Forbidden Attraction: A Contemporary Romance Box Set

by K. C. Crowne

  It looked like the same old shed to me. Not much had changed.

  A noise caught my attention outside the shed, and I reached for my knife, quickly pulling it from the sheath. Moving on light feet, I moved beside the door, hiding myself from view if someone tried to enter. Another sound came from outside, and I felt my gut clench. Footsteps. A branch cracking under the weight of some heavy feet. Whoever it was, they were careless. Maybe they didn’t expect anybody to be there, but they weren’t even trying to be quiet. And they were headed my way. The creaky, wooden door opened, a shadow fell into the shed’s interior, and instinct took over. I stepped out in front of the person, knife in plain view, ready to get on with it.

  Only to come face-to-face with my brother.

  “What the fuck, man?” he said, frowning at me and my knife. “You think you’re Rambo or some shit?”

  I put the knife away. “Sorry. When I went out back, I noticed the door was no longer boarded up. Thought there might be some squatter taking up residence in their shed. What are you doing?”

  “I saw you headed over here, wanted to see what was up,” he shrugged. He ran a hand through his thick, dark brown beard as his eyes took in our surroundings, and I swear I saw the wave of nostalgia crashing over him. He was still frowning, his expression pinched and sour.

  “Lot of memories here,” he said. “Lots of history.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I muttered, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Too fucking many, if you ask me.”

  “You still miss her?” he asked me, his eyes narrowing and jaw clenching.

  “Of course. Don’t you?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “Every fucking day.”

  “But she made it perfectly clear that she wanted nothing to do with us,” I said. “Nothing we can really do about it.”

  “Yeah, but that was years ago, man,” Wyatt reminded me.

  “Years ago, and we still haven’t heard a peep from her. Nothing,” I reminded him. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up of her coming home anytime soon, Wyatt. Or that she’d even want to see us if she did.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice distant, a wan smile pulling at his lips. “Remember the time Boone found that stash of booze hidden in the woods and brought it here?”

  I chuckled as the memory surfaced in my mind. “We were dumb as hell to drink it.” I laughed. “Who knows how old that shit was.”

  “Hey, we survived, though,” he said.

  “Barely. Boone was throwing up for days. We had to scrub this shed clean the next morning, before his parents woke up.”

  “Totally worth it,” Wyatt agreed.

  “I suppose so. I just remember that Hazel was so happy that night. More so than usual,” I said.

  All I remembered was how much she smiled, and how she couldn’t keep her hands off me and my brother. Not in a sexual way, but in a warm, caring way. She’d hold our hands and drag us out into the field to look at the stars or she’d rest her head in our laps. She also threw up a lot that night, and we both took care of her. I held her hair as she vomited behind a tree not too far from the shed, and she went right back to smiling and laughing as if she hadn’t just puked up everything she’d eaten in the last week.

  Then one day, it had all changed. Hazel had wanted nothing to do with us and offered no explanation. It had sucked. We both missed her something awful.

  “Welp, we better seal this place back up so the racoons don’t make a home in here. I’d hate for the Hudsons to come back to find a family of critters living in their shed,” Wyatt said.

  “Yeah, they’re never coming back.” I laughed.

  Only Boone ever made it back out this way. For a while, even he was distant, without telling us why. He told us to talk to Hazel, but she had never returned our calls. We never got any answers. Eventually, Boone came around more and more often and some of the ice between us thawed. We weren’t as close as we used to be, but we’d have a beer and catch up on life once every few months or so. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. It was definitely better than what had come before it, anyway.

  God, I missed him. He used to be my best friend, my partner-in-crime. While Hazel and Wyatt were mostly well-behaved and the good citizens of our little crew, Boone and I often got into trouble together. I remembered that we used to have a blast back in the day. Skipping school and hanging out in the woods, smoking weed and drinking whiskey while Wyatt and Hazel went to school and kept their grades up.

