Chapter Seventeen
“Hey there, cutie, you had a package delivered,” Annie called from her front porch. She was rocking in one of the white rockers situated on the porch and drinking a glass of tea. What a life. Lila thought for the first time in a long time that maybe she could have a life like that someday. Easy and lazy, just her, a rocker, a tall glass of sweet tea and a certain handsome man.
She sighed at the thought and waved to Annie. “Thank you, Ms. Annie!”
Lila had spent all afternoon talking to Audrey about Brady and what had happened. Apparently, she hoped they could go out, an official date and all, and Brady hoped they could keep things casual. In the end, it was probably for the best. Brady had a reputation for never settling down, never being content with a woman for more than a few weeks. Audrey deserved someone who would be there for her for the long haul.
Telling herself she’d send her friend a quick text to check in on her when she made it inside, she went up the steps where, sure enough, a large white envelope with her name on it but no return address rested against the door. Hmm, that was odd.
Opening the door, she kicked it back closed with her foot and examined the envelope closer. It was probably a telemarketer thing or something, but then she thought of her old friends, and how they had talked about coming to visit. She did give them her address, so maybe it was something from them.
She pulled out a knife from the silverware drawer and tore open the end of the envelope. Once opened, she emptied the contents onto the kitchen counter, only to feel all the blood drain from her body.
Before her lay a dozen or more four-by-six photos, all of her and Charlie during their camping trip. Some were at the campsite, some were of them hiking. Others were of just close-ups of her face. And then one was of them kissing, his arms wrapped around her, their bodies pressed together, and suddenly Lila couldn’t breathe.
Who would have done this? And then the answer hit her like a freight train, causing her legs to go weak and for her to slip to the floor. The knife clanged against the tile beside her.
“No, not again.” She gripped her head as fear worked its way through her. “How could he find me?” Suddenly, it occurred to her that it wasn’t safe here. She scanned the kitchen, the family room, and that was when she noticed the flowers on the table behind the couch, a dozen bright red roses staring back at her.
Slowly, she pushed herself to standing and walked over to the flowers. A tiny note stuck out from within their petals, and she took it, her hands shaking so badly she could hardly open it. Finally, she peered down at the words scribbled across the card.
Miss me?
A scream burst from her lips and she stumbled back, eyes searching everywhere. He had been there. Oh my God, he had been there, in her apartment. Could be there now, but no—it could have been Annie. Could be just a delivery to scare her, and Annie put them inside on the table.
She raced outside and down the steps, narrowly falling down them before she reached the bottom, not stopping until she stood before her landlord.
“Annie, did you put flowers on the table in there? Or maybe let a delivery person inside to set them down?”
Her brow quirked. “No, can’t say I did. How nice, though, that you received flowers.”
The last of the warmth in Lila’s body disappeared, replaced by an icy cold. She turned slowly, eyeing the driveway, the trees. He could be anywhere. “Annie . . . do you have your phone?”
“Of course, honey, why?”
“Call 911.”
* * *
Charlie finished slicing up all the peppers and onions for the fajitas he planned to make Lila for dinner, hoping his memory served that they were a favorite. When they were younger, and Lila wasn’t old enough for her license, Lucas and Charlie (because they always carpooled) drove her to school, and she used to beg them to take her to Taco Tuesday, the only Mexican restaurant in town, for their fajitas. She was addicted to them.
When he was living at the Keys, he stumbled across a favorite little Mexican joint that made the best fajitas he’d ever eaten in his life. He grew close to the owner and managed to get the recipe, Lila on his mind, but until now he’d never tried to make them.
With the veggies cut, he went to work mixing the spices he’d picked up, sure to eye the recipe as he went along. He’d just picked up the half-crumpled napkin with the recipe written on it to look over the next steps when a knock sounded from his front door, followed by another, then another, each more urgent than the last.
He dropped the recipe on the counter and wiped his hands on his jeans, setting off for the door, worry working through him. Lila was due in a half hour, but if she were early, then something must have happened. Or he could stop being paranoid and just open the door.
Pushing aside his worry, he opened the door to find Lila on the other side, an overnight bag in hand, her eyes wide with fear.
“What happened?”
She set her bag down and launched herself into his arms, her whole body shaking.
