He wipes his hands off and reaches for his sweet tea, eyeing me intently. “Maybe he was running from something too.”
“Maybe,” I agree. “But he had responsibilities and sometimes those come first.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. All I’m saying is maybe you shouldn’t focus so heavily on the bad he did all of the time. Maybe every once in a while you could remember the good he did, so the bad doesn’t consume you. Name one other good thing he did for you growing up? Please, baby? I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like you couldn’t help it.”
I sigh and clean my hands, trying to dredge up a memory. “He bought me my first book. Peter Cottontail. He came home on one of his highs with presents for everyone and he got me a book. I read it so many times the pages became thin and see-through. I think he got Becca a doll and Mom a necklace. It’s because of him I love to read. When he and Mom fought I disappeared into my book. He gave me an escape.” I smile before I can’t help it.
He smiles back, this huge, wide, gorgeous smile. “Thank you for sharing that.”
A new kind of heat moves over me. “You’re welcome.”
He takes his bib off. “I can’t eat anymore.”
“Me neither.” Crab and lobster are coming out of my nose and ears. I risk a glance at the check and cringe. “I feel bad.”
“I don’t.” He puts his credit card down. “I’m sure I’ll hear about this tomorrow.”
At the mention of tomorrow Kent is gone again. He is anger and resentment.
I sulk on the way out the restaurant, surprised to find the taxi is still waiting for us. The meter is out of this world.
“Take me to Enterprise,” Kent orders. “We’re renting a car.”
I keep my mouth shut as Kent rents the most expensive car they possess. I image the credit card is burning at this point. When we drive to the mall I am highly reluctant. But Kent is in a mood and I don’t want to push him as his arms become weighed down with shopping bags.
What did his dad do that’s worth blowing thousands for?
The look in his eyes reminds me that not too long ago Kent was running from something, and he is far from done.
Chapter Eleven
That night something wakes me. I roll over in Kent’s arms as I listen intently. However, I have a feeling the screaming I heard was in my dreams. A male voice sounding suspiciously like my father was screaming into my ear. His insults were strung together, indistinguishable obscenities that squeezed my heart.
“What’s wrong?” Kent asks, flinging his arm around me and pulling my naked body against his chest.
After we got home he’d dragged me into the room and ripped off my clothes, making love to me so roughly I had to admit I was a little tender. “I’m sore,” I chastise him.
He reaches down and gently slides his fingers into my middle, parting my lips and massaging me. My nightmare fades away. I jerk involuntarily and moan, opening my legs for him.
“Does this feel better?”
“Mhm,” I moan. His fingers find my clitoris and he massages me in a slow damaging circle until I’m falling apart in his arms. I lie there, breathless and immobile, until I can function again. I roll over and touch his face, finding his eyes in the dark. “What is it you’re not telling me?”
“All of the things we bought and we forgot condoms.” He sounds genuinely disappointed. “Maybe I’ll go buy some.”
What are we going to Tampa for? Kent could easily celebrate his birthday here.
“Maybe you’ll tell me what you’re running from.”
“Maybe you’ll marry me.”
“Maybe,” I agree, “if you’re honest with me. Always be honest with me.”
“You want to go to Tampa now?” He sounds so sad, so beaten. “We’ll get there a little after five if we leave now.”
Is this his way of being honest with me?
“Are you worried?”
“I’m not excited to meet your pregnant ex.” I roll my eyes at him, getting up and getting dressed with the new clothes he bought.
“Don’t remind me,” he grumbles, grabbing a black suitcase out of his closet. He starts packing it with his things. “How am I supposed to be happy for them?”
“You’re not. You don’t have to be negative either.”
He laughs once without humor. “They’re there. They told Mom the news over a week ago. Mom’s having them stay until my birthday is over. It’s a double party.” He sounds so bitter and angry I become bitter and angry too.
I bite my lip and step into my new gold sandals. “Why does she care about Willow?” I don’t get it.
