Mystic Hearts (11 page)

Charlene
unclenched her fists. “Sounded like a gun.”

“More
like a cherry bomb, but—” The skin between Celine’s eyes wrinkled. “Blown tires
can create the same sound…sometimes.”

Celine’s
attempt to reassure Charlene failed. Her mind whirled with someone trying to
harm them. “What if…”

“No
one shot at us. Why would they?”

Good
question, which made her wonder. Had her jumpiness since the kidnapping been
her imagination after all, or was there a reason for it? She thought back on the
last several months. Being taken against a person’s wishes would make anyone
jumpy. Still, the gut feeling that a deeper reason was behind it caused her to
have unsettled nerves. What the reason was, she couldn’t quite put her finger
on.

“I
need to check the tire.” Charlene shoved the door open.

“I
don’t have a spare.”

Charlene’s
eyebrow shot up.. “You don’t have a spare?”

“Didn’t
buy one. I figured, I’d be close to town and could call the auto service if I
needed.”
    

“For
the love of…” Charlene climbed out of the car, looked at the flat rear tire,
and shook her head. A minute later, she sagged against the seat. “Do you have a
jack?”

“Um,
I don’t think so.”

Charlene
swallowed the lecture she wanted to give Celine. “We need to call someone.”

Celine
stared ahead. “I don’t want to call Steve. Do you have someone we could call
this time of day?”

The
question didn’t require any thought. She yanked her phone out of her purse and
called Larry.

“Hi,
Charlene,” he answered. His hot voice soothed her like a gentle breeze. She
pressed the receiver closer to her ear, wanting him near, and caught Celine
watching.

“Hi,
Larry. Celine and I had a flat tire. She doesn’t have a spare.”

“Where
are you?”

What
she’d say next wouldn’t go over well. “Heading to Greenwood Manor.”

The
silence that followed rang loud with his anger. He cleared his throat. “You
went? You ignored my advice?”

His
tone along with the unspoken order from this morning got under her skin.

Larry
didn’t yell. Still, memories rushed back: Andrew making demands, ordering and
manipulating her to do what he wanted. Larry’s tone made her feel like a heel,
as if she’d stepped over the proverbial line…the same manner Andrew had forced
upon her.

“Charlene?”
Larry said, snapping her out of her deluge of thoughts.

And
she’d believed he was different. “Sorry to bother you.” She moved the phone
away from her ear, waiting for a horn or some odd creature to appear and stop
her from making a huge mistake. Nothing happened. She hit the disconnect
button. “Men.”

“They’re
scum.” Celine pushed her bottom lip into a pout. “I love them, but they are.”

Disappointment
and a healthy dose of shame flowed through Charlene.

“I
don’t know what’s between you and Larry. From where I sit, the driver’s seat by
the way, you called him quickly, too quickly for just acquaintances.”

Charlene
needed to think of something fast before Celine took what was not going on
between her and Larry too far. “Noth—”

Celine
held up her hand, stopping her. “Let me finish. Larry didn’t respond the way
you wanted, so you hang up on him? And you question me and Steve arguing?
What’s up with that? What’s good for you isn’t good for me?”

With
no words to explain her behavior, Charlene shifted her gaze from the empty road
and gazed at her friend. Feeling ashamed and mixed up, she slowly lifted a
shoulder.

Celine
studied her a few moments, her expression shifting from frustrated, to
concerned. “Don’t worry. I still love you.” She pushed the blue-tooth button on
the steering wheel, and said, “Steve Anderson.”

A
ringing sound filled the air. “Anderson.” Steve’s commanding voice thundered
over the speakers.

“Steve,
I have a flat.”

“You
never bought a spare, did you?” he asked, his voice tight.

“No.”

“Where
are you?”

While
Celine gave him their location, Charlene stared out the window at the cows
grazing in a nearby pasture and thought about her flippant behavior toward
Larry. With him, she stayed in emotional turmoil: Wanting a relationship when
she didn’t trust anyone with her heart proved difficult to handle and made her
lash out.

“Thanks.”
Celine hung up and squeezed Charlene’s hand resting on her knee. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Steve’s
on his way.”

“I
thought you two were broken up.”

Celine
forced a laugh. “Well, we have our moments. He doesn’t like for anyone to be
stranded. If a BOF member broke down, he’d come running. That is, if he was in
the area.”

“I
shouldn’t have yelled at Larry.”

“You
won’t get an argument from me.”

Charlene
gave a half smile. “What do you know about him?”

“Not
much. He’s a decent guy, cute actually if you like redheads, and loyal to Jake
and Steve. That’s about it.”

“Auburn.”

“Huh?”

The
memory of Larry’s hair, disheveled, and gorgeously hanging over his forehead, crossed
in Charlene’s mind. “His hair is auburn.”

Celine
slanted her head. “Back to my question…why is he getting to you? You two have a
thing?”

“Not
a thing…more like a moment.”

“Obviously,
you won’t share, so I’ll change the subject. Is Paul coming to Cocktail Hour?”

Celine
knew more about the group’s comings and goings than she did. “I haven’t heard.”

“It’s
funny how we never know where Paul is. Now, he’s a man that’d be hard to
date…at least with Steve, I have half a clue when to expect him in town. Paul
leaves at the last minute for parts unknown, to compete in some sort of race
that he just found out about. I think there’s more to his story.”

Not
knowing him well, Charlene had similar thoughts. The few months since she
joined the group, Paul had been the one who wasn’t around much, not Steve.

“Makes
me wonder, is all,” Celine said as a black SUV stopped behind them. “The Cavalry
has arrived.”

