CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I felt like a useless doll on a shelf. Or on a bed. A shirt on my top half and a pillow covering the rest, sitting there staring at these two men like they were total strangers.
Because they were.
Who were these people in front of me? One who I was with for almost a decade and lived with and nearly married, telling me—and the other who I’d known for all of a week and somehow felt closer to than I’d ever felt for Jeremy, who had lied to me from the get-go. They knew each other. They’d—done horrible things together. Shared a woman. And Jeremy’s house? The—the fire?
Leo?
“You know that’s a fucking lie,” Leo was saying from somewhere far, far away, bowing up.
I blinked in his direction and saw him towering several inches over Jeremy, looking beautiful with every muscle tight and angry, his jeans hanging loose and open on his hips. I’d just given myself to him heart, mind, body, and soul, and it was the most amazing and intimate thing I’d ever experienced. And now I felt completely violated. Because, yes, heart had really come to the party.
And now it pounded so hard and fast, I couldn’t breathe deeply. The most fucked-up part? I didn’t know who had betrayed me more. The gut-wrenching pain in my sternum gave me some idea, but I couldn’t go there. My go-to fight-or-flight instinct couldn’t even kick in, because who was I fighting? Who or what was I fleeing?
Both of them. This place. All of it. Scrambling out from under the sheet, I kept the pillow in front of me as I walked around the bed. Let them both watch my ass on my way out, because it was the last they’d see of it.
“I think your memory is fading, old man,” Jeremy said.
“And yours is twisted, you psychopath,” Leo seethed.
Get out. Leave. That’s all that mattered. Survival mode was rising to the surface by leaps and bounds, and I refused to look at either of them as I passed.
Jeremy’s hand clasped around my arm and pulled me tight to his side.
“Why?” he asked, his voice a whisper. “How could you just spread your legs for a lying lowlife criminal?” he said, close to my face.
I’d never truly been afraid of Jeremy. Intimidated by him, yes. But this—this was something very different. Actual physical need to escape his presence spread over my skin in a damp chill.
“I almost married one,” I said, putting every ounce of repulsion I could muster into my words. “What’s the fucking difference?”
Jeremy’s eyes flashed with a split moment of hurt, and for that second I was glad. It was an awful thing to feel, but I didn’t care. I yanked my arm free and kept walking before I could dare to look at Leo. I had so many thoughts I wanted to hurl in his direction, but I—I just couldn’t look him in the eye and have it all confirmed.
My eyes burned with tears as I snatched clothes off the floor. The bra Leo had taken off me with the shirt. The shorts I’d let him peel down. The shoes I’d kicked off. My underwear was forever lost somewhere in his bed, but I wasn’t going back in there.
Not ever.
“Look at you now,” Jeremy said, coming up behind me. Cold chills went down my back as I wheeled around. “Picking up after yourself like a whore in heat.”
“Fuck you,” I hissed. “How—how can you be this person? I don’t even know you.”
His eyes panned me. “I could say the same about you.”
“Get the fuck out of my apartment,” Leo said, coming up behind him like an angry bear.
“Gladly,” Jeremy said, with one last glare at me before walking out, the door still open behind him.
I stared at the empty doorway, at the mess around me, anything other than the man standing just two feet away.
“Micah.”
No.
Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as the sound of Leo saying my name sent stabs of pain through my middle. Less than thirty minutes ago, he was whispering my name against my lips, against my skin, roaring it through a monster orgasm. Now—I headed for the door, taking the pillow with me, not caring that my ass was still bared.
“Micah, please,” he said, closing the space behind me. “Let me explain.”
“Stop—”
“You don’t know all the—”
“And why is that?” I cried, spinning around. The stricken look on his face when he saw my tears nearly buckled my knees, but no. I would not be managed. Not anymore. “Granted, you tried to tell me before—” I clamped my lips together hard to stem the emotion threatening to swamp me. I swallowed and took a deep breath. “That’s on me. I’ll give you that. But you’ve had plenty of chances to tell me.”
