One Last Dance

by Nancy Stopper

  HIS CELL PHONE sat silently on the coffee table in front of the couch. No calls, no texts, nothing. Not since Thursday when he’d lashed out and Brittany had run away. Three long days.

  He’d slumped to the couch in shock when she stormed out of the cabin, his mind spinning.

  He couldn’t blame her, though. He’d said some awful things to her, but he didn’t mean any of them. She had to know that. He was just so upset about Rachel and took his anger out on the easiest target—Brittany. After what she’d told him, he should have pulled her into his arms and reassured her that everything would be okay. But had he done that? No. He’d yelled at her and accused her of using him for sex. What had he been thinking?

  After he pulled his head out of his ass, he’d burst out of the cabin, running down the path after her. He didn’t find her, though. She must have raced straight back to the clearing. He’d broken the speed limit on the way back to town, but he was too late. He found his house empty, her suitcase missing from where it had taken up residence the day she’d moved it in. That was what it had felt like—that she had moved in. And he’d wanted her there. Nowhere else.

  She’d left. Back to New York, where he’d told her to go but where he didn’t want her to be. His phone calls had gone unanswered, his texts ignored. This was all his fault. He was an idiot… for letting her go... for not going after her.

  He sat up from the couch where he’d slept for the past three nights. He couldn’t stand to sleep in his bed, the sheets filled with her scent and his mind filled with memories of making love with her. He headed to the kitchen to make some much-needed coffee when his phone rang.

  He rushed back to the living room, disappointment washing over him when Lucas’s picture flashed on the screen. He could send it to voicemail like all the other calls from his family the past couple of days. And Sawyer’s calls, too. He hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone but Brittany. But if he didn’t answer, Lucas would keep calling.

  As Joey stared at the phone, the ringing stopped. But then he had a thought… what if Lucas had news of Rachel? Maybe she’d left the bastard. Maybe he’d… The phone rang again, and Joey snatched it off the table, slamming his finger on the screen.

  “What?”

  “Whoa, man.” Joey could almost see Lucas raising his hands in surrender through the phone.

  “Sorry, Lucas. Got a lot on my mind.”

  “I know. But you haven’t answered your phone or texts in three days. Are you coming to dinner today? We need to talk to Mom and Dad. They need to know what’s going on with Rachel.”

  Joey swore under his breath. He’d lost track of days since Brittany left. He’d told Carla he wasn’t coming in to J.J.’s.

  He’d skipped Sunday dinner last week. Had it only been a week since he’d met Brittany? As much as he wanted to stay on the couch and wallow, he shouldn’t miss again. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “Good, okay. I’ll see you there.”

  A half an hour later, he headed out the door to his truck. It sat alone, lonely, in the driveway. The spot where she’d parked her BMW was empty. Only a few faded marks remained. He’d liked seeing her car beside his truck. As if it belonged.

  He remembered her face when she’d seen Sawyer’s car instead of his truck before their night in Philly. She’d lit up, her smile intoxicating.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen in love with her. Was it that moment? Was it another? She’d crept beneath his skin so gradually that he couldn’t tell. That night in Philly felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened since then. His desire to prove to Brittany she could find what she wanted in Oak Grove had failed miserably. All he’d done was shove her away.

  His house felt empty without her in it. She’d only been there for a few days, but she’d worked her way into every part of his life. She couldn’t put her shoes away if her life depended on it. How many pairs of shoes did one woman need, anyway? I mean, really. She came into town for a long weekend and brought a dozen pair of shoes. Her clothes had been strewn across every flat surface in his room. Granted, he’d helped her throw some of those clothes in their hurried attempts to get each other naked and had enjoyed every moment of it.

  He didn’t like his house without her in it.

  What could he do about it? He lived here and she lived in New York.

  Right now, they had bigger problems to deal with. Rachel. He did not look forward to this conversation with his parents.

