Accidental Secrets: A totally gripping, steamy, sexy contemporary romance (Accidental Love Book 3)
Page 14
I flip the page and look at the date of the next letter. It was over two years later. “When I said skittish, I didn’t mean in this way. She wasn’t physically shy of me. Hopefully, that means she wasn’t raped.”
“Or it means she trusts you even when she hasn’t seen you in years.”
“I need to see her.” I can’t fucking pretend this isn’t agonizing for me—I can’t pretend my feelings for Rachel are only about our daughter. “Fuck, Diana, what should I do?”
Diana tilts back in her chair and says, “Go find her and make her talk to you. She owes you that.”
“She owes me time with my daughter, she doesn’t owe me anything else.”
“Mikey, if you still have feelings for her, you need to work through that—and you need to let her know. She’s not going to make the first move, not after what she’s done. She has to assume you don’t want a romantic relationship with her.”
I run my hands through my hair and say, “I’m not totally sure what I want with her… I know I love her but… I love the girl I knew in school, not the woman who’s hidden my daughter from me for all this time.”
“They’re the same person.” She takes the journal from me and says, “You need to reconcile that in your head before you do anything else. You can’t love her and hold a grudge.”
“I don’t want to hold a grudge at all. Love or not.”
“Mike, go see her. Make her talk to you. Really talk. You’ve put it off for too long. Haven’t you lost enough time with her and Raegan?”
It’s true. I’ve not only missed all these years with my daughter, but I’ve also missed all these years with the woman I once loved more than anything else in life. Even though I was a kid, she was my world. She hasn’t been a part of my world for a long time but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving her. Knowing we have a child together has only increased that love. I rub at my chest, trying to ease my aching heart. I want her, and I’m not even sure why I told Diana that I didn’t know what I want. I do know. I want Rachel to want me too.
Diana crosses her arms over her chest and says, “Maybe she’s scared. I can’t blame her. After reading some of these letters, I don’t think it’d be a reach to say it’s probably been a while since she’s experienced any kind of functional adult relationship. Maybe she doesn’t have much experience with men.”
My stomach turns just thinking about her with another man. I stare at Diana, not sure how to ask what I want to ask, but finally, I blurt it out. “Am I stupid for still having feelings for her? Is this toxic?”
“Maybe. But we can’t help who we fall in love with. Right?”
I press my lips together and nod my head. “I feel like an idiot for wanting this after what she’s done, but I can’t help how I feel.”
“That’s your answer. You can’t help how you feel. I’d like to give you shit and tell you you’re a pansy—tell you you’re a sucker for wanting her after she hurt you so badly, but I can’t. I think it takes courage to move past what you’ve both been through.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely. I think it takes a hell of a lot of backbone to put yourself in the line of fire when you’ve already taken a hit.” She shrugs and says, “That being said, I’m not sure how much courage she has. You might have to do all of the fighting on your own.” She taps the journal and says, “This girl is exhausted. I don’t know if she has any fight left in her.”
“I need her to show me she wants this too. I can’t be the only one putting it all out there.”
“You’re missing a very fundamental fact about her—and this is never going to work if you don’t try to understand it.”
“Understand what, Diana?” I lift my arms in a sarcastic shrug. “If you’re so smart, tell me what I’m missing.”
“Essentially, Rachel is a long-term abuse victim. Think about it, Mike,” she says, ticking marks off with her fingers. “She’s overloaded with guilt, she’s lonely, she’s withdrawn, and she’s afraid. She’s a victim. She’s forgotten how to fight. Her spirit was broken a long time ago, I’m not sure she’ll ever be who she was before she got pregnant. Jesus, she probably doesn’t even think she’s worthy of love—much less love from you.”
I think of the strong, beautiful woman I saw at the hotel, a single mother in a position of real responsibility, and that image doesn’t jive with what Diana is saying. Even as upset as Rachel was on Monday, she still held her ground. She still told me what she needed to tell me and then she stood ready to defend herself if she needed to.
