by Lane Parker
Besides, any location was going to be a challenge since I didn’t own a vehicle.
I hopped out of Ben’s expensive car as soon as we’d arrived at Ian’s address.
“Wow,” I said out loud before I could check my response when Ben unlocked and opened the door of the guest residence.
The guest house was nothing short of stunning, but as I stood at the door Ben had opened, I could see it was decorated in more upbeat, beachier colors than his mother’s home.
The Blackwood mansion was elegant, but the heavier themes of gold and mahogany had been intimidating and showy.
Ian’s guest house was beautiful…but meant to be a relaxed decor.
I stepped into the kitchen, admiring the contemporary white shaker cabinets, and the stainless steel appliances. The granite was a lovely black and white that kept the room light and airy.
“Check out the bedrooms and see which one you want,” Ben requested as he came through the door with my suitcase.
“Okay,” I said. I stopped gawking at the light aqua walls of the kitchen and the living room to hurry down the hall and into the bedrooms.
All three of the bedrooms were masters with an en suite, but I was drawn to the happy, creamy yellow one with its own patio and an amazing view of the Gulf.
Ben hefted my suitcase onto a cozy armchair. “The place is kind of small,” he observed.
A laugh escaped from my lips. “This house is at least ten times the size of the apartment Mom and I had.”
I’d grown up in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in Fort Myers, with a kitchen so small that my mother and I couldn’t cook in the room at the same time.
The guest house looked like a palace to me.
“There’s a key to the main house in the kitchen if you start feeling claustrophobic. It opens the pool area and hot tub, too.”
I turned around to look at him. “I’m not exactly a guest, Ben. I’m pretty much a freeloader. So I don’t plan on using anything else except the house.”
He smiled. “Use the pool and the hot tub. It might help you chill out. Ian doesn’t mind. He told me to show you where the keys were, and the controller for the garage. He has a Jeep in the guest house garage, and it sits there unused unless he has a guest with no car. I’m pretty sure that’s never happened. But Ian covers all of his bases.”
“I can’t use his vehicle,” I protested.
“How do you plan on getting anywhere?” he asked. “We aren’t close to the grocery stores or anything else for that matter.”
I sighed, remembering that most of the area was residential, and Ian had a fairly big chunk of land. “You’re right. I might have to use it,” I agreed grudgingly, realizing that I was going to need a store, and to get around to secure a job.
“Unless you want your brother taking you to the store all the time,” he teased.
“No!” I said emphatically, not knowing whether I was reacting to the brother part of his comment, or the idea of him having to drive over from his place on Fort Myer’s Beach just because I needed coffee. “I’ll be fine.”
“I have to go to a meeting, but I’ll check on you when I’m done,” Ben said.
“I’ve been alone most of my life,” I explained. “You don’t have to run back over here again. I grew up in Fort Myers, and I know my way around the island.”
Even when I’d had my mom, I hadn’t seen her that often. She had worked hard to make sure we could cover our expenses, and as soon as I’d hit sixteen, I’d gotten a job at the local market bagging groceries for my last two years of high school. I was used to fending for myself.
Ben frowned, which was an unusual expression for him. “You’re going through a lot of changes. I want to help you.”
My heart clenched. Even after knowing my father, Ben was still kind to me. “You have helped me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he acknowledged. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
I opened my mouth to tell him he could just call me, but I closed it again. “I can make dinner,” I offered. I might not have a lot of money, but I could cook.
“No way am I going to refuse a home-cooked dinner,” he agreed enthusiastically. “I’m not much of a cook.”
Ben left after he showed me where the keys and the garage door opener were located, and I was both relieved and lonely after he’d gone.
Chapter 6
Kate
“Ben Blackwood is hot,” Ariel considered as she sat at the kitchen table of my temporary housing drinking her latte, and popping chocolate covered caramels into her mouth.
I looked at her from my seat across the table. My best friend Ariel was everything I was not, and maybe we shouldn’t have ever been friends because we were so different, but for some reason, we’d connected in grade school and had been close ever since.
Ariel was graceful, a beautiful blonde with ocean-blue eyes, delicate features and a slim, perfectly toned body. She’d been a ballet dancer almost all her life. Even during grade school, she’d lived to dance.
Unfortunately, an injury had just ended Ariel’s career, and she’d returned to Fort Myers from New York City several months ago to get her head together.
I hurt so badly for her. Ariel had dreamed of being a ballerina all her life. And that goal she’d worked so hard for was now crushed.
Her spirit seemed broken now.
Ariel had called soon after Ben had left, and I’d invited her to drop over. She’d offered to pick me up some groceries, items I’d paid her for as soon as she’d arrived. I’d been grateful. Probably the less I drove a car that wasn’t mine the better.
Since Ben had texted that he’d be later than expected, I had plenty of time to cook dinner.
