Blind Attraction (23 page)

“What? No way! I’m not letting you do that.”

“No.” She inhaled deep, filling her lungs for strength. “I need to. I started the blog to get over him, and it worked for a while but now every time I check my email I wonder if he’s left another message. And every time I start another post I wonder if he’ll read it.” She turned to Kate and gave a sad smile. “I need to delete the whole damn thing.”

Kate winced. “That sucks!” She moved closer, and scooted her ass onto Alana’s desk, sitting down to face her. “Why don’t you do a post on why sex toys are greater than a man? Or a certain guy in particular. I can buy you the rabbit vibrator I promised you for your break-up gift, and you can review it. Tell the world how only the finest medical grade silicone is better than the famous Mitchell Da—”

The house phone rang, and Kate scooted off the table. “We’ll finish this in a sec.”

Alana sighed and stared back at the words.
I miss you, Allie.
Her heart clenched. She missed him too.

With a deep breath she clicked onto the control panel of her blog and went to the settings tab. Kate had been kind enough to stop playing Reckless Beat’s music and removed memorabilia from view. The least Alana could do was take away the distractions on her end. There were only a few posts anyway. Nothing she couldn’t replicate when her memories of Mitchell faded.

She moved the mouse curser, hovered it over the Delete Blog button and paused.

“Alana?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Kate who stood in the doorway. Her face was troubled with a frown, her skin pale.

“What is it?” Her mouth dried. She stood, her legs shaking as she stumbled forward and grasped the outstretched phone.

“It’s Patty from your mom’s retreat. There’s been an accident.”

One week later

Mitch rubbed his eyelids, trying to massage away the tension. His life was hell. Not just a scorching inferno of uncomfortable existence, but a soul jarring, mood altering, fucked up actuality which made him want to crack open his ribcage with his own hands and scoop his own heart out with a spoon.

“We’re nearly home.” Blake spoke softly from his position next to Mitch on the jet’s leather sofa.

Home. He scoffed to himself. The thought of going to his empty Manhattan apartment gave him the chills. He didn’t know where home was anymore. Wasn’t it meant to be where his heart was? He’d unwittingly given it to Alana before he left Richmond...without getting the bastard back.

“I don’t want to go home.”

Blake didn’t say a word.

Mitch opened his eyes and glanced beside him, not surprised to see his friend staring back with an expression devoid of emotion.

“I’m going to go to Richmond with Mason.”

Blake nodded slowly. “Do you want company? I don’t have any plans for our down time.”

Mitch nudged his friend’s shoulder in the masculine, non-verbal way of showing thanks. “You think you can handle a few more days with me?”

Blake raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “I’ve already had my daily dose of revenge. I’ve been cleaning the hotel toilets with your toothbrush every night.”

A burst of laughter broke free and Mitch nudged him again, harder.

“So what’s the plan?”

He exhaled a slow breath. “I’m going to drive to Kate’s house and stay there until I get what I want.”

“Which is?”

“Alana.” He breathed her name and closed his eyes, letting the pussy-whipped sensation crash over him. “She’s all I want right now.”

“Well let’s go get her.”

Two hours later they pulled into Kate’s driveway. Mitch opened the passenger door and climbed out before the car stopped. Night had firmly set in, and the streets were quiet. Lights were on in the house but eleven o’clock was still pretty late to show up unannounced.

He pounced up the steps leading to the porch in one jump and knocked loud on the door. His heart hammered, thumping and pounding behind his rib cage. He couldn’t wait to see her, even if she greeted him with hostility. He would be patient. She deserved a thorough apology and if she didn’t accept his words, he would make sure he spent more time to convince her of his sincerity.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and he glanced over his shoulder to where Blake sat in the car with his arm resting on the driver’s side window frame. “Someone’s coming.”

Blake gave a thumbs-up and turned up the music, his subtle way of telling Mitch he wouldn’t listen in on their conversation. Not that Mitch cared. He wouldn’t hide his feelings for Alana again.

