April awoke with a deliciously pleasant soreness between her thighs and a warm body beside her in bed. She hadn’t meant to spend the night at the cabin, and when she’d opted to at the last possible moment, she told herself that she had to sleep in one of the smaller bedrooms. It didn’t matter which uncomfortable single bed she took, as long as she wasn’t sleeping next to Van. They weren’t ready for anything. Hell, they could barely have a conversation about nothing without it being awkward.
Yet, they’d done so much more last night than have a conversation about nothing. Repeatedly, in fact. Over and over again she’d fallen into Van’s arms, forgetting all the baggage they had in order to just enjoy herself with him. It had felt so good—so right—to have him between her thighs again, to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and to sink her nails into his back. In fact…
As silently as she could, she rolled over and scanned his exposed back, biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling when she spied a few lingering marks around his shoulder blades that she’d left with her nails. Thin red lines. Without thinking, she reached forward to trace them then pulled back when Van stirred. Her heart started to pound, as he rolled over to face her, and in those few possibly long seconds, all her fears and worries came hurdling back. Before he opened his eyes, she quickly darted out of bed and locked herself in the bathroom.
Luckily for him, all it took was a splash of cold water on her face to bring her back to her senses. Just because she didn’t want to dive back into a relationship with him right away didn’t mean they couldn’t interact at all. There were things April loved about Van that were beyond the physical realm; she could still enjoy all those things. They were less dangerous than touching, certainly.
However, once she was back in the room, she was lost to the look in his eye. He beckoned her back to bed with a nod and an extended arm, and they soon fell straight back into one another’s embrace. They hadn’t talked about them. She had no idea what Van was thinking as he kissed her, caressed her, ran his tongue along the soft crest of her breast, and wrapped his mouth over her nipple.
And a part of her didn’t care. She could sit in the dark for just a little while longer.
Instead of the frenzied, heated lovemaking they engaged in last night, April rode him lazily, cradled in his arms as his hips rose to meet hers. Foreheads touching, morning breath forgotten, they kissed and nibbled and lavished each other with sweet, sleepy affection until they’d both succumbed to the pleasure—April first, Van following shortly after. That was the only time he handled her roughly, thrusting forcefully into her, as she rode out her orgasm and Van came inside her with a groan. Sweetness was nice—and appreciated—but there was something about being manhandled by him that always left her wanting more.
However, once was enough. Maybe they both sensed it, and they both headed for a strictly platonic shower together before heading downstairs for something to eat. In her flighty panic, April hadn’t thought to pack anything more than the cans of beans and bread she’d given him last night, and she smiled when she opened the fridge. Clearly Mike—because Rabbit didn’t strike her as the caring sort—had been by earlier that morning with all the essentials. Wordlessly, she pulled out a carton of eggs and got to work on some fried eggs and toast. Van, meanwhile, set the table, glasses and cutlery clinking in the background.
Once the meal was served, they sat eating for a few minutes in silence, nothing but the crunch of toast and the slurp of coffee heard aside from the soft background noise of the radio.
“We should probably talk,” Van said finally, and her throat suddenly seemed too dry to get her latest bite down. April managed but with some effort before taking a large gulp of her coffee. “April—“
“We should talk,” she agreed, nodding, “but about something else first. Something I should have told you a long time ago.”
He slowly set his mug down, and then he leaned back in his chair and rested his hands on the table. “Okay.”
Where to start? She’d rehearsed this speech in her head so many times, but now that the spotlight was on her, she froze. Shaking her head, she cleared her throat and struggled for a few moments, the words simply not coming.
“Is it about us?”
“Sort of,” she replied, touched by the gentleness in his tone. “When you first called me to tell me you’d been arrested, I… I was ready to jump in the car and drive there that night to see you. I was ready to fight, because I knew you’d never do what you were accused of. I’ve always stood by that.”
When she glanced his way, Van’s eyes were fixed on his coffee mug, his forehead wrinkled in a slight frown.
