Two of a Kind
“About what the mayor said,” she began.
“I know what Carter thinks,” he started.
“You go first,” she murmured.
He walked toward the kitchen, then turned back to face her. “The mayor’s right. Carter needs stability.”
Felicia felt herself starting to bubble up with happiness. She was truly going to have it all. A man she loved, a child and a place to belong. Because the town had come through, not just for her, but for all of them. First, with the festival and then, tonight. As long as they lived in Fool’s Gold, they would always have a community that cared.
“This relationship is confusing him,” Gideon continued. “In the morning I’ll explain it was never going to happen. Us getting married. I asked for your help and you were there for me, Felicia. I appreciate that. I don’t want to stand in your way. I know you want to find the right guy and settle down, and that’s not going to happen with me.”
The pain was so sharp it almost didn’t hurt. It was more concept than sensation. But the promise of agony whispered at the very edges of her consciousness, and she knew she didn’t have long until she would be nothing more than an open wound.
“You want me to leave.”
She wasn’t asking a question, and a part of her was surprised she could still speak.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
He was trying to make this about her, to be the nice guy. But it wasn’t and he wasn’t. He wanted her gone because he didn’t believe he could be like everyone else. She’d always known that. Why had she allowed herself to forget?
She remembered telling Consuelo she wouldn’t mind a broken heart. That she would appreciate having been in love and would accept the consequences. Her friend had warned her, but she hadn’t listened. She’d been so sure she would be fine. She hadn’t known what this could feel like.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” Gideon said. “You need to get some sleep. You’re exhausted.”
Sleep? She would never sleep.
“No,” she told him. “I’m leaving now.”
“Felicia, no. It’s late.”
He moved toward her, but she stepped away. She couldn’t stand to have him touch her. No, she thought, shuddering. She desperately wanted him to touch her, and when he did, she would lose the little strength she had left. She would want to beg and plead, to prepare diagrams and flow charts explaining why he was wrong. Why this was so right for all of them.
Carter. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was going to have to tell him goodbye.
She would pack first, she thought. Complete the task and then tell him. She would make it clear he would always be welcome in her life and her home. That he could come stay with her, that they would talk every day.
Tears burned, but she refused to give in. That was for later. For now, she had to keep moving.
* * *
CARTER SAGGED AGAINST the hallway wall. Disappointment made it hard to swallow. He was out of ideas, he thought sadly. Out of ways to make Gideon see what was important.
He turned and walked to his bedroom, where he quickly collected his computer and a few clothes. The rest could wait. He didn’t think Gideon would care if he came back and got it later. After zipping up his backpack, he walked down the hallway to the master suite.
Gideon stood outside the door. “You don’t have to do this,” he said.
Carter didn’t hear Felicia answer, but he guessed it was something along the lines of not having a choice.
Carter moved past him and walked into the bedroom. Felicia looked up.
“Carter, what are you...” Her gaze settled on the backpack. “You heard.”
He nodded.
“You don’t have to leave, Carter. This is your home. Gideon is your father. He wants you with him.”
“If he can’t love you, he can’t love me, either. I’m a kid, Felicia. I need to be where the love is.” His heart stopped as he realized she might have just been saying the words rather than meaning them. “If you want me.”
“Oh, Carter. I love you. Of course you can come live with me.”
He didn’t remember moving, but suddenly she was holding him and he was hanging on and neither of them was going to let go. He’d wanted it all—a set of parents and a home, but two out of three wasn’t bad.
CHAPTER TWENTY
GIDEON WAITED UNTIL dawn to go running. He’d wanted to leave earlier but knew the stupidity of heading up the mountain while it was still dark. He would take responsibility for breaking his neck but didn’t see the point in needing a second rescue party in less than twenty-four hours.
As soon as the sun cleared the top of the mountain, he was out and moving. He drove himself hard, quickly breaking out in a sweat and breathing hard.
The uneven terrain challenged his body but left his mind free to wander. Free to think and speculate. What were they doing now?
He’d spent the night wandering the house. He’d tried to sleep a few times but hadn’t been successful. The place he’d once seen as his haven was too large, too empty. The quiet had pressed in on him until he’d wanted to be anywhere else.
He tripped over uneven ground and went down on one knee. The sharp pain sent him back to his feet and he kept running. Blood trickled down his leg but he ignored it, ignored all of it. He could outrun anything. That was what he had to believe.
They were gone because he’d asked them to go. It was the right decision. He couldn’t be what either Carter or Felicia needed. There wasn’t enough left. He should be happy, or at least relieved.
But he wasn’t. He was empty and hollow. He was as broken as he had ever been, and he was a man who had been to the edge of hell. He’d been dragged out of a prison cell maybe days or even hours before he would have died. He had bled into the ground of his captors’ prison, and he would never be able to forget that. No matter what he thought or how he felt, he couldn’t allow that to touch anyone else. Especially not Felicia or Carter.
Sometime later, exhausted and dripping sweat, he made his way back to his house. As he stepped out of the trees, he saw his truck parked in the driveway.
For a second he allowed himself to hope she’d returned. She’d taken his truck last night because they’d left her car in town. But as he approached the vehicle, he knew she hadn’t been there at all. She would have sent Justice with either Ford or Angel to return it. She would take care of business. Take care of her responsibilities. But she wouldn’t be back.
* * *
FELICIA REACQUAINTED HERSELF with her kitchen. She’d been at Gideon’s so long her rental had ceased to be her home. As she opened cupboards and checked the pantry, she realized she was missing most of the cooking gadgets she’d grown to love. And the space itself was way too small.