I snatched another candy out of the bag that Ariel had brought and devoured it in one swallow. Not only had my best friend stopped at the grocery store, but she’d come with a bag of specialty candy and lattes that she’d purchased from our favorite candy store in Fort Myers.
Years ago, Ariel wouldn’t eat more than one piece of the chocolate. Even as a child, she’d had to watch her diet. So it was a surprise to see her chowing down on the bag of sweets with me.
“Ben is really attractive,” I finally agreed. “But he’s my stepbrother, and let’s face it, a woman like me doesn’t even dream about a gorgeous billionaire like Ben Blackwood. I think he’s feeling sorry for me because I lost my father.”
Ariel frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Katie. You’re adorable, you’re smart, and any guy would have to be crazy not to want to be with you.”
I pulled a face. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Ariel, I screwed a total stranger and let him take my V-card just because it felt good. What kind of woman does that make me?” I’d filled my friend in on some of the crazy things that had happened over the last few days.
“A smart one?” she guessed with a smile. “Because really, who wants to lose her virginity when it doesn’t feel good?”
I ignored her levity. “And let’s not forget I have a genuine stalker.”
“Now that’s a real mystery,” Ariel said excitedly.
“A scary one,” I agreed.
She took a sip of her latte before saying, “Honestly, if whoever it is wanted to hurt you, don’t you think they would have done it years ago? It’s not like they’ve actually shown up at your door.”
Admittedly, I might have overreacted with Stalker. “I guess the realization that it wasn’t my father just hit me at the wrong time. I’ve been trying to figure out who else it could be. I got the phone as a gift here, before I left Florida.”
“Well, you can count me out,” Ariel said dryly. “I had your phone number if I wanted to call you. What about Doug?”
I stopped eating candy for a minute, long enough to give my friend a confused look. “Who?”
“That guy from the grocery store who liked you back in high school?”
It took me a moment, but I
realized who Ariel was talking about. Doug had been a co-worker of mine, and we’d both graduated from the same high school. Other than that, I’d barely known him. “He didn’t like me. We just worked in the same place.”
Ariel rolled her eyes. “He had a crush on you, Katie. I saw the way he looked at you.”
Most likely, Doug had been trying to figure out how he could get me to help him with his science class since we’d been lab partners for a while. “It’s not him,” I answered.
“Then maybe it’s really Ben,” Ariel suggested. “Did you ever think that Stalker and your mysterious virginity taker could be the same person?”
I hadn’t connected the two because, until yesterday, I’d thought that Stalker was my father doing occasional checks on my welfare in college. “No,” I answered. “I thought Stalker was my dad.”
“Well maybe you should think about it,” Ariel said. “And since your stalker has never really approached you, maybe you should try to pry some information out of him. You can only talk to somebody so long without making a mistake and telling the other person something about your personal life.”
I shrugged. “I don’t even know if it’s a male or female.”
“Then just ask. What does it matter if you text as long as you don’t sext. This person has obviously known where you were for years. I think they’re telling the truth. I don’t think the mystery person means you any harm. If they had wanted to find you, they would have by now.”
I shrugged. “I was a little freaked out when I saw a text after the funeral.”
Ariel nodded. “Understandable since you thought your stalker was your dead father. It would have creeped me out, too. I’m so sorry, Katie. I wish you could have finished school before something happened.”
“It’s not just school,” I confessed. “My father was my last living relative, and now he’s dead. I guess I’m just feeling…lost.”
“I get that,” Ariel said gently. “But Katie, he was never a father to you.”
“I know. I’ve told myself that a million times, but everything just seems so final. I can’t say that I loved him. I think I’m just aware that the possibility of ever having anyone is gone now.” Realistically, the possibility of my father ever changing and deciding he wanted to know his only daughter had been pretty slim anyway.
Ariel rose to her feet and came around the table to hug me. I got up and threw my arms around her, relishing the sensation of being surrounded by love and empathy for a moment.
As I finally let go of my best friend, I asked, “What about you? How are things going?”
She looked at me, her eyes suddenly growing haunted. “I’m okay. It’s going to take a while for me to deal with the fact that my dream is no longer a possibility.”
“Then you’ll find a new one,” I told her. “You put your heart into dancing for so long that you’ve just never had time to find other things you want to do with your life.”
My heart was breaking for my beautiful friend. My dreams were still reachable with hard work.
Hers were completely gone.
She nodded. “I know. And I’ve always known that my career in ballet wasn’t going to last forever. We ballerinas have a short shelf life,” she joked. “But I had hoped I could leave my company with a long career under my belt. Maybe become a teacher or a choreographer.”
I watched as Ariel picked up her purse from the table and put it across her body, wishing that I could help her somehow.
She turned around with a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s do breakfast tomorrow, and then I can head to work and you can start your job search.”
We made arrangements to meet in a diner early the next morning, and Ariel left.
I closed the door behind her, and walked into the kitchen. After sitting down in the same chair I’d just left a few minutes ago, I picked up my cell phone from the table.