“But my mom made me go back to your dad’s that night to talk, and he said we’d all go in the morning because all we’d do is sit around waiting until then at the station to see you anyway,” she continued, remembering that night as clear as day. She’d played it over and over again in her mind, wondering if she could have done something different to alter their lives. “I went to sleep in the guest house, and your dad…. He followed me out.” Van’s hand closed into a fist suddenly, and she gulped. “He threatened me again, like before, but worse. He said he’d hurt my mom if I didn’t call things off between us. He said she was… a cash cow, basically. That all he wanted was her money.” Her voice shook as she relayed that particular comment, fear and rage gripping her in equal measures. “He said he’d never leave me alone. That he’d kill her. That he’d make sure you went away for a long time… I… I had no choice.”
The silence that fell between them was so heavy, and for a moment, she thought he might not believe her. He’d always believed that there’d been some misunderstanding between her and his dad before, and she could only hope that this time things would be different. A darkness had crept across his features, and before she could stop him, he’d picked up his mug and hurled it across the room. It shattered as soon as it hit the wall, coating the floor in broken bits of ceramic.
“I didn’t want to believe that he would… do something like that,” Van seethed, anger radiating off him. “That he’d threaten to hurt you. I couldn’t. I knew he was a piece of shit in another life, but I thought your mom had changed him…”
Sighing, April swung her chair about the table so that they could sit next to one another again. She’d initially thought of kneeling beside him, but nixed the idea, feeling it was too intimate. Instead, she placed her hand on his shoulder, then let it fall down to his back, rubbing gently. His body heat was off-the-charts, though the tension slowly eased out of him as she rubbed his back, and when she pulled her hand back, he slumped in his chair.
“I don’t think anyone can change a guy like your dad,” she said tentatively. “Not a wife, not a friend, and not a son. It’s nobody’s responsibility by his, and I don’t think he really wants to change.”
“It was naïve of me to think it, I guess.”
April shook her head. “No one wants their dad to be an asshole.”
A psychopathic asshole at that.
“That’s putting it mildly, I guess,” Van said, as if reading her thoughts. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he sat up and placed a hand on her leg. “I’m so sorry he did that to you. I will never, ever let him hurt you. Never.”
She set her hand on top of his for a brief moment then pulled back. “Van. You say that, but he put you in jail—“
“What?!”
“That’s my theory, anyway,” April told him hastily, feeling the rage flare up again. “He… He had access to the bag. Hell, he set up the job that got you arrested. Maybe he even tipped off the cops, I don’t know. I don’t have the proof… aside from my gut instinct.”
And it wasn’t like her gut instinct would hold up in court. Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips as she waited for his reaction, but it seemed like he just needed time. Rising, Van stalked out of the kitchen, and she heard him open and slam the front door. Worried that he might take her car and go off after his dad, she raced to the living room window, only to let out a deep breath again when she saw him sitting on the front steps in nothing but sweat pants and a t-shirt, something she assumed Mike had also left for him.
Pursing her lips, she grabbed the blanket she’d used last night and crept out onto the porch. Once she’d draped the fabric over his shoulders, she left a soft kiss on his cheek and moved back inside to clean up.
By the time he rejoined her, she was snuggled up in the living room in front of the fake fireplace—why they wouldn’t build a real one was beyond her—as she played games on her phone. There were a few missed calls from her mom, which she refused to return, and James had sent her a text message she didn’t dare open. Van shuffled across the polished hardwood then dropped down on the couch beside her.
“Sorry if I… exploded,” he muttered. “I just needed some time to think. And thanks for the blanket.”
“Can’t have you freezing to death.” April shifted into a more upright position, though she was careful not to cuddle up against him. “Who will protect me then?”
His mouth twitched at her joke, which she quickly realized was in poor taste.
“I’m going to round up some of the MC guys,” he told her after a brief pause. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Let’s not forget you’re also on the run from the coppers,” April added, stiffening when he reached out to play with her hair. He smiled.
“I know. I’ll be careful, but my dad needs to pay for what he did, what he’s done for years.”
April nibbled her lower lip, wanting to tell him that she thought they should keep things casual until all of this was sorted out. After all, Van had a lot on his plate, and he didn’t need the relationship touchy-feely drama that they were bound to drudge up.
But he also didn’t have to have “the talk” either. He had enough to worry about. She’d tell him another day. So, when Van leaned in to brush his lips over hers, she let him, because he had enough to worry about.
…Right.