I know she means it innocently, but my mind goes to one thing, and one thing only: having her alone in my house—in my bed. My body suddenly feels hot, too hot. I stand up and look down at her.
“It’s too damn hot today. I’m going for a swim. Care to join me?” I shoot her a smirk before turning and walking away.
“Wait!” she calls after me, but I don’t stop. Right now, I need to cool down before I do something stupid. I yank my shirt over my head as I approach the pond. I kick off my boots and pull off my socks. Lastly, I empty my pockets of my keys, wallet, and phone. Seconds later, I’m running in until the water is deep enough, then I dive. The cool water feels like bliss on my overheated skin. It takes my boiling blood down to a simmer.
When I break the surface, I find her standing on the edge, hands on her hips.
“Come in! The waters great,” I tell her.
She wrinkles her nose. “What if there are snakes?”
I laugh. “You’re a country girl now. Can’t let a little wildlife scare you,” I tease, then splash some water in her direction.
She takes this as a challenge. She quickly kicks off her flip flops and runs toward me, kicking at the water and splashing me in the face. I laugh and close my eyes, blindly splashing back. Her giggle, the splashing of the water, and my pounding heart is all I can hear. I quickly open my eyes to find her. Without warning, I reach for her, pulling her deeper into the water.
She laughs and fights me off, kicking and splashing the whole way. She jumps up out of the water and pushes my head under. I fight my way back to the top and do the same to her. When she surfaces, she’s laughing and panting for breath. The splashing dies down as we focus on getting the oxygen we need.
My eyes find her face. Her dark hair is clinging to her cheeks and neck. Her green eyes are bright and shining, and her lips are parted with her heavy breathing. Our eyes lock and this calms the both of us.
“What are you staring at?” she asks softly, biting down on her lower lip.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, nearly a whisper. I lean forward, capturing her lips with mine. The moment we touch, it’s like a blind man seeing color for the first time. Suddenly, every kiss I’ve ever had can’t compare to this. When her tongue darts out and grazes mine, I pull her flush against me. Her arms wrap around my neck and her legs wrap around my hips as she deepens the kiss. Fuck, she feels good pressed against me. My body comes to life.
Her hand moves upward, fingers threading into my hair. She gently pulls, tugging at the root. When she nips my lower lip, my eyes open and lock on hers. This seems to break the spell because she pulls away, breaking our kiss. Her bottom lip starts to quiver. “I’m…I’m sorry,” she mumbles, pushing away from me and starting toward land. I stand there, chest deep in water, staring after her.
Fuck. How could I be this stupid? It occurs to me that I don’t know anything about her past. She could be mourning her dead husband or something, and I took it upon myself to kiss her? What the fuck is wrong with me? I stand in the water, watching her go and waiting to get my body under control. When she rounds the corner of the house, I finally walk toward land. I stop and grab my things but don’t bother putting them on. I carry everything back to the porch where I find her sitting. She’s resting her elbows on her knees, hanging her head. Her hair is falling between us like a curtain.
I sit beside her and take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I just…” I shake my head at myself. “I wasn’t thinking.” I look down at her hands, and her fingers are knotting together. It’s only now I see the tan line from her wedding ring. Fuck. I really fucked this up.
“It’s fine, Clay.”
“No, it’s not. I should’ve kept things professional. You’re a client. I never should have suggested we go swim. I was just hot and then we were having fun, and you just looked so beautiful…” I stand up, feeling too anxious to sit.
“I mean, no.” She stands up and steps toward me. “It’s not okay. Aren’t you with that waitress? I didn’t think you were that kind of guy.” Her brows are pulled together. Anger clearly marring her face.
That takes me aback. “What? How do you even know about that?” I hold my arms up at my sides.
“I saw you.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Last night. I picked Bryce up from daycare and then we went to get dinner. I saw you on our way back to the motel.”
I wave off her concerns. “That was nothing. We’re not together.”
