The phone rang, but this time she was expecting it. “Hey, Scott,” she answered.
“Did I wake you?”
She smiled. Every night he called at nine, and every night he asked if he’d woken her.
“No, I swear that was just that one time. I almost always stay up late. How did your date go? Are you still on it?” she asked.
He hesitated, and she winced, wishing she hadn’t asked. First dates usually sucked. “Oh, it was fine. Nonstarter,” he said.
“I’m sorry. Did her picture match her profile?”
“Yeah, she was fine. Sweet. Just…no chemistry.”
“Mmm,” she said, worried again that he was holding out for her. She’d made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t interested in a relationship with him or anyone else right now, and he’d sworn he wasn’t after her for anything romantic, that he just wanted to be friends. But she wasn’t sure she bought it.
“So, my brother’s coming back next week,” she said.
“That’s good, right?”
“Yeah, I’m ready for him to be home. I’ll have to move, of course, but that’s not a bad thing.”
“You can’t stay there with him?”
She chuckled. “God, no. He’s bringing his girlfriend back. If I had to lay in the bed and listen to the wall thump, I think I’d cringe myself to death.”
“I hear you, but Bo can…” He trailed off. They both knew what he was trying to say.
“Protect me?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“You did, but it’s okay. I appreciate your concern. But I can’t live the rest of my life hiding in my brother’s guest room. I’ve got to get out sometime.”
“He’s out of rehab, you know.”
She exhaled a deep breath. “I know. He called tonight.”
“Do I need to get Travis involved?”
“No, thank you for the offer though. He’s done plenty. You have, too. You really have. I appreciate everything so much.”
“Stop thanking me, Shayla. I really don’t need you to do that again, okay? It kind of makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel like you’re indebted to me.”
That was exactly how she felt. Scott was the one who helped her get away. Her last day at work, he drove home with her with his cop friend in tow. Travis kept Brian occupied while Shayla gathered what she could. Shayla had refused to press charges. The last thing she wanted was a scene…a public record, pictures, proof that she’d allowed herself to be in an abusive relationship. She just wanted it all to go away.
Two months later, Scott was still calling her daily to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t sure how much of that was because he was a concerned friend, and how much was that he wanted more. There was just a feeling she had. Hints he’d dropped about how he’d always wanted to live at the beach. She’d responded with the negatives about the humidity, the traffic in the summer, even telling the story about the time Bo had run over a baby alligator on accident with his truck. He’d back off then, but another hint would come a week or two later.
“So what did Brian say to you?” Scott asked.
“You can probably guess. He wants to talk.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I’m not going to, of course,” she said.
“Why don’t you change your number?”
She turned the sound on the television down another notch. “I was already thinking about it.”
“Good. Well, I don’t want to keep you.”
“Thanks for calling,” she said.
“Of course. Text me if you get a new number.”
“Of course,” she said in return.
“All right. Good night, Shayla.”
Scott was a good guy. She wished she secretly had a thing for him, but when he said her name she felt nothing but friendship. She always loved it when a man she was interested in said her name.
“Good night.”
Her text alert dinged as she was hanging up. It was Chase sending her a few listings.
Is this your idea of reasonably priced?
They were, surprisingly. Two in Seacrest and one in Seagrove.
Actually yes. You’re good.
He texted her back with a picture of Bugs Bunny holding a carrot, all cool. She couldn’t help a smile.
She texted him back with a picture of Elmer Fudd holding his shotgun. Was that a stretch? Would he get it?
He texted back.
I deserve that. I promise not to use my key next time. Good night, Shayla.
That time, a tiny flutter knocked at her belly.
Chapter Two
Shayla pulled down Chase’s wooded and shaded street which was home to an eclectic mixture of houses of varying shapes, sizes, and ages. His looked a little older but was nothing to sneeze at. Tall like him with a lookout on the roof and painted navy blue and gray, it reminded her of sailing.
She sat in the driveway a minute, studying herself in the mirror and tried a smile. People smiled at handsome guys who were kind and smiling at them. She had to work on that. She looked like a psychopath.
She ran a hand over her forehead, pushing a deep breath out of her mouth. The front door opened, and he stepped out of the house, holding up a hand in a wave. She tried again with the smile, but a glance in the mirror showed her she couldn’t get it up to her eyes. She was way too stressed out to smile.
She got out of the car and headed to the front door, meeting his gaze. He was better looking today than he was last night, if that was possible. Of course, today her heart wasn’t beating like an animal being chased by a lion.
“Hey,” she said.
He opened the door and stood with his back against it. “Come on in. I’ve got some places pulled up on my computer.”
She stepped into his foyer and hung back to let him lead the way. They walked through to a kitchen that didn’t fit the age of the house. It was brand new from top to bottom, modern with sleek sliver, gray, and black lines and an island with a thick glass cutting top. “Did you have this recently remodeled?” she asked.
