Home to You

by Robyn Carr

  She leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I don’t see any point in wasting money. Who buys a ten-thousand-dollar couch when there are starving children in Africa?”

  “I’ll make a donation to compensate. We need a couch, and we need one today.”

  “We don’t have to have one today,” she hedged. “We could shop for something we like that’s a bit cheaper.”

  “No. Enough shopping already.” He was done traipsing through one showroom after another. “Let’s have them ring it up. Otherwise, they’ll close before we get anything at all.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled.

  Bedroom furniture came next. By the time they’d picked out two beds, including mattresses and box springs, and a kitchenette set, which was all that would fit in their small house, plus a couple of coffee tables and side chairs, they’d been gone all day. They arranged to have it delivered on Monday, since the store didn’t offer that service on the weekend, and headed out, tired but happy.

  “We still need a TV, a washer and dryer and some patio furniture.” Gail ticked these items off on her fingers as they walked.

  “It’s after nine o’clock,” he said.

  “I know. At least we made a dent in it.”

  “Furnishing a house by yourself is a lot of work,” he complained as he held the door for her.

  “You probably haven’t done it in a while.”

  “Not in a long while.”

  “But it feels good, doesn’t it?”

  He studied her tired smile. Being with her felt good. He was beginning to think it didn’t matter what they were doing.

  Twenty-One

  “Should we stay in our house tonight?” Gail had fallen asleep against the door of the car, so this was spoken through a yawn while Simon was still driving. But she seemed excited by the idea. Simon was sort of excited by it himself. He didn’t know why such a simple thing—camping out at their new home—would sound remotely enjoyable to someone who’d traveled the whole world and had the finest of everything. But the idea made him feel light and free, unshackled for the first time in years. When was the last time he hadn’t had to watch over his shoulder for determined paparazzi, an overly zealous fan or his ex-wife, who felt she could show up at his house whenever she wanted, despite the restraining order? Maybe his past was still following him around. He had to remain vigilant for more than a couple of weeks before he could outdistance his previous behavior. But he was feeling more like his old self. He wasn’t even craving alcohol as much as he had in the past several days, which proved he wasn’t an alcoholic. With enough determination he could let it go.

  “Stay there without furniture?” he said.

  “We could borrow my dad’s blow-up mattress and a couple of sleeping bags.”

  “And get out from under his roof? I don’t know—” he pretended to be giving it a great deal of thought “—you’d really have to twist my arm to do that.”

  This bit of sarcasm elicited a playful slug from Gail. “Stop. He was better to you last night.”

  “Considering how things began, there was only one way he could go.”

  “It was my brother who was rude,” she argued. “My dad didn’t say anything.”

  “Your dad was stoic. But he kept shaking his head as if he just couldn’t believe his wonderful daughter would be stupid enough to hook up with me. I wouldn’t call that polite.”

  When she laughed, he did, too. He’d once thought she was so much more appealing when she let down her guard and relaxed. Now she was appealing all the time.

  How had he worked with her for so long and been unable to detect her charm?

  He’d been blinded by his own troubles. Or by the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. Maybe he was as subject to following the crowd as anyone else, despite how jaded he’d become.

  “How’s your hand?” she asked.

  “Starting to itch.”

  “That’s a good sign.” She tightened her seat belt. “You’re leaving the stitches alone, though, aren’t you?”

  He shot her an are-you-kidding-me look. “What am I—five?”

  “Sometimes you don’t know what’s good for you.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  She cleared her throat. “So...about Matt.”

  Surprised that she’d return to this subject, he adjusted the volume on the radio so it wouldn’t be distracting. “What about him?”

  “I’m fine with our arrangement. You don’t have to worry that I’ll regret our deal or anything. My commitment hasn’t changed.”

  He wasn’t sure how to respond. He didn’t want her to stay with him because she felt obligated—and yet that would make it easiest to split up when the time came. “How did you know I was worried?”

  She pursed her lips in a smug fashion. “I’m starting to figure you out.”

  “Which means...”

  “You’re not as tough as you act.”

  “Oh, God. Now I’m losing all my mystery? How much worse can things get?”

  He’d been joking, but she answered seriously. “Things are only going to get better. There hasn’t been one negative article printed about you in two weeks.”

  * * *

  “What about the windows?” Simon asked as they were packing up.

  “What about them?” Gail responded.

  He pictured how easy it would be to peer in at them in their new place. “They aren’t covered.”

  “So? There aren’t any neighbors.” She said this while struggling to get her suitcase zipped. Simon chuckled at the sight of her sitting on it before waving her off so he could finish.

  “What about the paparazzi?” he said. “They’ll find us eventually.”

  She’d already moved on to closing down her laptop. “How would they trace us to Autumn Lane? No paperwork’s been recorded—not yet.”

  Once he’d succeeded in closing her suitcase, he gathered up their bags. “We aren’t making it a secret where we live. Pretty soon everyone in town will know.”