Charlene
eyed the driver’s door opening in the rearview. Larry filled the mirror. “I
didn’t think he’d come.”

Steve
closed the passenger door.

“Hmm…I
wonder how they got here so fast.” Celine raised a brow, watching the men.

“Do
they have a tracker on your car?” Charlene teased.

“On
our phones, I’m sure.”

“What?”

“They
mean well.”

Celine’s
soothing tone and comforting hand on Charlene’s arm didn’t stop her irritation
from gaining momentum. Charlene shoved open the door and came nose to nose with
Larry. Her hands landed on his chest.

The
specks of gold shining in his honey eyes tugged an awareness low in her stomach
and convinced her nipples to stand at attention. It was all she could do not to
lean forward, like he’d done to her this morning, and kiss him.

Her
pestering negative side raised its ugly head, insisting she not allow Larry to
have influence over her. She moved her fingers to shift away, but the side of
her that wanted to be loved and to believe in Larry’s trustworthiness fought
back. She fisted his shirt and relished in the contour of his chest.

“There’s
a nail hole,” Steve said from somewhere in the distance.

Neither
Larry nor Charlene responded.

Larry
covered her hand. His deep soul-searching scrutiny cut right through her, the
kind where a decision was made if you want the person or not. The gaze stole
her breath.

For
a beat of time, he let her see deep inside him. A place she believed no one was
allowed, a place of doubts and fears.

He
blinked.

The
moment disappeared, replaced by a confident, mysterious front that wouldn’t
allow anyone in.

He
released her and walked to the rear of Celine’s car.

What
had he seen when he looked into her eyes? What decision had he made? Did he
want her?

Did he decide he
didn’t want her?

The
pings shooting through her from him walking away stung, tightening her chest,
then grew stronger, seeking to grab hold of her essence and let loose her
tears. A part of her she refused to let anyone touch.

With
the car held up by a jack, Steve removed lug nuts. Larry knelt beside him. The
jeans strained, cupping his muscular thighs and butt. She had to look away, and
moved to the boarded fence to watch the cows grazing in the pasture.

By
Larry silently making demands, all the vices her ex possessed crashed with a
sensation of doom, her weakness. A place she promised she wouldn’t go again.

She
wanted to yell at Larry for telling her what to do, for tracking her by
phone––if indeed he had. A piece of her felt violated while a small portion, a
minute part, had to admit to liking the attention.

“I
don’t know what you expect from me.”

She
flinched. Larry’s low masculine voice surprised her.

The
sound of a motor neared. Celine and Steve climbed into a truck, with ‘McDowell
Brothers’ stenciled on the side, and drove away. She shifted her gaze to
Celine’s car, still propped up on one side.

“They’re
heading to a garage to patch the tire,” Larry said.

She
nodded and locked gazes with Larry. “I don’t expect anything.”

He
stepped closer. Incredible heat rushed to her stomach. “Yes, you do.”

The
innuendo of his comment mixed with the sensual overtures of his voice flooded
her face. She dug deep to dismiss the erotic feeling. “Not only do you tell me
what to do, you also know what I think.” The belligerent words flew out before
she thought twice. She meant to confront him, but not in a harsh tone.
 

Hurt
tore across his face before his grim features lessened and his expression went
deadpan.

“I
didn’t mean what I said.”

He
remained silent, his face neutral.

Once
again, she wondered if this was his way of saying he made a choice. He had
given her a second chance by saying she knew what she wanted, and yet again,
she blew it. Reading his mind was impossible. Understanding hers was worse. She
didn’t know what she should or shouldn’t do.

Charlene
stared at his incredibly attractive face, wanting him to say something,
anything so she might have an inkling of how to field his reaction.

“When
they return, I’ll give you a ride home,” he finally said.

Holding
onto the board like a lifeline, she stared after him walking toward Celine’s
car. The cold, flat tone of his voice reminded her once again of Andrew.
Wanting a reaction out of him, she hissed, “More manipulation.”

His
body went rigid.

Moving
on from stupidity and fear, she latched onto anger, and shoved off the fence.
Time to get this over: the quicker the fantasy was put to rest, the faster she
moved on with her life.

Her
irritation picked up velocity. Love was a freaking waste of time. People got
hurt too easily. She swallowed, preparing for his onslaught of words, expecting
him to handle their argument the way Andrew did. By the time Andrew would
finish his rant, he’d have stirred up her feelings of incompetence, doubts, and
guilt. This time, she’d be stronger. She dug her heels into the ground,
determined not to show a sign of weakness and to keep her wayward body parts in
check.

Larry
turned. His eyes narrowed as he approached. She assumed he’d stop a few feet
away to yell, but his imposing body came closer. The passion reflected in his
eyes surprised her and shocked her, convincing her feet to move backwards until
she hit the fence.

Again,
she’d lost control.

She
had to restrain herself. Setting her hands on her hips, she jutted her chin
upward in a way that dared him to come closer.

It
didn’t work.

He
eliminated the distance between them and grasped the fence on either side,
caging her in. The heat of his body seeped through her thin cotton shirt. Her
resolve weakened.

“Andrew…manipulation…You
used words to hurt me?” The annoyance in his voice was measured. “Why? What
have I done to you? I’d think you would be grateful for someone staying with
you while the narcotic in your blood stream weakened, rather than tossing
allegations like stones.”

She
stared, dumbfounded, but his voice didn’t rise. He didn’t throw words to get
even, just said what mattered.

He
hesitated and angled his head. She wasn’t sure what he would do next.

“Do
you think for one second accusations would stop me from doing what I know is
right?”