“I found this place in Denver,” he started off with. “They specialize in injuries like yours. They have hydrotherapy treadmills that would allow you to get back to running as soon as you’re able to put pressure on your leg again.”
My natural instinct was to pull away, especially since he was behaving like he really cared about me. He shouldn’t be researching places or interested in my recovery. But instead of pushing him away I found my grip tightening along with my chest. I wanted nothing more than to get back to normal and to run. But how could I? “I can’t do the water.”
“It would be like taking a bath.”
“I haven’t been able to take one since that night,” I admitted. Inside I was screaming at myself for it.
“What if I did it with you?”
I tilted my head and grinned. “You want to take a bath with me?”
Embarrassment crept up his neck and into his cheeks. “Yes, but I won’t.”
“Too bad.”
He rubbed his neck with his free hand. “You really know how to get to a guy, don’t you?”
“Most guys, maybe every guy but you, would have already had me upstairs after such an offer.”
“You deserve better than most guys.”
I pulled my hand away. “You can’t know that.”
He hung his head like he had lost. “Cheyenne,” he whispered as if it was my touch he was mourning. No man ever missed holding my hand. Other things they seemed to crave, but nothing as innocent or simple. But I was neither innocent nor simple.
He lifted his head and with one look captured all my attention. “If you change your mind, I’ll give you the contact information to the rehabilitation center. I’d be happy to go with you.” I swore it sounded like he was begging me to let him. Begging me to go.
That wasn’t going to do. I needed to remind myself that he was a man. And men were terrible. “Enough about me. You mentioned before that you’ve made a lot of mistakes and that they were one of the reasons you moved here. Let’s explore those.”
He started to pick up my plate. “Don’t you have work this morning?”
I looked at the clock on the mostly unused stove. “I have half an hour. That should do it. Or do you have several we need to go over?”
He set my plate back down and sighed.
“That bad, huh?” That made me happy. I needed him not to be different.
“Like everyone, I have a lot of regrets in life.”
“Speak for yourself.”
He leaned back. “You don’t have regrets?”
“When you don’t care about what other people think about you, you don’t have to regret a thing.”
“Not even one?”
The night I first kissed him popped into mind. It was amazing, but . . . I regretted not being able to forget about it or him. I hated that I cared about what Aidan thought about me. It was disconcerting. “Maybe one.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it. Tell me, besides being completely wrong about me, what’s your biggest regret.”
His lips twitched into a half-smile before taking their normal serious stance. He sat back in his chair and contemplated before speaking. I could see the internal debate in those fantastic eyes of his. Whatever he was thinking of must have been a doozy. That was good. I needed it to be. He slowly let out a deep breath. “I hurt Mary deeply.”
Hate blew in like a hurricane. “I thought you said you never cheated on anyone?” Why was I so freaking disappointed in him? I was supposed to be happy.
Shock etched his features. “There are other ways to hurt someone. Some even worse than infidelity.” Regret ran through each of his words.
“Did you abuse her?”
“No. No. Never.”
“Then what?”
He ran his fingers through his hair several times. “Mary and I were friends for several years before we ever became romantically involved. For me, I loved that we had always been able to be open and honest about everything. I thought she liked that too, but once we started dating, and especially after we got married, that all changed.”
“How?”
“For instance, before we started dating and she asked me if she looked good in a particular outfit and I said no, she laughed it off and changed. Once we were a couple, she played off the hurt. I didn’t realize it until it was too late.” He became very still in thought. Pain appeared in his eyes. “We hadn’t been married long, and one night as we lay in bed she asked me if I thought she was the most beautiful woman. Before I thought about what she was really asking or what she needed from me, I blurted out no. I thought she was being unrealistic, and I didn’t need her to be the most beautiful woman in the world. That’s not why I fell in love with her. Her tears covered my chest before she turned from me. I couldn’t understand why.”
I shook my head at him. “That’s awful.”
“I know. I was a jerk.”
“That’s true, but I was referring to the fact that she needed you to validate her. That she placed her self-worth in your hands. It belonged in her own.”
“Everyone needs reassurance from time to time.”
“Not me. At least not from anybody but myself. Everybody has an opinion and usually a motive, so who do you believe? The people that love you or the ones that despise you? How can they both be right?”
“Mary didn’t need me to validate her.” His tightened jaw screamed I had ticked him off. “All she wanted was to feel secure, and I failed her. And for the rest of our marriage I knew there was always a part of her that felt like I thought she never measured up. She had no idea that she did become the most beautiful woman to me as time went on, even though I tried to assure her that’s how I felt. That’s how I saw her. No one held my attention like her.” He stood up with his plate and mine, and threw them in my sink with a loud clang. I’m surprised they didn’t break.
