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Runaway Road

Page 7

by Devney Perry


  The truth was, I hadn’t thought much about Thomas in the past few days. I didn’t miss him—hadn’t for months. I didn’t yearn for the early days of our marriage, when there had been more joy and thrill. Though things had taken a hard turn at the end, a part of me was glad we were over.

  Would I have left otherwise? If there hadn’t been Secretary and the affair, would I have ever realized how unhappy I’d become?

  Money had blinded me. I wasn’t in love with Thomas. My job had lost its appeal. That life was devoid of passion.

  Passion, I did miss.

  Which was probably another reason the last three nights had been so refreshing. Passion and anticipation coated each minute I spent with Brooks like warm chocolate on vanilla bean ice cream. It took every second to the next, delicious level.

  He hadn’t made a move to kiss me again. Would he try again tonight? My time in Summers was coming to a close. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to drive away without at least one kiss to take with me. It would be a memory I’d tuck into my pocket to pull out and replay on the lonely days.

  “I picked up your car before I came tonight,” Brooks said. “It’s all done. Good as new.”

  “Really? Okay.” That was disappointing. Expected, since he’d promised three or four days, but disappointing. As a show of faith, I hadn’t asked Brooks about my car. Or maybe I hadn’t asked because I was content for the moment.

  Brooks swallowed the last bite of his sandwich. How he could eat all that and maintain a flat stomach was borderline unfair. I’d only made it through a third of mine and was stuffed. I wrapped it in the paper and set it aside.

  “You’ll be back on the road tomorrow.”

  Did I hear a hint of disappointment in his voice? Or was I projecting my own? “That’s fantastic.”

  Liar. Maybe I could stay longer? I didn’t have a schedule. This trip was all about me and going at my own pace. Tempting, but every night spent on this rock with Brooks would only make me hold out for the next.

  I could stay, but I wouldn’t. The time had come to move along to the next stop on this adventure. Once Karson had the Cadillac and I’d satisfied my curiosity about his life, I would be free to wander and go at my own pace.

  “Brooks?” A woman’s voice carried across the yard behind us. We both twisted, looking past a tree trunk.

  “Damn it,” Brooks grumbled, pushing up to his feet. “Be back.”

  “Okay.”

  He jogged across the yard, once again in bare feet, and met the woman as she came down from his porch. She wore black sunglasses that hid most of her face. Her brown hair was pulled up into a purposefully messy knot on the top of her head. The summer dress she wore wrapped around her body, tying tight underneath her generous breasts.

  She was beautiful, and clearly upset with my dinner companion. She planted her hands on her waist and screwed up her mouth in a tight line as Brooks spoke. When it was her turn to talk, she cast a scowl my way.

  Shit. She’d caught me staring. Should I hide? Who was she?

  I hadn’t asked if Brooks had a girlfriend. Considering we sat outside his house, I was certain he wasn’t married. I’d made the assumption that he was the kind of man who wouldn’t be sharing dinner with a woman if he were otherwise entangled.

  Maybe that was stupid on my part. My husband had just cheated on me. But, call it a gut feeling, Brooks didn’t seem to be the straying kind.

  He was a man who bought a woman a cell phone because he didn’t like the idea of her on the road without the ability to call for help. He was a gentleman in the truest sense of the word, putting me first in everything from opening a door to taking the first bite of a meal.

  Not wanting to stare as he spoke to the woman, I turned my attention to the lake. I sipped the bottle of water he’d brought me as a speedboat raced through the calm water in the distance. It traveled fast, a white fleck on the water by the time Brooks came back.

  “Sorry about that.” He hopped up on the rock.

  “That’s okay. Do you need to go?” An engine started in the distance and I glanced over my shoulder as the woman reversed a Honda out of his driveway.

  “No. That was my ex-wife, Moira.”

  “Ah.” Of course she’d be beautiful. I bet she’d made a beautiful bride in a white gown, walking to a handsome Brooks in a tux, standing at an altar. My mental picture was tinged with green.

