Seclusion

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Seclusion Page 11

by Leanne Davis


  Why he’d shown Seclusion to Angie still escaped him. The girl who wanted nothing to do with Seaclusion, no ties to it at all, is the girl he decides to show his wrecked house to? A house that would totally tie him to Seaclusion. The house whose entire significance in his life was to have a place of permanence, everything Angie Peters never wanted. It made no sense why he took her there, or why he felt so compelled to get her opinion. And it really wasn’t such a shock, Angie’s first opinion of him, was that he couldn’t do it. He’d made a mistake.

  Truth was, he feared so too. That he’d never get it fixed up right. Or that he’d run out of money, do it wrong, not be able to get the house done, and end up living with his sister forever in his trailer.

  It wasn’t much, his dreams for Seclusion. It was just a house. It wasn’t like Angie’s dreams, her ambitions of a career. Of getting as far from Seaclusion as she could. But he had everything tied up in it. Much like she did her dreams.

  What had he hoped? He’d make her see him as more. More than some loser who drank beer and cried about his life and parents? What had he dreamed? That Angie Peters would finally see him as a man who was capable, confident, and with a plan he could accomplish?

  What did he want? Another broken heart at the feet of Angie Peters? Trouble was, hadn’t he been in love with her for eight years? How could he stop now when she was for once, actually noticing him?

  “Why don’t you ask her out?”

  Sean’s gaze jerked up to Scott’s. Scott stood across the top of the car, leaning against the roof.

  “What?”

  “Angie. Why don’t you ask her out? Go for dinner. See where it gets you.”

  Sean shifted his feet. “Why would you say that?”

  “I got eyes, kid.”

  “So?”

  “So. You’re staring after her how I used to your sister. So ask her out.”

  Sean considered Scott. “Don’t you have a problem with that? Aren’t you going to try and kick my ass again?”

  “You were fifteen. She was pregnant. Different life. Different circumstances. I get it. She’s an adult now. But you’re going to get nowhere avoiding her.”

  “I’m not avoiding her. She won’t go out with me. She thinks, hell, I don’t know what she thinks of me.”

  “Obviously this weekend you meant something,” Scott said dryly.

  Sean didn’t like this conversation. “She said it meant nothing.”

  “She says a lot of things to avoid being hurt. You’ve met her mother. You know why she does that. You’re at more of an advantage than most with her. She’ll push anyone away who wants to get close. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to though. What can you lose to ask her out?”

  “She won’t go.”

  “She might.”

  “There’s a lot of...reasons why we can’t date.”

  “Like what? Amy?”

  “Obviously. And—”

  “And what?”

  Sean stared down at his feet, too ashamed to hold Scott’s eye. “Just some things that could be a problem.”

  Scott let out a curse. “Vanessa? Really, Sean? You slept with Vanessa?”

  Sean shrugged, feeling even lousier after hearing Scott say it out loud than he had before. Scott snapped, “You know she about broke me and your sister up, don’t you?”

  Sean jerked his gaze to Scott. “Who? Vanessa?”

  “Yeah, Vanessa.”

  “You and she—”

  “Long time ago. Shit, Sean. Really, why couldn’t you pick any other woman?”

  “Apparently you know why.”

  Scott glared at Sean. “Vanessa is her mother. She’ll have a tough time getting past that one. I almost can’t blame her.”

  “I’m not planning on telling her.”

  “Better you tell her than Vanessa.”

  “Vanessa won’t tell her.”

  “You willing to bet whatever relationship you might have on that? On Vanessa? She isn’t known for her discretion, nor doing what’s right for Angie. I spent most of Angie’s life fighting Vanessa’s natural impulses.”

