Guardian (The Guardian Trilogy)

by Sara Mack

  I eye him suspiciously. “So you never planned on telling me?”

  He looks down and says nothing.

  “I take it that’s a yes,” I scowl.

  His head snaps up. “What was I supposed to tell you? ‘Hi, I’m back from the dead. By the way, the last night of my life, I ran into this girl I knew at a bar and ended up comforting her because she told me she’d considered suicide?’ Sorry, but I thought we had more pressing things to discuss.”

  I cross my arms and look him in the eye. “Then I guess it’s a miracle that I ran into her tonight.”

  We sit in silence for a few moments staring at each other. It’s hard to put my thoughts into words.

  “Did you like her?” I finally ask, not sure I want to know the answer.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, did you like her? Would you have seen her again? Did you think about cheat –?”

  “Jesus, Emma, no!” James shouts, cutting off my insecure thoughts. “The thought of cheating on you never crossed my mind!” He reaches out, grabs on to the top of my arms, and leans in to me. “I would never…I have never cheated on you,” he says solemnly.

  I believe him. I do.

  “I’m sorry,” he continues. “Honestly, it was like comforting a sister. I couldn’t just walk away from her, not after what she’d told me. I had to do something to help.”

  In my mind, I turn over what he is saying. “Did you have to kiss her?” I press. “Or give her your clothes?”

  James looks pained. “No,” he concedes quietly.

  My mouth falls open.

  “I can see how this looks to you,” he says. “If the situation were reversed I know how I would feel. All I can do is give you my word. I was only trying to help her.” He pauses. “I love you with my whole being. I always have and I always will.”

  My stern expression falters. I don’t doubt that he’s being sincere.

  He releases my arms and stands. “Do you want me to leave?”

  I sigh, resigned to the fact that I’d never want him to go regardless of his actions. I stand and reach for his hand. He places his in mine, and I pull him toward the stairs.

  “I get to stay?” he asks as he follows me.

  I turn and give him a condescending look. “Of course. Don’t be stupid.”

  As we walk up the stairs, I hear my cell chime a message notification. I pull my phone out of my purse as soon as we make it to my room.

  Are you okay? It’s a text from Shel.

  Everything is fine, I send back to her. At home. Going to bed.

  I set my phone on my dresser and mechanically go about getting ready for bed. I notice my window is wide open and walk over to shut it. I don’t remember opening it. James watches me as I work my way around the room. My phone chimes again.

  Need me to come over?

  No, I respond. Stay with Matt. Have fun. Talk to you tomorrow.

  I get changed and crawl under the sheets. I lean over, turn out the light, and wait for James to join me. A few seconds pass and I don’t feel him beside me. “Are you coming?” I ask into the darkness.

  “Yes,” I hear him say sadly from across the room.

  A moment later I feel the familiar cool feeling of him lying behind me, one arm draped over my side. Despite being upset with him, I have missed this so much. I scoot backward a little bit to press myself against him.

  Minutes pass as neither of us says anything. I start to wonder if now he’s angry with me. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re really mad at me,” he says.

  “How do you know?”

  “You turned off the light.”

  “So?”

  “Can’t you bear to look at me?”

  He’s right. I always leave the light on when he’s here. I don’t know what I was thinking. I turn over and lean forward to turn the light back on. He immediately comes into focus as I lie back down. “Sorry,” I apologize.

  He presses his forehead to mine. “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I should have found a way to tell you.”

  “She’s pretty,” slips out of my mouth for some strange reason.

  Without hesitation he says, “You’re beautiful.”

  “I’m jealous,” I admit.

  “Of her? Why?”

  “She got to spend the last night of your life with you. I didn’t.”

  He raises his head to look at me. “You have me for eternity.”

  How can I argue with that? He stares at me intently and leans forward to kiss me. I respond eagerly; I have missed him so much.

  “Will you forgive me?” he asks.

  Even though I still have nagging feelings about what happened, I concede. “Already done.”

  His eyes widen with surprise.