  That was one reason Wyatt was a bit closer to Hazel than I was— they were in clubs together, they bonded over academic things Boone and I didn’t give a shit about. Both of them were athletic and played every sport they could sign up for, and they often worked out together, which only seemed to deepen their bond. I envied Wyatt for that very reason. I’d always had a crush on Hazel, as did my brother, and I remembered always being jealous of the time he got to spend with her.

  Of course, neither one of us ended up with her. She moved away and never spoke to either of us again. The thing that frustrated me the most, and honestly, still stung pretty fucking bitterly, was that she never told us why we’d suddenly become persona non grata in her life. It was a question without an answer that still bugged the shit out of me.

  I helped Wyatt secure the door again, boarding it back up, before heading back to our place. It was always nice being home and between jobs, nice to roam around the woods and soak in the natural beauty of the place. Though it was filled with some old ghosts, it was a place of healing. I had to admit, though, that it did get pretty lonely sometimes.

  I shot a look towards the Hudson house. So many memories, all of them bittersweet now that Hazel was gone. Maybe one day she’d come back to visit the old place. In my ideal world, we’d learn why she’d cut us off the way she had. We’d get some answers and move past it and be as close as we used to be.

  But it wasn’t my ideal world. It was reality, and even if she did come home again, somehow I doubted she’d talk to either Wyatt or me. As I stood there, part of me hoped to see some movement inside the house. I’d hoped to see some sort of sign that Boone was back in town. At least talking to Boone again made me feel like Hazel was a part of our lives, if only tangentially. But there was nothing. The place stood still, looking as lonely as I felt at that moment.

  Wyatt

  “I’m heading into town for beer. Need anything while I’m there?” Ryder asked.

  “Nah, I think I’m good,” I said, leaning back in my father’s old recliner, staring into the fireplace. “Thanks, though.”

  Ryder left, and I listened to the door shutting behind him and the roar of the engine as his truck started up. A moment later, I heard the gravel crunching under the tires as he pulled out of the driveway. With the house utterly still and silent and the world outside filled only with the sound of birds and the occasional plane flying overhead, I realized just how alone I was. It hit me just how isolated we were out there in the middle of the sticks.

  Our parents had passed away ten years before in a car accident that wasn’t their fault. I was barely an adult at the time, and Ryder had just turned eighteen himself. Neither one of us was ready to be on our own, yet there we were with nobody else but each other in the entire world. Somehow, we managed to get by. I’d say in some ways, we even thrived.

  Financially, it was never an issue— our parents had money. As a kid, I was aware of it but never really knew how much they had. So you could imagine my surprise when I found out they’d left us enough to live comfortably for the rest of our days without working very hard, if we wanted to. We had a home, money in the bank, and the freedom to do whatever we wanted to do with our lives.

  But we had no one. Well, we had the Hudsons, who thankfully took us in when we needed them the most. But there was still something missing, and this massive empty void in our lives I knew could never be filled.

  Our home had meant to be a house for a family. A house filled with kids. It was never supposed to be a bac
helor pad for two grumpy, single men approaching thirty. And truth be told, I’d always wanted a family of my own. I wasn’t sure about Ryder. He never talked about it, but I’d always hoped to have a son one day. Or a daughter. Someone I could teach how to hunt and live off the land like my father taught me. I wanted to pass down the wisdom my father instilled in me into some kids of my own.

  I stared into the fireplace, the fire cackling and burning. The house was silent around me, the absolute lack of sound pressing against me like it had a physical weight to it. It was too quiet and was starting to drive me crazy.

  I pushed myself up from the chair and walked toward the back of the house. Whenever the world was too lonely or quiet, I’d usually just head to the backyard. We had animals that helped provide us food. Chickens that gave us eggs, goats that gave us milk. But they were more than just sustenance providers for me; they were also a reprieve from the silence and loneliness that so often consumed me.