  Scott was right. But Sean also knew there was no way Angie would ever speak to him again, let alone go out with him if she knew he’d slept with her mother. And in most situations, he’d agree sleeping with her mother had been a sleazy thing to do. But the thing was, Angie had been gone for six years, and he’d been here. He’d been young, dumb, and Vanessa had come on strong when she wanted to. No matter how bad he felt about it, he couldn’t change it, and telling Angie would only cement forever her low opinion of him. If he could make her see him as he was now, maybe by the time he had to tell her about Vanessa she could get past it. He saw no other course, not if he wanted to ever see Angie again. And for some reason, as long as he could remember, that was exactly what he wanted.

  “You think I should ask out Angie Peters?” Sean said finally testing out how it felt to say it.

  Scott smiled. “About time you took my niece to a proper dinner, isn’t it?”

  Sean didn’t smile back, and then frowned and turned away. His stomach cramped in knots. What would Angie say to him? Could he really ask her out? Something so normal? So ordinary? So what other couples did? Could he really simply ask out the girl he’d always been in love with?

  Chapter 12

  Angie sat in the den, laptop open before her as her fingers were flying over the keyboard with impressive speed. She wore her usual, t-shirt and cargo pants, hair in a braid down her back. Sean knocked on the doorjamb so she’d be aware of him standing there. She turned around. He came inside the room, and stood a few feet back from her.

  He put his hands in his pockets.

  “Finally start your thesis?”

  She glanced up. “Yes.”

  “How’s it coming?”

  “Well, I got my name on the paper, so I guess, okay. At least I’m starting it.”

  He couldn’t imagine the type of paper she was attempting to write. Surrounding Angie were books and pamphlets, with sheets and sheets of paper to assist her in writing her graduate level thesis. It made the top of his head spin to imagine doing such a thing. He would be able to put his name down on the page, and that was about it.

  “I want to keep on here. Do you want something?”

  He straightened. There was no lingering with Angie, no idle chit chat, no working up to things. He knew that. He had to keep on his toes with her. She was a bowling ball mowing down anyone around her; there was no waiting, no hesitation. There was action or there was leaving her alone.

  “You want to go out or something?”

  Her eyebrows arched in surprise. He wanted to hit his fist to his head. Want to go out or something? Christ, he said that to Jerry, not exactly how he wanted to come off to Angie, who already too easily thought he was a loser. All he had to add was dude, and she’d totally reject him.

  “I meant, go out together for dinner and a movie, you know, like a real date. The real thing.”

  Angie leaned back in her chair. She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Why? Why would we do that?”

  “Why?” He rolled his eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Why not? We never have been on an actual date. I thought it might be time. I thought we could try being normal.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t see why we should. I can come over or something later.”

  “I wasn’t asking you to come over for sex. I was asking you to go out on a date with me. I don’t need to get laid,” he said, letting out another curse, at her surprised expression. “Forget it. It’s not a mathematical equation to figure out. You either want to go or not. End of story. Obviously, you don’t want to. Forget I asked.”

  He spun on his heel to leave, his face burning, and his gut in knots of embarrassment. She could so easily take what other girls would consider a nice gesture, even a romantic one, and make him feel like a royal, stupid jackass.

  “Sean, wait.”

  He didn’t. He kept walking down the hallway, out the ba
ck door, over the deck toward his trailer. He slammed the door behind him when he heard her say his name again.

  She came in seconds later, having run after him. “Look, I’m sorry. I guess I thought you just wanted...well I can see that’s not what you wanted. So yeah, sure, I’ll go out with you.”

  He stopped and stared back at her. He almost told her to not do him any favors, instead he nodded.

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. This Saturday?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, I’ll be here.”

  “Great. Try and dress like a girl.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we won’t be going to The Oyster, so wear something that isn’t unisex.”

  “Take me or leave me. I don’t do games.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t looking to make a political statement. I was thinking there’s a dress code where we’re going. This isn’t a save the earth rally. It’s dinner out. Figure it out.”

  He nearly pushed her out of the trailer and shut the door in her face before she could start scathing him some more with her feminist views on what a misogynistic ass he was. He was more interested in the fact that she’d said yes. And the less they talked, the less chance he stood of her changing her mind.

