Burned (3 page)

Why would she ever let a guy like Jake go?

Topping the list of his great qualities was the fact that the guy was
smart
. I only had to listen to him and Max talk about some of their tougher classes to ascertain that.

She nodded. “I know. One or the other would be bad enough. Between the two, it’s been a rough year for him. I think his family cut him off. And
Darby called off the engagement shortly after that. On the other hand, I met his ex-fiancé once. I know she’s the one that called everything off but I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. She wasn’t very…” She scrunched up her face, trying to come up with a nice way to say something negative. “She wasn’t very likeable. We all went to dinner at the café and you could just tell she thought the place was totally beneath her. She barely said a word to Max or me. And you know how easygoing Max is. He couldn’t get her to engage in conversation at all. I just got the impression she really didn’t want to hang out with Jake’s friends.”

I nodded thoughtfully. My head was crammed full of questions. What had happened with Jake and his family? I couldn’t imagine him doing anything to get himself kicked out of his own family. He seemed like the smart, ambitious, level-headed son most parents would wish their children to be.

And Darby?

Something must be wrong with that girl.

I was a coward. And a liar. I admit it.

I left the house the following morning before Holly and Max were out of bed. I slipped into my car and cruised down the coastal highway. It was something I did often. It was something that always helped calm me. The expanse of endless ocean, its rippling waves and the vast sky always made me feel as if maybe, just maybe, my problems weren’t so big after all.

I had lost track of how many times I’d taken this mini road trip since I’d moved here.

I’d always roll the windows down. Let the wind have its way with my hair. I’d press my luck with the speed limit in my Camaro. It was a modern car, only a year old, painted a subtle dark blue. I thought my dad would approve. When he was my age, he’d had a Camaro too. I’d do just about anything to track down that car, even shave my head bare. But that car was long gone. Dad sold it when he and Mom found out she was pregnant with me so they could buy a practical sedan.

My slightly flashy mode of transportation was in homage to my dad, a man I didn’t even know. Had never even met.

Shortly after I left I sent Holly a text telling her and Max not to wait for me. They should head to the airport without me. I didn’t expand upon my explanation simply because I didn’t have one good enough to give her. I already felt deceitful enough. I’d led her to believe I was heading to Chamberlain. I’d packed my bags last night, sort of. I’d engaged in conversations about our plans when we returned to Minnesota.

I’d lied because it was easier than telling her the truth.

I had no intention of going back.

Not today.

Possibly not ever.

I’d driven until I was sure that Max and Holly would be gone, their flight already in the air. When I finally returned to the beach house there was a note on the counter. Holly’s neat, sharp looking script on a piece of notebook paper made one demand
:
CALL ME
!

With a grimace I crumpled the paper and tossed it.

I fixed myself a lunch that I barely touched.

Even lounging by the ocean didn’t make me feel better.

My stomach was a knotted tangle of nerves.

How long until Holly found out why I had come to Harmony Bay in the first place? The last few months, while my secret had been safe, I’d been able to live in a blissful state of denial. Well, not a blissful state, maybe an adequately comfortable state of denial. But denial all the same. Once Holly knew, she would make me talk about it. She would make me rehash it and worst of all, she would probably try to convince me that it really wasn’t my fault.

No, I recalibrated my thought process. Even worse, she would admit that yes, I was
very much
at fault.

Lying by the ocean proved to be the opposite of relaxing. My mind wouldn’t stop wandering. I thought it was pretty inconsiderate of Jarrett to not show up the one time I really wished he’d provide a distraction. Hell, I’d even pet his mangy mutt if he’d just keep me company for awhile.

But he was nowhere in sight.

With a growl of agitation I finally rolled off the chair I’d been plastered to for over an hour. I trudged through the sand up to the house. I was feeling restless, agitated, and downright miserable.

I briefly contemplated calling Paige. She was a friend of Holly’s and now a friend of mine by default. I knew she was always game for just about anything. She could be over in twenty minutes or less if I gave her a call. However, I also knew that if I did that, she’d want to know why I had stayed behind.

Best to just simmer in my boredom all alone.