  When was the last time I’d gotten jealous? Had I been jealous of Secretary? Hurt, yes. Betrayed, absolutely. But jealous? Not really.

  Had his house been Moira’s home? Had she shared this rock too?

  “Do you ever swim in the lake?” I blurted.

  It was an odd question, given the moment, but I didn’t want to talk to Brooks about his ex-wife. I sensed he didn’t either. Especially on our last night.

  “Sometimes.” Brooks went along with my change of subject. “When it’s hot.”

  “I only learned to swim five years ago.” My parents hadn’t put me in swim lessons, and I’d been busy working my summers away instead of spending them at the community pool. On my honeymoon, I’d stayed safely in a lounge chair.

  It wasn’t until Thomas had insisted on scuba diving on a trip to the Caribbean that I’d had to admit I didn’t know how to swim. He’d insisted on lessons.

  “I was supposed to take private lessons, but when I got to the pool, there had been a mix-up and they’d put me in the kids’ class. They offered to switch things around, but I stayed. The kids didn’t care that a grown woman couldn’t swim. I wasn’t quite as pathetic.”

  “There’s a lot of folks who live around here, around this lake, and don’t swim.” Brooks nudged my shoulder with his. “It’s not pathetic.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  The inability to swim hadn’t been important until Thomas had pointed out I was lacking. He seemed to find more flaws with me than I did myself. Each time he realized I’d missed something in my youth that set me apart from other cultured adults, he remedied it immediately.

  Londyn hasn’t ridden a horse? He bought me a horse and had it stabled with a riding instructor.

  Londyn can’t tell the difference between merlot and cabernet? He hired a sommelier to join us for dinner three nights a week.

  Londyn doesn’t like the opera? He bought season tickets because I hadn’t been enough to appreciate it.

  I hated the fucking opera. Red wine, no matter the grape, tasted like red wine. And horses scared the piss out of me.

  Yep. I didn’t miss him at all.

  A bird chirped loudly from above, causing me to turn. It was perched in a tree next to Brooks’s back deck. “I like your house.”

  “Thanks.” He turned, taking in the back of his house too. “I bought it after the divorce.”

  That answered my earlier question about Moira. “It’s nice. Very quaint.”

  The Victorian style was complete with tall roof peaks and curled gables in their apex. On the rear side of the home, overlooking the backyard, two dormer windows emerged from the chocolate roof. The rest of the home was white. The only thing that differentiated the various sides and sections of the exterior walls was the texture. Some of the siding was horizontal boards, other parts overlapping scallops.

  “I love all the windows.” The abundance of paned glass meant that most rooms were probably flooded with daylight.

  “Same. That’s what sold me on the place. In the summer I don’t have to set an alarm. I wake up with the sun.”

  “I haven’t set an alarm since Boston. I used to wake up at four every morning. I’d go to the gym and come home to get ready for work. In the winter, I’d be up for hours before the sunrise. Maybe I’ll get up with the sun from now on too.”

  “Some days the alarm is unavoidable,” he said. “There are days when I’ve got a lot happening in the shop. I’ve never quite mastered staying ahead on office work. It was really bad in the beginning when I took over for Granddad. I had a hell of a time keeping up. Figured it out even
tually though. Tony helps keep me from drowning.”

  “Do you like your job?”

  “Yes.” His one-word answer held so much truth. Brooks loved his job, without a doubt. “What did you do in Boston?”

  “I worked for my husband’s company as his assistant.” I turned to the lake again.

  “Did you like it?”

  “Yes, I did, actually. It was the first job where I was challenged. And Thomas was great about letting me pick and choose what I wanted to work on. I started out with the easy stuff. Phones and scheduling meetings into his calendar. But it grew.”

  I liked to think he’d suffered some at work after I’d quit. That was my ego talking, but no one wanted to admit they were easily replaceable.

  “I’ve thought about getting an office manager,” Brooks said. “Someone who can do the bookkeeping and order parts and keep the papers from stacking up on my desk. I sure wouldn’t miss it. I’d much rather work on cars. Use my hands.”

