Rug Burns (Reviving Haven Book 2)

by Cyr, Cory

  He set his glass on the stone edge of the lookout point as I began to walk back to my chair. I needed to be sitting for our next exchange of words.

  “Stop. Right. There.” His voice had an authoritative tone that I’d never heard before.

  I spun around abruptly just in time to see him fumbling in his pants pocket. He stared at me intensely as he produced a box.

  Fuck. No. My entire body began to shake and I had to place my glass down. I suddenly felt cold and flushed at the same time. Yes, every little girl dreams of this moment. Dreams. For me, it was a nightmare.

  I watched as if in slow motion while Keenan fell to one knee. I almost wanted to laugh because it felt like a reality show moment. And I glanced around to see if we weren’t indeed being filmed. I lifted my eyes to his, wondering if maybe he’d crouched on one knee due to injury. I mean, he wasn’t getting any younger, and doing some of his own stunts might have taken a toll on that gorgeous body. After all, it had been a while since he hit the gym. Then he popped open the lid of the box. I saw light so bright it was almost blinding.

  I sighed. The man had bought me a diamond the size of his cock. I pondered what that equaled in carat weight.

  I moved a little closer, as if I were hypnotized by the excessive size and beauty of the ring. I revered, in order, cocks, shoes, clothes, and jewelry. And because this man loved and knew me, he purchased a diamond parallel to the magnitude of his shaft. I was currently trying to relieve the pressure in my brain by amusing myself. I was sure he was uncomfortable as hell being on one knee for two minutes. After all, it was concrete. Maybe he’d have more compassion for me the next time I sucked his dick. “I want to marry you,” he said, his voice dripping with sincerity and tenderness.

  “Stop. Don’t say it. I so do not want to hear the M-word. What has gotten into you, Kee? Jesus.” I backed away from him and the glare of brightness reflected by the ring, thinking, Do not walk toward the light.

  He stood and dusted himself off. I heard the ring box snap closed. Loudly.

  “This isn’t what I want anymore. I want to have a life with you.”

  “What the hell, Kee? We do have a life. I’ve given you more. Five fucking years. I moved in with you, and now what? You want to ruin it all by us getting married? Are you insane?” I spit out, following it with a huge gulp of my expensive wine. “It’s a piece of paper. That’s all. It’s a contract that basically says you own me.”

  “I do own you,” he roared.

  I was taken aback. Keenan rarely raised his voice and never like this. He was livid.

  “Not all of me,” I mumbled.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the chair. “Let’s go. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  I drank the last of my wine, wishing I could snake the bottle and sneak it out. He had my hand gripped tightly as he led me to the car. The ride home was silent. His anger rolled off him in waves. I’d pushed him too far. But I couldn’t marry him. He’d known that. I had no idea what put the thought of marriage into his head.

  Fucking Latch.

  Fucking Haven.

  Did we really have to be a matched set of goddamn bookends? Now I wished I’d been privy to all those Skype sessions. My bestie had to know how this would end. She could have warned me. But then again, I was grasping at straws. Haven should have given me a heads-up. I trusted her.

  Keenan marched into the house ahead of me. I kicked off my heels and padded to the kitchen. I grabbed a bag of chips and poured myself a glass of wine, keeping the bottle nearby. For what tonight held, I needed more than just one glass.

  Keenan returned dressed in only his pants. In between crunching the chips and sipping my wine, I was licking my lips. Seeing him exposed made my body hum. Even a blowjob wasn’t going to get me out of this. I could tell he was on edge, and I might not be able to pull him back.

  He sat on the other sofa across from me. “I’m tired, Weezie. You exhaust me. I don’t—or rather, I won’t do this anymore.”

  I set my wineglass on the coffee table. “What’s changed? We have everything. Why do you need more?”

  His face softened as he surveyed me. “This,” he said, pointing to everything in the room. “It’s not enough. I have to believe there’s more than just this. I have put up with a lot, Weezie. I’m not sure you could find another man to be so tolerant. I’m sick of not knowing if we truly have a future. If what we are right now is all we’ll ever be. I don’t want to do it anymore, and the fact is if you don’t want to spend the rest of your life with me, I really don’t see the point in us continuing.”