  “But not tonight,” she said. “So far only a handful of people even know we bought a house.”

  Something else occurred to him. “What about water?”

  She glanced up. “Don’t you want to go over there?”

  He did. Definitely. But he didn’t want to be miserable. “If the utilities are on.”

  “Even if there’s no water we can make it for one night, can’t we?” She slipped her power cord in her briefcase. “We’ll use the bathroom here before we go. At least we’ll have a few hours of privacy without constantly worrying about how we’re coming off to my father and brother.” She grinned. “I’d hate to get you all excited about skipping out on my family and then renege on the deal.”

  He lowered his voice. Her brother wasn’t home, but her father was asleep in his bedroom. “Too bad you’ll never meet my family so you can see what meeting the in-laws is really like.”

  “You plan on avoiding them for two years?”

  He thought of his father and how their relationship had flip-flopped through the years. When he’d married Bella, they’d actually been close for the first time in his life. He could hardly believe that now. “I don’t have to avoid my family. They know to stay away.”

  “You’re willing to give them up for good?”

  “They gave me up first,” he said. Especially my father. He started down with the suitcases, leaving her to get her computer and makeup bag from the bathroom.

  Her brother walked in as Simon was going out to load the car. “You guys moving already?”

  Simon stepped aside to avoid a collision. “Got our own place now.”

  Joe shook his head. “For the life of me I can’t believe you’re staying in Whiskey Creek.”

  “Why not? The people here
are so friendly.”

  It was a joke, but Joe’s ears turned red. “I meant since you’re famous. Matt Stinson, who plays ball for the Packers, has been our only claim to fame. He probably hates it that you’re in town.”

  “In more ways than one,” Simon muttered, crouching to fix a wheel on Gail’s suitcase.

  “What’d you say?”

  He lifted his head. “I said I’m going to get your sister a new suitcase.”

  “Oh.” Joe lowered his voice. “You love her, don’t you?”

  For a moment, Simon felt tongue-tied. How could he respond to this? It was a question that begged an honest answer.

  Fortunately, when he hesitated, Joe added, “You’d never do anything to hurt her....”

  Grateful for the slightly different slant, Simon stood. “No. I would never do anything to hurt her,” he said, and he meant it.

  Her brother seemed relieved. “Good.”

  Gail hurried down the stairs with the last of her belongings and gave her brother a hug. “How’d it go at the station today?”

  “Fine. I think Robbie’s getting the hang of it. I stayed with him tonight so I could keep an eye on things while he did his homework.”

  “That was nice of you.” She gestured toward the stairs. “Dad was asleep when we got home. Will you tell him we’ll see him tomorrow?”

  “Sure. By the way...” He caught them before they could leave. “There were some people asking about you at the station earlier.”

  Leaving the suitcases at the door, Simon turned. “People?”

  “Reporters, I think. They didn’t identify themselves. They wanted to know if Simon O’Neal had been in town.”

  “What did you tell them?” Gail asked.

  “That I hadn’t seen him. They didn’t seem to realize I was your brother. But... I get the impression word is out that you’re in Whiskey Creek, so...keep your eyes open for an ambush.”

  “So much for our short reprieve,” she said to Simon. “Do we dare sally forth? We could always roast marshmallows here and watch a movie on Netflix or Hulu.”

  “Wouldn’t be the same,” he said. “I’m willing to risk it.”

  * * *

  Someone knocked on the door of their new house even sooner than Simon had expected. They’d just hauled in their bags. Gail was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. He’d been wrong about the utilities; they had both water and electricity. But because of the late hour—it was nearly eleven—and what Joe had said, there was a greater chance of their visitor being someone Simon didn’t want to see than someone he did. He couldn’t imagine many people staying out so late on a weeknight here in the town that time forgot.

  It had to be a reporter from one of the tabloids. Or some obsessed fan who’d managed to track him down. Simon had experienced both and didn’t want to deal with either, especially considering his injured hand, which limited his ability to protect Gail, if it ever came down to that.

  He peered out the window. He could see the dark shape of someone standing on the porch, but he couldn’t tell who it was or anything about why he or she had come. The outdoor light wouldn’t go on. He figured it was burned out, since the rest of their lights worked.

  “Gail? It’s me!” their visitor called. “I—I know it’s late, but Joe said you’d be here. And I wanted you to have this while it’s still warm.”

  Suddenly more curious than defensive, Simon opened the door to find Sophia—the woman he’d met at the coffee shop, the one who’d alienated everyone years ago with her behavior.

  “Sorry to bother you.” She was carrying what looked like an apple pie and seemed flustered that he’d answered instead of Gail.

  “It’s fine.” He held the screen door. “Would you like to come in?”

  She ducked her head as she stepped past him, which brought her hair forward, concealing much of her expression. “I made you both a housewarming gift.” Her gaze briefly met his. She was even prettier up close, but he felt no attraction to her. He wasn’t sure if that was because she was married, or because he was.