Her brows arch. “It didn’t look like nothing. She hugged you pretty tight.”
“Autumn, I swear. It was nothing. We’re not together.”
She shrugs. “Still, we,” she motions between us, “aren’t a good idea. We need to keep things professional. It’s for the best…for everybody.”
I can’t disagree with her. She’s right. I’m not a family man. I would be no good coming into her son’s life, knowing that one day, I’ll leave it. Not to mention, she’s hiding something. I can see it in her eyes. Hell, I can see it on her finger plain as day. She has a past, and probably a dark one. I can’t fix her. I can’t even fix myself.
I nod. “You’re right. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.” Without another word, I walk into the house and pick back up where I left off.
As I paint the entry way, I can’t help but to think back on that kiss: the way her tongue curled with mine, her soft lips, her sweet taste. All of it brings goosebumps to my skin and causes my lungs to burn as my pulse quickens. Feeling her perfect body against mine will be something I think about later when I’m alone, when I can actually do something with the attraction I’m feeling towards her.
I hear the sound of a car starting, and I duck down so I can see out the front window. Her van is backing out of the drive. Great, I chased her off. I’ll be surprised if she shows up here again tomorrow. She probably doesn’t trust me enough to be alone with me now. I don’t blame her. I don’t trust myself. I thought I could. I thought I was strong enough. I pride myself on being able to walk away from situations that most men can’t.
Annoyance pumps through my veins and turns to anger. I’m hot, dripping wet, pissed off, and turned on all at the same time, and I have nothing to take it out on. I quickly finish up the painting since it needs to be done today so I can start on the floor tomorrow and then I clean up my mess. It’s going on three when I’m leaving. I have no place in mind to go until I’m passing by Drake’s and find him outside, brushing the horse.
I pull in and he looks over his shoulder at me. When I climb out and he sees me half naked and soaking wet, he laughs.
“What the hell happened to you? You fall in a lake?”
“No,” I say, closing the distance between us. “I jumped in…well, it was more like a pond actually.”
He rolls his eyes when he sees the look on my face. “What’d you do?”
“Why do you automatically assume I did something?”
He laughs. “You have that same guilty look on your face like you did when someone painted Mrs. Willard’s cat. Remember that?”
A grin makes its way to my lips. I was an ornery little shit. “It was watercolor. The damn cat was too white. It needed a little color.”
He shakes his head. “Come on, tell me what you fucked up this time,” Drake says, leading the horse into the barn.
9
Autumn
That kiss. That kiss was tantalizing, toe-curling, mind-blowing. I’ve never been kissed like that. For a moment, I was lost in it. I wanted more and I was prepared to take it. In that moment, with his hard chest pressed against mine, my thighs wrapped around his hips, feeling his hardness nudging against me, I wanted him completely. But then our eyes met, and I saw fire burning behind them. They were hooded, filled with lust and determination. If I had let him, there’s no doubt that he would’ve taken things further, and I’m not sure how that makes me feel.
I want him. God knows I want him. But he’s something I can’t have, can’t allow myself to take. How am I going to re
sist him? Especially now that I know he wants me just as badly.
Then my thoughts shift to that waitress. He said they’re not together, and he doesn’t strike me as the player type, but maybe he is. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in this position, but I’ve never been in this exact situation before. Why can’t I just be one of those thoughtless women who don’t think of the consequences? Why can’t I just have what I want for once? Me and him, we could keep things casual, right?
Wrong. I have a son. A little boy who doesn’t need another man ripped from his life. No matter what I do, I have to stay away from Clay. My hands are shaking as I drive away from the house, away from him. I’m not sure if they’re shaking from anger or need or desperation, but they’re shaking, and I know the only thing that will make them stop is time. I need to get him off my mind and out of my system.