She’d rented the small townhouse back before she’d known if she could make a home in Fool’s Gold. It was a simple, furnished two-bedroom unit with a small living room/dining room combination. The furniture was modern and masculine. The owner, a lawyer-type businessman named Dante Jefferson, had recently moved into a house with his new wife.
She heard footsteps on the stairs. Carter walked into the kitchen, still rubbing his eyes. He wore a baggy T-shirt and PJ bottoms. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were puffy.
“Get any sleep?” she asked.
“Some.”
He’d obviously been crying, but she wasn’t going to mention that.
“Are you hungry?” She walked to the refrigerator and pulled it open. “There’s nothing here, so I thought we’d go out for breakfast, then stop by the grocery store. Also, I want to talk to you about us moving. I rented this place when it was just me. I think we need a larger space. More living area and a bigger bedroom for you. Maybe a yard for a dog.”
He stared at her. “You’re really keeping me.” He sounded surprised.
“Carter, I told you last night that you can stay with me. I’m all in.”
“I’m all in, too.” He glanced around. “This place is nice, but the kitchen is too small. Where will you put all your cooking stuff?”
“I know.”
He shifted on his feet. “Can you afford something bigger? Because this place is fine if you can’t.”
She squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t worry about money. I’ve been earning my way since I was only a little older than you. I developed a few patents years ago. In addition to my salary, I get very nice licensing checks every quarter and semiannual royalty checks from technical books I’ve written.”
His eyes brightened. “Are you rich?”
“No, but we can afford a larger house.”
“Cool!” He raced to the stairs. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”
She leaned against the counter and told herself that everything would be fine. She was strong and capable, and she had a support system. As soon as her friends found out what had happened, they would surround her with love and encouragement. And, most likely, casseroles.
She had no empirical evidence for her supposition, but she believed it down to her bones. Until then, until she was brave enough to let them know she’d been desperately wrong about Gideon and her ability to handle a broken heart, she would focus on Carter. On getting him settled with her and figuring out how to keep breathing through the pain of missing the only man she’d ever loved.
* * *
ON THE THIRD day, Gideon went into town. Without Felicia and Carter with him, he felt exposed, but that was the point. He was ready to take what was coming. To have the stones thrown at him. He knew he’d been a bastard and he deserved the punishment.
He’d hurt Felicia. He’d thought only of himself, of what he wanted, and never considered her feelings. He wasn’t sure exactly what she’d wanted or expected, but it hadn’t been to be dumped with no warning. He owed her an apology. Barring that, he should stay the hell out of her life. In the meantime, he fully expected the town to take her side.
He walked by the park and thought about stopping in Brew-haha. Patience was Felicia’s friend. She would sure have something to say to him. But before he got there, he spotted Eddie and Gladys, who waved cheerfully and kept on walking. A few other citizens nodded as he passed, some called out greetings.
No one was pissed. No one yelled. He couldn’t think of why, except that maybe Felicia hadn’t said anything yet.
His chest ached at the thought of her going through this alone. While he wasn’t sure if she’d fallen in love with him, he knew she cared. Felicia didn’t hold back anything. So she had to be hurting. She needed someone to talk to. He had to speak to Patience and make sure she knew.
He turned and walked toward the coffeehouse. When he was across the street, Justice stepped out and moved toward him.
The other man’s stride was purposeful, and Gideon knew this meeting wasn’t accidental. Justice had been waiting. Justice, who considered Felicia a sister.
There was going to be hell to pay, Gideon thought, more than ready to take whatever the other man offered. He wouldn’t defend himself. He would accept it, and maybe when it was over, he would feel better.
Justice stopped in front of him. “Come on,” he said, pointing down the street. “We need to talk.”
Gideon nodded and fell into step with him. He didn’t know where they were headed, and he didn’t care. Maybe back to CDS where Justice could work him over in the quiet of the gym. Or somewhere in the woods. He wasn’t concerned. There was nothing Justice could do that hadn’t been done to him already times a thousand, and in this case, he deserved it.
But instead of a dark alley—something tough to find in Fool’s Gold on a Wednesday afternoon—Justice stepped into Jo’s Bar and led the way into the back room.
Gideon avoided Jo’s. Too many people, too many lights, and during the day, a play area for small children. Justice walked past all that. When he stopped, they were in a much smaller space. One with only a couple of windows up high on the wall. Flat-screen TVs were tuned to ESPN and a car auction. A couple of old guys sat at the bar, nursing beers.
“What can I get you?” the man behind the bar asked.
He looked familiar, but it took him a second to place the old guy. “Morgan? Shouldn’t you be at your bookstore?”
“I will be,” the white-haired man said with a smile. “I have some work to do here, first.”
Justice took a seat on one of the stools. “What they’re having.”
Morgan poured two beers and pushed the glasses across the bar. Justice took one. Gideon ignored the other.
“You brought me here for a reason,” he said.
Morgan nodded. “Good. You’re not stupid. I’d hate to think of Felicia with an idiot.”
Gideon felt his mouth drop open. “You know Felicia?”
“Sure. She comes to my store all the time. She likes to read paper books rather than electronic books. I like that in a woman.” Morgan’s smile returned. “She has eclectic tastes.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Justice murmured.
Morgan rolled up his sleeve, exposing a tattoo of a girl in a bikini. “Got that in the Philippines. They do good work. That was after my time in Vietnam. Tough place to be for a farm kid from Georgia. Hell, before Uncle Sam drafted me, I’d never been past the county line.”
“My brother went over there, too,” one of the old guys said. “My number never got called.” He gave a grin and picked up his beer.
Whatever was going on, Gideon wasn’t interested. He started to get up. Justice clamped his hand around Gideon’s forearm, holding him in place.
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