  She banged on the door again until he finally opened it.

  “What time on Saturday?”

  “Six.”

  “Fine, I’ll be ready at six, but don’t expect me to wear something slutty.”

  “God forbid, we wouldn’t want that. Someone else might figure out you have breasts.”

  “You could put the women’s movement back twenty years, you know that?”

  “We all have our strengths, sweetheart,” he said as he shut the door on her again, smiling to himself at her tone. Yeah, he kind of liked her not being like other girls trying to please him.

  Angie waited in the living room on Saturday, glancing at the clock again as the minute hand finally hit five to six. She’d checked it once already to make sure the batteries were actually working. It was. Time was just moving strangely slow. She had already had a talk with herself how pointless it was to feel nervous for tonight, for six o’clock to come. It was Sean for God’s sake.

  Scott and Sarah were cleaning up their dinner dishes. The girls were in various rooms playing, screaming, and making general mayhem. Angie sat on the couch pretending to watch some eighties movie. Finally, she heard the kitchen door open. Sean. He was there.

  There was a change in the kitchen. It was as if all went totally still and silent. What had paused Scott and Sarah? Angie rushed into the kitchen and stopped dead.

  Sean didn’t look like Sean. Not a smidgeon of the hoodlum, looking-for-a-good-time, Sean Langston, remained.

  He had on a suit, a real, honest-to-God, gray suit, snowy white button up shirt, and tie. But what had silenced everyone was Sean had cut his hair off.

  “You look,” Sarah started to say, then teared up with emotions as she stared at her younger brother. “You look wonderful. I can’t believe it’s you.”

  Sean shifted his feet, rolling his shoulders under Sarah’s attention. He barely glanced at Angie. With a lift of his eyeballs he sighed, “It’s a haircut.”

  “No. It’s the grown up version of you. I just thought it would be awhile more. I knew you would get there.”

  Sean groaned. “Really, it’s a haircut.”

  Angie chewed her lip. Shit. Sean could finally go ahead and be the clothing model, that his face seemed born to be. His brown hair was feathered off his head, styled, and clean cut, but not too short. The dark strands were glossy, gleaming, under the kitchen lights. His suit followed his long frame, and highlighted his devastating face. A face that had always been that handsome, but somehow hidden under straggly hair and ripped up clothes. He hadn’t been quite so intimidating as he looked now.

  Sean glanced her way. He scowled as his gaze slid over her. She knew why. She didn’t look like he’d wanted. She had on cargo pants and a t-shirt. Her only concession for their date tonight was her hair was down.

  “I thought I told you to dress like a girl.”

  “I thought you meant put my hair down.”

  “I told you we weren’t going to The Oyster.”

  “The only other restaurant in town is the café. I figured you were exaggerating.”

  “Didn’t it occur to you that we could leave Seaclusion? I’m not a total hick, you know. I can figure out how to plan a nice date.”

  She’d hurt his feelings. His blustering insults usually came about when she’d inadvertently hurt his ego. He was right; she assumed it wouldn’t occur to him to leave Seaclusion.

  Scott and Sarah were looking between them, listening, but silent. Sarah frowned in disapproval.

  “I’ll be right back,” Angie said, rushing down the hall before Sean yelled at her some more.

  When she neared her bedroom door, she heard

  Sarah hiss, “You might want to be a little nicer to her, if you intend for this to be a date. You sound like I do when I’m scolding one of the girls.”

  “Yeah, well, sometimes the girls are easier to deal with than Angie is,” Sean muttered. Angie shut her door so as not to hear the rest.

  Sean was leaning against the kitchen counter waiting when Angie rounded the corner into the kitchen. He straightened and his eyes went from the top of her head all the way down to her toes. She was surprised to find that she liked him appraising her, and more a bruise to her usual pride, she kind of liked the approval in his eyes.