As I scrolled through my conversations with Stalker, I realized how very benign and brief our communications had always been.
“Who are you?” I whispered. “And what do you want?”
Stalker had never asked for anything except an answer to whether or not I was doing okay.
Before I lost my nerve, I typed:
Katie: If you aren’t my father, then who are you?
My heart tripped as I saw the message go from delivered to read, and the little dots started to move across the bottom of the screen.
He’d looked at the question immediately, and he was answering.
Stalker: I already told you. I’m just somebody who cares. I never meant to scare you or make you upset.
Katie: I have no family anymore, so I take it you’re saying you’re a friend?
Stalker: Yes. I hope so.
Katie: Do you know how totally weird this is? You obviously know who I am, but I don’t even know if you’re male or female. You’re a stranger to me.
Stalker: Maybe I always hoped that someday we would get to know each other.
Katie: Why?
There was a hesitation before he answered.
Stalker: I admire you. I always have. And I’m a male. I’ll tell you that much if it makes you feel better.
Katie: Honestly, I’m not sure it makes me feel better.
If my mystery texts were really coming from a guy, then he actually was a stalker, albeit a pretty laid back one. There had been times when I’d only had one line from him in a period of several months.
Stalker: What are you doing right now?
Katie: Sitting at the kitchen table of a loaner house eating chocolates and drinking a latte. You?
I wasn’t sure why I’d answered his question, but at least he hadn’t asked what I was wearing or if I was naked.
Stalker: Just finished a very long, very boring meeting. I have to find some dinner. Did you eat?
Katie: I’m cooking for a friend.
There was a long pause, and I wondered if he was with somebody.
Stalker: Male or female friend?
Katie: Male.
Stalker: Boyfriend?
Katie: Unfortunately, he’s not. He’s actually my stepbrother.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that my stalker was just out of a meeting, and Ben had claimed to be attending one around this time. Could Ariel be right? Could the person I’m talking to actually be Ben?
Really, the possibility of my stalker being Ben Blackwood was ridiculously slim. He had no reason to hide his identity, and if he’d wanted to find me, he could have. Ben hadn’t had a problem tracking me down to let me know about my father’s death.
Still, I could hope….
Stalker: I’d like to be your friend, Kate. I want you to trust me.
Katie: Not telling me who you are isn’t exactly a great way to inspire trust.
Stalker: I know.
I stared at the exchange for a moment, until I finally figured out what felt off.
My stalker had called me Kate. Nobody called me Kate except…
Katie: Were you in the boathouse last night?
He was either going to be completely baffled about my question or…
Stalker: Yes.
My hands were shaking as I put the phone back down on the table and stood up, my mind whirling as I tried to understand exactly what that single-word answer really meant.
After a moment of trying to get my head together, I realized the answer was really very simple.
Maybe I couldn’t even begin to contemplate why this crazy shit was happening to me.
Maybe I didn’t get why this man had to be in the shadows.
Maybe I had no idea who this person was, or why he was interested in me.
All I really knew for sure was that Ariel had been right.
My stalker and the man who had rocked my world in the boathouse when he’d taken my virginity are one and the same.
~End of Part 1~
Continue reading for a sneak peek at Dearest Stalker Part 2
Prologue
St
alker
I never should have fucking touched her.
I hated myself for putting my hands on Kate, but disliking the man I was had pretty much become normal for me, and had been ever since the day I’d killed the person I’d loved more than anybody else in the world.
Every day was painful, but I’d made it worse by fucking a woman I could never have. A female who was way too good for me, and always would be.
I leaned back against the shower tile, letting the water course over my body.
Being with Kate had turned my world upside down. Like it hadn’t already been bad enough?
And Kate? Fuck! She deserved a hell of a lot more than a broken man who had to function like a regular person on the outside while I was everything but normal on the inside.
“Kate,” I said aloud in a voice I hardly recognized. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Of course I couldn’t conjure her image without my cock being painfully hard.
I wrapped my hand around the shaft, getting ready to get myself off in the shower like I’d done every single day since I’d taken her virginity in a goddamn boathouse.
She deserved flowers, romance, understanding and tenderness.
I’d given her a hard screw in a dark, barren place where people stowed away their boat and fishing gear.
What in the hell had I been thinking?
Problem was, I hadn’t really been thinking.
I’d seen her fighting her way out of the reception, and that distraught look on her face had slammed me in the gut so hard that I’d followed her.
Her sobs of grief, fear and confusion had torn out what was left of my heart.
I’d needed to make her see that she was going to be okay. I’d had to comfort her.
Instead, I’d ended up fucking her because I didn’t have any real compassion to give. All I could really do was make her feel good. It was all I knew.
I’d known I was fucked the minute I had her curvy body in my grasp. I wasn’t able to let her go after that. I hadn’t been capable of it. She’d felt too damn good, and I’d experienced nothing like Kate Riley in my entire life, and most certainly not in the last several years.