“I did, last fall. You know Seanna, Blake’s wife?”
“Yeah,” Shayla said. “We’ve met a couple of times. Her parents live in the town I lived and worked in back in Tennessee.”
“She did it.”
Shayla remembered that Seanna said she worked for Chase’s company. “It looks good. She works for you, right?”
“Yeah. She did this before I hired her. Hell, it’s part of why I hired her. She’s a workhorse.”
Shayla liked Seanna. She’d taken Shayla out to dinner when she’d come to visit her parents last March. That was when things were starting to head south with Brian. He’d been drinking whiskey while she was gone and by the time she’d gotten home, he’d worked himself into a mood, half-ass joking with Shayla, blaming her for everything from trolling for a new guy to having a lesbian experience. She hadn’t found him funny and made sure he knew it. His answer was to say he was joking, but his eyes were no laughing matter. He’d apologized, but the sincerity wasn’t there. He’d moved her to the bedroom in a way that almost felt more forceful than passion-filled. She’d acquiesced, trying to keep the dynamic light, for the first time fearing what she saw in his eyes and knowing the mood that whiskey could put him in. But she hadn’t enjoyed a second of that sex. Looking back, she should have walked out the door that night. She knew better now.
Seanna had contacted Shayla several times since she’d been back home to get together, but Shayla always had a reason why she couldn’t. She was too embarrassed to look her in the eye, even though Seanna knew nothing of what happened when Shayla got home that night.
Chase offered her a seat in front of the computer and pulled up a chair beside her, but not too close. “I’ve got the first one pulled up. It’s in Seagrove.”
He was so nice to her, and she’d nearly taken his head off last night. She turned to him. “Can I apologize for last night? You were just stopping by to introduc
e yourself and…” She wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.
“You swung a bat at my head?”
She dropped her head to the side. “For the record, I didn’t swing.”
“I was pretty afraid you might for a second there, till Jake welcomed me in, at least.”
“Well, anyway, I’m sorry. I’m typically not that crazed.”
He huffed a laugh. “I believe you. Any chance I can get you to tell me what put you in that state?”
She let out a breath, resigning herself to tell him some version of the truth for the sake of damage control. “I’d just hung up with my ex, and I was on edge.”
His practically permanent smile faded. “He does that to you, huh?”
“A little bit. It’s fine, and it’s over. I told him that definitively.”
“And I’m guessing he didn’t agree.”
She sighed and gave him a look. “He’s not one to take no for an answer. I’ll just say that.”
He frowned. “Doesn’t sound too respectful.”
Shayla thought about that first conversation she’d had on the phone with Brian when she got to Bo’s house. Brian had cried like a baby, pleading with her. She hadn’t told him she’d gone home, but she knew that would be the first place he’d look. He swore he was going to check himself into rehab, a two-month comprehensive program that included rehabilitation for domestic violence. Scott’s cop friend had talked to him about it while she was packing up. She wanted him to do it for the sake of the next woman he would inevitably date, but she was afraid he wouldn’t go through with it if he thought there was no hope for them on the other side, so she kept her wording vague, not promising anything but not padlocking any doors either.
“In his defense, we agreed to try something first, before we nailed the coffin shut. He held up his end of the bargain, and I still wanted out.”
He narrowed his gaze at her. “That’s your right, you know, to change your mind whenever you want. If he’s not man enough to accept that and move on, that’s his problem, not yours.”
She searched his gaze, appreciating his words but feeling a pull to disclose the full truth. She felt inauthentic not to. “What we tried, it was really all on his end. He’s the one who did all the work. I didn’t do anything.”
Chase stared at her in a way that made her feel like he was weeding through her careful words to the core of the truth, and she didn’t like it.
She turned to the computer. “Anyway, what did you find?” She scrolled down the page, looking at pictures. “This one’s in Seagrove?”
They spent the next half hour looking at what was available. He’d been thorough, presenting her with all possibilities. None offered any sort of security, not in her price range. He’d pulled a few that were a bit out of her range in gated communities, but she knew as well as anyone that a smile and a charismatic personality could get a bad guy into those without issue.
She marked the ones she was interested in. “Is this okay? Going to see these three?”
“Sounds good.” He reached for the laptop, aiming it in his direction. “Let me just forward these to my phone and we’ll head that way.”
She stood up and stretched, glancing out the kitchen window. Bo had mentioned that Chase had a nice pool, and he wasn’t kidding. Lagoon style with zero entry at the foot and a waterfall on the far side, semi-private hot tub around the back, all enclosed with a tall, spikey wrought-iron fence. It looked like an eight-footer. This place was as secure as Fort Knox.
A tiny house on the other side of the outdoor kitchen caught her attention. “Is that a pool house?” she asked.
“Yeah. I don’t really use it like one though.”
She turned back toward him. “Why not?”
He shrugged, still focused on the computer. “The main level guest room has a door that leads out to the pool. If anybody needs to change, they usually do it in there.”
