Mistake (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  Once again, Jenna was silent during the entire drive to his home. Bryce watched for a tail and mentally sorted through the contents of his fridge and cupboards. He was taking a week off work to start, in order to make it appear as though he and Jenna were taking a staycation, and he realized there was a slight flaw in the plan. He would have to arrange for some groceries to be delivered, because they weren’t setting foot outside his house until the asshole was caught.

  His cell signalled. Darren called to let him know he’d arranged for all the necessary surveillance and their captain had signed off on it. Some of it would be provided by officers at work, but the majority by off-duty cops, filling in just like Michelle did. There would be someone there now, and he wondered if he’d spot them.

  As he pulled up to his home a delivery man sauntered down his steps and sketched a wave. It was Sanderson, looking quite comfortable in a postal uniform. Bryce knew his security system hadn’t been breached, or the other man would have reacted in a very different way. So far so good. Michelle kept right on driving by, and Sanderson climbed into one of those little vans used by so many delivery services. Jenna relaxed beside him when the van started up but idled at the curb.

  “Let’s get inside. I have a man on the street right now and everything is under control for now.”

  Nodding, she quickly unfastened her seat belt and snatched up her purse. Bryce exited the vehicle and went around to open her door. They picked up the luggage in reverse order and went into the house. Bryce quickly reinstated the alarm.

  “The delivery guy, right?”

  “Yes.” He carried her cases toward his bedroom.

  “Bryce.”

  Tossing his answer over his shoulder, he kept walking. “What?”

  “Don’t you have a spare room?”

  “I do, but the futon isn’t comfortable.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “Sweetheart, I’m not negotiating this. Your ex might come snooping around, and it’ll fuck up the plan if he sees you and me sleeping separately.”

  “We’ll close the blinds.” She was hard on his heels as he set her luggage by the bed.

  Pushing into her space, he backed her up against the wall and set a hand on either side of her face. He leaned in and locked eyes with her. “I can’t protect you if you aren’t close, Jenna. Suck it up.”

  Eyes glowing with anger, mouth mutinous, she glared at him then made a little shrug. “Your bed is big enough. Just know you don’t touch me. This whole thing is hard to cope with as it is, and there aren’t going to be any more misunderstandings.”

  Keeping her gaze, Bryce said, “That was my fault, Jenna. I own it. I wasn’t up front with you. But—”

  “No. Please. Just back off.” Her voice was thin with distress and he reluctantly let her go.

  “I don’t have much in the house but let’s cobble together a meal. I want to talk about your ex.”

  Jenna walked past him and he noticed how she took great pains not to touch him in any way with any part of her body. “I’m not repeating what you read in the file, Bryce. Spare me that nightmare. If there’s something that will help you catch Jason, sure, but I don’t owe you my memories.”

  Well, that put it out there. Jenna wasn’t inclined to give him a second chance, and considering her past experience with men, Bryce figured his uphill battle just got steeper. He caught her arm and hauled her back to face him. “Then maybe I’ll share with you and you won’t feel at such a disadvantage.”

  “No. I heard about your broken engagement with Valerie. That’s your business, and I don’t want to know.”

  A punch to the gut wouldn’t have taken his breath like her comment did. Goddamn Karen. And goddamn Darren for probably telling her more than she’d have normally known, although from her comment she didn’t know all of it. “My experience with Valerie soured my outlook on any deep relationships with women.”

  Jenna’s tiny shudder barely registered. Bryce was too astonished by his own succinct description of something that plagued his life for years. He’d never said anything out loud to anyone before. If that didn’t tell him something about how he felt about Jenna then nothing would.

  “I’m sorry, Bryce. I am. It had to have been bad because you, well, you are a pretty good guy and I don’t think you’ve treated the other women you uh, date, badly. I got ahead of myself when I knew better—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Jenna! I told you! It’s on me. I was blind about where things were going for the first time since Valerie, and I’m sorry I hurt you. If I could I’d go back and respond very differently.”