  I loved living in the mountains, I loved our home. Hell, I even loved my life. something was missing. There was one big empty spot I had no clue how to fill. And for me, that something was a family. I wanted someone to share all of this with. Someone other than my brother.

  For now, the closest thing to a family I had were the chickens, goats, and horses we kept on our property. It wasn’t much, but I knew it was still more than some people had. As usual, the moment I stepped into the pen, the chickens all rushed toward me. They were smart enough to know that humans equaled food and that whenever I stepped into the pen, they were most likely getting fed. I dropped some pellets on the ground and watched them peck at them. That’s as close as they came to me, though— just close enough to get the food. The chickens clucked and cooed. There wasn’t really any interaction with them, which meant I was still pretty lonely, all things considered. The goats and horses were usually better about interacting with me.

  I exited the chicken pen, and something caught my eye over at the Hudson place. There was movement inside the house. Boone usually let us know when he was in town, always stopping by so we didn’t get suspicious or come bursting in guns drawn and ready for a fight. Sure, maybe he’d gotten in late the night before or had just forgotten to call this time, but considering the broken door on the shed we’d found, combined with seeing someone inside the house, put me on edge and set all my warning bells off.

  I went back inside, grabbing the first weapon I could get ahold of— dad’s old hunting rifle. It wasn’t loaded, so I grabbed some ammo and stuffed the shells into my pocket just in case things went sideways. But I didn’t load the gun. There was no need to carry around a loaded gun if there was no threat. Besides, even if it was a squatter, which it probably was, I’d prefer to scare the guy off rather than actually shoot at someone. I’d be able to jam shells into the rifle in the blink of an eye if things got hairy. I was just hoping it didn’t come to that.

  I exited through the back door and walked over to the Hudson property, never taking my eyes off the house. I opened the gate, cringing as it creaked and praying that whoever was inside the house hadn’t heard the sound. Through the window, I saw someone walk by again. They were in the living room, so they probably didn’t see me sneaking in through the back.

  My plan was that I’d enter through the kitchen and sneak up on them from behind. I walked up the steps to the back door and tried the knob. It was locked. Of course it was. Ryder had the keys to the place with him, and I didn’t want to wait until he got back, so I did the next best thing.

  I knew the handle was loose. It needed to be replaced, and I’d gladly get them a new door handle after the house was secure. Hell, I’d buy them a whole new door. I just wanted to make sure no one was messing with their stuff.

  I jiggled the handle, then yanked as hard as I could. It took me a few tries before the door creaked open. I waited, listening to see if anyone had heard me. I heard movement in the living room, the sound of footsteps. Someone was definitely walking around in there.

  I slowly entered the house, lightly stepping into the kitchen I’d been in countless times before. I’d eaten my fair share of breakfasts there with the Hudsons over the years. There was a hallway that led past the dining room and into the living room. One, long hallway that had plenty of creaky boards that could betray me.

  I entered the hall moving slowly at first, then had to duck into the dining room when I heard footsteps coming my way. They continued down the hallway. Along with the footsteps, I heard something else. It sounded like…humming? No actual singing, just the melody of a song. It was hummed by a soft, feminine voice that when I heard it, opened a yawning pit in my stomach. I may not have recognized the song, but the voice was one I knew well.

  My chest tightened, and I loosened my grip on the rifle. Pressing myself against the dining room wall, I wasn’t sure what to do. If I made myself known by stepping out and announcing my presence, I’d probably scare her half to death. Plus, did I really want to see her again like this? I wasn’t sure I was ready.

  “Jesus Christ!” Hazel screamed.

  I looked over and saw her standing in the dining room doorway, her hand on her chest. Oops. I guess time for deciding was up.

  “What the fuck, Wyatt?” she screamed, her eyes wide as saucers, her face turning from scared as shit pale to an angry shade of red.

