A Perfect Mess (6 page)

“It was more than the glass. My tires were slashed. I had to have it towed and repaired over at Simmons Garage.”

He sat up straighter, that lazy look gone from his eyes. “Which would bring you into town.”

I went still. His eyes met mine, and a chill of foreboding swept over my skin despite the heat of the day.

“Your tires hadn’t been slashed yet when I left last night, which means it was done later. I don’t like that. Someone came back when you were there alone.”

I didn’t like the sound of that either, but vandalism was rare in Suttontowne.

“You need to give the sheriff that information, Aubree. In fact, I’ll walk you over there, and then to the garage.”

“Will you hold my hand, too, when I cross the street?” I asked, going for a teasing grin.

His eyes heated, as if he was more than willing to hold anything I’d let him. “You think I’m overreacting?”

“You’re cute when you overreact.”
Oh, shit
.
Had I said that out loud?
“You said it yourself. Kids and pranks,” I murmured, desperately wanting to have the strength to resist this, resist him.

“Hey, Aubree. You flirtin’ with me?”

He would have to point out my lapse. Daniel had rattled me more than I thought. “Just making an observation. Like you don’t know you’re gorgeous.” I wanted to smack myself in the head. Really, I needed to stop talking now.

“Oh, I know gorgeous.” He smiled, his intent gaze didn’t leave mine, and I felt the need to fan myself. Did he think
I
was gorgeous? Was it getting hotter out here?

His smile broadened, and I realized I’d had no idea what I’d been missing when I thought back to the boy who’d watched me in silence all those times in our past. Maybe I had known I couldn’t handle him back then. I couldn’t imagine what had made me think I could handle him now.

My dreams were the only place I could do all the things I wanted to with Booker Outlaw. And that’s the way it was going to stay. Had to stay.

Oh, crap. Maybe.

He looked too much like he was reading my expression and my mind. He shrugged. “I don’t know about it being kids and pranks. You’re the mathematician. When stuff starts to add up…”

“It’s not guaranteed it’s the correct answer,” I said.

“And yet your aunt is in the hospital, and I know the sheriff thinks she was attacked and hadn’t simply fallen down the stairs.”

“What are you saying? You think someone targeted my aunt?”

“Maybe so, maybe not. But it’s best not to ignore this. Just talk to the sheriff.”

“My aunt is the sweetest woman. Who would want to harass her? And why?”

“I don’t know.”

In the back of my mind, in that panicky part that I kept isolated, I wondered if this had anything to do with Damien Langston. But I dismissed it. No one else knew. Only Booker, and he’d promised me he would never tell.

Why I believed him is another thing I didn’t want to look at too closely.

“All right. I’ll tell him about it so he is aware, but I think it’s just vandalism.”

That seemed to make Booker happy. When I turned to go, he came up beside me. “Don’t forget about my number, Aubree.”

“I won’t. Thank you for stepping in with Daniel. He can be such a jerk.”

Once again I was caught off-guard by the sheer power of a man. And I didn’t take for granted the fact that Booker was a force to be reckoned with. He’d stood up to Daniel so easily, the muscles in his arms bulging, the power in his back and legs evident. I was simply reacting to my own instincts and some primitive survival of the fittest drive. I’d stick with Booker any day. I’d also seen him in full-out fight mode. He was…magnificent. He didn’t even know I’d seen him that day from my hiding place behind the bleachers. It was something that I tried not to think about. I hadn’t exactly been brave that day, and the guilt of what I had seen and how I had reacted afterwards still haunted me. I wondered fleetingly if I should tell him that secret, but decided it was a bad idea. There wasn’t any reason for him to know.

He nodded, apparently still reluctant to leave me. It was in his eyes. I smiled at him to relieve the worry I was sure he was hiding. “Take care, Booker.”

“You, too. Oh, and Aubree? Why can’t I be both?”

“What both?”

“A word-master and interesting. Bad and good. The world isn’t all black and white. People don’t have to be one thing or another. They can sometimes be both.”

I said nothing, just stood there for a long moment, awareness arcing between us like electricity. Booker made his own rules and probably broke them just as easily. He joked about the system, derided the people who tried to make it work. And he stepped in like my personal hero when a bully was pestering me.

But I was back in control—if not of him, at least of myself. That wasn’t denial. Uh-uh. Nope. Not at all.

He watched me, his eyes a dark, bottomless blue. I felt as if those eyes were reaching right into my soul. He smiled broadly again, a smile that held all kinds of promise. Promises, I suspected, with a little jump in my belly, that he could keep. Abruptly, I turned towards the Sheriff’s Office.

Could my aunt have a stalker?

Or had my past come back to haunt me and hurt her?

#

The sheriff had been sympathetic and interested in the news about my tires. He told me he would send a patrol around my place periodically. He also made sure I had his direct dial.

I walked to Simmons Garage just as the rain started. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait. My car was ready. I paid, thanking Mrs. Simmons, who asked after Aunt Lottie, told me I was too thin, and insisted I take some bourbon brownies with me. After my run-in with Booker and Daniel Langston, I kinda needed both alcohol and chocolate, so I didn’t protest too much. When I came out, Booker’s cool car was gone.

I refused to feel the disappointment that slid down through me. I had better things to do with my time than spar with him, and I had to believe he had better things to do, too. I hadn’t missed that tidbit of information that Booker was a bestselling author, and it explained how he could afford that gorgeous Mustang. I was really intrigued. I would have to ask him about it if I ever got the chance.

You’d get the chance if you went to his party.

