After the Rain (The Callahans)

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After the Rain (The Callahans) Page 8

by Jennifer Hayden


  Trey grabbed hold of her arm and tugged her back toward him, sending the couple an apologetic look. Then he glanced down at her, a crooked smile on his face. “You’re drunk, Montana.”

  “Nooooooo. I’m just having fun. Where did Elle go?”

  “Home to puke, probably.”

  “That’s too bad. Things were just getting fun. Maybe Joey could make me another one of those candy things.”

  “I think you’ve had enough.”

  She frowned for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders, finally giving in and leaning her head against his chest. “We could dance,” she said again. “You smell good,” she added, once her nose was buried in his shirt.

  “You’re lit,” he said back, his hands reaching up to tangle in her hair. He tipped her face up so he could look into her eyes. They were definitely bloodshot. “How much have you had?”

  She smiled again. “I don’t know. I don’t usually drink.” She hiccupped, and then let her head fall against his chest again. “Don’t you ever take this thing off?” She poked at his gun, nestled snugly in its holster beneath the jacket he had picked up at the station.

  “Nope. Not when I’m working.”

  She didn’t reply to that, just burrowed in closer to him. He shut his eyes and counted to ten. This felt way too good. Just holding her close to him felt good—even if she was three sheets to the wind. Giving in to temptation, he wrapped his arms around her waist and let his head rest against hers. They swayed that way for a while, neither saying anything.

  “Trey?”

  He lifted his head and looked down at her. “Yeah, baby.”

  “Maybe we should go outside and get some air. It’s really hot in here.”

  “Uh oh.” He tugged on her arm, not liking the pasty look to her skin. He pulled her through the crowd and beyond the bar, into a back room. She barely made it as far as the bathroom before she threw up all over the floor.

  11

  Kylie opened her eyes, trying desperately to ignore the pounding in her head. A marching band was trampling over her forehead, she was sure of it. The light from the window was like a nail scratching against her eyeballs and she groaned. What the hell had happened to her?

  Turning over, she looked around the room. She was home in the Callahan house, in Elle’s old room. The clock on the bedside table read eleven-thirty. She sat up abruptly and winced as the pounding in her head escalated.

  Slowly, the events of the night before came back to her. She remembered going on a motorcycle ride with Trey. She remembered them talking. She’d told him about the rape. And then she’d gotten drunk off her ass at the bar. She didn’t remember coming home. She didn’t even remember undressing or getting into bed. She’d never had much to drink before. It obviously didn’t affect her well.

  Sliding her feet over the side of the bed, she padded into the bathroom and checked her reflection out in the mirror. As she expected, it was hideous. Her make-up was smeared under her eyes and her hair was sticking out in clumps. She was glad Trey wasn’t around to see her.

  Half an hour later, she had showered and dressed. She walked into the kitchen, her eyes zeroing in on the coffee pot, immediately. It was empty.

  “I can make more.”

  She jumped, shutting her eyes in embarrassment. So he was home. When she opened her eyes, Trey’s amused face came into view. He was leaned back against the counter, a grin on his face as he studied her, intently.

  “Not feeling well this morning, Montana?”

  She frowned, not sure what to say.

  “Sit down. I’ll make another pot of coffee.”

  She didn’t argue. Her head was pounding again and it was beginning to upset her already weak stomach. Sliding into a kitchen chair, she propped her head up on her hand as she watched him measure the coffee. “Dare I ask what I drank last night?”

  “You’d have to ask Joe. He was making you drinks before I got there.”

  “I never drink,” she said, for lack of anything better.

  “So I gathered.” He flipped the coffee pot on and turned to face her. “Don’t worry. You only stripped naked and danced on the bar. Nothing major.”

  Her eyes grew wide as saucers.

  “I’m kidding, Montana. You didn’t do anything worse than puke on my shoes.”

  “Oh, God.”

  She heard him laugh and wanted to die right then. How embarrassing.