“I never did what he’s accusing me—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, my voice shaking. “I don’t care what you did or didn’t do back then, Leo. I care that you looked me straight in the eye—more than once—and lied to me.”
“Micah—”
“You saw him when we went to the house,” I said. “He saw you. He even said something, and you denied it.” Leo’s troubled expression swam before me. “And how many times since?” I frowned as another thought—a horrible thought—an evil, hideous thought poked into my brain. “Or did you already know?” I asked on a whisper. “Did you know who I was when I got on your bike? When—”
“No,” he said firmly.
I laughed as I blinked the tears free. “How would I know that? How do I know anything? How do I know you weren’t there in town stalking him, or wanting to get back at him, and hey…there’s his runaway bride…wouldn’t she be outstanding in that capacity?”
Leo’s eyes narrowed. “You think I’m that diabolical?”
I leaned in. “I have no idea,” I said slowly.
The look that flashed over his face was pain. I’d struck a nerve. Well—I didn’t need to care about that either, because every one of my damn nerves was shredded and left for dead.
“I never wanted to keep lying to you,” he said.
“Was there a gun to your head?”
“He framed me, Micah,” Leo said, his jaws twitching. “He and his cousin—” He blew out a frustrated breath and raked his hair back. “Yes, I was an idiot and a criminal and greedy—all of that. I told you that. But they were fucking insane.”
“I—I don’t care, Leo,” I said. I was shutting down. I could feel it.
“You have to care,” he said, raising his voice. His hands went to hold my face but I pulled away. He blinked and met my eyes, and I saw defeat sink in as he recognized the pulling away in mine. “Okay. Well, let me just tell you this. I’m sorry you feel betrayed right now, but you should be thanking whatever instincts made you run. Because that guy at twenty-one did things to Andrea that would keep you up at night. And he set his own house on fire right in front of me, to prove a point.”
“What?”
“With my lighter,” he said. “And then threatened to frame Nick for it or hurt him or his—” He shook his head as if pushing that away. “Micah, I’ve lived every day since, trying to protect my brother by staying out of this shit’s shadow. Because he’s just crazy enough to follow through.”
My head swam so fast, I thought I would be sick. I flashed to Jeremy’s drunken mumble at Thatcher’s.
When you take the girl, there has to be consequences.
I closed my eyes, feeling the hot tears streak down my face. What kind of person doesn’t know who they live with? Who they share a bed with?
“When I saw him the other day, all that mattered was getting you away from him,” Leo said. “I didn’t want you all up in this.”
“Once again,” I said, feeling all the strength draining from my bones, “that’s my job. Not yours.”
“Why?” he said, shoving the word through his teeth. “Are you so fucking invincible that you can’t use a little help? Why are you so stubborn?”
I tore my eyes from his and turned away. Focused on one step at a time as the heat from his gaze burned through my back. Or my bare ass. Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. It took me six steps to get to my door, a full minute to search for my door key in my wadded-up shorts, another ten seconds to nod blindly at Wanda as she stopped short coming down the hall with a fresh package of toilet paper.
“Are you okay, honey?” she asked, looking alarmed as her eyes panned my—um—appearance.
“I’m fine,” I sniffed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she said, looking toward Leo’s door. “Did he—”
“No,” I said. “It’s—” I shook my head and jabbed my key in the lock blindly. “It’s just time for me to probably go back home.” I drew a shaky breath as the lock finally gave way and I could turn the knob. “I think.”
“Micah, honey,” Wanda began.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” I said, attempting a smile as I shut the door behind me and turned the lock.
That click hit me like a wall, and with no one to hide it from, the flood took over. I sank to my knees, dropping everything in my arms except the pillow, and I let the sobs wrack my body as I cried into it.
