Luke: A West Bend Saints Romance (26 page)

I cleared my throat again, reached behind her for the car door handle, purposely not moving away from her.  My hand was against her ass, and the movement pulled her toward me.  "Still sure you want to come with me?" I asked.  The question immediately made me think of sex, and I could imagine being inside her.

Come with me.

When she answered, her voice was breathy.  "Yes."

***

CHAPTER SEVEN

RIVER

Elias put the top up on the convertible.  It made it cozier than before, when we were riding with the top down and the wind blowing.

It was more intimate somehow.  There was less space between us, and it was quiet.  Still, for a little while, neither of us made any attempt at small talk.

It sounded silly, but I was still reeling from that kiss.  All I could think about was the way I felt when he kissed me, my heart racing, my body on edge.  I knew I should be sad about my relationship.  I should be sad I wasn’t getting married.

Except instead, I felt this huge sense of relief, the weight of a burden lifted from my shoulders.

I felt positively giddy.

I giggled, the sound erupting out of nowhere, this weird release of the tension and stress of the past twenty-four hours.  Elias had to think I was a crazy person.

"What?" he asked.  "Is it that couple?  They were a fucking trip, huh?  You think they went in the bathroom and got it on?"

I let out a louder laugh, covering my mouth. 
Calm your shit down, River.
  "Yes."  I nodded.  "Definitely."

"I'll still be like that when I'm eighty," Elias said.  "With a fucking hard on for my old lady."

I laughed at his bluntness.  Elias just seemed to have no problem saying whatever popped into his head.  He was the first person I'd hung out with in years who didn't seem to have an agenda, wasn't working an angle to get something from me.

"That's funny?" he asked.

"No," I said.  "It's cute how they were all over each other.  I hope I still have the hots for someone when I'm older."

"You'll be a hot old lady," he said.  "No doubt."

"Well, in Hollywood terms, that's like ten years away."

"I don't get that bullshit," Elias said.

"Which part?" I asked.  "The obsession with staying young?"

"All that crazy shit in general," he said.  "It seems like it would fuck with your head.  I mean - no offense, you seem pretty normal and all.  For an actress, I mean."

I laughed.  "Give it a while," I said.  "I'll impress you with my brand of crazy."

"Hah."  He paused, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove.  "Go for it."

"Go for what?"

"Impress me," he said.  "What's your brand of crazy?"

I was silent for a minute.  My crazy was too much for someone like Elias - someone who seemed like a normal guy, if there was such a thing - to deal with.  "Well, I can't give away all my secrets," I said.  "But this is probably already on the internet anyway, so I might as well say it here.  I took a baseball bat to all of Viper's shit, all his memorabilia and stuff."

"Yeah?"  he asked.  "So you smashed the shit out of a bunch of his collectibles, because he was fucking your sister?  That's like, nothing."

"It was some really priceless stuff," I said, sheepishly.  "Like a Heisman Trophy he acquired.  And the bat was Mickey Mantle's."

"The asshole deserved it, didn't he?"  he asked.  "He's lucky you didn't take the bat to his ass.  I'm only slightly impressed by the fact that you destroyed a bunch of collectibles."

"Only slightly?" I asked.  "I'm not sure if I should be disappointed or scared that you don't think that's crazy."

"Eh," he said.  "I wouldn't call it crazy.  More like redneck justice."

"Redneck justice, huh?" I asked, my face coloring.  All this time and effort trying to get away from my past and my behavior always betrayed me.

Elias looked over at me and winked.  "Don't worry, darlin'," he said.  "It's a compliment, not an insult.  Where I come from, it means you've got some balls."

I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes, and I turned to look out the window, trying furiously to blink them away.  Not now.  Not here, in front of him, this guy I just met.  I was
not
going to cry.  I didn't even know why I was upset.

"Shit," Elias said.  "I didn't mean anything by it."

I didn't know why I was crying, just that I felt like I'd been running on an adrenaline high for the last twenty-four hours and now I was crashing hard.  I wiped a tear from my cheek.

Elias reached over and touched me.  His hand on my leg was warm, the heat radiating through my body.  Even through the haze of tears, his touch was electric.

"I wasn't saying you were crazy or anything," Elias said, sounding confused.