  “Don’t feel so bad. Leo called this morning and said Elle threw up all over his truck and the bathroom when she got home. He had to take care of her all night.” He grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it, once the coffee had brewed. “All you did was puke once and pass out.”

  “Stop. Don’t say any more.” She took the coffee he offered and sipped it carefully, afraid her stomach would rebel. “Why are you home? Don’t you have to work today?”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  So it was.

  He leaned against the counter, quietly, and she could feel those deep, blue eyes on her.

  “Are you going to rub it in that I made an ass of myself?”

  “I was planning on it. But I guess I could be persuaded to give you a break.”

  “Good.” She took several more sips of coffee, thankful that it was settling okay. “Where is everyone?”

  “Restaurant. It opens at noon on Sundays. By the way, you didn’t really make an ass of yourself. You just had a little fun.”

  She looked up at him to see if he was teasing her. He looked serious enough.

  “I don’t even remember coming home and getting in bed.”

  “That’ll happen when you pass out. We almost let you sleep at the restaurant but in the end, I let Joe take my bike and I took his truck and brought you home. Faye and Dusty had to stay and clean up. I dumped you on the bed and you curled up and went to sleep.”

  “I’m sorry,” was all she could think of to say.

  “Don’t worry about it. One time, when I was sixteen, I stole a bottle of Jim Beam and drank the entire thing out behind the guesthouse. Made me sicker than a dog. I puked in the pool. Dusty had to drag me up to my room and strain all kinds of crap out of the water. I owed him for a long time after that one.”

  She found herself smiling, in spite of the pain in her head. “That’s some behavior for a future sheriff.”

  He didn’t argue. “I was a handful as a kid. We all were except for Elle. She’s a handful now, instead.”

  “She’s nice. I like her.”

  “She’s a doll,” he agreed. “She keeps Leo on his toes.”

  “Your whole family is nice. The party was fun last night, from what I can remember.”

  “There are a lot of nice people in this town. If you stick around for a while you’ll see that.” He pushed away from the counter and walked over to the table to sit down. “So I was thinking, if you want to, maybe we could hang out today.”

  She was surprised that he would want to hang out with her after she’d behaved like such a wacko the day before. “Are you a masochist?”

  He smiled at that. “Maybe.”

  She was having trouble figuring this guy out. Last night he’d been attentive and caring. Then he’d turned cold on her outside of Callahan’s. She only remembered bits and pieces of being with him at the bar. But clearly, she remembered dancing in his arms. The memory brought a flush to her face.

  “If you’re uncomfortable around me, I can back off.”

  “I’m not,” she surprised herself by saying. “I’m kind of surprised you aren’t turning tail and running for the hills.”

  “Because that’s what all the other men in your life have done?”

  She shrugged, her head starting to feel a little better now.

  “I can’t make you promises, Kylie. I’m not sure exactly what the cards hold here. Can you accept that and just take things day by day with me?”

  She knew she had strong feelings for him or she wouldn’t have felt comfortable telling him what had happened to her. “I’m not
good at intimacy, Trey. You know that. It’s always been a deal breaker in every other relationship that I’ve had.” The words had to be said, even though she didn’t want to say them.

  “You don’t have anything to worry about there. Nothing is going to happen between us that you don’t want to happen. Let’s just get to know each other.”

  “I’d like that.” She felt a sense of relief.

  “So how about a movie?” He slid the paper over to her. “Pick something out.”

  She picked a romantic comedy, which he didn’t give her too hard a time over. She felt comfortable sitting close to him in the dark theater, sharing popcorn and soda. Afterward, he suggested they go a little further from town to get some dinner, hoping to avoid all the Callahans and their speculation. The place he chose was a hamburger joint, twenty miles from town. They talked over burgers and fries. She learned that he’d gone to college for a year, before dropping out and heading to the police academy. She told him that she had attended the University of Montana in Missoula and then moved back to Riverdale after graduating, to begin her teaching career. They discussed his work and her kindergarten kids. The conversation flowed easily and she was disappointed when it was time to leave the restaurant.