  He pulled up to the curb of his parents’ house, his childhood home greeting him as always with a manicured lawn and well-tended flower beds. His mother weeded them daily, and the bright pinks and purples cheerily greeted everyone who came to the door. He wasn’t cheery today, though. He was here because he knew he should be, but he’d rather be wallowing in his own misery. Alone.

  He studied his house through new eyes. Brittany’s eyes. She’d said that people held secrets behind closed doors. What about his neighbors? Who was hiding secrets behind the well-groomed lawns? What about his own parents? Did they know information about Rachel that they’d kept from the rest of the family? Something that had driven her away from them and into the arms of that bastard?

  Shoving his keys into his pocket, he headed down the driveway, laughter and good-natured ribbing reaching his ears as he approached the back of the house. The sounds of a bouncing basketball and squeaking sneakers on the pavement filled the air. He rounded the corner as Lucas dribbled around their father, faking one way before swiveling into a perfect jump shot. Joey didn’t know many fathers who still mixed it up with their kids like theirs did.

  And then there were fathers like Brittany’s. Ones who didn’t take care of their families. Anger built in his gut for her. No one should have to grow up that way. Brittany had not only survived, she’d thrived, despite her childhood.

  Joey’s father had always been their confidant and their friend, as well as their parent, and Joey could use his counsel right about now.

  “Hey, Joey,” Pop said as he swiped his forearm over his face. “We were just wrapping up. You wanna shoot a few?”

  “Naw, Pop. You guys finish up.”

  His father turned to Lucas. “What is it, nine to eight?”

  “Sounds about right. Get ready to have your ass handed to you, Dad.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Pop caught Lucas off guard, dribbling to the basket and sinking an easy shot. Joey watched the back-and-forth for several minutes. How many times had he played out here with his brothers, and even Rachel? Their own happy family, but not quite. Because something had driven Rachel away—straight into Shane’s arms.

  His mother’s voice rang out through the back yard.

  “It’s time for dinner, boys. Get cleaned up and get in here before it gets cold.” She stood at the back door of the house, her ever-present apron proclaiming Practically perfect in every way.

  Was it really? Brittany had him questioning everything about his life up to this point. Secrets dwelled in every small town, she’d said. Did their family have secrets? They couldn’t. He’d had a good childhood. Great parents who listened to them, counseled them, allowed them to make mistakes but caught them when they fell. Nothing like Brittany’s parents.

  “Hey, Ma.” Joey rushed to her side, placing a quick kiss on her cheek before heading in the house. The back door entered straight into the kitchen, the heart of their home and the heart of their family. They’d talked about sports and girls and life over the well-worn wood of the long kitchen table, and he’d grown up knowing no matter what, his safe haven always waited for him. What was it like to not have that?

  His heart ached for Brittany. Instead of supporting her, he’d driven her away. What had he been thinking? He placed his hand on his chest as realization flooded through him. He’d let the woman he loved run away. No, correct that… he’d driven her away.

  He eyed the back door. If he left now, he could be in New York by nightfall. His parents would understand. He could track Brittany down. Tell her he loved her
. That he was sorry. That he wanted her to come back home. Home.

  That was the problem. Oak Grove wasn’t home to her. What could he do about that? Nothing. She’d spent a good part of her life living somewhere she didn’t want to be. He couldn’t ask that of her now. But what could he do?

  First things first. Deal with the Rachel situation, refuel with some of Ma’s great cooking, and then solve the problem of his love life.

  His mother returned to her spot in front of the oven and stirred sauce in the pan. He leaned over her shoulder to peek, the scent of basil and oregano mingling with fresh tomatoes. Spaghetti and meatballs. His mouth watered and his stomach growled. That wasn’t uncommon. He was always hungry. But Ma’s cooking was something else and she’d made his favorite. Had she known he needed comfort food?

  He dipped his finger to swipe a taste, and Ma lifted her wooden spoon and directed it toward his hand.

  He stepped back, his hands raised.

  “Some things never change.” Ma laughed and pushed him away.