The door locks clicked in release and the heavy wood creaked open. The bright light from the hallway pierced his eyes, and he blinked to focus on who stood in front of him.

“Mitch?”

“Hey, Kate.” He wiped his palms on his black jeans to remove the sweat. “How are you?” He held no interest in the answer. His chest grew tighter with every passing second.

“Fine,” she scrutinized him.

“Can I speak to Alana?” He glanced behind her, hoping to catch a glimpse of long brown hair and light green eyes.

“Umm…no sorry…you can’t.” Her hesitant words triggered an alarm which sent his nerves into a panic.

“I-Is she out on a date?” He was fucking stuttering. The thought of her alone with another man made him nauseous. “I can come back tomorrow… Or wait around.” Yeah, he could wait around for the inevitable kiss at the front door. That would be awesome.

“No. She’s not here at all.” His stomach roiled. “She went back home.” And there went his balls, nose-diving into the porch floor.

“Why? I thought she wanted to start a new life? I-I thought she was happy here?”

Kate raised her eyebrows and for the first time he noticed the disapproval in her expression.

“Maybe if you called her, she would’ve told you about it.”

He deserved that. “Is she coming back?”

Her frown deepened and she crossed her arms over her chest, ramping up her breasts even though he tried not to notice. “Not my place to tell, and even if it was, I wouldn’t go out of my way to make getting in contact with her easier for you. You. Have. Her. Number.” She punctuated every word with a tilt of her head.

“Gotcha. You despise me and don’t want to see me back with her.” He shook his head in defeat and turned toward the porch stairs.

“Wait.” Her command lacked conviction and he contemplated not turning back at all. “I don’t hate you.”

He swiveled on his toes and gave a sorry smile. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“Well, you did. Bad. And that shit isn’t fixed with a flash of your famous smile or by leaving a four-word blog comment.”

He winced. His regret had doubled every day that Alana hadn’t replied to his stupid message.

“What you need is some kneepads to grovel and expensive jewelry. Very expensive, Mitchell Davies.”

He chuckled and bowed his head in acceptance. “Duly noted... So does that mean you’ll give me her address?”

“Not on your life.”

* * *

Alana lay on her bed, staring at the flaking white paint on her ceiling. Exhaustion consumed her bones, every muscle ached, and her heart beat with a lazy melancholy. A knock at the door yanked her from the self pity, and she swiped a rough hand over the stray tear gliding down her cheek.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mother gave a sad smile and strolled into the room. “Everything packed?”

Alana nodded. “Most of it, anyway.”

She hadn’t planned to come home. Her emotions were still raw from betrayal. Yet, as soon as she received the phone call saying her mom was in hospital, she rushed to catch the next flight back to Colorado. “How’s the arm?”

Her mom lifted the wrist covered in plaster and shrugged with a wince. “Not as sore as my chest.”

She had a broken ulna and three fractured ribs. All from falling backward while climbing out of the tractor. Alana had been skeptic about the accident at first. For over a week her mom had refused to talk to her about the information the Bowens had shared. She would neither confirm nor deny that her father had paid for the property they currently lived on, or that he’d sent money every fortnight until Alana turned eighteen.

She wouldn’t discuss the relationship she’d once had with Chris Bowen and refused to acknowledge his existence. Well, she refused until she had no choice but to answer from the restriction of her hospital bed.

“I guess karma is finally coming to claim vengeance.” Her mom gave a derisive chuckle and sat down on the end of the bed.

Sympathy overwhelmed her. Her mother’s emotional scars had always been visible to anyone who knew her well enough. Why hadn’t Alana noticed how deep they ran? “No.” Alana spoke softly. “I don’t think that’s the case at all.”

Over the last few days they’d shared a million tears, discussed a lifetime worth of memories, and came out on the other side somewhat stronger. Her mother needed help and promised to go to counseling. The step in the right direction didn’t make up for a childhood full of lies, but it was a start.