"I'm not a crier," I said, sniffling.  "I'm really not.  I don't know what my problem is."

"It's all right," he said.  "I have that effect on women."

"Making them cry?" I asked.  I couldn't help but smile.

"Well, sometimes it's hard to be in the presence of someone this good looking," he said, gesturing to himself.

I couldn't help but laugh.  "Yeah, I can see how that would make them cry."

"Hey," he said.  "You know what you need?"

"What?"  I wiped the corner of my eye.  At least he didn't think I was a total baby.  Or was polite enough not to say so to my face, anyway.

"You like drive ins?"

ELIAS

Shit.
  I stole a glance at her.  At least she wasn't crying anymore.  I couldn't help but get a little panicked at the sight of a girl crying - what guy didn't feel that way?  But I guess she had just broken up with her fiancé and shit.  Most girls would be wallowing in a pint of Ben and Jerry's and listening to sappy music - that's how they did it in the movies, right?  At least this chick wasn't like most girls- shit, she'd beat her fiancé's collectibles into pieces with a baseball bat.

That was fucking cool.

I could respect shit like that, even if it was crazy.

So, if she was shedding a few tears in the car now, who was I to judge?

"Do I like drive ins?" she asked.  "That's kind of random.  But okay.  You mean like a movie theater?”

“Nope,” I said.  “Like a restaurant.  Up ahead.  I’m starving.”

“Oh,” she said.  “You mean a Sonic.”

I rolled my eyes.  “While I appreciate the fact that you even know what a Sonic is, being a big movie star and all,
no.
 It’s not a chain.  It’s an old place.  It's been here since the fifties.”  I squinted, watching for it to come into view.  “At least, it
used
to be here.  It’s been a few years.”

“Since you’ve been back home?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” she asked.

“You’re awful nosy,” I said.  I squinted as Linda’s Drive In came into view.

"What's West Bend like, anyway?" she asked, as we pulled into the parking lot.

I shrugged.  “I don't know.  Like any other small town.”

How the hell did I explain West Bend to an outsider?  Real pretty on the outside but rotten to the core inside?  Maybe it was just me and my brothers that were that way, all looks and no substance.  It’s what my father used to say.  

God rest his soul,
my mother said when she’d called to tell me the news.

I’d laughed bitterly.  
Can’t rest what you don’t have,
I’d told her.

"Are all small towns the same?" she asked.

I was going to formulate a smartass response, but I merely grunted, since we were already pulling into the parking space.  And then River was practically scrambling over the top of me to get a look at the menu.  “Excuse you,” I said, as she dug her hand into my thigh.

“Didn’t complain when I was this close to you before,” she said.

True
.  And I could see down her shirt, so that was a bonus.  I felt the familiar stirring between my legs, and she looked down, then up at me.  I shrugged.  “Don’t put your hand down there if you don’t want it to get hard.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but we were interrupted by the car hop at the window.  While the girl was taking our orders, I found myself actually wondering what River had been about to say.

We ate in silence for a while, until River spoke.  "So," she said.  "You grew up in West Bend?"

"Yup."  I popped a French fry into my mouth, and didn't elaborate.

She let the silence linger for a minute before breaking it.  "Anyone ever tell you you're amazing at small talk?"

I shot her a look.

"Thought so," she said, her voice light.  "Well, there's this thing called conversation, where one person asks a question and the other one answers, but says some more stuff in response."

I shrugged.  "I'm not much for talking about where I grew up."  I got the hell out of West Bend as soon as I could, and I'd only gone back once.  I wasn't exactly looking forward to going back now.

Especially considering the fact that now I had to think about what the hell I was going to do with a movie star in tow.

I sure as fuck couldn’t take her to my house.  A girl like that would run screaming when she saw where the hell I came from.  Hand to mouth living was probably the best way to describe my family's situation growing up - we had four walls and a piece of dirt, but not much more than that.  My father-
the asshole,
as my brothers and I called him- brought in our meager income mining on our land, until that went to shit when I was in high school.

I wasn’t about to bring a girl like her home with me to see my family’s clapboard house, that was for damn sure, even if the asshole wasn't there anymore.

“Well, we’ve got how much longer until we get to West Bend?” she asked.

“About an hour or so,” I said.