Not as surprised, though, at the jealousy that coursed through me. He made it clear he wasn’t over his wife, and he was loud and clear about the kind of woman he wanted. I was no Mary.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I had successfully rid myself of Paxton and Aidan all in a matter of twenty-four hours. I should have been congratulating myself. It’s what I wanted, after all. Aidan’s angry silence while he cleaned up and then when he left, barely uttering a goodbye, ran through my mind all day as I did hair. I told him to leave the mess. That’s what cleaning services were for, but he stubbornly stayed until the kitchen surfaces gleamed. I watched him without saying a word. I couldn’t understand his motivation. I didn’t understand him, period. It ticked me off how much that weighed on me. How it bothered me that he left and I knew he wasn’t coming back. I didn’t like him, I repeated over and over. Yes, I wanted him, but that was purely physical. Yes. I could work with that rationale.
I was only having withdrawals. It was amazing I had made it this long. Sure, I fell off the wagon a few times with Aidan, but it meant nothing. Absolutely nothing. I would think it until I believed it.
I couldn’t understand why he was so upset, anyway. It’s not my fault his wife was sensitive or that he was too stupid not to lie to her to begin with. Even more, I couldn’t understand how he believed she was the most beautiful woman in the world. I had seen a picture of her. But when he said it, I knew he was telling the truth.
Maybe I was shallow. Ugh! I didn’t need this or him.
My day felt like a blur. I was there, but everyone around me seemed like figures in a dream. I knew people were talking around me, even talking about me. The pregnancy rumor wasn’t going to be dying down anytime soon. I was going to let it play out. It was taking precedence over Abby’s drama, so it made it worth it. Besides, I knew the truth and I’m sure Aidan would make sure everyone knew he would never father a child with me. Or maybe he would move. Really, what was holding him here anyway? He had six other siblings he could live near. I still couldn’t believe that. Who had eight kids?
I was in a f
unk the next day too. Aidan never called. Not that I expected him to. Okay, so maybe I did. What was I going to do with all the food in the refrigerator? I wished that was the real reason I wanted him to call.
Sunday I had to shake out of it. I convinced Abby to skip church and we took the girls shopping in Denver for school clothes. Connor thought he was too cool to shop with his mom, and Maddie was going to church, so that settled it.
I was proud of Abby, she didn’t look at price tags or worry about how much she was spending. She even bought herself a couple cute outfits. I could tell, though, that for her and the girls it was a hollow experience. It didn’t do anything to cover up the pain they were going through. I hated Shane more and more.
That hate only grew on Monday—Labor Day and my birthday, of all days. Normally we all got together and barbecued as a goodbye to summer, but under the circumstances, Abby didn’t want to. And no one had mentioned my birthday. I got it. Abby was our focus. Okay, maybe the selfish part of me, which was most of me, was a tad irritated that no one was thinking about my fortieth birthday. I mean, I had thrown two fabulous parties for my best friends earlier in the year when they each turned forty. I put my big girl panties on and forgot about it. At least, I did after I ordered myself a nine-hundred-dollar bottle of my favorite perfume. That’s right. Nine-hundred-dollars, baby, and worth every dollar.
My hopes rose early Monday morning, though, when my phone rang and it was Abby. I knew they couldn’t have completely forgotten. But Abby was sobbing into the phone.
“Abs, what’s wrong?”
Massive hiccupping and shudders rang through into my ear. She was scaring me.
“Are you all right? Is something wrong with the kids?”
“I . . . I . . . got a . . . message . . . this . . . morning.” She barely got that out.
“What kind of message?” Please let it be that Shane died. I was crossing my fingers.
“The woman . . .”
“The tramp?”
“Yes, her.” She sniffled.
“She contacted you?” Irate was an understatement.
“Yes.” She cried some more and then some more.
I wanted to yank out of her what it was all about, but Abby was in a state.
After a few minutes, she took several deep breaths. “She sent me a message through Facebook apologizing.”
“What the hell?”
“I know. She said she felt guilty so she looked me up. She said she hoped she hadn’t caused any problems in my marriage. It looked like we had a nice family.”
The longest string of four letter words came out like a tidal wave. How dare she, and how dare Shane.
“She’s beautiful and young.” The defeat in Abby’s voice sent me over the edge. You don’t know how bad I had been wishing the harlot looked like a hag.
I jumped out of bed. Yeah, it killed my leg, but I didn’t care. I was on a mission. “Abby, hang tight. I’m sending help and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I can’t do this anymore,” she cried.
“You’ve got this. I love you and this is going to be okay. I promise.” I hung up and called Jessie, giving her a brief overview and directions to head over to Abby’s. I would meet them there, but first I had a stop to make. I threw on some shorts and a tank top. I didn’t worry about hair or makeup. Killing Shane didn’t require dressing up.
I hobbled down to my car. The crutches were only going to get in the way. I sped all the way to Aidan’s, even when passing two cops. They knew better than to pull me over. I could either talk my way out of a ticket or use other means if they were single and the dirt I had ran deep on each of them, so they watched me speed by shaking their heads. I stepped harder on the gas pedal. I hoped Shane wasn’t on call, and with any luck, Aidan wouldn’t be home, but it didn’t matter. Shane was in for a world of hurt.
Evil glee filled me when I saw Shane’s semi new truck in Aidan’s driveway. It made the hate bubble up even more. Abby drove an older mini-van while he drove an expensive truck. He bought it under the guise that it was useful and they needed it for projects around the house. The ones he never got to, mind you. I pulled in behind him, blocking him in.