The air conditioner hummed as I padded across the cool tile of the kitchen floor.

I opened the fridge, thinking maybe I could drown my sorrows in…I wasn’t sure. We didn’t keep brownies or copious amounts of chocolate in the fridge. In fact, in preparation for our supposed time away, the shelves were pathetically bare.

We did, however, have a few rogue bottles of wine. Sure, Max was a minor. We all were. But when your grandparents owned the freaking vineyard, exceptions were made. Villette thought it was criminal to deny Max of the wine he so diligently helped to create, market, and sell.

We never went overboard. Though this afternoon…I was making no promises. I reached for the chilled bottle of chardonnay. Villette Vineyards was embossed in black on the cream colored label. A curlicue of vines wrapped around the name.

I hesitated only a moment because it felt just a smidge like stealing.

I’d pay Max back. Actually, I knew he wouldn’t take my money. Maybe I could make him dinner. Scratch that. I wanted to thank him, not torment him. Guess I could always buy him a couple of pizzas.

The cupboard provided a few more choices. I lined them up on the counter; three reds and one white. I was in the mood for something sweet so I settled on the chardonnay.

I poured myself a glass and then leaned against the counter. I took a sip, and then a bigger sip, and then something that was suspiciously close to an unladylike guzzle. When the glass was empty I clenched it in my hand.

The fury I had been containing all these months bubbled to the surface. It had nothing to do with the wine I’d consumed and everything to do with having too much time to myself. Too much time to let my mind dredge up every painful detail of a past I was trying to bury.

My stomach flipped, and not in the good way. Every cell in my body began to vibrate with pent up rage. My hand began to tremble as I recalled what Kyle had done to me. What I’d made it so easy for him to do. I slammed the glass down on the counter with a growl of frustration. I had held it all in for so long. In part because Max or Holly were always around. It helped to keep my emotions in check.

But now?

I was on the verge of having a meltdown that would put a toddler to shame. In my rage, I reached for the object closest to me. I flung my phone the same instant I heard the front door slam.

Jake—
Jake
?!—belatedly appeared in the arch that separated the kitchen from the entryway. He cursed as the flying object slammed into his temple. “What the—” He jumped backward but not nearly fast enough.

“Jake!” I cut off another likely string of curse words by lunging forward and catching his attention. “What are you doing here?!”

“What am
I
doing?!” he echoed, sounding baffled. He dropped a duffel bag. It was huge, more like a sports bag that was filled to bursting. It landed next to his feet with a soft thump. He pulled his hand away from his head. I was horrified when I saw a streak of blood. “
What am I doing
?!” he repeated. “What the hell are
you
doing?! Do you always assault people instead of saying hello?”

“I wasn’t assaulting you! I didn’t even know you were here!” I put my hands against my cheeks. They were heated with embarrassment and my fingers felt cool against them.

“So…,” he asked, “you just smash up your phone for fun?”

I swallowed as I looked at the shattered remnants of my phone. I should’ve reached for a spatula to whip across the room. Better yet, a dish rag. He flinched as I neared, as if I might pummel him with my bare hand or something? I wasn’t sure.

“No,” I said. I wanted to claim that it was an accident. But that would be absurd. One doesn’t just accidentally whip a phone across the room. “I didn’t mean to do that.” What else could I say?  

“Huh, could’ve fooled me,” he said with a grimace.

“I am so sorry. Let me help you.” I hurried into the entryway and motioned for him to follow me down the hallway. I darted into the bathroom. Jake’s large frame lingered in the doorway.

I pulled open the medicine cabinet but all I could find were Holly’s Hello Kitty Band-Aids.

For crying out loud. Didn’t Max ever hurt himself? Probably not. I plucked one out of the box and peeled off the protective backside. They were better than nothing.

Jake didn’t seem to agree.

“Hell no,” he said as he ducked his head out of the way.

I shrugged. “Fine. If you’d rather just leak all over.” I said this as another trickle of blood squiggled its way past his temple. He reached for the tissue box that rested on the counter. He made a sound pretty damn close to a growl as he swiped away a thick dribble of blood.