“Lila, girl, you gotta talk to me. I’m freaking out here. What happened? Is it Lucas? Is he . . . ?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence, because it was impossible.
“No,” she said, pulling back, then she spun around, her eyes searching outside, but for what he couldn’t be sure. Charlie thought he might lose his mind.
“Seriously, I need to know what’s happening here. You’re scaring me.”
“Maybe he followed me. No, but then. Oh my God.” She clasped her hands together, and Charlie pulled her against him again.
“I’ve got you. Come inside. Tell me what happened.” He closed the door and helped her to the couch, then stood over her, waiting.
“He found me,” she said, terror-filled eyes meeting his.
“Wait—who?” Then realization worked through him. “No.”
She nodded. “I went to my apartment and there was a package. An envelope. It had pictures, Charlie. Pictures of us.” Lila’s hands went out as though trying to grasp something and then coming up empty, she placed them in her lap again. “He had photos of us.” The words were less for Charlie than for herself, and that fear there ignited something deep inside him.
“What photos?”
“From the camping trip. Hiking, at the campsite. K-kissing.” She shook her head and ran her hands over her face.
“Freaking psycho. I will take him out myself.”
“And then there were flowers inside my apartment. Annie said she didn’t put them there, so it could only be him. He’s here, Charlie.”
Charlie took a step back, needing to process everything, his eyes on the window over his kitchen sink, visible from the family room due to the open floor plan, woods behind his backyard showing through the window. No one else lived around him. She was safe here . . . right? Suddenly he wasn’t so sure.
“We need to call the cops.”
“I did. They’ve been questioning me for the last hour. They took the photos and flowers, trying to find fingerprints or something. They’re supposed to let me know, but otherwise there’s nothing they can do right now. Nothing. I called my mom, and they want to come here or have me go there, but I don’t want anyone else to be in danger. I don’t know what to do.” She put her head in her hands and he went to her, needing to make her feel protected, something.
“Look, you are safe here. I can promise you that. I’ll call my brothers to let them know, have them spread the word. I’ll call the station, too. We’ll find this asshole. But in the meantime, gun laws in Kentucky are clear. I have a no-trespassing sign at the end of my driveway, and I’m legally in my right to shoot the bastard if he steps foot on my property.” She nodded, but he could tell that she wasn’t feeling better. Not yet, but he knew what would help. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Actually, hang here for a second. I’ll be right back.”
Charlie opened the basement door and went down the steps to his finished basement, then to his gun safe. He pressed his thumb to the fingerprint pad, and instantly the safe unlocked. Scanning his weapons, he chose a small 9mm pistol, checked that it was loaded, then went back upstairs.
Lila eyed the gun, then him, her eyebrows lifting.
“Target practice. Come on. I have one set up in the back. But you’ll need these.” He passed her a pair of shooting earmuffs, knowing she’d been around Lucas enough to know exactly what they were.
“I’m going to shoot it?”
“Yep. Right now if you’re comfortable. I want you to be able to protect yourself. And this gun is lightweight enough that you should be able to handle it with ease.”
They stepped outside, the sun long since hidden behind the trees, but there was still enough light to allow them to practice.
“Okay, you remember what Lucas taught you, right?”
She nodded, widening her stance, then Charlie handed her the gun. “Remember, muzzle control at all times. Know where you’re pointing the gun; be aware.”
“And this is a semiauto, not auto, right?” she asked, and Charlie couldn’t help but grin.
“Darlin’, your brother’s the only one you know who can legally operate an automatic weapon, and that’s only when he’s on duty. And even then, he’s likely using semiauto most of the time. NFA weapons like automatic firearms are restricted at the federal level by the National Firearms Act of 1934 and the Firearms Owners’ Protection Act of 1986.”
“You seem to know a lot about them,” she said.
Charlie shrugged. “Owning a gun and carrying that gun is a serious thing. Too many idiots buy them and have no idea what they’re doing. I make it a point to be well versed in gun laws for Kentucky and every neighboring state. And then, of course, I know the ins and outs of every weapon I own. That’s just responsible gun ownership.”
“So you have a lot, then?”
“No. But I have enough to take out this bastard if he decides he wants to gamble.”