“You ready? You want to call your sister before we leave?”
I look at myself in the mirror, admitting I look nice in my new skinny jeans and pink blouse. “No.”
“Then let’s jet.” Dressed in a white shirt and black jeans, he grabs his suitcase. He ties his boots and then grabs his keys and wallet out of his old jeans. “I’ll bring your things down,” he promises.
“Oh, I wasn’t going to lift a finger,” I assure him.
He laughs and shakes his head as we head downstairs. I sit in the passenger seat of the rental car as he loads everything into the back. It’s a sleek sports car, I will admit, with white leather seats and televisions in the headrest. I feel small in the carnivorous interior. Before he pulls out, Kent makes a face that scares me.
He’s heading toward the pain instead of away from it.
On the highway I settle down. One weekend can’t cause that much damage. I feel slightly selfish that all I’m worrying about is our relationship and not Kent’s feelings. But I can no longer sympathize with his sadness over Willow. A part of me refuses to be understanding. He can’t love me and her at the same time, it doesn’t work that way. I could never love another man after Kent, so I don’t understand why Willow moving on is killing him so much. I’m moving on. He’d better come with me.
It’s about a three hour drive from Jacksonville to Tampa, give or take Kent’s speeding. The entire time the radio does the talking for us. I can feel his nervous energy. It’s infectious. We’re both wound up and aggravated. I tap my fingers against the door handle and he taps his on the steering wheel. I want to demand he turn around. He’s obviously anxious. I am no better. Perhaps this weekend isn’t as harmless as I fooled myself into thinking it would be. The one woman who has managed to get between us the most is waiting for us. This time she might succeed.
When we get deeper into Tampa the houses start to grow in size. Kent stops in front of a gorgeous mansion on the bay, punching a number into the gates out front. After driving down a lush green driveway, he pulls into a cove lined with expensive cars. I am not in my element. The car he rented looks like a toy compared to the ones in the driveway.
He stops the engine and stares up at the mansion in dread and I in wonder. And okay, maybe a little irritation. I’m in love with someone who can sit in front of a mansion and only think about his problems. It dumbfounds me. My parents were far from rich and after Becca and I were on our own we never had our heads above water. This is a drastic change.
Movement catches my attention near the garage. “Who’s that?”
“The staff.”
“You have staff?” I laugh in disbelief and cover my hand with my mouth. “You’re kidding. What do they do?”
“Jest.” He shrugs. “Relax, Rain.”
“Listen, grumpy, it’s not every day I meet a man who can’t cut his own lawn.”
He runs a hand down his face and opens his door, not answering me.
A male wearing a white shirt and black pants waves at him. “Kent,” he says, walking over to us. “I hear you’re going to be a year older.”
“Mr. Greene.” Kent smiles politely as they shake hands. “You hear right.”
“I’ll bring your things up to your room.”
“Thanks, Mr. Greene.”
Mr. Greene glanc
es curiously at me before heading for the trunk.
“Come on, Rain.”
I scramble out of the car and run across the stone driveway to catch up with him. We approach an ornate patio. Glass rims the outside of the tall door and the sun glares off the surface, making the alcove over the entrance glow. This house was enormous. It looked like a Cape Cod-styled home on steroids with all of the sharp elegant angles and shimmering glass.
“Remember, I love you,” he promises. “No matter what I do, that’s what matters.”
He’s making me nervous. “I’ll remind you who loves you. Don’t worry.”
He bends down to kiss me, turning me so I’m in his arms. His kiss is desperate and intense. I reach up to run my fingers through his hair, needing to hold onto a part of him that can’t leave like the rest of him is. As I begin to catch up and deepen the kiss the front door opens and someone clears their throat.
Kent moves his lips to look at them. I’m too embarrassed. I hide my face against his chest.
“Mom,” he says.
Crap.
I peek at her and she’s nothing but sweet smiles.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a date. I am delighted, Kent.”
