Discovering You (17 page)

“Since when is it up to you to tell me what to do where Natasha's concerned?” Grady asked.

Mack stood up. “Since now. Leave her alone, like I said.”

Grady gaped at him. “Damn, you're
both
acting like assholes,” he muttered. “I'm going to bed.”

16

W
hen Rod got home, India's car was in her drive, but she wasn't in his bed. She wasn't even in his room. What worried him was that she wasn't at her place, either. The lights were on, but the doors were all locked, and she didn't respond when he knocked or when he used his phone to call her. He was going around the house, trying to figure out some way to break in so he could make sure she was okay, when he heard her voice behind him.

“Rod, I'm right here.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as he turned to see her unharmed. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said. “Why didn't you answer my call?”

“My phone won't pick up. I dropped it in the sink this morning, and it's been acting screwy ever since.”

“You need to have it checked.” What with Sebastian out and running around, a phone could be vital for getting help. She couldn't be without one if that moment ever came.

“I will if it continues. I've got it in some rice. That should help pull the moisture from it.”

He studied her, taking note of her simple top, cutoffs and bare feet. She was stunning when she dressed up. But he liked her even better like this, with her hair piled up and her face scrubbed clean of makeup. “What've you been doing?”

“Just...wading in the river.”

“This late?”

“You know I have trouble sleeping.”

Although he couldn't see her clearly in the darkness, he could tell she was pale and tired.

“How'd the trip go?” she asked.

“I got what Dylan needed.” He leaned against the side of her house so that he wouldn't immediately reach out and draw her to him. The compulsion he felt to do that sort of surprised him. “How was
your
day?”

A flash of white told him she'd just cracked a smile. “You mean after Natasha busted me for sleeping with you?”

He returned her grin. “I can't believe you told Dylan about us.” His brother must've texted him five times today:
I was sleeping with your brother
. Quoting her had become an inside joke between them.

She pulled on the frayed hem of her shorts. “He probably warned you to stay away from me.”

“Nah, he likes you.”

When she said nothing, he bent his head to peer at her more closely. “You're not upset about Natasha or Dylan, are you?”

“No.”

“Then what is it? Why are you so restless? Because of Sebastian? Have you heard anything?”

“Nothing. But it's not him—at least no more than last night or the night before.”

“
Something's
bugging you.” Was it just that she was undecided about whether or not she should return to his bed?

“I've got a long list,” she joked. “Where should I start?”

“At the top.”

She let her breath go in a sigh. “Okay. For one thing, when I called to talk to Cassia today, my in-laws put me off. Again.”

He closed the distance between them, but he didn't touch her. “Why wouldn't they let you talk to your own daughter?”

“They didn't say no. They never actually
refuse
. They just won't put her on the phone very often. They always come up with some excuse.”

Rod admired the creamy smoothness of her skin. “Why would they do that?”

“I'm positive it's because they don't want her to start crying and ask to come home. Then they won't be able to tell me she's as happy there as she is with me.”

He ran a finger along her jawline. He thought she might step away, but she didn't. “What kind of grandparents would want to make you feel less important to her than you are?”

She stared up at him. She seemed lost in his gaze—so lost he thought he might be able to kiss her. But then she said, “I guess when you have a daughter-in-law you suspect of helping to murder your son, you don't feel she'd make a great mother for your grandchild.”

He shook his head. “It's such bullshit that they can't tell what kind of person you are.”

She caught hold of his wrist, since he was now moving his thumb over her bottom lip. “Why don't
you
wonder more?” she asked. “How can you be so certain I'm innocent?”

“A lot of reasons.”

“Such as...”

“The fact that you haven't even tried to convince me stands out the most.”

“And...”

“It's obvious that you'd never harm anyone, India.” He remembered how she'd acted when she was approaching the guy he'd punched out. She'd been so queasy, he'd worried that she might faint. He couldn't imagine that a woman so sensitive to seeing someone hurt could set her husband up to be
killed
. “I can only assume that your in-laws have been blinded by the loss of their son.”

“Maybe it's easier for you to accept my side of the story because you didn't have any emotional connection to Charlie,” she said. “But I would've thought that I'd established
some
credibility with my in-laws. They know me a lot better than you do. Shouldn't
they
be the ones to insist I couldn't have done such a terrible thing?”

They'd hurt her—deeply. He felt bad about that. What she'd been through was difficult enough without their defection. “Tragedy does strange things to people. Sometimes it's tempting to place blame where blame doesn't belong. It's not like they can punish Sebastian, so they're punishing you for ever being connected to him.”

“I suppose. But...you didn't sit through the trial.”

He linked his fingers with hers and led her back to the water. “What difference would that have made?”

“You didn't hear all the awful things that were said about me,” she said with a humorless laugh. “Maybe that would've changed
your
mind, too.”

“I doubt it.”

Pivoting to face him, she put her hand on his chest, palm flat as if she was trying to feel his heartbeat, to connect with that vital part of him in some way. But what came out of her mouth shocked him. “You don't know what I had to do to save my child,” she whispered.

From what he could see in the moonlight, her eyes were filled with agony. Covering her hand with his, he lowered his voice. “I'm sure I can guess.”

The silence stretched out. Then, in a hollow voice, she said, “We argued. We fought. All of that's true, but...”

“There's more.”

She nodded.

Rod felt his muscles tense as he imagined what might have happened. “What'd he do to you, India?”

The question alone made her tremble. She tried to remove her hand, but he wouldn't let her. “Don't withdraw,” he murmured. “You don't have to hide anything from me.”

“But it...it isn't what he
made
me do.” She had to gulp to get those words out, because of the tears that were suddenly streaming down her cheeks.