Each second she seemed to relax more, and Charlie felt pride in giving her this extra sense of protection. Lila had been around guns her whole life, and Lucas had taught her well. But this was the first time she was practicing for her own safety.
“Go ahead and put on your ear protection.” She did as he asked, and then he walked her through how to shoot it. Charlie took a slight step back and motioned to the target several yards away from them. “Fire.”
And she did, all her aggravation coming out in that one round. She fired again and again, and Charlie sensed this was bringing her more relief than anything else he could have done.
Finally, she lowered the gun and peered over her shoulder at him. “How did I do?”
He eyed the target, several fresh bullet holes in it. “Damn, woman, I thought you said you haven’t been to a shooting range in a while.”
“I was taught by a professional, remember?”
“That you were.”
Their eyes met, and he knew she was thinking about Lucas. “Would you feel safer if he were here?”
“No,” she said, starting toward him. “I feel safe with you.”
Charlie brushed her hair off of her face, then unable to hold back, pressed his lips easily to hers, the kiss a small assurance that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, but its impact on his body was immediate. Sparks and shocks like he’d never experienced coursed through him, settling in his gut, and he feared now that he’d opened himself up to the amazingness that was Lila, he might not ever be the same again.
“Hungry? I’ve got everything ready to cook.”
“What are we having?”
He smiled. “Fajitas. I hope that’s okay. You used to like them when we were younger.”
“I can’t believe you remembered that,” she said smiling back. “They’re my favorite.”
Charlie took the gun from her, held the door open, then took her hand to stop her before she could go inside. “I like you being here, in my world.”
“I like it, too.”
They went back inside, and Charlie returned the gun to his safe. Then he cooked the chicken and threw in the spices and veggies, sautéing them while Lila made them both drinks.
“So you’re a wine girl?”
She cocked her head, considering the question. “I like either. Depends on the mood.”
“Tell me more,” he called over his shoulder.
“Like what?”
“Everything. Tell me what adult Lila is like.”
She sat down at one of the barstools across from where he was working. “Let’s see. I love seafood, hate sushi.”
He grinned. “Smart woman.”
“I’m a dog person.”
“Ah, Henry approves,” he said, nodding to the dog fast asleep on his dog pillow.
“I hate that Lucas is in the army. I know that’s terrible. I love him for it, I’m fiercely proud, but I miss him. We were always really close.”
Nodding, Charlie finished up the fajitas and filled two plates with tortillas, meat, vegetables, and rice. “I miss him, too.”
“And I like you.”
Charlie’s eyes lifted.
“A lot. I have liked you since I was eight years old and you and Lucas were ten and you let me tag along when you built that dam in the creek behind our house. Something about you stuck with me, and through all of it, even with both of us living far away, I never forgot you.”
Tension sparked in the air as their gazes held, every fiber in Charlie’s body begging him to go to her, but he feared if he went now, with their emotions high, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And he had to stop. He had to think about Lucas.
“Now you tell me something,” Lila said, saving him, and hell if he didn’t adore her all the more for it. This wasn’t simple. This was drowning in complicated. The fact that she understood and wasn’t pushing meant the world to him. Because he wanted to throw caution to the wind, and to be honest, his ability to do the right thing was wearing thin.
“Tell you something? What do you want to know?”
“How about you match mine with your answers?”
He considered this as he set their plates at the table and brought around silverware, while Lila brought their drinks.
“All right, let’s see. I’m a dog person, too. Obviously.” Henry groaned as though he knew they were talking about him and rolled over, then immediately fell back asleep. “I’ll eat any fish or seafood, but count me out for sushi or raw oysters.”
“So you’ve had them or you just don’t like them?” Lila asked, taking a bite of her fajita, but then her eyes widened and she made a moaning sound as she enjoyed the bite, then swallowed. “Oh my God. These are the best fajitas I’ve ever had.”
“I know.” Suddenly Charlie couldn’t pull his gaze from her mouth.
She laughed. “Cocky, huh?”
“No, it’s just I met a guy when I lived in the Keys that gave me the recipe. I can’t really take credit for it.”
She took another bite and closed her eyes. “Wow. So good. That’s two meals you’ve spoiled me with. Next time I have to cook for you.”