  The drive back to town was quick too. Before she knew it, they were parked in front of the house. It was nearly dark. The house was lit up and she knew everyone was home. She didn’t want to go inside. She heard him turn the ignition off.

  “I had fun today. We should do it again sometime.” He cracked a smile. “Only next time I think we should see something with a little more action.”

  “Deal,” she agreed, reaching for the door handle.

  “So are you gonna slug me if I try to kiss you goodnight?”

  Stunned, she froze. He hadn’t really attempted to touch her all day, besides a little bit of innocent handholding. When their eyes met, she felt herself shake her head. She realized that she wanted him to kiss her. Memories of the night before were still very vivid in her head.

  He leaned toward her and she met him half way, their lips barely touching at first. Her eyes shut and she waited for the assault that never came. His mouth was soft and undemanding. It just slid across her lips slowly and then it was gone. She didn’t feel anxiety, she felt need. Apparently, he sensed that because he leaned forward again, this time burying his hand in her hair and pulling her face closer to his. His tongue licked at her bottom lip and then the top, before moving into her mouth and dancing with hers. Her body seemed to take on a life of its own. She was moving toward him before she realized it, her hands boldly wrapping around his neck.

  They stayed that way for a long time, neither bothering to stop for more than a second and only to take a breath.

  The sound of his chirping phone shattered the moment and he disengaged himself, breathing deeply. He looked down at the phone clipped to his belt and checked the ID, before swearing. “It’s the station.”

  “I should go in anyway. I think we have an audience.” She indicated the front window where several shadows didn’t bother to hide the fact that they were there.

  Trey rolled his eyes. “I’ll call you or come up to the house later.”

  She nodded and climbed from the vehicle.

  “Hey, Montana?”

  She turned and met his gaze, her fingers brushing against her mouth, still sensitive from the kissing they had done.

  “Thanks for today. I really did have a great time.”

  She smiled. “Me too. And Trey?”

  He glanced at her, cautiously.

  “I think I might want to paint faces for the kids next week, if you still want me to.” She’d been thinking about the carnival a lot over the past few days. She knew now that she really wanted to help out.

  “That would be great. Does that mean you’re going to stick around for a while?”

  “At least until the wedding. I have a house I just bought back home that I really need to get to work on. It’s a fixer.”

  “I didn’t peg you for the fixer type.”

  She shrugged. “I like a challenge. Maybe I can show you a picture some time.”

  “I’d like that. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She stood there and watched as he backed the SUV up and sped off toward town. She knew she was getting in too deep with him. The question was, was it too late to stop herself?

  12

  Kylie stared at the wedding invitation samples in front of her. Faye sat across from her, a frown on her face. Kylie hadn’t realized how much preparation went into planning a wedding. There were not only invitations to pick out, but also a place for the ceremony and reception, dresses for the bridesmaids, tuxedos for the men, food and who knew what else. Since she’d gotten home the night before, they’d been pouring over samples with Dusty, who seemed rather ambivalent about the whole thing. This wasn’t settling well with Faye. She was hormonal and cranky.

  “They’re terrible. This is the third printer I’ve looked at and they’re terrible.”

  “You have to make a decision soon,” Kylie reasoned, ignoring the warning look Dusty sent her way, from the other side of the kitchen counter. “They have to be mailed in a week, according to etiquette.”

  “Screw etiquette,” Faye snapped. Dusty just smiled an I told you so smile in Kylie’s direction.

  “You’re too stressed out,” Kylie reasoned. “Calm down and take a second look. I really like the ones with the red rose on the front and the hearts with your names in them. They’re pretty.”

  Faye studied the sample Kylie pointed out, critically. “You think?”

  “I like the rose colored lining in the envelopes too.”

  “I never thought of having Rose as one of my colors.” She looked over at her husband-to-be. “What do you think?”

