Last Chance (Lake Placid Series Book 6)

by Natalie Ann

“Where would you suggest I do it?” he asked, calmly, continuing on.

  She was banging things around the kitchen of his house. The kitchen with old countertops that she couldn’t get clean enough, even if she used a power sander. The cabinets that creaked when she opened them, the oven that only warmed up to four hundred degrees and then stopped, if it didn’t shut off completely.

  “Not in here while I’m trying to cook.”

  “I can let them grow,” he said, grinning at her.

  She didn’t want him to be funny right now. She was sick of him always being so calm. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Yep, it is. You didn’t like the scratches they left last night on your hips. If I remember correctly, you’re the one who told me to do this,” he said, leaning his hip against the wall, looking at his nails that really weren’t long at all, but perfectly fitted to his large hands. She was being petty last night, she knew. “And now you’re getting pissy because I listened to what you said.”

  “You never listen any other time, why now?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her and she saw his jaw tighten. “Riley, I understand you’re on edge. We all are. We just have to live our lives and put this aside. You aren’t doing anyone any favors, acting like this.”

  “Like what?” she asked, picking up a jar of roasted red peppers.

  He moved closer to her, standing a foot away. “A little bit like a brat.”

  She bared her teeth at him. She knew he was doing it on purpose and she was falling for it. She twisted the jar with more force than needed and when it opened, the juice flew all over his shirt and pants. There was nothing else to do but to burst out laughing.

  He frowned, but other than that, didn’t have much of a reaction, just grabbed some paper towels and started to wipe it off.

  “You’re going to stink. You need to change,” she told him.

  “And now you’re my mother?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  Again, not much of a reaction. “That’s what you get for getting in my personal space.”

  He threw the paper towel down and backed her against the counter so fast she didn’t have time to react at all. “You’re like water, Riley. Calm and soothing, churning and crashing, sucking me in and throwing me out. This beautiful ocean when you want to be, this treacherous beast when you don’t.”

  “I’m a beast,” she said. She shouldn’t have said that. Not when his eyes were shooting flames, his jaw clenched, and his hands caging her in. Should she be getting turned on? Probably not, but there it was.

  He took a deep breath. “We need to take a step back.”

  “Then do it,” she said, holding his stare. He turned and took a few steps away from her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream at him and when he walked out of the room, she did. “Why can’t you feel what I do? Why can’t you let me know you’re angry, too? Why can’t you tell me you’re pissed off we aren’t getting anywhere? Why do I have to be the one who looks like a fool over this?”

  He walked back in and stood in the doorway. “I feel all those things you do, Riley, but I can’t let them out. I can’t do my job if I do. I can’t help you if I do.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “You’re having trouble reining it in. If I let go, if I let myself feel what you’re feeling, act the way you are, then it’d be worse for you. We can’t both be that way. We can’t feed off each other. Why can’t I be the calm hand that soothes you? Why can’t I be the reasonable voice that talks you down when you get like this? Why can’t you stop fighting everything so much until you just burst open and have a moment like this?”

  ***

  Riley stood there staring at him as he voiced those words. There was no anger in them, but probably more heat than she was used to seeing.

  He was just as frustrated as her over the past month. He wanted answers, too. But he wasn’t going to get them snapping at people.

  If there was one thing he’d learned about Riley since they’d been living together, it was that she didn’t want anyone to see her being weak.

  Not once.

  Not at all.

  To hide her tears. To hide what was weakness in her eyes, she snapped.

  He was simmering and bubbling under the surface, but keeping a lid on it, just waiting for her to boil over. It seemed now was the time. The key was for them both to not get burned.

  “Come here,” he said, walking toward her. But she didn’t make a move forward.

  She was fighting tears, he saw it in her eyes and he wasn’t going to let her continue. So he took those few steps, pulled the jar of peppers out of her hand and put it on the counter, and yanked her into his arms.

  Then he held her and whispered in her ear, “Just cry. No one needs to know. No one needs to see it. You’ll feel better if you do.”

  And she did and he held her.

  Not that he had a choice in the matter. If his own eyes welled up with excess moisture, she couldn’t see it. She didn’t need to.

  They stood there in his old beat-up kitchen, the one she had been cooking in for weeks without complaint, even though he knew she hated every bit of it. She cried and cried, until it seemed like there might not be a tear left in her body. Then he picked her up and carried her to the living room and cradled her on his lap.

  “You can’t let this stop you from living right now. You can’t let this control your happiness in life. Be aware it’s there. Be aware we’re working on it. But live. Enjoy. Be yourself.”

  “I’m trying,” she said, wiping her nose and eyes on his shirt. He wanted to make a comment about that being disgusting, but was smart enough to keep his lips sealed.

  “I know you are. You need to try harder. You need to break a little now and again. These little cracks can be fixed easier than a whole wall crumbling. Don’t let the wall crumble again.”

  “You sound like a psychiatrist or something.”

  “Yeah, well I’ll bill your insurance for the session later.”

  She giggled a little and it was what he’d been hoping for.