“She doesn’t seem mentally unstable. You’re making this sound really bad.”
“No, it’s just…” She drops her head back on her shoulders. “So hard to explain to a man.”
“I’m not dense, you know. I can understand complex problems.”
She laughs and says, “That’s not what I mean. Women regularly deal with shit like this. We’re constantly dodging abuse in one form or another. We’re fucking experts at walking through life seemingly untouched by our environment. We smile through the pain and keep moving forward even when things seem impossible. Whether our bosses are trying to grab our asses or our fathers are treating us like we’re idiots because we’re just girls, or whether we’re pretty enough—but not so pretty that we become targets for assault.” As Diana talks, she grows more agitated and her voice is raising. “Rachel’s become an expert at it, especially since her mother raised her to believe she is just a girl. Telling her shit like ‘don’t get fat because you’ll never find a husband’ instead of teaching her to be an independent woman who doesn’t need a man to be happy.”
“Did you feel that way… about Dad? Have I ever made you feel like that?”
She shakes her head. “No, you haven’t, but Mom and Dad have. Why do you think they were so pissed when I got pregnant? How was I ever going to find a man as a single mom? As if I couldn’t possibly handle having a child on my own without the support of a man.”
“You’re great at it though… even as unplanned as it was.”
She smiles and whispers, “Thank you. It’s good to hear that once in a while.”
“I mean it. I’m not saying that to make you feel better.” I glance at my watch and say, “Would you get pissed if I left you here alone for a while?”
She grins and says, “You do realize it’s after midnight? She’s probably in bed.”
“I don’t mind waking her up.”
She waves toward the door. “I’m going to bed, so, by all means, go work out your shit, and do it quickly. I want to meet Raegan.”
It’s late, but I want to see them—even if it means getting them out of bed in the middle of the night. I give my sister a big hug and thank her for the talk, then I rush out the door with absolutely no plan.
Twenty-Seven
Rachel
“What the hell is that?” I grumble, throwing my robe on. I trip in the dark and stumble around for a second before clicking my bedside lamp on. Then I hear the doorbell again. I glance at the clock as I head toward the door. Jesus! My thoughts immediately go to Raegan—something must have happened.
When I get to the door, I see the porch is lit up because of the motion sensor light. I peek out the peephole and see Mike standing out there, his eyes on the door. As if he knows I’m looking at him, he says, “It’s just me. Open up.”
I punch in the code to turn the alarm off then swing the door open. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”
“No, everything’s fine, but I want to talk,” he says as he steps inside.
He rushes past me before I’ve registered what he said. Not only am I half asleep, but I’m struck dumb by how beautiful he is. Dressed in all black, his hair styled into a neat faux hawk, he’s the most glorious thing I’ve ever seen… and he’s standing in my living room.
I’m trying to wake up. Get my damn wits about me. “I’m sorry?” I say, still a little stunned by his presence in my home, and my heart is still racing from waking so abruptly.
“She’s not here. She’s spending the night with her friend Maisie. How did you find me?”
“You sent me the journals and your return address was on the package.”
I shake my head. “Right, sorry, I’m still half asleep.”
“Are you awake enough to talk? There’re so many things we need to clear the air about—and it’s probably a good thing that Raegan isn’t here.” He’s looking around, his eyes drifting from one thing to another, trying to make things out in the dark. I reach over and click the lamp on, making him squint. Even as distracted as he is, he keeps talking as if he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Because, after a long talk with my sister, I’ve decided clearing the air is definitely something we need to do.” He points to a photo on the mantle and says, “Where was this taken?”
I peek around him to see which photo he’s talking about. “That was taken on a hike with Rae. We were in the Santa Cruz Mountains.” I quickly scan the room to make sure it’s tidy enough. I wasn’t exactly expecting company. Thankfully, everything’s in its place. “I’m sorry, but what do you want to talk about in the middle of the night?”