  “It’s a nice color,” Dusty said, resembling a deer in headlights. It was obvious he’d had enough battles over the wedding with Faye. He was treading lightly.

  “Look, I say we order these up. That’s one less thing you have to do. How about having the reception at the bar?”

  Faye looked skeptical. “All those people in there?”

  “Faye, you can extend things outside. The whole town is going to shut down for this anyway. You have plenty of room,” Kylie reasoned.

  “And I’m going to need it. If I get much bigger I won’t be able to fit into the dress I bought.”

  “You’ll fit fine. Just relax.” Kylie looked up at Dusty. “You need to take your wife-to-be out for a relaxing lunch.”

  “I’ve tried. She’s freaking out.”

  “I am not,” Faye snapped, glaring up at him.

  The phone rang, cutting their conversation off. Dusty answered it. His eyes narrowed and he hesitated before putting the person on hold. “It’s for you,” he directed at Kylie. “It’s some guy named Paul.”

  Kylie grimaced, wondering what in the world would make Paul call her out of the blue, after two months.

  “Tell him she’s moved to Russia,” Faye said.

  Dusty continued to look at Kylie, questioningly.

  “I’ll talk to him.” She got up and reached for the phone, fully intending to make this quick.

  “Paul,” she said, her voice low.

  “Well now, your voice is a sound for sore ears. Where in God’s name have you been?”

  “I’m in Arizona. My mother knows where.”

  “Yes, she told me.” Paul was quiet a moment. “I’ve been trying to call your house. I’ve left several messages.”

  “I’m not at home,” she reminded him, ignoring the looks of interest she was receiving from Faye and Dusty. And to make matters worse, the back door opened and Trey walked in. She hadn’t seen him since the Sunday night when he’d dropped her off. He’d been working. They’d talked briefly by phone and that was it. His eyes caught hers for a moment, before he turned to his brother.

  “Are you there?” Paul’s annoyed voice asked.

  “I’m here,” she said, wishing sh
e had taken the call on the extension in the den.

  “I want you to come home. I know you needed some time and I know I screwed things up with us, but I think they’re fixable.”

  “Now’s not a good time,” she said, turning away from the sound of the men talking.

  “Now’s the perfect time. It’s only July, Kylie. We can take a little vacation together and work this out. I thought maybe if we get some counseling it will help us with our little problem.”

  Little problem? That was a good way of putting it. Anger rose in her and she tried to tamp down on it. “This really isn’t a good time.”

  “You’re coming home, aren’t you? Because I have to say, running away from things hasn’t done us a bit of good, Kylie. That’s not a mature way to handle an adult relationship.”

  “And sleeping with another woman is?” The words came out before she could stop them and immediately, the voices in the kitchen died. She didn’t have to turn around to know that all eyes were on her.

  “That isn’t fair,” Paul said, oblivious to the audience Kylie had.

  “I have to go,” she finally said, for lack of anything better. “Don’t call here again.” She hung the phone up and turned around. She heard the back door slam and knew that Trey had gone outside. It was more than likely that he’d figured out who was on the other end of the phone.

  “What the hell did he want?” Faye asked, standing up from the mess of samples. “How dare he call here?”

  “Never mind,” Kylie said, walking past her and outside to the front porch. She looked around and sighed in relief when she saw that Trey’s police SUV was still parked in front of the house. So where was he?

  After a moment, she realized the guesthouse door was open. She headed down the steps and across the yard. The first thing she noticed when she crossed the threshold was that the place was bare. There were no pictures. There was no colorful paint on the wall. There were a few pieces of old brown furniture and a television set. Other than that, there was nothing.

  “I haven’t had much time to think about decorating.”

  His voice carried across the room and she looked to the kitchen, where he leaned against the doorway, his arms folded over his broad chest. Her heart stopped as she stared at him, intently. How could a man look so good in jeans and a T-shirt? And the gun was starting to grow on her. There was something masculine about him when he was working. Something almost….sexy.

 

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