“I can’t talk you into staying?”

“I’m sorry.” Alana shook her head. This wasn’t her home anymore. She couldn’t even look back on her past without a stab of deceit firing through her soul. She understood the reasons why her mother tried to change history, it would just take time and space to forgive. “I want to get to know the Bowens and maybe meet my father properly.”

Her mother pulled back in shock, then schooled her expression and stared down at the carpeted floor. She released a pained breath, glanced up, opened her mouth, and then focused on the carpet again.

The silence thickened and Alana gave her mom the time she needed to reply.

“I...” Her mother swallowed hard. “I know you don’t understand my fears and that you have your own life to lead. I’m just scared for you. I can’t sleep when you’re not here. I can’t think. I’m worried you’ll repeat my mistakes. I’m petrified some man will hurt my baby.”

Alana scooted forward on the bed and grabbed her mom’s undamaged hand, squeezing tight. “I know you’re scared. You’re my mom, you’re meant to worry about me. But I’m not a child. I need to build my own life and make my own future.”

Her mother glanced up with glassy eyes.

“I want to fall in love and get married and have babies. I’d love to work in a city and have my own studio. There are so many things I want, and I’ve been cut short on the opportunity to get them.”

Alana followed the trail of tears falling down her mom’s cheeks as she nodded. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I will be. I’m scared too, and I’ve already been heartbroken by a man, believe it or not.” She shrugged. “Feeling heartbroken is better than feeling nothing at all.”

Her mother’s posture straightened and she frowned. “The musician broke your heart?”

“A little,” she lied.

The sharp trill of an incoming call sounded. She grabbed the cell off her pillow and rejected the call without checking the ID. “Maybe you could come visit me in Richmond.”

The blood seeped from her mother’s face, turning her skin a shade of white. “I... That will be hard for me, Alana... If you promise to be patient with me, I promise I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask for.”

They stared at each other in silence.

Her mother patted her hand gently and stood. “I’m going to let you finish packing before I turn into a blubbering mess.”

“Sounds like a plan.” It was already past nine and her body wouldn’t co-operate much longer without rest. Her mom strolled to the door and paused in the hall.

“I know I told you I’m going to try and change, and I promise to give it my all. Just keep in mind a lot of the women here are still sensitive. I need you to make sure the men coming with the removalist truck don’t go anywhere near the main house?”

Alana nodded. “I’ve already told them I’ll meet them at the properties entrance and escort them in.” She also informed the retreat residents that there would be men on the property tomorrow. With her private cottage situated a couple hundred yards from the main house, nobody else should be disturbed.

“Oh, good.” Relief eased the lines of tension on her mother’s face. “I’ll see you at breakfast then.”

“Yeah, I’ll be up early.” Hopefully after her body had rested from the pulling, pushing, and packing of the past three days.

Her phone interrupted with another incoming call and her mom waved before disappearing down the hall. Alana gripped the cell in her hand and glanced down at the screen—
Private Number
. Someone with a private number was calling her after nine at night? The thought of talking to anyone right now made her exhaustion increase, so she rejected the call for a second time.

She planned on spending the next twenty-four hours packing the remainder of her belongings and saying goodbye to the women she considered her family. Switching her phone to silent, she lay back down on the mattress and fought to keep her eyes open. The rest of the world could wait for now.

Alana woke before the sun. As promised, she shared breakfast with her mom who fidgeted at the table. Her anxiety at having men on the property was clearly visible and no amount of consoling would calm her nerves.

A little before lunch, Alana met the moving truck at the front gate and led them down the gravel driveway in her mom’s car. The men were big and bulky, complete with the most well-defined arms in Colorado and manners her mother would appreciate if she would quit hiding and come to say hello. Interaction with the opposite sex would do the women good. Alana didn’t have a psychology degree, but shutting yourself away from men entirely didn’t seem healthy. Well, not for as long as her mother had anyway.