He glances at me over his shoulder. “Rae? Is that what you call her?”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
He points to the photo again. “I used to live there,” he says, ignoring my question. He moves onto the next photo. “Give me a tour. I want to see your space.”
“Um, okay. This is the living room.” I lift my arms to indicate the room we’re standing in. “You used to live in the Santa Cruz Mountains?”
He wanders over to the bookcase and examines the rows of books and then the photos propped on top, spending time on each one. “No, Santa Cruz. That’s where I trained to be a CrossFit coach.”
“Oh, okay.” I follow him as he heads into the dining room and I realize I’m not so much giving him a tour but following him around. “Dining room,” I say, clicking the light on. “Not much to see here.”
“Do you ever sit in here?”
The question almost makes me laugh. The dining room table seats six, and as I answer his question, I realize the entire room is a little ridiculous for a family of two. “No, never. We eat in the kitchen.” As I say this, Mike turns to look at me. I’m not sure what prompted it, maybe my chuckle at his question, but he looks me up and down. That’s when I realize I’m wearing a very thin nightdress and my short robe is thrown over it haphazardly. I glance down at myself and close the robe before tying it tightly. His gaze lingers for a long moment, then he heads into the kitchen.
“Wow, great space. I bet it gets great light. You’ve recently had it remodeled?”
“Yeah, last year.”
He stops and looks over the photos on the fridge. “It’s funny… when I met Raegan, I didn’t see the resemblance, but now it’s hard to miss. She actually looks a lot like Olivia.”
“When you met Raegan…? But you haven’t met her.”
“I have. I didn’t realize who she was until I started reading your letters. She’s been visiting the gym. I even received a few emails from her. Last week, she brought me a consent form to join the gym. Who’s Mitchell Crawford?”
Now fully awake, I try to take in what he’s telling me and I’m so stunned my heart is lodged in my throat. “Mitchell is my uncle.”
As if sensing my confusion, he says, “Raegan wanted to join the gym. Rachel, she’s been coming around for a couple of weeks. She hangs out, even helped me and my partner Gavin paint one day.”
“Join the gym? How was she going to do that without telling me?”
“For starters, she got the form signed by your uncle. She also told me she didn’t think her mom would pay the dues, but I wasn’t worried about that. I told her if she helped me out with some things, I’d waive the fee.”
“You said she’s emailed you?” I clear my throat, and feel the blood drain from my face at the thought of Raegan doing this without telling me. “How? I mean, what has she said?”
Mike takes out his phone and brings up an email. “I thought it was a joke. I thought one of my friends was playing a prank on me. I didn’t make the connection until after I left the hotel on Monday.” He scrolls over the email chain and says, “Looking at it now, I can see that she stopped emailing me when she started coming to the gym… at least until Monday.” He stops on the last email in the chain. “Look at the last email. She’s the reason I texted on Monday night to check on you.”
I read it and instantly choke up. “She’s been worried about me since I came home upset. Considering she’s barely spoken to me in the last two weeks, I was happy to get the attention.”
“Why wasn’t she speaking to you?”
“One day, out of the blue, she asked about you.” I lower my eyes, now ashamed of my reaction to Raegan on that day. “I told her to leave it alone. It’d been so long… I tried before to find you with no luck. I didn’t think trying to find you again was a good idea. I was afraid you’d reject her, and I didn’t want her to get hurt.”
“Why would you think that?” He steps toward me, eyes blazing. “Why would I reject her?”
“Mike, I didn’t know. When she brought it up, I wasn’t prepared to answer questions about you. I didn’t know where you were, I didn’t know if you were single or married, I didn’t know if you had other children, I didn’t know how you felt about me after the way I left. I had no idea, and I was trying to—I don’t know—be realistic about your reaction… and I needed to buy time. I needed to prepare myself for the search and for facing you.”
“And when did you start looking for me?”