“What’s in it? Just a room and a bathroom?”
“It’s got a little kitchen, too.”
“Shower?”
“Yeah.”
She moved closer to the window to get a better view. A gate led out to the driveway with a sophisticated lock on it. “You’ve got this place secure back here, don’t you?”
He shut his laptop and stood. “There’s some rentals on this street. It took a handful of unwanted visitors before I finally had that fencing put up.” He chuckled. “The final straw was a foursome of senior citizens in the hot tub, and they weren’t relaxing, I’ll tell you that.”
She gaped at him. “You’re kidding?”
“I’m not. I had Bo drain it while they were putting up the fence. You ready to go?”
She swallowed, nervous about asking the next question, but it was too perfect not to. “Have you ever considered renting it?”
His eyebrows went up. “You want to rent my pool house?”
She held up both hands. “Just consider it. I’d come in and out that back gate so you wouldn’t even know I was here. And if you had a…date back here, you could just text me, and I wouldn’t come home till you were back inside, I swear. Or if you didn’t want to text, you could just put a sock on the gate and I’d leave.”
He crossed his arms over his chest with an amused look on his face. “What are we, in college?”
She closed her eyes tightly, willing this to come through for her. It was too good to be true. The street itself was hidden. She’d never even noticed it before today and she’d grown up in the area. His driveway curved around the back, so she might even be able to hide her car from plain sight. Brian would never find her here. “Please, just consider it. It wouldn’t be for long. We could do a six-month lease. Three if you didn’t want to commit just yet.”
“Shayla, I’m not making you sign a lease.”
“Oh, no. I’d want one.”
“I mean, if you want to live here, you can just live here. I’ll need to get a cleaning crew in there first, but—”
She held up her hand again. “First of all, I would pay to lease it, of course. Secondly, I would clean it myself. I’d actually prefer to.”
He scratched his head, glancing around, and then he focused on her. “You really want to live here?”
She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to drive this home. “I don’t know you, but I’m asking for this favor. I need this.” He stared back at her, his eyes searching again. She cast her glance downward and pulled her hair back out of her face. “Will you just think about it?”
When she garnered the courage to meet his gaze again, a humorless smile played on his lips. “I don’t need to think about it.”
A breath of relief tumbled out of her. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be invisible.”
He smiled with his eyes this time. “I’d rather you not be, actually.”
His easy smile calmed her in a way she’d craved for months, going on a year if she was honest with herself. She pocketed her hands. “When can I move in?”
“Do you at least want to see it first?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
They headed that way, and she started feeling guilty for putting him in a position to pretty much have to say yes. But she couldn’t second guess herself. This was what she needed right now, at least until Brian settled down. He just needed time to get past this. Whether that was a few weeks or a few months, she didn’t know. But the work he’d done in rehab would have to help with his acceptance. He just needed time to process. She would find a different place when she was sure Brian was contained. Scott was keeping an eye out in Nashville. She just needed to go about her business here like everything was going to be fine, because it was. It’d have to be.
Chase opened the door to the pool house, and a muggy wall of heat assaulted her. He stepped inside and made his way to a thermostat. “I probably don’t even have it on.” He adjusted it while she gazed at her new place.
It wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d made it out to be. A double bed sat in the middle of the place with
a TV stand in front of it housing a television bought in this century.
“There’s no cable out here. I just never have messed with calling them to get out here and put in an outlet, but I can call them Monday.”
“No, please don’t,” she said. “I read a lot. I don’t even care about it.”
“It does get the local channels.”
“That’s all I need.”
He looked around. “This is all there is to it. I think it’s 300 square feet or something like that.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “Are you sure you don’t use this? You’ve got a bed in here.”
“No, I used the kitchen in here last fall when Seanna was redoing the one in the main house, but I haven’t been back in here since. I seriously don’t think that bed has ever been slept in. I bought it new when I moved in. I thought this would make a good guest house but I overestimated my popularity.” She gave him a look, and he shrugged. “People who do visit like to use the guest room so they can be in the main house, near the beer. I can move this bed out if you want to use your own bed.”
“No, this is good.”
“Where are you storing your furniture?” he asked.
Heat spread up to her cheeks. “I don’t really have any.” She walked to the bathroom, hoping to avoid more questioning. “You’ve even got a tub in here.”
“Yeah. We should probably check to make sure the water works okay.”
With a turn of the handle, the faucet sputtered to life. She looked at him with a smile. “It’s not even muddy and gross.” Moving past him, she made her way to the kitchen. The water worked fine there, too. She peered into the microwave. “Someone’s been using this.”
“That was me, back when Seanna was remodeling my kitchen, so that’s old food funk there.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Yum.”
“Well, I would have scraped it out if I’d known it was going to be inspected today.”
“Funk scraping is my favorite pastime.”
Seagrove Secrets (Love Along Hwy 30A) Page 2