  “Thank you,” he said as he took the pie. She had oven mitts on her hands, but the ceramic dish was no longer hot enough to need them. “Apple?”

  “Yes.”

  “Smells delicious. I’ll put it in the kitchen.”

  “Where’s Gail?” she called after him.

  “In the bathroom. She’ll be out in a sec.”

  Gail came into the room as he was returning. “I thought I heard a woman’s voice.”

  Sophia smiled in relief. She obviously didn’t feel comfortable around Simon. But he didn’t resent that. He was relieved to know she hadn’t come because of him. “I brought you another pie. You really liked it the last time you were home.”

  Gail’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, right. I did. Thank you.”

  “I’ve been baking a lot lately.”

  “The last time we talked, you mentioned that you were thinking about getting a job. How did that go?”

  She shrugged. “I decided against it.”

  “Why?”

  “Skip doesn’t think it’s a good idea, not while Lexi’s so young. He’s worried about me not being around enough as she goes through puberty.”

  Simon couldn’t help noting the double standard. Hadn’t she told him at the coffee shop that her husband was frequently gone himself?

  “But...you were talking about a few hours a week at the B and B with Chey and Eve—nothing too time-consuming.”

  “Turned out they didn’t need the help.”

  Simon guessed that was a lie, but Gail quickly covered for her friends. “I think they’re having a tough time staying in the black.”

  Sophia let it slide. “You’re probably right.”

  “Anyway, I’m sorry you have to put off the job search.”

  “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

  Gail motioned to the empty room. “And I’m sorry we can’t offer you a seat....”

  “That’s okay. I can’t stay. Skip will be wondering where I went—if he ever gets off the phone.”

  After shooting Simon a glance, Gail said, “He’s home this week?”

  “Got home late last night. He does that sometimes. Just shows up out of the blue.” She laughed, although there was no real mirth in it, and when she tucked her hair behind her ear she immediately untucked it—but not before Simon saw the bruise on her cheek.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  She acted confused. “What do you mean?”

  “To your cheek.”

  “Oh, that.” She rolled her eyes. “I ran into the door. Can you believe it? Clumsy, huh?”

  Gail stepped up to inspect her injury. “Looks painful.”

  “It’s not. Not really. It’ll heal.”

  “When did this happen?” Simon asked.

  “Last night.”

  Before or after her husband came home? Simon had no reason to assume that Skip might be abusing his wife. Except that her excuse seemed flimsy. And the way she talked about her husband, as if he had the last say in everything, sounded suspect.

  “I know this weekend isn’t good for you with everything you’ve got going, but let me know if you can come to dinner sometime next week,” she said, and headed for the door.

  When Gail asked, “What day were you thinking?” Simon almost laughed out loud. He’d been right about how hard it was for her to withhold her friendship.

  “Tuesday? Wednesday?”

  “Tuesday should work. What time?”

  “Six?”

  Gail’s smile grew more certain. “Perfect. Can we bring dessert? Or the wine?”

  “There’s no need. I’ve got everything. Thanks. Thanks a lot.” Seemingly excited to have obtained a commitment, she left.


  “Way to hold your ground,” Simon teased after Gail had closed the door. “You showed her.”

  She groaned. “I know. I’m such a sucker.”

  “That’s okay.” He tweaked her nose. “I like suckers. Especially when they’re as cute as you are.”

  “Because I’m a sucker for you, too,” she said with a disgruntled look.

  “Since when?” he asked with a grin. “If I’d known that, I’d have been taking advantage of it.”

  She was too busy berating herself for caving with Sophia to respond. “Why did I say yes?”

  “Because you had to. She was trying so hard. And it’ll be okay. I just hope she can cook.” He took the mattress out of the box and began to assemble the pump.

  “She can bake. I don’t know about anything else. We’ve never been friends. I just agreed to have dinner with the girl who stole my date for junior prom simply because she could.”

  “You didn’t tell me about that.”

  “Because it’s not what matters. Not compared to Scott.”

  “Something like that is pretty traumatic to a teenager....”

  “I couldn’t blame the guy who ditched me. My dad was so strict I had to be home by eleven o’clock, which counted out the after-party. And my prom dress would’ve looked like a gunnysack compared to everyone else’s. He wouldn’t let me show an inch of skin.”

  Simon smiled at the image she painted of herself as an embarrassed girl with a domineering father. “Ah, now I see where you developed your penchant for the boxy business suit.”

  Her eyebrows came together. “Why don’t you like my suits? They’re stylish.”

  He had to speak over the whine of the air pump. “It’d be nice to see you in something sexy for a change.”

  “That won’t fix the red hair and freckles. I’m sure you can see how I might get passed over.”

  She had a lot more to offer than most women. But he didn’t say so. He’d passed over her, hadn’t he? It took a second look to really see her beauty. “There’s nothing wrong with your appearance. Anyway, I’m glad you gave in on dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “Beats kicking Sophia while she’s down.”