  “That’s a good thing.” Joey kissed her cheek.

  “Sometimes,” his mother murmured. He stopped short. What did that mean? He was looking at every situation through a new lens now after learning about Brittany’s childhood.

  Before he could ask his mother what she meant, the back door swung open again, and Lucas and their father stepped into the kitchen.

  “Where’re Sarah and Lily?” Joey asked.

  “They’ll be here in a few. I wanted to talk to Mom and Dad without little ears listening.”

  His mother turned to look at Joey and then Lucas before her eyes met their father’s.

  “Let’s sit down.” Pop placed his hand on their mother’s back and steered her to the table. His parents just fit together. Pop always took care of Ma and she supported him. The kind of relationship he’d thought he wanted with Shelby… and the kind he knew he could have with Brittany. Once he groveled a little. Or a lot. The operative word being could. She had to give him another chance first.

  They’d had many serious conversations at this table, but none this important. Each of them took their regular seats, the two empty ones a stark beacon to the changes in their family as they’d grown into adulthood. Too bad Michael couldn’t be here today to be part of this conversation.

  Their father looked between Joey and Lucas. “What’s up?”

  Joey looked to Lucas. He was the oldest. He should explain what was going on. Joey was too upset by the entire situation to describe it rationally. Besides, he had Brittany to worry about, too.

  “It’s about Rachel,” Lucas said.

  Their father sat up straighter, and their mother lowered her eyes, focusing on her clasped hands on the table. Did they know information that he and Lucas didn’t? Could there be a grain of truth to Brittany’s theory of secrets in his family?

  “It’s getting worse,” Joey added. “She dropped out of school. She’s skipping shifts at J.J.’s. She came in the other day with a black eye. She’d tried to hide it with makeup, but we could all see it.”

  “We went over there the other day.” Lucas’s voice was strong. He was definitely more composed than Joey right now. Joey was too close to the situation, too close to Rachel, to see it objectively.

  “You went to Shane’s trailer?” Pop asked. “She said she didn’t want us there.”

  “Sawyer went with us. She’d called into the bar the night before and we were worried.” Joey drew in a deep breath. “We had good reason to be.”

  Pop’s brows knitted and his mouth flattened. “What do you mean?”

  Joey didn’t have kids, but he couldn’t imagine what hearing these words about his daughter did to a father. Except Brittany’s dad. What kind of father would lay a hand on his child?

  “She had a sprained wrist.”

  His mother’s eyes widened and her hands shook, her knuckles growing white where she pressed them onto the table. “Did she say what happened?”

  “She gave us a list of excuses. We don’t believe her. Shane controls everything about her. He was awful while we were there. It was all I could do to not wipe his sadistic grin off his face with my fist.” Joey’s hands clenched just thinking about the sick look in his eye.

  “Oh, honey, you don’t think it’s as bad as all that, do you?”

  Lucas stretched out his arm and covered Ma’s hands with his. “It is.”

  “She’s being abused, Ma,” Joey added.

  His mother’s head snapped up, her eyes locking on their father’s. A silent conversation passed between them. What was going on with his parents? His mother’s eyes held a look of worry, but his father’s radiated another emotion entirely. Anger… and something else.

  He studied his parents. “What do you know? Do you know something important here? If you do, you need to tell us.”

  “No, Joseph. Nothing more than you do about what’s going on with Rachel. How did things get this bad?” Pop’s brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. “What do you think we should do about it? Did Sawyer have any ideas? I mean, he’s a deputy sheriff. He should be able to do something about this, right?”

  “Brittany says we can’t do anything until Rachel’s ready to be helped. Rachel won’t press charges. She won’t even admit he’s hurting her.”

  “Brittany’s the girl we met at the barbeque?” his mother asked.

  Thankfully, Lucas answered for him. Joey couldn’t bear to discuss it right now. “Joey’s been seeing her.”