  “Stop. You need to stop,” she nearly whispered. “I can’t help you. I can’t. I can’t save myself. You have no idea what made me the way I am.”

  “Maybe we can save each other.”

  Moisture glinted in her eyes and her lashes fluttered as she blinked the tears back. “I can’t.”

  Bryce relented and once again let her go. She did her robotic walk into his kitchen and he watched her busy herself with looking in the fridge and checking the pantry.

  * * * *

  “That was great, Jenna. Thanks.” Bryce crumpled his napkin and set it on top of his empty plate. The meatloaf had been moist and flavored with some kind of spice he didn’t know he had in his kitchen, the mashed potatoes whipped within an inch of their lives. Even the mixed vegetables tasted good, not mushy like they turned out when he cooked them. She’d also concocted a mushroom gravy from a package buried deep in his pantry, a hold out from when his mother had visited, no doubt.

  “You’re welcome.” She hadn’t made anything other than desultory conversation during the meal and he had allowed her the space, believing she was still overwhelmed by the day’s events. However, he was determined to use her state of mind to his advantage as well. He was already a dick in her eyes so there was nothing more he could do to make it worse, and he might gain some ground instead. Jenna wasn’t immune to him, despite how he’d hurt her. He could read the signs of attraction, of arousal, and their chemistry was evident no matter the circumstances.

  “I’ll help you with clean up.”

  He was rewarded with a faint lift at the corners of her lush mouth.

  “What?” He wanted to make her really smile.

  “That’s something I didn’t know about you, that you’re domesticated.”

  Silence ensued. Jenna was clearly regretting her comment, her lips set tightly and her eyes downcast against the implied intimacy. Bryce had flashed back to his time with Valerie. He noted that it didn’t cut to the point of freezing him.

  “I wasn’t really domesticated. It was more that she wasn’t. Valerie. We were together—”

  Jenna was up from the table, snatching up her plate and cutlery, fumbling in her haste. He continued to talk to her back, following with his dishes. As he set them in the sink he could hear her halting breaths.

  “We met in high school. I was a couple years older and when Valerie transferred in I fell hard. She was tiny and beautiful, vivacious. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to—”

  “Bryce. Stop. Stop.” She turned to him and he saw the pain in her eyes.

  “You need to hear this, Jenna.”

  Shoving away from the counter she stood tall and defied him. “Why? To assuage your conscience—explain to me why you blew me off? You think it’ll make it better?”

  He shook his head and kept his eyes locked on hers. “No. I’m telling you because I want you to know about me. I want the only woman I’ve been with since Valerie for longer than a few hours of sex to know something personal about me. I want to share things with you, Jenna, and fuck me, that’s like a girl thing, but I want to do it. Because you are different. And special.”

  “You have no idea how different I am, buddy.” Her bitter response shut him up. “You need to find a therapist or somebody and deal. I told you I don’t want to know. I have enough things in my head without hearing your shit.”

  “She dest
royed me and I allowed it.”

  With an exasperated sigh that didn’t match the tears now standing in her eyes, Jenna threw up her hands. “I’m going to clean up and then take a bath. I’m exhausted.”

  “Go, then. I’ll clean up and we’ll talk more later.”

  Nearly fleeing in her haste to get away from him, Jenna exited the kitchen. Bryce watched her ass and tried not to think carnal thoughts. They’d done pretty much everything else on his fantasy list and it spoke to her appeal that he hadn’t yet broached the subject with her, fulfilled by what they had. He knew he was reacting to the risk posed to her, the dominant, possessive side of him newly awoken, wanting to claim Jenna in the most intimate way possible. The enormity of what he was embarking on stretched out ahead of him and for the first time he welcomed it. It was like being cleansed. He had no doubt it was going to hurt like all the furies of hell, but no pain, no gain.