  He had great hands. His fingers were long and calloused at the tips. His palms were wide and soft in the center. I was envious of my own damn car. The Cadillac had felt those hands skim across her surface.

  “I wasn’t sure exactly when you’d have the car done. You said a few days, but I didn’t think you’d have it ready so soon.”

  “No faith in me?” He feigned a wince. “I’m hurt.”

  “You’ve exceeded all my expectations.”

  “My pleasure.” His deep, soothing drawl was so comforting, it gave me the courage to ask the question on my mind.

  “When I booked my room, I had it through tomorrow. I don’t want to cancel on Meggie with such short notice. If I stayed one more night, would you go to dinner with me?”

  I held my breath. It was the first time in my life I’d asked a man on a date. But he’d say yes. Right? He was enjoying these dinners as much as I was, wasn’t he? Otherwise, why would he have invited me here each night?

  “I, uh . . .” Brooks ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t. Sorry.”

  My heart plummeted. Ouch. “That’s okay.”

  A tense silence stretched between us. Brooks didn’t offer any explanation as to why he couldn’t meet me tomorrow. I sat perfectly still, unsure what to say. Maybe he had to work late. Maybe he didn’t like eating at restaurants. Maybe he had a date. If that was the reason, I didn’t want to know.

  Without dinner tomorrow, this was the last time I’d spend with Brooks. I’d see him at the shop tomorrow morning when I collected my car, but it would be a brief farewell before I left Summers and Brooks Cohen behind for good.

  My stomach clenched. It had to be the sandwich, not the idea of leaving. I’d simply eaten too much.

  Time to go. The urge to leave hit hard, shoving me to my feet. Staying until dark wasn’t going to happen tonight. I didn’t have a wish to make. “I’d better get going. I need to pack.”

  “Londyn.” Brooks stood, blocking the way off the rock. “Don’t. Not yet.”

  “I think it’s for the best.” I met his blue gaze and my resolve to walk away broke. There was so much apology in those eyes. So much longing.

  “I—” Without finishing, he closed his mouth and shifted, making room for me to walk past.

  We both knew it was better to end this before things got complicated.

  It wasn’t like I didn’t have some memories to take along. I’d look back on my time in Summers and remember this handsome man who’d been my dinner date three nights in a row. I’d remember this rock and how I preferred it to any table. I’d remember that almost kiss.

  “Thank you,” I said as he joined me on the grass. “It was lovely to know you, Brooks.”

  “Likewise, Londyn.” He held out his hand and I slipped mine into his grip.

  Neither of us let go.

  He tightened his hold, pulling me closer. His gaze dropped to my lips and my breath hitched. Was he going to kiss me after all? It would certainly ease the sting of rejection. He leaned closer. My eyes drifted closed.

  A whisper of a breath floated across my cheek as his mouth came down and he planted a kiss.

  On. My. Cheek.

  Disappointment flamed it red. My pride turned black and blue and I pulled my hand free of his grasp. “Good night, Brooks.”

  He took a step back. “Night, Londyn.”

  Then I spun around and marched for my motel room.

  Time to get the hell out of Summers, West Virginia.

  And far away from Brooks Cohen.

  Clank.

  I jumped at the noise as it echoed from the garage. I stalled outside the door, not sure if I should get any closer. Was that normal garage noise? Because it sounded really loud. When nothing followed, I took another step.

  Clank. Thud. Clank.

  I jumped again, gasping at the bangs and clashes that came in a steady stream.

  “Goddamn it!” Brooks roared.

  Then came another crash. This one sounded like metal hitting metal, followed by the clink and clatter of tools hitting the concrete floor.

  “Fuck!”

  Uh . . . What the hell was going on? Was he hurt? I stepped forward, not sure what to expect, and peered around the door.

  Brooks was pacing beside my car, his fists clenched in fury and his chest heaving.

  I followed his gaze.

  “What happened to my car?” I shrieked, stepping inside.

  Long scratches ran up the length of the red paint. They were thin and narrow, angry as they cut through the smooth surface. It wasn’t as bad as when I’d skidded into the guardrail, but it wasn’t good either. The trunk was covered in yellow. The paint dripped to the floor, puddling next to a tire.