* * * *
I hadn’t cried yet. Not really. Not like that. Not a gut-twisting, from-the-soul, ugly crying till your eyes swell closed and you’re choking on your own snot kind of cry. I’d never felt the need to. Not over Jeremy, not over the sad state of my life, my lack of a home or car—not anything really other than a few tears my first night in town.
I definitely made up for that.
Crying so hard that I passed out cold on the floor from exhaustion.
I guess I was due? Or could it be that being blatantly betrayed by a man I instantly—instantly—trusted and evidently fell for at a bungee-jumping-off-a-cliff degree hit me at every level.
The banging on the door pulled me out of it.
“Fuck!” I choked, my voice channeling a two-pack-a-day smoker.
I jolted up, not knowing what made me do the jolting, drool covering one cheek and my skull trying to revolt. Was I hung over? It certainly felt that way. My eyes wouldn’t open. They were stuck, and rubbing them reminded me why.
I pried one golf-ball-sized eye open and blinked, looking down. I was sitting on the floor still naked from the waist down. I moaned and dove back into my pillow, feeling like a jilted teenager.
“Micah!” came a voice with the banging this time, making me jump again.
“Shit,” I muttered, getting to my feet while holding my head. “Hang on,” I croaked. “Have to find—there they are.”
I pulled on my shorts and opened the door to Gabi, who stepped back a step.
“Ho—ly shit,” she said.
“Whatever, come in,” I said, turning back into the room and leaving the door open. “I have to find my eye drops. Give me a second.”
“What happened to you?” she asked, following me to my bedroom.
“I had sex with Leo,” I said, trying to clear the gravel out of my throat.
“And—he threw you out the window?” she asked.
“No, I just—” I stared at my bed. It looked like any other bed. It looked just like Leo’s bed. They probably got them in a two-for-one sale. “Jeremy came—”
“While you were having sex?”
“After,” I said. What was I doing? Oh yeah, eye drops. I pulled open a drawer where I kept bathroom things and half-heartedly rummaged. “But we were still naked, so it might as well have been. Hell, he could have been in the living room the whole time, for that matter.”
“So—because—how did he get in?” she stammered.
“Leo’s door was open.”
Gabi blew out a breath. “Can you start at the beginning?”
I closed my swollen eyes. “Door was open when I got there, sex, talk, Jeremy, yelling.” I took a shaky breath as I felt the emotion coming back on. “I left.” Something odd caught my eye. No sunlight on the other side of the blinds. “It’s dark?”
“Girl, it’s after nine o’clock,” Gabi said.
“What?”
“And I’ve been calling you for hours,” she continued. “I didn’t worry much about it until I talked to my mom and she said she saw you half naked and crying in the hallway and talking about leaving, so I drove over here as fast as I could.”
I turned to look at her. She’d known me all of a week and was already a better friend than I’d probably ever had.
“Thank you,” I said. “For checking on me. I—kind of had a meltdown and then I guess I fell asleep. Why were you calling earlier?”
“To tell you that that Mr. Bailey guy approved my business plan!” she said. “Sully told me at the booth after you left.”
“I didn’t even know you finished it,” I said.
“Didn’t want to jinx it,” she said. “I had it done and e-mailed to Sully as fast as I could type. And evidently he sent it just as fast. So I’m going to rent the acreage, and he’s funding my land preparation…but that’s not the topic of discussion right now,” she added, climbing on my bed and crossing her legs yoga style.
“Please, can it be?” I asked, sinking onto the bed. “My head is pounding.”
“That’s because you cried yourself dehydrated,” she said, getting back up. She pointed at the bed. “Sit. All the way up there. In fact, lie down. I’m getting you some water and some aspirin. And then you’re going to tell me what happened.”
“I don’t—”
“Sit.”
I obeyed, turning to crawl up and lean against the headboard, pulling a pillow against my chest. When she returned and sat cross-legged facing me, I spilled it the best I could, crying again through some of it. Okay, most of it.
“So, he used to be a thief,” Gabi said when I was done.
“That’s all you got out of this?”