  * * * *

  Lowering herself into the steaming water perfumed with her favorite bath salts, Jenna inhaled the spicy scent and nearly groaned as the heat of the bath enclosed her. She wasn’t going to think, just take the time to soak and let her head drift. But of course her mind picked over the things Bryce attempted to share with her. Whatever happened with Valerie had obviously scarred him deep, and from the hints Karen had given her Jenna suspected it was more what this Valerie had done to Bryce. She couldn’t let her imagination run wild. Better she heard him out. No.

  She wasn’t lying to Bryce when she told him she couldn’t deal with any more shit. And she suspected he was taking advantage of how off-balance she was to make his move. Get his second chance. And damn her, she wanted to give it to him. But the smart move, smart being the operative word, meant she needed to stand firm. Somehow. So she turned her thoughts to Jason.

  Jenna had grown up in a household run by two functioning alcoholics, functioning in the sense that her parents went to work, made the necessary appearances in public to fool the masses, and turned their home into a battlefield for Jenna and her sister. Rebecca probably had it a bit easier in some regard, being the oldest by six years, and presumably getting more attention because mom and dad had a little more energy to spare from their alcohol consumption and single-minded fierce fighting.

  Although that was debatable because Rebecca came in for more punishment, too. Jenna got cuffed around some, but was primarily neglected—physically and mentally. Her sister loved her, after a fashion, and given the age difference sometimes played the role of surrogate mother. Still, there was never enough to eat—unless you wanted a beer for dinner. Her clothes never fit and, until she learned how to use the laundry facilities, weren’t very clean. Rebecca made her bathe and wash her hair so she wasn’t a social outcast because of cleanliness issues. No, Jenna lived on the periphery because she had no idea how to relate unless people were fighting. When Rebecca moved out, marrying a medical rep she’d met through her job in the hospital kitchen, Jenna was initially lost. Especially when Becky moved clear across the country and never came back, not even to visit.

  She’d been a bright child, learning easily, with a mind like a steel trap. Spending as much time at school as she could, she soaked up learning, despite the failure of her parents to feed her brain with adequate food, and books saved her. Jenna taught herself how to act and live from books. It was too bad her ideas of romance and love were so overshadowed by the realities of her home life—she chose men like her dad, or worse, like her mother. Without Becky around to talk to, Jenna had many uncertainties. Jason seemed so different, so like the men in her books, that she threw caution to the winds, desperate to have an actual connection.

  Sex was never the issue. Jenna liked sex and got good at it in all its various forms, taking her pleasure and giving it, but inherently knew it was missing something. She thought she’d found that something with Jason, and there’d been some hint of it even when he slipped further into madness. And then she thought she’d found it with Bryce, only to realize how she’d blinded herself with desperation once again. Her eyes squeezed tight against the pain of stupidity.

  “Sweetheart?”

  Holy shit. The man was in the bathroom with her! Jenna struggled to sit upright in the tub, raising her knees to shield her, wrapping her arms around them.

  “Why are you in here?” Her voice cracked with her indignation.

  “I want to go over the game plan with you.”

  “And it couldn’t wait until I got out of the bath?”

  “You’ve been in here over a half hour, Jenna. And you didn’t answer when I knocked.”

  Off in her head again. Retreating. Just like when she was a kid. The water was still warm, testament to the quality of the tub, but her fingertips were pruned. Jenna made herself nod. “Okay. I’ll get out—”

  Bryce wrapped a hand around her forearm and levered her to a standing position in the tub, then reached for a big towel, wrapping it around her before leaning to help her out. Jenna tried to set her feet in a stupid effort to resist and slipped against his hold. He immediately grasped her waist to pull her against his chest, lifting her from the water with ease.

  They stood, close together on the bath mat and Jenna fought the urge to sag against him, just let him take care of her. She was so tired. Instead she summoned up a bit of annoyance.

  “You need to give me my space.” It sounded flat, even to her ears.

  “Jenna.” Bryce’s voice gentled and his arms tightened around her. His head dipped and his mouth found hers. Such a sweet, seductive kiss. She felt herself softening…and his cell rang.