I can’t go pick Bryce up soaking wet, so I run to the motel to shower and put on some dry clothes. I park my van and fumble with the keys as I make my way toward the door. I put the key in the lock and turn. The door opens easily. As I’m looking down to remove the key, my eyes lands on an envelope on the floor. It’s crinkled like it was shoved under the door. With shaking hands, I bend down and pick it up. I flip it over and see my name, Autumn, scrawled out across the front. I know that handwriting.
I quickly tear it open and pull out a single sheet of paper.
I hope you’re enjoying Colorado. I’m coming for my son. You can’t stop me.
Your loving husband.
I quickly slam the door. Tears fill my eyes, blurring my vision and falling over the rims. My hands are now shaking for an entirely different reason. I sit on the edge of a nearby chair and stare down at the note. I can’t believe he found me. How did he find me? I’ve been extra carful not to use any of our credit cards. I left my phone at home so I couldn’t be tracked that way. How else could he be doing this?
Is he in town now? Is he watching me? Has he seen me with Clay? I always assumed that Glenn would want to take me back, but the letter only says he’s coming for his son. He’s crazy if he thinks I’m letting him go.
Suddenly, I’m in a hurry. I need Bryce by my side. I need to make sure he’s all right. I pull my wet clothes off and pull on some dry ones as quickly as possible. Two minutes later, I’m back in my van, driving toward the daycare. When I walk in, my eyes immediately find Bryce. Seeing him safe lets me breathe a sigh of relief.
“Hi, Mommy!” he yells, waving his red paint-covered hand at me.
I force a smile and wave.
“Here early today?” one of the workers asks me.
I nod. “Can I speak with you for a moment?”
“Of course,” she replies, motioning for me to join her in the office.
She sits behind the desk, and I sit directly in front of her. “I was just wondering…” I start, but don’t know how to finish without giving up at least part of my past, a past I just want to forget. “I just wanted to make sure that I’m the only one that can pick up Bryce. I mean, if a family member or say, another parent, shows up, they can’t pick him up, can they?”
She shakes her head. “No, not at all. The only person we can release Bryce to is you, which means that even if you can’t get here and you send someone else, we can’t release him to anyone without your written consent. Is there someone else you want to add to the approved pick-up list?”
“No, I should be the only one.” I feel my hands shake less and less as time passes. “One more thing, I know I had to put Bryce’s social security number on the forms, but does anyone else see those? Do you run them into any systems?”
She nods and my stomach drops. “The children’s forms are all run through our database so their files can be pulled electronically. The system also compares the social and photo to those in the police department’s database and from centers for missing children…just to be on the safe side.”
I freeze. If Glenn put a watch on Bryce’s and my social security numbers, every time they’re entered into a computer, he will know. But is he that smart? He is best friends with someone on the police force back home—maybe Sam helped him out with this?
“I’m going to go ahead and take Bryce a little early today,” I tell her, tightening my hold on my purse, grasping for my sanity.
“Sure, I’ll go get him cleaned up for you.” She stands and leaves the office, but I sit frozen. Glenn knows where we are and he says he’s coming, but when? Is this just a scare tactic to maintain his power over me? Is he really coming? If so, when? Why bother sending a note? Wouldn’t the element of surprise be much better?
“Here we are. He’s all ready. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bryce.”
I stand up and smile, telling her thank you as I take Bryce’s hand.
Bryce tells me about his day on the way back to the motel. Pulling into the parking lot, fear consumes me. I shift into park and look around, needing to be extra vigilant. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. The tree at the back corner of the motel is blowing softly in the breeze. The cleaning lady is going room to room, leaving her cleaning cart outside of the doors. The parking lot is nearly empty.
“What are we waiting for?” Bryce asks, unbuckling and standing up to look out the windshield.
“Nothing. I was just thinking,” I reply, shutting off the engine and climbing out.