It was a little weird that Aidan lived in Rachel’s old place, not like I had been there more than once or twice while she lived here. The home looked like Rachel. Snow White could have definitely lived in the modern wood home. It screamed domestic charm. I could see why Aidan would like it. It looked like a place Mary would have loved. I wasn’t thinking about it.
I marched up the walk to the front door, ignoring the pain shooting through my leg. The swelling had been going down and the pain easing. I knew I was undoing my progress, but I was on a mission and nothing, not even scorching pain, was getting in my way.
I went to pound on the door, but I was caught off guard by the sound I heard. Someone was masterfully playing a piano and singing like they had a recording contract. That someone was making me want him more. The rumor was true; Aidan had talent. The kind that made women’s clothes fall off. I listened closer to his deep, sensual tune about a lost love. I wasn’t surprised that’s what he would sing about. Damn him and all men. I pounded on the door with such force my hand hurt.
The music ceased with my relentless assault on his door.
It didn’t take him long to answer. He stood stunned in only pajama pants with bedhead.
I couldn’t help but admire his chest. I’d seen it before at one of the Turners’ lake parties, but it had been a while, and I had forgotten how much I liked it. He wasn’t a six pack of abs sort of man, but he was defined and cut in all the right places. His chest hair looked inviting. I had visions of me resting my head on it. No. No. I was on a mission and I was over his kind.
“Cheyenne.” His eyes hit my leg. “Where are your crutches?”
I pushed past him into his almost empty house. All I could see was a grand piano and a couch. “That’s none of your concern. I’m here to see the pig you let live here.”
Aidan ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure he’s up yet.” Good thing he didn’t deny he was a pig or we would have been having words too.
I would have been surprised if he was still sleeping, considering the concert Aidan had been putting on. I didn’t care if he was awake or not. I was finding his butt and ripping a hole in it. “Where’s he staying?”
Aidan was wary of answering me. He knew I meant business.
But he didn’t have to. Shane reared his ugly head from the loft that could be seen from the entryway. Even from where I stood I could tell he looked like hell. Well, he better get used to it because that’s where he was headed. If there was such a place. If not, I was planning on making his existence a living hell.
“What are you doing here, Cheyenne?”
I walked into the great room, keeping my eyes laser focused on him. “How dare you give your tramp Abby’s name. What is wrong with you, besides the obvious?”
“What are you talking about?”
I felt Aidan stand by my side before my peripheral vision saw him. “Don’t play innocent. Your little girlfriend contacted Abby this morning to apologize for your quote-unquote indiscretion. Do you have any idea what that has done to her? What you’ve done to her?” I yelled.
I could see the blood drain from his face before he trudged down the stairs.
“Sit down, Cheyenne. You need to get off that leg.” Aidan waved toward his leather couch.
I whipped my head toward Aidan. “Don’t pretend you care.”
Aidan stepped back with widened eyes. That’s right, he’d better not come near me.
I focused back on the piece of garbage walking my way looking pathetic in a holey t-shirt and athletic shorts. How Abby woke up to that every morning for the last eighteen years I had no idea.
Shane smartly kept his distance. “I didn’t give Quincy—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t speak her name around me. And how you throw her name out so casually says a lot
.”
“You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”
I shifted, trying to release some pressure on my leg. “Oh really? Then how come you haven’t asked how Abby is?”
His head and shoulders dropped in what was almost an audible thud.
“That’s right, you lying sack of dirt. You never think of her first. You’ve always placed yourself in that spot.”
“That’s not true.” He spoke to the floor.
“Listen to yourself, not even you believe that. Just do the right thing now and walk away.”
His head bolted up. Steel and fire brewed in his eyes. “I love Abby.”
My mirth-filled laugh echoed through the almost bare space. “The hell you do. You’ve been too busy loving yourself all these years.”
He dared to step closer. “What do you know about it, Cheyenne? You don’t even know what real love is. Name one real relationship you’ve ever had.”
“Shane,” Aidan’s voice had a warning edge to it.
Shane and I both looked his way. He was staring at Shane, and his look said to watch it.
I didn’t need him to fight my battles. I got in Shane’s face and poked his chest. “I count myself lucky to have never given a man the chance to decimate me the way you have Abby. She gave you her everything, and in return you mistreated her. If that’s what you call love, I want no part of it. And the only reason you know what real love is, is because your wife has shown it to you. Not the other way around. So you tell me one real relationship you’ve ever had. Because I think relationships go both ways, buddy.”
Shane’s face went from angry red to embarrassed. His eyes welled up with tears. “I love my wife,” he repeated.
“Prove it.”
“I’m not walking away from my family.”
“You did exactly that the night you followed that tramp into her hotel room.”
“I made a mistake.”
“This goes beyond a mistake, and until you can see it, you have no right trying to reconcile with Abby. You don’t deserve her. You never have.”
Cheyenne (The Women of Merryton Book 4) Page 16