  “Fuck.” He didn’t release her, merely shuffled her into his side while he used one hand to free his phone.

  “Meadows. Okay. I’ll button things down for the night.”

  Jenna tried to ease away, foiled by the way his arm flexed to hold her in place. She could scent his woodsy cologne and the smell that was pure Bryce. Despite her tiredness, certain parts of her body pulsed with new energy. She was definitely a slut. Didn’t her body know she was in mortal danger? And not just from Jason.

  Bryce clicked off and looked at her, his eyes wary. This time he let her go.

  “What?”

  “Your ex was spotted around Judith’s place—”

  “Oh god. No.” Jenna ran into the bedroom and scrabbled in her purse for her phone. Sure enough there was a text from Judith. Your asshole ex cruising. No prob. Do NOT worry. Xo. Jenna punched in her friend’s number but her call went to voice mail.

  “Call me, Jude. Please.”

  Turning to Bryce she asked, “What about Carla?”

  “Staying with Judith tonight. It’s okay, Jenna.” He was in her space again, clearly regretting letting her out of his embrace. She retreated until she backed into the bed, wavering off balance, the towel slipping. Bryce’s eyes dropped to her bared breasts before she yanked the fabric back up to cover herself. “A unit patrolled the neighborhood, routine-like, and he took off. Now we know what he’s driving.”

  She nodded but wasn’t entirely convinced. As if on cue, her phone rang. Judith. Her friend assured her all was well, and to Jenna’s chagrin, Jude sounded like she was enjoying the drama. Opening her mouth to challenge that perception, she just as quickly shut it—Judith and Carla weren’t stupid, and being scared out one’s mind might make one immobilized. Instead she urged them to be safe and threw the cell back at her purse. It clattered beside it, across the bedside table, and her eyes followed it, anything not to look at Bryce.

  “Get ready for bed, Jenna. Wear something that’ll allow you to pull some jeans on, and a shirt. Socks if it’ll mean your shoes will be more comfortable.” His words drifted into her brain, murmured against her ear.

  Nodding, she inched along the side of the mattress, noting that he didn’t back away to give her room, and went to her suitcase. She fished a pair of pajama bottoms out and located a loose fitting sleep tee. No socks. It was a small rebellion and probably stupid, but she wasn’t letting him tell her what to do. She
understood he wanted her to be able to get dressed and get out of the house if it was required, and on that thought plucked fresh underwear from the case.

  She turned to go to the bathroom to change in private, but Bryce was gone, moving silently for such a big man. Jenna hastily donned her clothes and went to hang the towel up. She pulled the plug on the tub and brushed her teeth while the water drained. Knowing she was stalling, putting off the time when she would be in that bed with Bryce again, this time under far different circumstances, Jenna swallowed a tiny whimper on a sob. She could do this.

  The rest of the house was dark as she emerged from the bathroom, no light evident beyond the bedroom door. The little lamp on what she’d considered her side of the bed was the only illumination. Bryce stood on the opposite side, pulling his T-shirt over his head. Jenna averted her eyes from his cut chest and abdomen and scurried to slip under the covers, giving him her back. She heard the purr of his zipper and the thump of his belt buckle as it hit the floor, the sound somewhat muffled by the material of his pants. Her imagination caught fire and she shut it down.

  Water ran in the bathroom and the toilet flushed, then the mattress dipped when Bryce climbed in. She could immediately feel his warmth despite the distance between them and she bit her lip, hard, willing back the urge to roll into his arms. Just for the comfort. Not for anything else. Right.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart.” Nothing more. She told herself she felt enormously relieved.

  “Goodnight.” There. That was formal and didn’t reflect the ridiculous nature of being in the bed of a man she’d fucked every which way but Sunday, and they would have come to that, too, if he hadn’t kicked her to the curb. And on that thought, Jenna slid a hand out to flick off the little lamp, plunging the room into darkness, the only light being the faint illumination from the street above the rail holding the blinds.