  A million thoughts flooded my mind, but I couldn’t find the words to speak to her. She was every bit as beautiful as I remembered. No, scratch that. She was even more beautiful. Her red hair was longer, falling over her shoulders in soft, gentle waves. Her blue eyes were vivid and filled with emotion. And her body— God, she’d filled out even more. A perfect hourglass figure with lean muscle running throughout. I had to stop myself from drooling.

  I finally found my voice. “I’m sorry. I thought someone had broken into your home.”

  “Yeah, someone most certainly has,” Hazel said, hands on her hips. “And I’m staring right at him.”

  “I didn’t know you were back in town, Hazel,” I said, running a hand through my beard.

  “No, listen, this isn’t the time for a reunion,” she said, biting her lip.

  Her eyes were full of anger. I could understand her being upset at me for breaking into her house and scaring her half to death. I got that. But the level of anger in her face and the heat in her voice made it clear that whatever it was that was bothering her went much deeper than a pretty good scare.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “When I saw movement over here, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  “Everything is fine, so can you leave now?”

  I walked toward the back door, and Hazel followed me. When we reached the broken door, she looked at it and sighed. “Really, Wyatt? You broke my fucking door?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll fix it for you.”

  “Don’t bother,” she shook her head, pulling it open. “Just leave, alright?”

  I stepped outside and turned around to face her. We locked eyes, and for a moment, the look of anger was gone and was replaced by something else.

  “Hazel, what’s going on?”

  Her lower lip trembled, but she quickly bit back the emotion and steadied herself. “You know what’s going on, Wyatt. Stop playing stupid with me.”

  “I don’t. I really don’t know why you hate us so much.”

  She shook her head and muttered, “Unbelievable.”

  “You just left us one day, and we never knew why.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, if you’re not willing to own up to it, even after all this time, there’s no use continuing this conversation, is there? Goodbye, Wyatt. Please don’t bother me again.”

  She slammed the door, but it bounced back open again. I saw her hurrying through the house, back toward the living room. I watched her for a second before I reached out and secured the door. I’d meant what I’d said— I’d gladly fix and replace the door— but I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to come back by anytime soon. Sure didn’t seem like it
.

  I sighed and stood there for a long moment, remembering all the good times we’d had and wondered what went wrong. Own up to what? What exactly did she want me to own up to? What had we done? I racked my brain, trying to come up with anything that could explain the level of rage she still carried toward us and came up blank. I honestly had zero fucking clue.

  The last time we’d seen her before she left, things were good. At least, I thought they were. We were drinking at a party, having a good time. All four of us. Boone was there as well as some others, including their step-sister, Lila. Now, Lila was somebody I didn’t like very much, but there’d been no drama as far as I could tell. Hazel went off to the bathroom at one point, then came back and screamed at us. Boone followed, as did Lila. And that was it.

  The next day, Boone told us Hazel was leaving, and it was in our best interest to leave her alone. He followed her to Los Angeles not long after that. Last I’d heard, she went to college out there, something she’d briefly talked about doing but wasn’t sure she wanted to leave her home here in the mountains. Whatever happened that night at the bar apparently changed her mind about a lot of things. Most especially about my brother and me.

  If only I knew what the hell was going on, maybe we’d get our answers. Maybe if I knew what she was so pissed about, we could atone for whatever we’d done. I’d do whatever it took to make things right if she’d give us the chance.

  I thought about it from all angles, but I knew when to leave things to be. She wanted to be left alone. As much as it killed me to do so, I walked back to my house, not so much as glancing back again.

  Some things were simply out of my control, and sometimes, you just had to learn when to cut your losses.

  Hazel

  My heart was racing. I returned to the living room, and through the window, I watched Wyatt walk away, his shoulders slumped and a look of pure confusion on his face. Part of me wanted to run after him. That part wanted to reconnect with both Ryder and Wyatt and put the past behind us in the worst way possible. I watched Wyatt go into his house, letting the door swing shut behind him. I let out a small shriek, jumping when my phone rang suddenly, shattering the silence around me.