It feels as if every hair on the back of my neck is standing on end as I stand at the door, unlocking it. When it opens, I look down, almost expecting to find another note, but there’s nothing. We go inside and I lock the door behind us. I still feel as though I’m being watched, like danger lurks behind every corner. I casually check out Bryce’s room and bathroom before moving to check my own. We’re completely alone. I sink onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
Glenn has always been power hungry. He’s always wanted control over what I did, what I wore, where I went, who I’d go with. He picked my friends based on who he thought he could trust to report back to him about me. He made my schedule, not allowing me to work certain days or hours. Hell, he even planned the weekly dinner menu and then would usually go with me to the store to make sure I stuck to the items on the list. I’m sure this note is just a way to scare me, to make me feel like he’s still in control. It doesn’t mean that he’s not coming, but for now, he’s happy with the fear he’s inserted into my life again. There’s no way I’m ready to pack up and run again. I just bought the farmhouse and it’s not even completed yet. That thing has been on the market for the last five years. There’s no way I could sell it in its current condition. The money I have left is already set aside for the construction company and what we’ll need to survive until the place is up and running and bringing in money. I literally have nothing else. To run now would be to take a major loss.
I decide that I’ll ride this out for a while. I’ll contact some of my friends and see if they can keep an eye on Glenn for me. Maybe they can alert me if he’s planning a trip or hasn’t been home for a while. At least then I’ll have a head start. I’ll put all of my energy into fixing up this house. By the end, if I feel like Glenn is still a threat, I’ll sell it. I’ll take the money and run. But maybe by then, Glenn will have let go, and I’ll be able to move forward with my plans of opening the bed-and-breakfast.
Even though I’ve made my decision, I’m still feeling a bit off and guarded. I decide that Bryce and I will stay locked up safe tonight. No diner. We have a microwave and a hot plate in the room, so I’ll be able to fix us something to keep us fed for the evening. In the morning, we’ll leave a bit early and go have breakfast at the diner.
A week passes quickly, and I’ve not heard a single thing from Glenn or my friends who agreed to keep an eye on his whereabouts. It seems I was right about his scare tactic. I’ve done what I said I would, I’ve poured all of my energy into repairing this farmhouse with Clay, but things between us have been strained since that kiss.
That kiss. I haven’t even given myself a moment to think about it. I’ve
been so preoccupied with Glenn, working on the house, and keeping a close eye on Bryce that we haven’t addressed it again. In fact, we haven’t talked about anything other than decision making when it comes to the house. Every day, we have a quick, awkward meeting. We decide what we’re working on and then split up to do our jobs. We never make eye contact and we talk as little as possible, usually opting to be in separate rooms. Things between us have been put on ice—exactly where they need to be.
I do miss the friendship we were building though. I miss talking and laughing with him. I miss working together, having lunch together, and joking around. I miss the way I’d catch him checking me out when he thought I wasn’t looking. And I miss being able to do the same when he was focusing on his work. Everything between us now feels awkward and strained. I wish there was some way of putting it all behind us and going back to how things were.
Today, I’m in the kitchen, breaking the tiles loose, while he’s in the bathroom, doing the same. I keep music playing at all times. I find the silence to be haunting here lately. It only reminds me that Clay and I aren’t talking, and it causes a panic to rise in my chest when I hear a strange sound and immediately wonder if Glenn is lurking around somewhere.
When noon rolls around, I see Clay walk down the hall and out onto the front porch to eat his lunch. A long breath leaves me and my shoulders fall. Enough is enough. This needs to be fixed. I follow him out and sit beside him. He looks at me from the corner of his eye but doesn’t talk.
Finally, I break the silence. “This is crazy, don’t you think?”
I see one of his brows lift in question. “I’m not sure what you mean,” he replies. The deep, raspy sound of his voice cuts through me, causing goosebumps to prickle my skin.
“This.” I motion between us. “You and me. I mean, we’re adults. We can handle this. There’s no need in avoiding one another. It just makes everything awkward. I used to enjoy coming here and working on the house with you. I enjoyed our little talks and our lunches. And now, it just feels strained.”
Baby Secret (Slade Brothers Book 3) Page 6