  “Don’t think I won’t bring it up again,” I warn him. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions about little Miss….”

  “Rebecca.”

  Sarcastically, I arch a brow. “Oh, she has a name?”

  James grimaces. “Can we not talk about her anymore?”

  “For now.”

  I can see his arms move to pull me closer, so I shift toward him. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you, too,” he says as he kisses my hair.

  “Are you learning a lot? Catching up?”

  “It’s been…intense.”

  His lips brush my neck, and a chill courses through me. I tilt my head to give him better access. “Garrett’s happy?”

  “I think so.”

  He works his way along my jaw. “Is this the first time you’ve been back?” I breathe.

  “Um-hmm,” he murmurs under my ear.

  “So you don’t know about Matt and Shel? About Dane?”

  James stops kissing me and meets my eyes, curious. “No.”

  I can’t help my smile. This is going to be good. “Matt stopped by the other day. He is madly in love with Shel. Can you believe it?”

  “Seriously?”

  “He has it bad for her,” I emphasize bad with a wiggle of my eyebrows. “Shel asked him to keep an eye on me while she’s in Arizona, and he agreed. He recruited Dane to help since he can’t be around me all day. Dane only agreed to work at the course to help Matt. So, you can stop being jealous now Mr. Paranoid.”

  James laughs.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “Matt may like Shel, but his friend doesn’t.”

  “So?”

  “So? What’s his obligation to help Matt land Shel? What does he care? The only thing he cares about is you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I don’t believe that. He’s a good friend.”

  “Em, listen to me. I’m a guy. I’ve been friends with guys. We don’t give up a whole summer to help out a buddy with a girl unless there’s something in it for us.”

  Ugh! This is not how this conversation was supposed to go. “Can’t you just be relieved and feel better about our situation?”

  “Sure,” he shrugs. “If that’s what you want.”

  “That’s what I want!”

  “Well…then, done,” he says.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “You’ll see. Dane can’t keep this friend thing up forever. Trust me.”

  “So you’re going to drop it now just so that you can say ‘I told you so’ later?”

  “You’re so stubborn it’s worth it,” he smiles.

  “You suck,” I pout. “I thought this would make you happy.”

  “I won’t lie; the Matt thing does make me happy, although I don’t get what he sees in Shel.”

  I scowl at him. “I would hope not.”

  James kisses my cheek. “I trust you. Stop worrying. A little jealousy is healthy in a relationship.”

  “Really? I don’t care for the feeling myself.”

  “Let’s make a deal,” he props himself up on his elbow to look down at me. “I’ll try very
hard not to be jealous of Dane if you try very hard not to be jealous of Rebecca.”

  The idea rolls around in my head. Sounds easier said than done, but… “I’m game.”

  James offers his free hand. I place mine in his and we shake on our deal. He springs forward unexpectedly, passing through my fingers, and kissing me hard. The cool feeling of his hand wraps around the back of my neck and then splays up into my hair. He’s trying to distract me, and it works. When his mouth stops moving against mine, I open my eyes to see him staring down at me.

  “How long can you stay?” I ask him, breathless.

  His eyes cloud over and he shrugs, unable to answer.

  I glance at the time. It’s 12:01. I’m reminded of what day it is. “Happy Birthday,” I whisper.

  “Thanks,” he whispers back.

  “I didn’t get you a gift.”

  “Your forgiveness is enough for me.”

  Running my fingers through his hair, I say, “Make a wish.”

  His eyes close briefly and then he opens them again.

  “What’d you wish for?” I ask.

  He grins at me and his lips find mine.

  Chapter 23

  “Catch!” Dane shouts as he tosses me a tomato.

  I manage to grab it out of the air. “Hey! Be careful!”

  “Catch!” he yells again and tosses me another.

  I catch that one too and look at him with his head stuck behind the refrigerator door. “Stop throwing things at me!” I laugh.

  “Catch!” It’s a head of lettuce this time.