  I gulped as a myriad of emotions hit me all at once. That anvil of impending doom had crashed into me, leaving me a quaking mess inside. “You’re leaving me?” I asked in a tiny voice.

  He shook his head. “I love you. You know that, but if you don’t know by now whether or not you want to commit, then explain to me how I’m supposed to live with that. Jesus, you have to give me something, some kind of hope. I want us be husband and wife. I want to grow old with you.”

  “Okay, just wait another five years and you’ll have your wish,” I quipped, attempting a little bit of humor. In five years, I would be fifty.

  Keenan came over and sat next to me. Close enough I could smell his cologne. Close enough I could sense his pain and heartache. I had hurt him. If I cared about him at all, I’d walk away. He’d find someone else and finally have the life he deserved. The kind of man he was, he merited a better woman. Someone who would love him and care for him. He wanted to marry me, in spite of our age difference, the fact we’d never have children, and the reality that, as a couple, we were dysfunctional. But the truth was he wasn’t. I was.

  He’d given me five years of pleasurable contentment. Yes, we had our issues, mainly mine, but he’d always been accommodating. I could just marry him. I mean, it was only a piece of paper. A document that clearly meant ownership. A contract that signified one hundred percent monogamy—forever.

  That binding document meant I would never be with another man ever again. No matter how sexually cavalier I was, I would never cheat. It was one of the many reasons I didn’t want to get married. I would never break that vow, even if I wanted to. And I would end up miserable, and eventually, that misery would trickle down to Keenan. I’d honored his wishes and stopped seeing other men when we began to live together. But I’d never been genuinely honest with myself about what I really wanted. I didn’t want to hurt him, and my worst fear was the publicity would make him a laughing stock.

  “I never said no. I need time to think about it,” I whispered. What? Why did I just say that? I was giving him hope. I was a despicable person.

  He bent forward as his forehead touched mine. “Oh, babe, I wish time would make a difference, but it’s been five years. I shouldn’t have asked you right now. I should have waited until after we got back.”

  It had slipped my mind we were going abroad to celebrate Latch’s thirtieth birthday. I was apprehensive, but I needed a sounding board. So Haven would get to hear my woes. I wasn’t even sure how to explain this to her. I knew she was team Keenan all the way. I was team Keenan too. The thought of never seeing him again or waking up next to him left me torn on the inside. What I felt for him might never be real love, but it was the closest thing I’d ever know. I wasn’t sure I could walk away from all of this. He was my primary person. The one I could always count on.

  “We’ll revisit this conversation after we return. Maybe Haven will give you advice. I’ve waited this long, so another two weeks I can do. I’m not asking you to wear the ring, but hold on to it while you consider everything. I am sorry I was duplicitous with you,” he said as his hand squeezed mine. “I love you, and I need that useless piece of paper. I need to define us, at least for myself. I want to call you wife. More than that, I need you to call me husband. Nothing will change. I promise. No matter what, I’ll know that you’ll always be taken care of. I want to provide you with something beyond monetary. I want to be your em
otional shelter and refuge.”

  For the first time since Haven told me she was pregnant, actual tears stung my eyes. I’d managed for years to subdue any kind of crying because I’d always associated the act with weakness. I squeezed them back. He’d caught me off guard with his proposal and his words. Along with the anguish, I was feeling emotionally vulnerable. I was also suffocating. Even the thought of marriage was stifling. But now I’d been given an ultimatum. I had fourteen days to choose ownership or a solitary life.

  16

  Present

  What the hell had I been thinking? I look over just as the passenger next to me, this gray-haired old lady, winks at me. Jesus, I’m astonished she hasn’t had a coronary from all the explicit details and F bombs. “I so apologize for baring my soul to you. I’m very embarrassed. Get a few drinks into me and my mouth just has a mind of its own.”