“I’m sure,” he grumbles. He releases me and embraces her face gently, kissing both her cheeks and then her forehead. He looks at her in a way I’ve never seen before. He’s younger and reticent. His smile is soft and endearing. I fall in love a little harder watching him interact with his mother. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Kent.” Her smile is affectionate and warm. She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tightly while I stand there awkwardly. “I’m so glad you’re home. My entire family is together again.”
He pulls away at her words. “Are they in there?”
She can barely look him in the eye. “They are. Kent, honey, please don’t ruin this for me.”
“For you?” His eyebrows skyrocket. “They ruined everything for me.”
He loves me, I remind myself.
“Kent Nicholson,” she begs quietly. “You will behave yourself. This weekend is for everyone.” She looks exactly like Kent, with her fair hair and dark eyes. Her face is beautiful and regal. “Not just you. I’ve always wanted grandchildren.”
I frown so deeply I have to turn away. Grandchildren? The realization hits me hard, taking my breath away. I know exactly why this is killing Kent. All this time I thought it was Willow who was driving the knife in him. But it wasn’t Willow at all. It was his brother, Scott. He was never running from Willow. He was running from his brother’s betrayal the entire time.
He growls quietly, no more hidden around her then he is around me. “I’m sure everyone’s so happy for Scott. The fucking bastard.”
“Kent!” his mother scolds. “It’s time you get over it.”
“I’ll never get over my brother getting my ex pregnant!”
He loves me.
His mother straightens her white blouse, as if doing so will straighten out the situation. “Who is this?” She smiles pleasantly at me. “I take it she knows our dirty family secret?”
“She knows everything. Mom, this is Raina. My girlfriend,” he adds proudly. “Rain, this is my mom, Vance.”
“Girlfriend?” His mother nearly bursts. She grabs me up in a hug and presses me to her. She smells like orange blossoms and shampoo. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Raina. What a pretty name for a pretty girl.”
“Thank you,” I reply, hugging her back awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
I’m still reeling from the realization that Scott and Willow are together, and Kent’s looking at me like I’m his, and his mother is smiling at me like she knows I love her son. I am overwhelmed to say the least.
“Let’s go inside. We were having breakfast. Are you hungry, Raina?” Vance grabs my hand and leads me into a white, high-reaching foyer.
I glance back at Kent, who is following at a distance. “Yes.”
“I’m going to go check out my room,” he says, and heads for the stairs spiraling toward the second floor.
“Let him go,” his mother orders tiredly. “It’s better we put this confrontation off for as long as possible. Do you mind meeting the family?”
“No.” She looks upset and I don’t want to add to it.
She smiles her thanks forcedly. “Thank you. Just know Kent is a possessive person. Always has been, always will be. When you take something from him, he never lets you live it down. His emotions in no way reflect how he feels about you.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but how do you know how he feels about me?”
“Because I didn’t meet Willow until Scott brought her home.”
I pull on her hand, forcing us both to a stop. “Kent never brought her home to meet you?”
“No.”
But he brought me?
Guessing my thoughts, she nods. “Scott went to visit Kent at school in Jacksonville and met Willow. Our family has been estranged ever since. Kent won’t talk to Scott and Scott won’t talk to Kent. They went from this—” She wraps her fingers around each other and then separates them wide. “—to this.”
“Do you blame him?” She was so removed from it.
“Honestly? Yes, I do. When your father spoils you, you learn to think people have to take your shit. People do not have to take Kent’s shit. I love my son, but sometimes I want to shake him.”
She and I both. “He is so spoiled.”
“He is,” she agrees. “But he’s also giving and unbearably honest. Never hides how he feels. Never has and never will. That’s why we’re going to breakfast without him.” She pushes a set of double swinging doors open and we enter into a beautiful kitchen.