  “Is there something else going on?”

  “Not really,” she said.

  “Which means there is.” Again he could see she was afraid of letting go completely.

  There was some silence and she finally blurted out, “I’m going to be thirty years old tomorrow.”

  It’d really be reckless to laugh at that comment. “It’s just a number.”

  “But it’s not where I thought I’d be in my life. I’m not even close. And not only that, I feel like I can’t even celebrate it because I’m worried about this other mess.”

  “It sounds to me like you don’t want to celebrate anyway.”

  “I do. I always do. I always go out to dinner and have a glass of wine. I toast myself and I make plans and goals for the next year.”

  Not surprising. “So what is so bad about this birthday, then? Other than the number, which I repeat is just a number.”

  “I didn’t reach any of my goals or plans this year. Nothing. I always reach something,” she said, sobbing on his chest.

  Little Miss Overachiever. “What were your goals for this year?”

  “I thought I’d be engaged. I thought I’d at least be living with someone.”

  “Jason?” he asked, trying not to snarl.

  “I didn’t know it was going to turn out like this a year ago. I didn’t know he’d be the person he ended up being. A year ago, none of the signs were there.”

  “Instead of looking at what didn’t happen and being upset over it, why not look at what did and be happy.”

  “What’s that?”

  Her hand was rubbing his thigh now, but he wasn’t sure she was even aware. He was always hyper-aware of every movement she made, especially when she was touching him. “You found out what a jackass he was.”

  “True.”

  “That’s a good thing,” he pointed out. “You’ve got your own practice.”

  “Yeah, that is pretty awesome. My
goal was thirty-two for that.”

  He laughed. “Then you reached it early.” He shouldn’t be surprised she had ages for different stages in her life all planned out.

  “Good point.”

  “And you are living with someone,” he said.

  “But it’s not by choice,” she argued.

  “If it was? Would you say yes? If I asked you to stay when this was over?”

  He didn’t know why he was asking that right now, but he’d known for the past few weeks that he had no intention of letting them live apart again. He just figured they’d have time to work on that later.

  “Are you asking me to move in here permanently?” She pushed back and looked at his face, her eyes searching his.

  “I’ll redo the kitchen for you,” he said, smiling. He thought he already asked her and she didn’t answer, so he wasn’t asking again.

  “Any way I want it?”

  “Sure.”

  “Then let’s start looking at designs.”

  He should have known she wouldn’t come right out and say yes. That would be too simple and easy, and if Riley Hamilton was anything, it wasn’t simple or easy. But her answer was good enough.

  Crack and Bleed

  The next night, they were at the restaurant of Riley’s choice having her birthday dinner. Because that was what she wanted and that was what he was going to give her. He’d give her anything, but he would never tell her that. No use being too accommodating.

  “Thanks, Trevor.”

  “My pleasure,” he said.

  It was always pleasurable to see her all dressed up. The fitted short black dress looked designed for her body. So did the black heels. Her hair was pulled back in some twist that she’d spent an hour having done today. Her skin was glistening, a nice rosy glow. A few hours at the spa before getting her hair done seemed to have done wonders for her. He owed Kennedy big time for squeezing Riley in.

  “I feel like a whole new person today.”

  “It was meant for that. I wanted you to feel refreshed and pampered.”

  “That is exactly how I feel. And when we get home tonight, you’re going to get a gargantuan thank you.”

  “Gargantuan, huh?”

  “It was the biggest word I could think of,” she said, smiling at him, her hand reaching over and lying on top of his. The purple necklace he’d given her over a month ago winked back at him. She’d done nothing more than take it off for bed each night, then put it on the minute she was out of the shower each day.

  “It might end up being a present for me,” he said. When she put her mind to something, she always went all in. It could be one hell of a night for both of them.

  “It might be, but really it’s all about me tonight. Haven’t you figured that out yet? It’s my day,” she said, a sensual laugh escaping from her lips. Her eyes, a lustful stimulation to his body at the moment. Not that he needed one. He never did with her.

  “I’ve figured out a lot about you in the past several months.”

  “Good or bad?” she said, her eyes fluttering at him. He’d never seen this side of her before, and found he was enchanted. Sucked in more than he thought he’d be.

  “Both.”

  “You’re honest.”

  “Always,” he said.

  “So tell me the good. I know the bad.”

  “What’s the bad?” he asked first. Then he’d know what might be acceptable to slip if it ever happened.

  “You think you’re being so clever getting me to spell it out, but it won’t work.”

  It was worth a shot. “We all have bad things in our life. It’s not a weakness or a flaw, but rather something that molds us for more goodness. Greatness, even.”

  “I’ve got greatness?” she asked, all excited. “Do tell.”

  He laughed. He’d been missing this the past month without even realizing it. “Yesterday,” he said. “You find crying a weakness. You find it a flaw. But you let it out, and look at you today. Don’t you feel better?”

  Adorably, she pursed her lips. “You weren’t supposed to notice how horrible I looked yesterday.”