“Maybe it's time you told someone,” he said.

“I...I can't.”

He realized she hadn't expected this conversation and wasn't prepared for it. Neither was he. It'd hit them both out of nowhere. She had something she needed to say, and yet she couldn't say it. He was beginning to believe she wouldn't be able to put the past behind her until she'd dealt with whatever she was holding back. But at the same time, he didn't want to put her through the horror of reliving it.

“Then don't,” he whispered. Slipping his arms around her, he rested his chin on her head. “You can always tell me later, if you want.”

“You'd hate me for it,” she said.

Like she hated herself? “No, I wouldn't,” he said. “More than that, if he ever returned, and you faced the same danger, I'd want you to do whatever you did again, if that's what you have to do to survive.”

She buried her face in his neck and let him hold her until she quit shaking. Then, after she grabbed her phone from her house, they went to his room.

* * *

Rod fell asleep almost as soon as they climbed into bed. India was glad of that. She didn't want to make love with him—knew she'd only be disappointed in herself come morning, since she'd promised she'd pull back, be cautious, not jump into another possibly painful situation. She didn't want to talk, either. While she was wading in the river, she'd decided she wouldn't upset him right before bedtime by telling him about that conversation at Just Like Mom's between Liam and Sharon. That information was better saved until morning. So what had she done instead? She'd talked about her own problems and almost revealed the one secret that could destroy her!

What
had she been thinking? That she
knew
him? That she could
trust
him? No matter how safe he seemed, she had to remember that she couldn't lean on him or anyone else. If her most trusted friends, even Charlie's
family
, could turn on her, Rod could, too. What she and Rod felt for each other now might not be there next week or the week after. She had to keep in mind how quickly circumstances and emotions could change, especially since she couldn't allow their relationship to become serious.

She had to keep her mouth shut.

When he rolled away from her in his sleep, she missed the physical contact, which worried her. She tried to convince herself that she was just lonely and stayed on her side of the bed. But that only made the wanting worse.

After lying still for several minutes, she decided she might as well enjoy the comfort of his body. She'd have plenty of nights without him as soon as the police found the gun Sebastian had used to kill Charlie—or she could get her life straightened out some other way—and she could return home to her regular life. Then she wouldn't have anything to fear, Cassia would be back and it would be easier to do what she should.

Sliding closer, she tentatively slid her arm around his waist, and when he shifted, she settled against him. Regardless of who or what he'd turn out to be when she got to know him better, he definitely made a comfortable bed partner. She loved how responsive he was—and almost everything else about him.

“You okay?” he muttered.

“I'm fine. Go back to sleep,” she whispered. She said that as if she was going to sleep, too. But as soon as his breathing was regular again, she removed her pajama top and slid his T-shirt up so she could press her bare chest against his warm back. Only then did she feel safe and secure enough to drift off.

* * *

When Rod woke up, he felt the softness of India's breasts against his arm, and the resulting deluge of testosterone kicked his brain into full wakefulness without the usual groggy in-between stage. She wasn't wearing her pajama top, yet he remembered her having it on when they went to bed.

Had
he
taken it off? Or had
she
?

He turned over carefully so he could see her in the early-morning light that filtered through the blinds and pulled the blankets down a few inches in the process. He was enjoying the view when he realized she was awake, too.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

“Morning.”

They said nothing else, just stared at each other for several long seconds before he reached out to touch her.

Her eyes closed as his hand cupped the soft mound of her breast, and he felt himself grow hard. He didn't have a lot of time before work, but at this point he didn't care if he was late. She'd been trying so hard to pull back emotionally, he'd assumed she wouldn't let him touch her like this. But she
was
letting him; she was even responding.

“What happened to your top?” he asked.

“I took it off.”

“Because...”

“Because I wanted to feel you against me.”

That was a good sign. “How about we get closer?”

A hint of reluctance showed on her face, but she didn't stop his hand from sliding down between her legs. “I don't want to mislead or...or disappoint you,” she said.

“I don't want to mislead or disappoint you, either.”

The satisfaction he felt when he finally pressed inside her made him smile. He'd never felt such tenderness. For a minute or two that concerned him. It suggested he could end up with a broken heart, after all—his first since his mother died so long ago.

But he didn't want to dwell on the possibility. Not when he had what he wanted right now. The moment he felt her legs lock around his hips and her mouth open beneath his, he lost himself in the pleasure of being with her. He didn't surface again until he heard her groan and let himself rush toward his own climax.

“Sorry it has to be so short,” he said, pulling away. “I'll make it up to you later. I've got to go to work.”

She took his hand as he got out of bed. “There's something I have to tell you.”

He hesitated. Judging by the sound of her voice, it wasn't good news. “Do you have to tell me right now?” he asked. “Because I'm feeling pretty happy.”

He'd meant to make her smile, but she still looked worried. “I already put it off because I wanted you to get a good night's rest, but...I think you should know.”

With a sigh, he sat back down. “What is it?”

“That guy you got into a fight with?”

“Liam Crockett?” At least she wasn't telling him, again, that she couldn't see him.

“Yes. I saw him at the restaurant where I ate last night.”

Distracted by her nudity, he moved his hand over her as he bent to kiss her neck.

“Are you listening to me?” she asked.

“Mmm-hmm.” He took her earlobe in his mouth. “You saw Liam at the restaurant.”

“I didn't just
see
him. I overheard him.”

He lifted his head. “And?”

“He's going to press charges.”

Rolling his eyes to show his disgust, Rod stood. “I expected as much.”

“It's not only that,” she said. “I heard the person he was with telling him he should say you used a weapon.”