  My hands dove into my hair. “Oh my God.”

  “Londyn, I can explain.” Brooks held out a hand.

  “Yes. Please.” I nodded, unable to look away from the wreckage.

  “Someone broke in last night and vandalized the place.”

  I tore my eyes away from the Cadillac and took in the rest of the garage. The same yellow paint on my car had been splashed on one of the cinderblock walls. Tools were scattered across the floor. Tires that had been stacked against the far wall were strewn around. There was another car in the opposite bay but it looked unharmed.

  “Who would do this?”

  Brooks sighed, planting his fists on his hips. “I don’t know.”

  “Take a guess.” This was a small town. He had to have some idea who would do this to me. And the narrowed look on his face said he definitely had an idea.

  “Moira.”

  His ex-wife? “Why?” Was this because she’d seen us sitting on that rock last night? “I’m no one. I’m leaving. Or I was until this.”

  His lips pursed into a thin line. “She gets jealous. She knows I’ve got a thing for you.”

  “Oh.” My anger flatlined. “You do?”

  “Think that’s pretty obvious, don’t you?”

  “But you didn’t kiss me last night.” He’d rejected my date.

  “No, I didn’t.” He walked to the Cadillac, leaning against the scratched side panel. I couldn’t see the driver’s side, but I was guessing it hadn’t fared well either. “That was my mistake, and I regretted it all night long.”

  I’d sulked for hours as I’d slowly packed up my suitcases last night, wishing things had ended differently. I guess I’d get that wish because there’d be no goodbye today.

  “What about my car?”

  “I’ll wash off the paint, but it’ll have to go back to the body shop for the scratches.”

  I stepped closer, running my finger over a scratch. “Is that from a key?”

  “Yeah,” he muttered.

  “You don’t sound surprised.”

  “No.” He blew out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’ll pay to have it fixed, but it will take a while.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it? If your ex is jealous, she should have just left me alone. I would have been gone.”

  Brooks pushed off the car an
d strode my way. “I’m so sorry, Londyn.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “You’d be on your way if I had stayed away from you.”

  Even if I could get in my car right now, I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted. “Make it up to me?”

  “Absolutely. How?”

  “Dinner tonight.”

  His chin fell. “I can’t tonight.”

  Damn. Twice? “You keep shooting me down and it’s killing my ego,” I muttered.

  “I can’t do dinner. But how about that kiss?”

  My eyes whipped up as he crossed the distance between us, his hands leading the way. They came to my face, cupping my cheeks and angling my head to the side. He inched closer until his boots touched my shoes. “Well?”

  I nodded.

  Brooks swept down and captured my mouth, stealing all the breath from my lungs. I went up on my tiptoes as his tongue swept across my bottom lip, the gentleman seeking permission. I opened for him, letting him dive in deep.

  His hands stayed on my face, pulling me to him as he let one of those low groans loose, down my throat. It sent a rush to my core. His taste exploded on my tongue, the lingering bitterness of coffee mixed with his own sweetness. His tongue dueled with mine as those soft lips pressed hard.

  I would have pegged Brooks as the type to go for soft and sweet at first, but there was nothing gentle or demure about this kiss. He took what he wanted, demanding more. It was hot and I’d feel his fingertips on my face for the rest of the day.

  Other than our mouths, it was the only place we touched.

  I didn’t dare bring my hands to his chest. I didn’t dare risk wrapping my arms around his waist or sidling my hips toward his. Brooks was in charge and he was doing a damn fine job without my help.

  The kiss ended too quickly. He pulled away, letting me go as he wiped his mouth, leaving a smug smirk in place.

  “Th-thanks.” I was off-balance. “I feel better about my car.”

  He chuckled. “Same.”

  “So, I’ll, uh . . . go.” I took a step backward, pointing to the exit. If I didn’t get out of here, there was a good chance I’d crawl my way up his body and we’d do a lot more than kiss. I spun around as a smile spread across my face.

 

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