Yeah. That would definitely give me an opportunity to talk to him. Part of me wanted to go, especially after our conversation in the diner about work and fun, but the rational part of me held back. Maybe I wasn’t capable of having fun.

I did have to admit with a smile that he had made me see work in a whole new light.

I pulled up outside the hospital, which was actually in Lafayette. Our small town had an old doctor who handled most ailments, but for more serious stuff we had to travel. I made sure to turn off my cell phone in observance of the hospital’s rules.

As soon as I entered, I felt a sense of coming home. I had worked for Doc Rust in town and had fallen in love with medicine. I loved the idea of being able to help people who were ill feel better again, and the clean orderliness of it. I asked about my aunt at the front desk, and the clerk directed me up to the fourth floor. At another desk, I asked about my aunt again and was given her room number.

It was so quiet as I walked down the hall to her room that I could hear my heart pounding with anxiety. Pushing the door open, I saw her lying still and pale in bed. Her eyes were closed, and there was a machine monitoring her heart, an IV dripping fluid into her veins. My eyes welled with tears, all the emotions from my childhood rushing at me like a tornado-force wind, whirling my memories around me.

“Aubree?”

I started when I saw Booker. “Are you stalking me?” I asked, brushing quickly at the tears on my face.

“No. I just came to see your aunt.”

“What exactly is your relationship to her?”

“She’s my friend.”

“My aunt?” I said skeptically.

“Yes, we got to know each other better after you…”

“After I what?”

“Never mind.”

“You were going to say ‘ducked out on her,’ weren’t you?”

“No. Don’t put words in my mouth. Thanksgiving and Christmas were hard on her.”

“You know why I didn’t come home. I couldn’t.”

I didn’t want Booker to think I was a coward, but I hadn’t been able to face it so soon after what happened. I couldn’t force myself to look down Wild Magnolia Road, so visible from the balcony of my bedroom.

“It was wrong of you, Aubree.”

I flinched and shame crawled like spiders in my belly. That’s what my mother used to tell me. I couldn’t ever do anything right, ever. No matter how perfectly I behaved. So his words drove me crazy. I couldn’t stand being wrong, making mistakes. I felt slapped in the face, a stinging slap that only caused the guilt that was festering to rush out like a tidal wave. It washed over me and I felt completely drowned. But I knew he was right. I was terrible for not coming home when I could.

“You don’t get to judge me, Booker. I had my reasons and you know it. I called her on both holidays, but school was intense, and I was so busy. I needed to be busy,” I murmured, my throat tight, my voice breaking.

I don’t know what he saw when he looked at me, but his face changed, the look of remorse was thick in his eyes. “Damn, Aubree. I’m sorry. I’m reacting to my own internal crap. I just got my buttons pushed, but that’s no reason to dump on you. Yes, I understand why you didn’t come home. But your aunt didn’t. It hurt her.”

“I know,” I said as more tears leaked from my eyes. He stood and rushed over to me, then curled his arm around my shoulders, pulled me gently against his side. “Hey, sugar,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I resisted the urge to lean against him, straightening away instead, scrubbing at the embarrassment flushing my cheeks. “I’m not crying.” I sniffed and shook my head, smiling against the desire to cry. “That just kind of snuck up on me. I’m okay.” I nodded firmly, as if I had managed to convince myself at least, if not Booker.

“Why is it she never mentioned you?” I asked him, giving in to my curiosity and taking the chance that I was treading on good manners.

He met my look evenly, his dark eyes intense. “Do you mention everyone you’re acquainted with?”

“No, I guess not.”

He tipped his head boyishly, an irresistible smile canting his lips. “Did your aunt mention she’s sweet on the sheriff, for instance?”

“What?” I stared up at him and he smirked.

“She is, and I think he’s got a thing for her, too.” He waggled his brows.

“How do you know that?”

“Observation. She blushes when she talks to him, and touches his arm. I came right over to the hospital when I heard and he was here. He was…just staring at her, with all these regrets in his eyes. That’s when I figured it out.”

I moved away from him, suddenly embarrassed, and went over to the bed to take my aunt’s hand. She was only in her late forties, still quite pretty. The red of her hair, exactly the same shade as mine, was still vibrant. I could easily see what the sheriff found attractive about her.

My chest constricted and I squeezed her hand. “Come back to me Aunt Lottie,” I said softly.
Don’t leave me all alone.
That thought set off one of my most vivid memories. I was huddled in the corner, flush against the wall, afraid to move. My mother lay on the couch, and I had been unable to wake her up. I think my twelve-year-old brain knew she was dead, but I hadn’t wanted to accept it. The shock of knowing I was all alone in the world would have been too much. All of a sudden I was struck by the realization that I hadn’t loved my mother, but that the feeling of love was there for my aunt, welling up inside me from a warm, golden place that I’d forgotten.

Booker came over to me. “You’re not alone, Aubree.”

Startled by his insight, I looked at him. His sincere gaze met mine, reassuring and warm. “Thank you for saying that.” I appreciated his kindness, but all I had left of my family was here in this room. The loss of my aunt would be...devastating.

I sat down, setting Einstein beside the chair. Booker pulled another chair over to the bed and sat down next to me.

“You were reading to her?”

“Yes, it’s her favorite book. I heard that it’s good to stimulate someone in a coma by touch and sound, so I thought reading her favorite book to her would be a good idea.”

I smiled. He really was a contradiction. “It is a good idea. I had no idea that she loved Tolkien.”

“She loves Gandalf.”

It was both surreal and astonishing that Booker Outlaw, the guy that I had crushed on in high school, was sitting here telling me things about my aunt that I hadn’t known.