  The woman begins to cackle as she pats my arm. “Oh my, but it has been entertaining. I thought this flight would be boring as hell until I recognized you.”

  This woman knows who I am. Fuck me. All I need now is for her to give my story to some reporter. I unloaded my life history to a complete stranger. Details I’ve never told anyone. My personal, private thoughts. Fuck my life. Too many vodka martinis have loosened my lips. I’d planned to sleep through this extended flight, hoping first class would be deserted this time of year. Evidently, I needed someone to talk to, and this person filled my needs.

  “Ruby Stalls,” she announces as she holds out her hand. “I already know who you are, dear. Weezie Miller.”

  I blush, which is something I rarely do. Embarrassment isn’t one of my virtues, but the words I used and the sexual descriptions… And ohmigod, I told her about Keenan’s cock. What the hell? I need to quit getting intoxicated. Maybe lock myself in the bathroom. Since, obviously, when I drink, I have no filter.

  “I am so sorry, Ruby. What you must think. To be honest, I don’t display this kind of behavior to anyone, let alone someone I don’t even know. No excuse except too much booze and apparently verbal diarrhea.”

  “You’re in pain. If talking about it helped, then I’m glad. You’ve led a rather compelling life for someone so young.”

  I haven’t been referred to as young in a long time. Compared to her, I suppose I am. I hope I look as pulled together as she does at her advanced age. With the exception of the gray hair, she has a youthful appearance and her mind seems sharp.

  “When I recognized you, I couldn’t believe it. Keenan Stone’s girlfriend,” she whispers, turning her mouth close to my ear. “How lucky you are. I was with my Franklin for over fifty years, but I would have filed for divorce with the promise of one night with your man.” She chuckles.

  “Your husband?” I question.

  “Franklin passed away almost two years ago. God rest his soul. He was a good man. We have five children, seven grandchildren, and three great-grandchildren. We had a wonderful life. But when you get to be my age and you’re suddenly single, it gets lonely. By the way, I’m eighty years young.”

  I internally groan as she continues, wondering if I’ve traumatized her with my tales of perversion. I not only told her about me, but Keenan, and threw Latch and Haven under the bus with my sordid stories. Ugh! Kill me now.

  “My children have been flying me everywhere. I had a bucket list of places. France, Greece, Africa, and Scotland. They wanted me to get out of the house and live life again, and they figured thousands of miles away would be good for me,” she laughs.

  I have to admit she’s down to earth for a senior citizen. She doesn’t appear shocked by the revelations I spouted off during the last nine hours.

  “Once again, I am appalled that I unloaded all my shi—stuff on you. You must think I’m a very shallow and selfish person. I left him in Scotland you know,” I murmur as I wave the attendant over for another drink. I’m already buzzed, so one more drink isn’t going to make any difference. I’ve already blabbed every intimate detail about my life to a stranger. I’m going to have one hell of a hangover, but I don’t care.

  Ruby chooses to have another also. “You know what they say, Weezie—liquid courage.” She smiles as she takes a sip. “That’s not your real name, is it? What does that dreamy man of yours call you?”

  He is most likely calling me many things currently. Bitch. Whore. Deceitful, lying cunt. I wince. “I’ve always gone by that name. My parents named me after some famous author my mom liked. Horrible name, so I’ve been calling myself Weezie since I was a teenager. I guess it stuck.”

  I have no fucking clue why I’m telling her this. I don’t think I even shared that fact with Keenan.

  “So, Weezie, what are you going to do about your man? You certainly can’t let him sit on the fence with his prick dangling in the wind.”

  I choke on my drink. God, this is me at eighty. I’m getting a sneak peek at my future.

  “I may be old, dear, but I’m not dead—at least not yet. You have a decision to make. Are you open to my opinion? Because I have one.”

  I nod as I take another sip. We will be landing in less than an hour. The truth is I needed a sounding board, and I’ve found one in Ruby. Maybe she has insight.

  “I don’t think human beings, us, were meant to be singular creatures. I think the plan was for us to love and be loved. Franklin and I had good times as well as bad in over fifty years of marriage, but no matter what, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. We all need a reason to be, and sometimes that is another person. I think Keenan is yours. He’s your purpose.