The ceiling has thick wooden beams stretching across it. The floors are a deep brown wood and the cabinets are the color of milk, so white and creamy they gleam in the corner of my eye. At the end of the large kitchen is a huge family style table. Three people pile around it—a middle-aged man and two others. I’m mad at Kent for forcing me to meet Willow by myself.
This is his past. You’re together now. I guess it’s my past now too.
His mother clears her throat and everyone looks over quizzically. I balk when the man talking to Willow lifts his head. He is Kent. Gorgeous blond hair, handsome face, dark eyes. Except Scott is older and his eyes aren’t magnetizing. I can’t put it off any longer and finally take Willow in. She’s as beautiful in person as she is in the picture. Her long black hair frames her beautiful face in obsidian waves. Her green eyes are luminous. She looks flushed and happy. As I stare she cocks her head to the side, probably wondering why I’m looking at her so intensely.
“Everyone, this is Raina, Kent’s girlfriend,” Vance adds excitedly.
Willow looks confused. Now it’s my turn. She eyes me up and down. “Girlfriend?” she asks in surprise.
Damn it, even her voice is sexy.
“Yeah, girlfriend?” the older gentleman speaks up. He smiles at me. He’s handsome with dark hair and pale blue eyes. “I’m Brent, Kent’s father. Where is Kent?” He seems to find the fact that I’m here and Kent isn’t comical.
“He’ll be in,” Vance assures her husband, giving him a look.
He nods, as if her look makes perfect sense.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I mumble shyly.
“Oh, a sweet one.” He chuckles when I blush. “How does Kent manage that?”
“Just barely,” I answer, and his father’s laugh deepens. He holds out his hand and I shake it.
Vance urges me forward. “Raina, this is Willow, and my other son, Scott. And so on and so forth. Sit down, dear, and eat. There’s plenty.”
I nod at Willow, who nods back. Scotts reaches over and takes my hand. I have the distinct impression he’s doing it to piss Kent off even though he isn’t here. I shake his hand for as long as I have to.
“Morning, Raina,” he greets me, his voice deep and gruff.
“Morning,” I respond, my voice s
mall. Where is Kent?
I sit next to his mother. The chair next to me is empty. There is a feast. Bacon, eggs Florentine, fresh fruit, jam, and scones. Fresh orange juice is in a pitcher and Vance pours me a glass. I watch the orange liquid flow into my cup rather than stare at the happy couple at the end of the table.
“Thank you.”
“No problem, dear.”
“So where’s Kent?” Scott inquires. “I miss my little brother.”
I have to look up at that. Snot.
Willow gives him a cross look. “Stop.”
He winks at her, slime and slime. “Fine. So Willow. I mean Raina.” He laughs, but no one else is. “Honest mistake.”
Scott is the real pig. Kent was never a pig. He was trying to live with the betrayal of his brother burning in his heart. Anyone would be lost after that.
Willow sinks lower in her chair, twirling a ring on her finger.
“Cut it out,” Brent tells him crossly. “Leave Raina alone. And when Kent gets here I expect you to both act your age. We’re all adults. We’re all clearly moving forward and there’s no need to keep things in the past.”
I eye her ring finger. Does Kent know? Is that why he wants to marry me? I am suddenly pissed. I swallow my anger and pick up my fork, thinking things no one should think about the man they love. For a few minutes everyone eats in silence until movement catches Scott’s attention. He grins so damn maliciously I don’t have to look to know it’s Kent.
Brent wipes his mouth off and stands up, smiling at his son the way my father never smiled at me. “Son,” he says. Out the corner of my eye I see them embrace.
“You’ve aged,” Kent teases, his voice tight and strained.
“It’s your credit card statements every month. If you step foot into another bar I’ll cut you off.”
Kent forces out a chuckle. He walks around the table and kisses his mother on the top of her head, and then without another word he sits down next to me. He won’t even look at Willow and Scott. He grabs my hand and puts it on his lap, but I pull it free and make it so he can’t reach me.
He sighs and grabs a plate, stacking it high with food.
My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) Page 30