michael to the house.
Once inside, he perused the living room with its cozy rugs and comfortable furniture. Warm flames blazed in the fireplace. “This place looks amazing. You did a great job. I can’t believe it’s the same home.”
“It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting there.” My chest swelled with pride. I remembered his initial doubts and curbed the desire to remind him how little faith he’d had in my abilities. It had only been a few months since we’d split up, but I felt more confident and contented than ever.
An awkward silence ensued. Michael looked at the floor. I picked at my nails. Owen watched us both with his piercing gaze. Finally, Michael cleared his throat and said, “Actually, I have something to discuss with both of you and Lanie, if you don’t mind.”
My stomach flipped over. What if he’d found the evidence in Owen’s case? Had he come to warn us? I touched his hand. “Let’s go into the study.” I closed the door behind us. Lanie went to the far side of the room, her face pale, lips pressed together in a tight line. She looked small and scared.
“What’s up?” Owen asked.
Michael went to the window and stared outside at the kids. The snow had begun to stick. A fine layer of white coated the grass. He clasped his hands behind his back
. “Do you remember the girl who went missing twenty years ago? The Cartwright’s daughter?” We nodded. “The forensic results are back.” When he turned to face us, his face was more serious than I’d ever seen it. “There’s no easy way to say this. From everything we can tell, we think Chris was involved in her murder.”
The strength evaporated from my legs. I sank onto the loveseat. Owen sat beside me. He ran both hands through his hair. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice breaking on the words.
Michael nodded. “Reasonably sure. He was the main suspect from the beginning. And someone recently came forward with information tying Chris to the girl. I can’t go into the details of the case, but I wanted to prepare you.”
I put my arms around Owen’s neck and drew his head to my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” The pain and sadness in his eyes rocked me to my core.
“It’s okay,” he said. Despite his pain, his first thought was to comfort me, and it made me love him even more. “I’m not that surprised.”
“It was me,” Lanie said. Tears shimmered in her large eyes. “I told Michael what I knew about Chris.” Her tears began to flow faster, dripping from the point of her chin. “I’m so sorry, Owen. I know I should have come forward when Chris died, but I thought they’d send me away from Stella. And then you confessed, and everything went back to normal.” She twisted her hands, her pale skin getting whiter with each passing second. “The last time I saw Chris, we were down by the river. He’d been drinking, and he was different, colder. He kept talking about the Cartwright girl, and how much I reminded him of her. The more he talked, the more agitated he became. I took your knife with me. I was so mad at you, Stella, for butting into my life, and I knew you’d be pissed, so I took your knife, and I wore your favorite shirt. And then Chris got really aggressive, pushing me around and calling me a slut. I was so scared.” Her lips trembled. Michael put his arm around her shoulders. She smiled gratefully at him. “When he knocked me down, I pulled out the knife and—and—and—I had to do it. He would have killed me.”
Monster Love Page 15