  “My dear, you have put that man through the ringer. Personally, I don’t know if staying with you the last five years makes him a hero or a putz. Do you honestly believe your mother and father would want you to be alone your entire life? I seriously doubt any parents would want the path you chose, but he stayed with you anyway. And you can deny, deny, and deny, but you love him. I feel it in my bones. You can try to ignore it, but real undying love will settle right below the skin and eventually find its way back into your heart. If you walk away, you’ll always feel emptiness… an unfinished part of life. You can try to fill that space with men and puff chores, but it will never be enough. You will always remember the way it was with Keenan.”

  Okay, I seriously cringe. There is definitely something inappropriate about a great-grandmother using the term puff chore. The only thing worse would have been the word blowjob coming from her mouth. I am so burning in hell for corrupting a senior citizen.

  “It doesn’t matter. He hates me. I fucking left him. I didn’t even say anything. I just ran. I’m not a good person, Ruby. I’ve never had the guts or the inclination to admit it, but I am horrible. Keenan should take me leaving as a sign and move on. I’m not good enough for him.”

  She turns as she reaches in for a hug. The warmth that radiates from her reminds me of my mom. I haven’t thought about her in many years because she would be disappointed in the choices I’ve made and who I’ve become.

  “After listening to you, frankly, I’m not sure if there’s anything you could do to stifle that man’s intentions. He’s too in love with you. I’ll bet he’ll forgive you if you declare your love for him. I need you to be honest. Do you love him?”

  It has been weighing me down forever. Crushing and squeezing my heart. Making it hard to breathe. Giving rise to wild emotions. Thinking a man is only a sexual necessity. I don’t need one to complete my life. Telling myself I’m not good enough. Not worthy. Making myself believe I’d be better off without him.

  But I’m a liar. I’ve spent five years refusing to acknowledge what I already knew. I have feelings for him. I have no idea when I realized it, but the constant denials have tormented me each day. I've wanted desperately to believe I am deserving of him. I can give him what he wants and be the woman he needs. Regardless of what happens, time itself will never erase his memory from my soul.

  “I don’t think there’s enough room in my heart for how much I love him.”

  I sig
h. I silently admitted it to Haven, but not to myself, not really. Yet now I chose to confess my true feelings to someone I’ve just met. The constant anvil of fear has lifted from my chest. I’ve been having a battle between me and myself for so long. Unfortunately, it’s probably too late. I humiliated him in front of his friends and abandoned him. I didn’t even have the common courtesy to say good-bye. I’m an insensitive person.

  I hear a quiet snort from Ruby as she finishes her drink. “I never doubted you for a moment. So you are going to marry him. Please say I can be the first to know.”

  I take a deep breath. “Telling him I love him is one thing. Marrying him, oh, I don’t know. I don’t get the significance of that piece of paper.”

  “It may be insignificant to you, but he deems it important. My dear, you will be withdrawing him from the female market. You will have procured the sexiest man alive as your husband. You should have a damn parade.”

  A thinly veiled smile curves my lips as I let her words sink in. “Well, first, I have to get him to hear me out. I promised him an answer, and I’m pretty sure he views ditching him as me saying no.”

  “Oh, I have great faith in Mr. Stone. He’s put up with too much of your shenanigans to give up so easy,” she says as she hiccups. “I know this is a lot to ask, but can you maybe let me know how it works out?”

  “I can do that. But I’m hoping you’ll keep my stories and our conversation strictly confidential. I could seriously kick my own ass for being so open with you, and the tabloids would like nothing better than to pen a story about Keenan’s appendage.”

  Ruby giggles. “I meant to ask if you were telling me a cock-and-bull story, so to speak, or if it’s really yea big.” She spreads out her hands wide.

  My memory flashes back to a time when I asked Haven about how big Keenan’s cock was after they’d first met at a photo shoot. This elderly woman is Haven and me in the future. We would still be having chats about our men’s junk at eighty.