  That was good enough for now. His parents didn’t need the details about his relationship until he fixed what he had screwed up. Until he confirmed that he actually had a relationship to discuss. “Brittany said until Rachel is ready to leave Shane, anything we do to try and force them apart will just drive them closer together.”

  “I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit,” Ma said. “This is all wrong.”

  “None of us like it, Ma. But Lucas and I will keep a close eye on her.”

  “We thought you should know what’s going on,” Lucas added.

  “I guess I need to trust you boys about this. I just don’t have to like it. Maybe I’ll go in and talk to Sawyer tomorrow,” Pop said.

  His mother swiped her fingers under her eyes before standing up. “I need to finish dinner. You boys go wash up.”

  Joey didn’t like how his mother detached from the conversation. He doubted there was anything left to do. But the conversation had grown uncomfortable. His parents were hiding something, he was sure of it. If he pushed them, what would they say? He couldn’t bear his relationship with his parents to suffer as well.

  The back door flew open, and the tornado that was his future niece came barreling into the kitchen. “Grandma, Grandpa, we’re here. I missed you.”

  A smile broke out on his father’s face as he extended his arms and Lily leapt into them, a whirlwind of tutus and pigtails and sneakers. Laughing, Sarah followed at a much more sedate pace, stopping to place a kiss on Lucas’s cheek as he rose. “Hey.”

  Lucas gazed down at his fiancée, the look of love evident on his face. “Hey.”

  Joey studied the two of them through different eyes. Eyes that now knew what it meant to be in love. He’d had that with Brittany and had thrown it away. He hadn’t known her that long, and she’d only been gone a couple of days, but he felt her absence acutely. Because as it was right now, their relationship had died.

  Not if he had anything to say about it.

  Sarah knitted her brows and leaned closer into Lucas, her words unintelligible. Lucas shook his head and squeezed her tighter before they both turned back to Joey.

  She plastered a smile on her face. “Hey, Joey.”

  “Hey, Sarah. I see Lily’s as energetic as ever.”

  “I swear that girl never stops. I don’t know where she gets all her energy. I wish we could bottle it up.”

  That moment, Lily jumped out of Pop’s arms and ran across the kitchen. “Uncle Joey, Uncle Joey!”

  H
e scooped her up and turned her upside down. The joyful sound of her laughter filled the room.

  “Hey, squirt. How ya been?”

  “Great. I had fun at your party.”

  That day felt like a lifetime ago… so much had happened since then.

  “Mommy said you have a girlfriend.” Lily had a gleam in her eye.

  He buried his face in her neck, blowing raspberries against her skin to avoid answering the question. Lily didn’t let it go, though, and soon, Sarah joined in. “You should have brought her to dinner, Joey. I didn’t get to talk to her for very long the other day.”

  “She already left.”

  Lucas’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Sarah arched her brow at Lucas. “What is it about you Bennett men? Always turning your back on the best thing to happen to you.”

  That was exactly what Joey had done. But he had a plan. He just needed to put some things in place first and he could fix everything he’d screwed up. As long as it wasn’t too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  THE STEADY TICK-TOCK of the clock on the shelf dug into Brittany’s brain like a knife. She stared at it, the college graduation gift from her advisor that had held a place of honor since the day she’d moved in. But now, the sound grated on her every nerve. She’d made a place for herself in New York, in her home, in her job, with her friends. But since she’d returned from Oak Grove, her life fit like a dress two sizes too small. She couldn’t get comfortable. Anywhere.

  Tears had streamed down her cheeks most of the drive back from Joey’s cabin. She hadn’t let anyone get close enough to hurt her since she’d left Whitefish, convinced that love only meant pain. But she’d let her guard down with Joey, and he’d stomped all over her heart. She’d rushed into his house, grabbed her things, and left before he could follow her. She hadn’t even stopped to say goodbye to Karen’s mother. She couldn’t bear to be asked about Joey.

  He’d thrown away everything they had built with a few ugly words. Words that hurt as much as any abuse her father had inflicted. Once again, love meant pain. At least to her.