“Then you’ve got about an hour or so of a captive audience here,” she said.  “Considering you had your tongue down my throat before, I’d say we’re pretty well acquainted enough for small talk.”  She winked at me, and it made me laugh.

“All right,” I said.  “What do you want to know?”

“Who said I wanted to know anything about you?” she asked.  “I’m a fucking movie star, and you don’t want to ask me anything?”

The same damn words out of someone else’s mouth and they would have sounded stuck up and bitchy and just plain
tacky
.  But there was this...
lightness
about everything she said, this playfulness about her.

I laughed.  "You are full of yourself, aren't you?"

“Just direct,” she said.  “I don’t see any point in beating around the bush about it.  There’s obviously something worrying you about going home, and you’re clearly man enough to tell me if you don’t want to discuss it.”

“I don’t want to discuss it,” I said.

“See how easy that was?”

"Okay, princess," I said.  "Where'd you grow up?  Hollywood?  You think you're going to be able to hack it in rural America?"

She looked down for a minute, and I hoped she weren't going to start fucking crying again.  But she didn't, just took a bite of a French fry.  "Golden Willow, Georgia," she said.  "I know small towns.  I think I'll manage just fine."

"Huh."  I hadn't expected that.

"Surprised?" she asked, her smile more of a smirk.

"Didn't expect you were a country girl," I said.

"Not all of us movie stars grow up rich, you know," she said.  "I wasn't always a princess."

"You're not really what I expected from an actress."

"Glad I'm not disappointing," she said, munching on the end of a fry.  "I'd hate to be a cliché."

I watched as she took a bite of her burger, and she turned toward me, her hazel eyes bright, hair messily sticking up on the ends.  "You're definitely different, River Andrews," I said.  "That's for damned sure."

ELIAS

“You’re sure this place is discreet?” River asked.  “This is someone you’ve known for a while?”

“You sound like we’re visiting a whorehouse or something,” I said.  “It’s a bed and breakfast.”

I deliberately failed to mention that I wasn't friends with the owners, and that people from West Bend may not exactly be particularly happy to see one of the Saint brothers show up, dragging with him a movie star demanding to stay incognito. That’s not the kind of problem you just dumped on people who thought you were the scum of the earth.

Not that I knew the people running the bed and breakfast anyway.

Not personally.

That's not to say we didn't have history, a sordid history.  But I didn't know what else to do with River.  All I could think about was the look that would inevitably cross her face when I brought her home to my house.

No thanks.  I sure as fuck wasn’t a masochist.

And I sure as fuck wasn't bringing her home.

Not to my house.

Not to my mother.

Not to my brother.

"You sure we shouldn't have called first?"  she asked, giving me this weird look.

"I'm sure it's fine."  I said.  I wasn't.

River met me on my side of the vehicle.  Her hand went up to my shirt, where the collar would be, her fingers lingering at my neck line.  The way she did it, the way she paused there, reminded me of a scene from an old movie, the way a woman would adjust the tie of a man.

"Well," she said.  "I'm guessing this is goodbye."  Up on her tiptoes, she touched her lips gently to the side of my face.

"I'll walk you inside," I said.  "Jesus, I
am
a gentleman."

She laughed, this bawdy, totally in the moment sound that lacked any kind of pretense whatsoever.  Her finger trailed across my chest, and she bit the bottom of her lip.  I could see her tongue snake along the edge of her lip, and it made it me want to be the one doing the biting.  "Somehow I doubt that," she said.

"That I'm a gentleman?" I asked, my brow furrowed.  All of a sudden, I was offended that she didn't think of me that way.  I found myself wondering what the hell I'd need to do to prove that I was, in fact, a gentleman.

River nodded, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  "Elias Saint, I doubt you could ever be a gentleman."

She turned and walked toward the white ranch house, leaving me wondering whether the hell that was an insult or a compliment.

And leaving me in her wake.

I had a feeling I wasn't the first man to feel that way.

***

At the front door of the ranch house, River knocked.  I stood behind her, feeling like I was back in middle school again, the dirty son of a coal miner, a no good kid from my no good home. I knew June Barton owned this place now, and June's family wasn't like that.  I didn't know her, but I knew that much.

She didn't know me, either.  Not personally.  That's what I was counting on here.  The last thing I wanted, with River standing right here, was for June to realize who I was.