“Fine. Put it on.”

I leaned into him and carefully applied the bandage. I knew it was a completely inappropriate time to notice his intoxicating scent. His hair was damp. I thought it was pretty safe to assume that he was fresh out of the shower. He smelled fresh, clean,
kissably
delicious.

Not to mention that I could feel the warmth wafting from his body. His chest was broad. It was a perfect place to place my hand.

Right, excellent place to put my hand. As I stood here and sniffed him!

I took a quick step back.

His slate gray eyes studied my face as I quickly stepped away. I gave him a sheepish smile.

He reached across me and tossed the tissue in the trash.

“You’ve got one hell of an arm.”

I cleared my throat. I wasn’t sure what to say. I couldn’t decide if it was a compliment or an insult. Probably an insult if the way he was glowering at me was any indication. To be honest, I didn’t really have one hell of an arm. I had one hell of a temper.

Thankfully, I kept it in check the majority of the time.

“So,” he asked as he moved closer to the sink, “what did that phone ever do to you? Or,” he asked after a pause, “was it the person on the other end of the line you were taking your aggression out on?”

“There was no one on the other end,” I said as I stepped back. I moved as far away as I could in the small bathroom. My back pressed against the wall next to the shower to allow Jake access to the mirror over the sink.

He took another tissue, wetted it, and scrubbed at his cheek. When he was done cleaning up he turned to me.

He was frowning.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible,” I started, “but what are you doing here?”

“Max didn’t tell you?”

I shook my head.

“Wait,” he said. “I thought you were supposed to be gone.”

“I was. I decided to stay home.” I crossed my arms over my chest, silently pleading with him not to press the issue.

“That’s probably why Max didn’t mention it to you,” he said. “He thought no one would be here. My landlord is doing some remodeling.” He made a face. “Actually, he’s fixing a leak in the roof and some other structural damage. After the last storm I had so many tin cans placed around the floor that it was like walking through a maze.”

“Sounds kind of miserable.”

“Yeah. The place is a dump,” he said unhappily. “But he finally agreed to get the roof fixed. I was supposed to stay at a motel this week, probably most of next week too. Last night when we were golfing it came up. Max offered to let me stay here since no one was supposed to be home. He thought it would save me some money. Which it would.”

“Oh.” Now I was the one frowning. Jake didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would live in a dump. I wondered what the story was there. Maybe, if he stayed the week, I’d get around to asking.

Or maybe not. Asking questions led to having questions asked of you in return. Maybe I’d just have to live with my curiosity.

“Yeah.
Oh
.” He pulled a hand through his hair. “I cancelled my room. I could call to see if it’s still available.”

“It’s tourist season. It’s not likely,” I pointed out. Then I shook my head, feeling guilty. If anything, I was more of an intruder right now than he was. It was Max’s house. I was supposed to be gone. He’d given Jake permission to stay. “There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

“If you’re sure you don’t mind? That would be great. The motel is an even bigger dump than my apartment. Like you said, it’s tourist season so they get away charging a lot for it.”

“Does your landlord cover it, since you have to move out because of the condition of your apartment?”

He scoffed. “No. However,” he said with mock solemnity, “he did agree not to charge me rent for the week or so that I’m kicked out.”

“Hm,” I said. “Very generous of him.”

He matched my sarcasm with some of his own. “Pretty much what I told him. So, uh, yeah, if you think you could put up with me for a week or more, I’d really appreciate it.”

I had expected him to argue. I was relieved that he didn’t.

“I don’t mind at all. I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.” I squeezed past him into the hallway. Max and Holly’s bedroom was right across from mine. The moment I stepped inside I realized the bedroom was clean. Not just clean, but hotel room clean. Nothing personal was left lying around. Come to think of it, the whole house was unusually clean. Holly must have scrambled to make the place sparkle. I felt a pang of guilt. She’d been busy cleaning while I’d been driving around, busy doing nothing but
avoiding
.     

Knowing Holly, she wanted the house perfect for Jake.

Never mind that Jake was obviously a guy and most definitely wouldn’t even care, let alone notice.