“Do you cook?”
“No, not at all. What I meant by cooking was having Annie cook something for me and then I’d present it as though I cooked it myself. I’m very honest like that.”
Charlie burst into laughter, but stopped when he realized she was watching him. “Now who’s staring?”
“I can’t help it. You’re really hot. It’s hard for a woman to look away.”
Charlie flashed a crooked grin, curious where this honesty was coming from, and that was when he noticed she’d drained her wine glass.
He pointed at the glass. “How many of those have you had?”
“Just two. No, three.” Her eyes searched around as though the number could be conjured from the air, and he chuckled again. “Didn’t realize you were such a cheap drunk.”
“Hey! I’m not. Okay, maybe a little. And you didn’t finish the list.”
Taking another pull of his beer, he set it down and thought through what Lila had said before. “Well, I already told you the Lucas thing. I couldn’t be prouder of him. He’s a hero. A real, living, breathing hero. But, yeah, I miss him. I’m glad I moved back, though. Lets me see him more often.” He downed his beer, pausing to think through what he would say for his final revelation. Anything he said about his current thoughts and feelings would only elevate things, and he didn’t want to offer any more to her if he couldn’t deliver. She deserved more.
So instead, he leaned back in his chair and peered over at her, the story coming to him like it had happened yesterday. “You remember the Halloween at the farm? When we were in high school?”
Immediately, her body tensed and she reached for her wine glass again, but Charlie pushed it back. She was cute when she was buzzed, but he didn’t want her to feel sick tomorrow.
“I remember it,” she said finally, but she wasn’t looking at him now.
For a moment, he wondered if he’d chosen the right story. Would she hear him out? “And do you remember when we were over at your house earlier that day?”
“In the hammock,” she said, tracing her wine glass with her fingertip.
Charlie pressed on. Now or never. “I wanted to kiss you that day. I wanted it so badly it took every ounce of strength in me to pull away. And I did, but I couldn’t shake that moment from my head. I’d known you most of my life, and somewhere along the way, I stopped thinking of you as Lucas’s sister and started thinking of you as . . . more. So much more.”
Her eyes met his then, a smile hidden within them, and now this was the hard part. How would she react? Would she push him away, get angry, understand?
“That day I left you and went to talk to Lucas. I mentioned you, a bit of what was in my head, and he flipped.” Charlie reached for his beer, took another pull, but the damn thing was empty. He set it back down, considered getting another, but then—
“Charlie?”
“Hmm?”
“Finish the story.”
He sighed as he caught the hurt on her face. “He told me I wasn’t to touch you, that you deserved more and he was right. I knew he was right. And I also knew you had to have felt what I felt in that hammock. It was. . . .”
“Overwhelming.”
He locked on her. “Life changing. I didn’t know how to make you stay away from me, to realize that Lucas was right, you deserved more. Better. Then Audrey came up to me and told me your plans to tell me how you felt. I knew if you said it first, I’d never be able to turn you away, so I . . .”
“So you faked a hookup.”
Guilt punched him in the gut, and he wished he’d chosen a different story. Something that didn’t end with Lila in tears. “Yes, but I—”
“Shut up.” She pushed out of her chair, and Charlie was almost desperate now. He stood, ready to say he was sorry, he’d been a stupid teen. Hell, he was stupid now. Whatever to make her sit back down, to not disappear on him again.
“You don’t understand, I—”
“Stop talking.”
Shit, what the hell had he done? He opened his mouth to try again, when she stopped before him, and he thought this was it, she was going to slap him and leave, all the hope he had for something more gone because of a stupid story.
Then instead she said, “You liked me, too?”
Charlie shook his head in confusion. “Like you? You don’t get it, do you? I have never seen anyone the way I see you.”
And then she went to him, her lips on his, and he lost all control. That brief moment of fear that she’d leave, and of the subsequent emptiness, was enough for him. He was already gone, sailed away, his heart turned over to this woman. But really, she’d had his heart since she was a girl, and he’d never gotten it back. There were a thousand reasons they shouldn’t be together, but maybe that didn’t matter. Maybe all they needed was one reason that they should.
He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and all thoughts, all hope for him doing the right thing flew out the window. If she wanted him, he wouldn’t push her away.