A woman came to the door, wearing an apron over her T-shirt and jeans.  The apron didn't do much to hide her pregnancy; in fact, it seemed to accentuate her growing belly.  "Hi there," she said.  "I'm June.  Are you the Robinsons?  I wasn't expecting you- I thought you'd cancelled your reservation."  She looked back and forth between River and me.

"No," River said and she looked at me for a moment and I thought she was about to turn around and bail.  What the hell was she going to do here in West Bend anyway?  But then she answered.  "We're not the Robinsons.  Actually, I just wanted to see if you had any availability."

June looked back and forth between the two of us again.  She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing, and for a second I had the irrational fear that she recognized me.

But the moment passed, and June held open the screen door, beckoning us inside.  Inside, the ranch house was painted in white and blue, the hardwood floors gleaming.  It was a nice place, and I was glad that this was the place where June lived now.  I was glad that my family wasn't responsible for destroying her entire life.

I was happy she had this, even though I didn't know her.  I was too young back then, back when it all happened.

A kid, I wasn't sure how old, a couple years maybe, came toddling across the room on unsteady feet and June scooped him up in her arms.  "What are you doing, little Stan?"  She asked.  "Did your daddy lose track of you?"

"Nope, I'm right behind him," a voice called out, and a man rounded the corner, dressed in faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, his arms covered in tattoos.  I immediately recognized one of the tattoos as the identifying mark of a Marine Corps sniper.  I was pretty sure that was Cade.  I was young when all the shit happened, just a toddler, but I knew of Cade from later on, by reputation.  I knew he'd been injured in the Marines, gotten a Silver Star.

I hoped he didn't know who the hell I was.

“Afternoon,” Cade said.  “You all visiting West Bend?”

“I am,” River said.  “He’s come h-”

I interrupted her.  “Just visiting.”

River gave me a weird look.

“You know, you look so familiar,” June said.  “I bet you get this all the time, but you look like that girl from the movies, the one in all those romantic comedies, you know who I’m talking about, Cade?”

Cade rolled his eyes.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I’m real big on the romantic comedies.”

“She’s married to that rock star, Viper Gabriel.  Or getting married or something,” June said.  “River - that’s it.  River Something.  It's on the tip of my tongue.  The pregnancy is making me stupid lately, can't remember anything.”

River laughed.  “Can you keep a secret?” she asked.

June leaned forward.  “Of course.”

“I totally met her once,” she said.

“Did you?” June asked.  “Are you from California or something?”

River shook her head.  “Nope,” she said.  “But I traveled out there.”  She handed June a credit card and ID.  I wondered if they had her real name on them, or if they were fakes.

June took her card to her laptop, talking the whole time.  “Was she nice?  She seems like she’d be nice."

River smiled.  "I thought she was nice," she said.  "Although some people seem to have mixed feelings about her."

I cleared my throat to cover my laugh, and River glanced at me.  June didn't seem to notice.

"I have king size beds and a smaller room with just a twin," June said.  "Is king size okay?"

"If it's open, I'd like to rent the house."

June paused, River's card in her hand, mid-movement.  "The whole house?"

"If you have other guests, of course I understand," River said.  "I don't want you to move anything.  But if not, I'd like to just rent all the rooms you'd otherwise rent out."

June's brow furrowed, and I could feel Cade's eyes burrowing into the back of my head.  They had to be thinking we had just stolen a credit card or something.

June looked at River for a long minute.  "That's five bedrooms," she said.

River nodded, seeming completely at ease under the scrutiny.  "That's perfect," she said.

June finally broke her gaze and nodded.  "I think the next whole week was free except for the Robinson's," she said.  "Tourist season is winter here, so things are slow right now.  How long are you staying?"

“I’ll probably be here a few days, depending on things."

June clicked a few things on her laptop, and then looked up at us.  "I guess the whole house would be fine then."

"Good," River said.  "That's settled.  Is there someplace I can rent a car?”

“Didn’t you two drive up in -” June asked, then stopped, distracted.  “I forgot to even ask your name.”

River’s mouth opened, and I jumped in before she could say anything.  “E,” I said.  “Friends just call me E.”

It wasn’t true.  Nobody fucking called me E.

“Well, let me give you a tour of the place - and Cade here can help you with your bags if you need help,” June said.