  “You asked for greatness. I’m seeing it now. But like I said, sometimes you need to hit the bottom to get to the peak.”

  “That’s because your sister worked me over this morning.”

  “No, Riley. It’s what has always been inside of you. What comes out when the going gets tough. People crack and bleed, then don’t get up. You not only get up, but you force your way through. You just needed a nudge yesterday.”

  “Speaking of greatness,” she said, looking at him. “I don’t think you’ve got a lot of flaws or weaknesses, but you sure the hell have great traits.”

  “Listen to us lavish each other with words of praise. It’s kind of nauseating.” He had plenty of flaws, but she never seemed to notice them.

  “It really is, isn’t it?” she said. “No more complimenting each other. We know how awesome we are.”

  He laughed and picked up his beer, held it up to her and said, “Happy thirtieth, Riley.”

  ***

  Today was probably the happiest she’d felt in over a year. Even last year, when she made her goals and plans, she didn’t know how much she really wanted them to come true.

  Her whole life, she’d felt she had to do that. Plan and set goals. That was how she’d stayed ahead in life. That was how she didn’t get left behind.

  So she made those goals and plans in her head, and kept them there. But this year, when things looked like they weren’t going to work the way she wanted, it didn’t even bother her. She’d actually forgotten what she’d wished for on her twenty-ninth birthday.

  Until the past week. When everything started to eat at her, tear her down. Then she remembered and she got ticked off. She’d always achieved at least one thing, and this year it was pretty much nothing.

  Sure, she was living with Trevor, but that didn’t really count. Not like she’d thought it would in her mind.

  And yeah, he was right, all those “failures” from the past year turned out to be positive in the end for her.

  Too bad it had to come in the form of a weirdo terrorizing her mental state. Someone that she was starting to wonder might just be playing with her more than anything else.

  Tonight was for her, though. She’d push it all out of her head. When Trevor told her the day he’d had planned for her, she had no choice but to give herself over to it.

  He was wiser than she ever gave him credit for. She’d wanted him to get mad and upset like her, but then realized he was right all along. By him being stronger, by him being contained within himself, he was able to bring her right there with him.

  She was realizing that it wasn’t such a bad thing to show she was upset. It wasn’t such a bad thing to let him see how she was feeling, what she was really thinking.

  That’s what she was going to do moving forward. She wasn’t going to keep anything bottled up again. She wasn’t going to keep anything from him ever.

  She was going to make her plans for next year, and they were going to include him.

  And she was going to tell him.

  “So I was looking at ideas for your kitchen this morning while I was being worked on at the spa.”

  “Do I want to know?” he asked.

  “You said I could,” she reminded him. “I was showing some of the ideas to Kennedy.”

  He froze in the process of bringing his beer to his lips. “What did she say?”

  “She said she’d love to help. That the house needed an overhaul.”

  “You told her you were redoing my kitchen?” he asked.

  “No, I told her you asked me to move in with you, officially. Not because of what was going on, but because it’s the next step for us.”

  He smiled at her, one that reached his eyes and flowed over. The one where she knew if he wasn’t controlling himself so much, they’d get a little misty, too.

  “And? What did she say to that?”

  �
��She said it was about time.”

  He laughed. She followed suit.

  Then her phone rang. “Sorry. I know the ringtone. It’s the on-call service. It’s probably nothing major.”

  She answered and listened to the person on the other line explaining the situation while the caller was on hold; they didn’t want to hang up. “Sure, patch them through.”

  Riley waited a second, then the service said she was connecting them and hung up. “This is Dr. Hamilton. You knocked your two front teeth out?” There was only silence on the other line and a little bit of static. “Hello, can you hear me?” There was some rustling sounds, but nothing else. She put her hand over the phone and told Trevor, “Might be bad service on their end.”

  More silence and static. “I think we have a bad connection,” Riley said. “Maybe you should hang up and try calling back.”

  “Happy Birthday,” she heard suddenly.

  All that calm she’d felt earlier was gone. All those happy thoughts vanished. “Who is this?”

  She couldn’t tell much at all. The call was muffled, the voice unclear…but clear enough, and she knew. She knew in her heart this was it. This was what they’d been waiting for.

  “Happy Birthday,” she heard again, and then silence. The call went dead.

  Big Deal

  “Give me your phone right now,” Trevor said. “Tell me what happened, not that I couldn’t guess by your face.”

  “It was him. I know it was.”

  “What did he say?”

  Trevor had been sitting there watching her during the call. From the smile on her face, to the perplexity at having to say she couldn’t hear the person, to confusion, and then fear.

  “There was silence. I couldn’t really hear anything. Nothing more than someone moving around. Like they were muffling the phone. I couldn’t even make out the voice, either.”

  “So you don’t know what he said?” he asked again.

  “Happy Birthday. That’s all I heard. Happy Birthday. How did he know it was my birthday?”

  “We’re leaving,” he said, holding his hand up for the check. “Let me pay and we’re going right to the barracks. I’m calling Logan and we’re getting the number traced.”