  She wasn’t a complete barbarian. She did know how to dress up when the time called for it. So she put on a simple black dress, cut above her knees, that followed the line of her body in a tank style top. She’d wrapped a red and black patterned scarf around her neck for color, and left her long hair free. Why men got such a turn on off of long hair, especially blond hair, always puzzled her.

  One of the reasons she’d been drawn to her professor, is that he’d never leered at her as if he only saw a pair of tits and that was the sole focus of his wanting to get to know her.

  Sean was ogling her like that was the sole thought in his head, and to her surprise, she flushed in pleasure, at his pleasure with her appearance. There was a flutter down in her stomach at his approval of her. How juvenile, how silly to get sexual gratification from looking good enough for some guy. That was why she didn’t bother with such things. Except for the fact that she’d bothered specifically for Sean Langston. Why that was she couldn’t name.

  “Better?” she finally asked.

  He finally nodded and visibly swallowed. “Better.” Scott had left the room; Sarah was appraising them. Angie could tell Sarah wanted to say something. She didn’t like Angie’s lack of fashion sense, or her need to completely not impress the opposite sex. Nor did she approve of Sean’s lack of finesse, and lack of flattery skills. Sean usually said the complete inappropriate thing, and took the least gentlemanly route in any situation.

  Thing was, that’s what Angie appreciated the most about Sean, he never bullshit her. It wasn’t pretenses with him. It was real. All of it. The bad. The surprisingly increasing good between them, and everything in between.

  Sarah finally sighed. “How have you two ever found other dates? I’ve never seen two people worse at flirting, hell at being polite, in my life.”

  Sean smiled at his sister. Taking Angie’s heart and twisting it. He looked completely different tonight, movie star devastating, and the change had her suddenly feeling weird. Feeling almost like she was intimidated by him. Almost like she was suddenly finding him attractive. Finding him completely captivating.

  “Angie and I understand each other perfectly. She doesn’t know how to be a girl, and I don’t know how to pretend to be one of her ass-kissing, wimpy boyfriends. Ready, Angie?”

  “Yes,” she said, surprised how shy, how nervous, how utterly girl-like she was responding to Sean. She had to keep reminding herself, this was Sean. Sean Langston. Of the
pony tail, of the macho say everything wrong and inappropriate. Of big trucks and small dreams. She had to remember Sean Langston was nothing more than a minor diversion in her great, big, scary, and mistake-ridden life.

  Sean went out the door first. He held the door for her. She almost missed a step when she realized he was holding the door for her. She was about to ask where the hidden camera was when he opened the door on his truck for her, held it as she got in, and then shut it after her. She sat there, somewhat stunned in all the gentlemanly gestures that she didn’t think Sean even knew about. What the hell was this? Who was this?

  He got in the cab. When the overhead light flashed it showed that the cab was all cleaned up. Had he done that for this? For her? For this date?

  He started the truck and pulled out of the driveway without another word to her. Without looking at her. The silence was suffocating. Strange. Nervous. It was like they were two strangers on a blind date. She couldn’t think of a single thing to say. They knew everything about each other, but suddenly she couldn’t recall a coherent fact about him to start a conversation. And he didn’t seem to be able to either. He glanced at her. She glanced at him. They looked away at the same moment. Well hell, what was this? What was this suddenly strange and intense thing between them? Why were they nervous, for God’s sake? She couldn’t begin to explain it.

  She cleared her throat and finally asked, “Why did you cut your hair?”

  “Why? Is it a problem?”

  “No. It looks nice. I mean, I’m the one who told you to cut it. So, of course, it’s not a problem. I just wondered.”

  “You mean if I cut my hair to impress you?”

  “Of course not. Why would you bother for me?”

  “I’m trying to get a loan from the bank to start remodeling Seclusion, and I thought I’d look older, more responsible, and more trustworthy with a haircut.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. Does Sarah know? About your plans?”

  “Yes. I can’t do it without them. They’ll co-sign for me on anything. I hate making them do it, but there’s no one else.”

 

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