“The evening Raegan confronted me about you, I told her I would find you and see if you were ready to meet her, but I didn’t give her your name. That same night I did a search online, and it led me to the news about the new CrossFit gym… and you.”
“I guess she took it upon herself to find me before that. How on earth did she do that on her own? Jesus, Rachel, I met her over three weeks ago, she must have already known when she asked you about me.”
“She’s a smart girl… I’m not sure how she could have gotten your name, unless she’s been snooping through my stuff.” I laugh sardonically. “I’m so stupid for underestimating her. I wish she’d have told me.”
Mike rests back against the counter and crosses his arms over his chest. God, he looks amazing. His toned and tanned arms flex as he considers what I’ve said. “I think we need to confront her about this together.”
My eyes drift to the ceiling in an effort not to stare. I sigh and think about what Raegan’s done and how I drove her to it. It kills me to think about everything I’ve done to protect her—only to force her to make choices like this. It scares the crap out of me that she made contact with a strange man without mentioning anything to me. “I’m supposed to pick her up tomorrow after work. She’ll be at her friend’s until then. Do you want to come over after we’re home? We can have dinner together.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday. You’re working?”
“Yeah, we've got a big wedding booked. I need to be there to help Isla.”
Mike watches me for a long time, as if trying to decide how to proceed. “Yeah, let’s do that. I’ll bring dinner. We need to talk about this. I understand why she did what she did, but I don’t like how she went about it. She should have been open and honest with you at least.”
After we agree, he starts looking around the kitchen again. I’m not sure how to act with him there. Now that we’ve worked that out, he’s gone quiet and so have I. I try to break the silence by asking about his sister. “You mentioned Diana. Does she live in town?”
“No, she lives in San Diego, she’s here with her daughter for the opening of the gym.”
“I guess her daughter is Olivia?”
“Yeah, didn’t I say that?”
“No, you just said Rae looks like Olivia.” When he doesn’t respond, I say,
“Won’t Diana be upset you took off on her? I’m sure she wants to spend time with you.”
“No, hell, she’s in bed.” He goes back to examining the items on the fridge again and says, “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“No! God, no, I… I’m sure she’s angry with me, knowing what’s happened between us.”
“Diana? She’s not angry with you.” He points to Raegan’s most recent report card. “She gets good grades.”
“Always. She’s very smart, and she works hard.”
He nods at that and then gestures around the kitchen and says, “Do you cook?”
“I do. I enjoy cooking. Are you hungry?”
He grins, and his eyes crease, making my heart skip a beat. “No, but thank you.” He points to the kitchen nook and says, “This is where you guys eat?”
The bottle of wine I emptied when I got home is sitting there next to a single glass. “Yes. We probably spend most of our time here.”
“Wine drinker, huh?”
“Yeah, well, we all medicate in our own way, right?”
This makes him chuckle, and his entire face brightens with it. “Very true. Do you have another bottle?”
“You want a drink?” I ask with raised eyebrows. “I have some whiskey too if you’d prefer that.”
“Whiskey?” Approval washes over his expression.
“Bulleit Bourbon okay with you?”
“Sounds good.” He turns to inspect more of the kitchen. “I run.”
I lift the bottle from the cabinet and grab a couple of glasses, and then realize my robe has slid open again. I pour us each a short glass then tie it back into place with a glance at Mike. He’s watching me, his eyes traveling the length of me. It makes me feel as if I’m wearing nothing at all. The heat in his eyes when they lift to mine is hard to ignore. “You run? What do you mean?” I ask, handing him a glass, trying to break the tension.
“That’s how I medicate. I started after you left. It was the only way to clear my head.”
Ouch. The smile slips from my face. As happy as I am that we’re talking, sometimes his words cut. But at least we’re not fighting. I’m not sure why I expect everything to be a fight with him. When did I turn him into a combative person in my mind? His anger is more than understandable. I take a sip of the whiskey and let the heat of it slide down my throat. Then another sip in the hope that it will calm my nerves a little.