“I’m compartmentalizing,” she said. “One thing at a time.”
“Yes,” I said, nodding. “But some of that was for survival.”
“Robbing rich people’s houses?”
“I said some,” I said. “He also got caught up in the thrill of it, probably.”
“So you’re defending him.”
I huffed out a breath. “No. I’m just—”
“You’re just upset that he didn’t tell you about his connection to Jeremy,” she said.
“Yes!” I said. “Wouldn’t you be?”
“Yes, but—”
“How can there be a but in that?” I asked. “How would you not feel completely—tricked or violated?”
“Because he’d only known you, what—a day and a half, maybe two, when we went to the house?” she said. “Seriously, would you have spilled all at that point if it were you? Or would you have just gotten the hell out of there?”
I inhaled in deeply and let it go, slowly, feeling the air leave my lungs.
“And since then?”
She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth and looked at me as though gauging my reaction. “Since then, it’s only been a week, babe. Maybe a heavy-duty, fast-moving week, but it sounds like when it became important, he tried.”
Would it change my mind about being naked with you right now?
It might.
I clasped my fingers together so tightly that it hurt.
“Now you’re defending him?”
She grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“Can we talk about the field, now?” I asked.
Gabi sighed. “Okay, but I’d rather do it when you’re feeling better,” she said. “And not in a cry-coma hangover.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Yeah,” Gabi said. “You are just the poster child for fine right now.”
Maybe not, but I needed distraction. “Field?”
She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Don’t leave,” she said. “Not yet, anyway. Think about it when you aren’t distraught. What are your plans when your…honeymoon…is over?” she asked, cringing a little.
“Go back to work,” I said, casting my eyes down. “I can’t stay here across the hall from Leo, and I can’t drive an hour back and forth every day, anyway. Why?”
“Because what if you had a job here?” she asked.
“In the florist shop?” I smiled. “Gabi, I love you, but I’d rather chop off my feet than work retail.”
“Actually, I wanted to see what you thought about something,” she said, pausing. I stared at her and gestured to keep going. I didn’t have any witty banter left. “Like, maybe making the wildflower field a joint venture thing with Cherrydale Flower Farm, and you being my partner.”
She covered her mouth with her hands like she couldn’t believe what had just fallen out. I felt my jaw drop even before my brain could fully process what she’d just said. I was operating a little slowly, but invisible hands started pulling back the curtains.
“Say—what?”
“I know,” she said, sitting up fully and pulling her legs under her like she needed to be taller. “We’ve known each other only a week, too. And I realize I just downplayed that, so this may not be the right tack, but I just can’t help but think that we would be perfect running this together.” She stopped for a breath, and my brain replayed it before she started again. Because—“I have the business knowledge, and you’re like Mother Earth, and I’d have to talk to Drew and my parents about how we’d do it, I’m thinking no retail, just all wholesale to Grahams and any other florist, and you’d have to talk to your brother about percentage, and he might say no and they—”
“Yes.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Absolutely.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
The sound of a siren whined in the background, barely noticeable.
“I mean, I’d have to talk to Thatcher,” I said, already nodding. “And we’d—have a lot of hurdles. And work.” My brain was checking off lists and making more at the same time. “But something—” My eyes filled with tears for only the sixty-seventh time today. “Something of our own, that we are passionate about. That—”
“No man, no anything—can take away,” she finished.
The siren grew closer, and oddly sounded joined by a second one.
“That,” I breathed.
Gabi’s eyes misted over, too. She held up a fist for me to bump.
“That,” she echoed.
I frowned as both sirens got really loud.
“Is that normal for here?” I asked. “That sounds really close.”
“Not really,” she said, getting up. “Let’s see.”
I slipped on my wooden clunkers and we walked downstairs. The smell, however, reached my nose before we ever even opened the door.
“Something’s burn—” I began, and my words caught in my chest. Gabi’s eyes met mine. “Oh, God, Gabi, something’s burning.”