  “Oh geez!” I yelp, as I try to catch it without dropping the two tomatoes. I fail. I catch the lettuce all right, but one tomato splatters against the tile floor while the other simply bounces.

  “Catch!” he warns me again.

  “No! Stop!” I laugh. “I’ve already ruined the tomatoes!”

  He pokes his head around the door and looks at the floor. “Well, that’s a mess,” he snickers.

  “No thanks to you!”

  I move to grab some paper towels. We’re supposed to be prepping the sandwiches for a small golf outing the next day, but it’s taking longer than necessary. Everyone who works at Bay Woods has already gone home, with the exception of Kris.

  “Dude, we have to get this done,” I complain as I bend down to wipe up the tomato slime. “I would like to go home sometime this century.”

  “Awww,” he pretends to be offended. He kicks the refrigerator door shut because his hands are full with a large turkey breast, two more tomatoes, and a jar of mayonnaise. “You’re that anxious to get away from me?”

  “Not you, this place,” I groan.

  Over the last week, it seems like Kris has been working us extra hard by adding new responsibilities to our current ones, like this sandwich building fiasco.

  Dane sets his items down and places the turkey on a huge, metal slicer. He turns it on and starts cutting away. “I’ll be sure to go extra fast then, especially while using this,” he nods toward the slicer. “Who needs five fingers anyway?”

  “Stop it,” I chastise him like a mother scolding a child, even though I know he’s joking. “Be careful. I don’t know that much first aid.”

  He winks at me.

  I set to work slicing up the remaining tomatoes and the lettuce. When that’s finished, I get the bread out and start assembling the sandwiches as Dane places handfuls of sliced turkey on the cutting board. We work as a two person assembly line. When the sandwiches are complete, and we’re wrapping the last one, Kris appears out of nowhere.

  “Hey guys.” She looks weary.

  “What’s up?” Dane asks.

  “This outing for tomorrow is driving me crazy!” She slams her clipboard on the counter.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “I just got off the phone with them. They keep changing things. Now they want to add some fruit to the lunches and a dessert.”

  “No problem,” Dane says. “We were just about to start packing the boxes. Where’s the fruit?”

  “At the store,” Kris sighs. “I didn’t add any fruit to the delivery this week. And I need to come up with a cheap dessert.”

  “Cookies,” I say. “Cookies are easy.”

  “Right!” Kris’ face lights up like I just solved all of her troubles.

  “So what do you want us to do?” Dane asks.

  “Could you go to the store for me? I still have to reconcile today’s drawer,” she frowns. “I’ll give you some petty cash. Get two bags of apples and two bags of oranges and the cookies. Enough for two per person.”

  “Sure thing,” Dane says.

  Kris disappears to get the cash while we stack the completed sandwiches in the fridge. When she reappears, she beams at us. “Thank you so much for doing this! Here,” she hands me the money. “I included an extra $20. Get yourselves something to eat, on me, since it’s so late.”

  “Thanks,” I shrug. I’d rather just go home.

  Dane grabs his keys. “Ready?” he asks.

  “As ever,” I reply, following him outside. At least I don’t have to drive.

  Dane leads me to a Chevy Camaro. A brand new, charcoal gray, leather interior, hot-rod Chevy Camaro. “When did you get this?” I ask in awe.

  “I’ve had it,” he responds like it’s no big deal.

  “Shows how much I pay attention,” I murmur.

  “Why?” he raises an eyebrow. “You like?”

  “It’s...it’s just…better than my beat up car.”

  Dane flashes me a devious smile like he knows I’m lying. I am lying. This car is freaking awesome and I don’t even like cars.

  When we make it to the grocery store, I grab a cart and we head to the produce section. “Why don’t you go over to the cookie aisle?” I suggest. “Decide what to get. I’ll grab the apples and oranges and meet you there.”

  Dane nods and walks off in the opposite direction.

  I pick up the first two bags of each fruit I see, checking to make sure they’re not moldy or gross. I wouldn’t want to have to come back here tonight. Once I’m satisfied that the fruit is okay, I make my way to find Dane.