“No bags,” River said.  June started ahead, and I followed down the hallway.

After June had given us the tour and left us in one of the larger bedrooms, River turned to me.  “Well, E,” she said, smiling, “thanks for the ride.”

She stood there, inches away from me, and it took all I had not to kiss her.  I told myself she was a complication I didn't need.  Her situation wasn't simple, and neither was mine.  I had enough complications to deal with - complications I was on my way to face.

So I turned in the other direction, away from those bright eyes and gorgeous lips.

“See ya, River.”  I looked over my shoulder as I left, and she was grinning at me.

She winked.  “See ya, Elias.”

***

RIVER

“Feel free to wander around,” June said.  “Do you ride at all?”

I nodded.  “A little bit."  I'd had to learn to ride, just basic stuff, for a role I'd had, but I didn't want to explain that to June.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” June asked, watching me sip my tea on the front porch.

I nodded.  
Nice
wasn’t even the word for it.  The whole thing - the bed and breakfast, the house next door, the log barn for the horses that looked simultaneously new and rustic- and all of it surrounded by the meadows and rolling hills covered in sagebrush and aspen trees.  It was all like something out of a book.

Growing up, we lived in the country, but not this kind of county, the kind where the landscape spread out in rolling hills, mesas, and mountain peaks in the distance.  Our kind of country involved trailers and broken down pickups clustered together, kids running naked in the front yard and old men leering at you while you walked by as they sat outside drinking from bottles wrapped in brown paper bags.

It was about as far away from
this
kind of country as you could get.

This kind of country I just wanted to breathe in.

Out here, surrounded by this, I couldn’t help but feel calm.  Peaceful.

“Being out here in the country grows on you,” June said.  “Especially when you’ve got stuff you’re running from.”

I looked at her, but she just blinked innocently, and took another sip from her coffee cup. 

I changed the subject.  "How long have you lived here?"  I asked.

"Oh, I grew up here," she said.  "Moved away when I was seventeen, but couldn't quite ever shake this place.  Came back here after I left the Navy.  There are just some places that stick with you, you know?  Places that have a way of embedding themselves deep in your soul."

"I guess I haven't ever really had a place I felt that way about," I said.  That wasn't true exactly.  Golden Willow had stuck with me, taken up residence in my soul, but not in the way that she was talking about.  It was like some kind of parasite that wouldn't let go, leaching away any happiness I dared to have.

"I think this place was my first love," June said.  "And then when Cade came back here too, I guess it was just meant to be."

As if on cue, her husband joined us on the porch.  He walked up behind her, slid his arms around her belly, and kissed her on the side of her temple.  June closed her eyes and leaned back against him.  It was such an intimate gesture, I felt almost like I was intruding on a private moment.

"Hey babe," Cade said.  "I'm going to head over to the shop for a little while.  Little Stan is asleep in one of the guest rooms."

"Okay," June said.  "I'll see you later."

"My shop in town," he said to me, by way of explanation.  "If you need anything picked up, I can bring something back with me."

"Thanks," I said.  "I think I'll need a car rental or something, but that can wait till tomorrow."

"All right," he said.  "But if you need anything, don't hesitate."

"Thanks."

I averted my eyes, giving the couple a moment of privacy as he leaned in to kiss June on the lips.

"I won't be home too late, June bug," he said.

She laughed.  "Stay there as long as you like," she said.  "Stan has been good about sleeping through the night the past few days and I'm going to be out like a light in an hour.  Paint to your heart's content."

"I'll try not to be there all night."  He grinned.  "See you later."

I watched as he crossed the meadow to the other house and got on a motorcycle, the chrome glinting bright even in the early evening light.  The rumble of the engine cut through the stillness of the air, and my eyes followed him as he drove away.

I felt a rush of fear in the pit of my stomach, looking at him, hearing the rumble of the bike's engine.  It brought back memories, too many, of living in the Golden Sunset Mobile Home Park, in the small southern town that had nothing going for it but the paper mill and a couple of strip clubs.  The bikers would roll through town, filling up the only hotel nearby, a seedy decrepit place with a neon motel sign hanging by the road, missing two letters: TOWN M - T- L. The light worked intermittently, buzzing on and off and giving the place an even more disreputable flavor.