  I turn down the first aisle – Baked Goods. I find lots of bread, but no desserts, and no Dane. I set my sights on the end of the aisle, intent on making this a fast trip.

  “Emma?”

  Hearing my name catches me off guard. I glance behind me and stop dead in my tracks. Standing there, staring at me, is Mrs. Davis.

  “H–hi, Mrs. Davis,” I say slowly.

  “Catching up on some shopping?” she asks, tilting her head to look at my cart.

  “Just picking up a few things for work,” I mumble. I start to sweat. I haven’t seen her since the night she and James’ dad came over after the funeral. Even then, I didn’t really see her; I just eavesdropped on the conversation. I have no idea what to say to her. My heart flutters nervously.

  “Oh. Where are you working?” she asks.

  “At Bay Woods, the golf course.” As if there is another.

  She takes a minute to assess me from head to toe. I feel as if I’m undergoing some sort of physical inspection. I stare at her in confusion as she scrutinizes me. She looks tired; haggard even. Her normally perfect, salon-styled, sandy blonde hair is unkempt; like she fell asleep and didn’t bother to straighten her hair before she left the house. Her clothes even appear wrinkled, and I notice her nails are not manicured. Mrs. Davis always has her nails done; she’s had a standing appointment for as long as I’ve known her.

  “How–how’ve you been?” I timidly ask, afraid I’ll be burnt by my words. This is probably dangerous territory, but I don’t want to add being rude to the top of my list of faults.

  “Well. Thank you,” she responds curtly as though she’s rehearsed the line a thousand times.

  Awkward silence. Should I just say goodbye and walk away? Or would now be an appropriate time to apologize for my behavior at the funeral? My heart pounds.

  “It appe
ars that you are doing well also,” she says, breaking the silence. I can’t help but notice the disdain in her voice.

  Curious, I ask, “How so?”

  Her blue eyes seem to darken to gray and she narrows them toward me. “I had a visit from your new boyfriend the other day.”

  My eyes widen in shocked surprise. “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, I believe it was last Friday.” Her expression sours. “A mutual friend of James and yours? He stopped by the house to give us his late condolences. He made sure to tell us all about how the two of you have been helping each other through such a tough time.”

  What is she talking about? That’s impossible! I shake my head. “I’m sorry but there has to be some confusion…”

  “Emma!” I hear Dane call my name from behind me. I turn to see him striding toward us. “What’s taking you so long? I’m two aisles over and I need the cart…” He stops talking as he reaches me, realizing he’s interrupted a conversation. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He holds a hand out to Mrs. Davis and smiles. “Dane Walker.”

  Mrs. Davis eyes Dane’s hand with interest, but doesn’t take it. “Carol Davis,” she responds coolly. She turns to me. “This isn’t the same gentleman who came by our house the other day,” she says. “Exactly how many boyfriends do you have dear?” She spits out the word “dear” like it’s poisonous.

  “Mrs. Davis, Dane’s not…I don’t have…”

  Dane senses the tension and cuts me off. “We work together. We’re not dating.”

  James’ mother chooses to ignore Dane’s words and my weak protests. “That’s what happened, isn’t it?” she accuses me, her tone harsh and judgmental.

  “I’m sorry,” I shake my head again. “What are you talking about?”

  “James found out, didn’t he?” she sneers.

  “Found out about what? Please Mrs. Davis; you’re not making sense…”

  “About all of your men!” she hisses, raising her voice enough so the other shoppers in the aisle turn toward her, confused. “He found out about you! You broke his heart! I always knew you were to blame!” She’s shouting now. “You broke my poor son’s heart and now he’s dead because of it!”

  The blood drains from my face. I clutch the handle of the cart as tight as I can to prevent myself from collapsing. Dane moves to my side immediately. I can’t speak to defend myself. I take a quick glance around. Of the few people in the aisle, some are staring at me with their mouths hanging open. I imagine others are pretending we don’t exist.