Read Secondhand Sinners Online

Authors: Genevieve Lynne

Secondhand Sinners (10 page)

BOOK: Secondhand Sinners
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“I’m sorry,” he said, his lips inches away from hers. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m not.”

“But Daniel—”

“Yeah. And Sara.” He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “What do we do?”

Emily thought about what would be waiting for her when she got home—a crazy, old midwife that all the ladies in town over the age of fifty thought was practicing natural medicine. “Let’s pretend, just for an hour, that no one needs me, and no one needs you. That no one is waiting for us to come home. Let’s lie here together, look at the stars, and pretend.”

He kissed her cheek and put his arm under her neck while she nestled into him. Neither of them said a word as they lay there in the bed of his truck.

And for one hour of her life, she was happy.

 

After the memory subsided, Emily wondered if Miller had forgiven her for running away in the middle of the night with no explanation. Did he forgive her for making decisions after she promised he would be involved? Did he want her in his house, or was he humoring Abby? Was he still pretending?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

 

Miller

 

Miller knew something was wrong without even opening his eyes. There was light in the room, and it was always dark when he got up. He must have slept late. He opened his eyes and saw Abby standing over him.

She smirked. “Have a long night?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah. Must’ve overslept.”

“Yes you did. I slept like a baby, myself. Don’t worry. I’m all ready for school, and I took my medicine. Whatchya doing down here?”

“Emily and I moved Jack upstairs.”

“Yeah. I thought you might do that. Here.”

Miller rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “What’s that?”

She handed him a tube of Neosporin. “You don’t want that to get infected.”

“What?”

She pointed at his chest. “That.”

He touched the scratch marks Emily had left on him. “I, uh…I think those are from when I was getting the horses out of the barn yesterday.”

“‘Getting the horses out of the barn.’ Is that what they called it back in the old days?”

He sighed. “Okay. I know this looks bad, but nothing happened.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he lied. “Really.”

She started back to the kitchen. “If you say so. Want some coffee?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay. Hey, Dad?” She poked her head back around the corner.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t bring Emily’s underwear to the breakfast table.”

“What?” Miller propped up on his arms and looked down. Emily’s pink underwear was tucked into his waistband to the right of his fly. He fell back to the sofa. “Shit.” He yanked it out and stuffed it into his pocket. He got up, found his t-shirt at the end of the sofa, and pulled it over his head.

Feeling hungover and exhausted, and uncertain and alive, he went to the kitchen and slid into his usual chair while Abby poured coffee into his mug.

“You look exhausted.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen. I couldn’t sleep on the sof—”

She held her hands up. “You don’t have to explain it to me.”

Miller put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have.”

“A mistake? It’s obvious you two like each other. She kept watching you last night while you were outside cooking the fish.”

“This doesn’t mean we’re a couple. It was just—”

“Sex?”

“Please stop saying that word. She was upset, and I went in to check on her, and—”

Jack walked around the corner holding his jar of fireflies. “I need breakfast. The
Magic School Bus
comes on soon.”

Miller pulled out the chair next to him and patted it.

Jack sat down and put his jar of fireflies on the table. “I like waffles.”

Abby pulled out the waffle iron. “I guess I’m the only one who got a decent night’s sleep.”

Miller took another drink from his mug and looked down at Jack. “I thought you fell asleep watching
Looney Tunes
.”

“First I watch
Looney Tunes
. Then I go to bed.”

“That would have been good to know when I left you down here.”

“Yeah. I watch
Looney Tunes
, and then I go to bed. Well I’ll be damned. I need breakfast before
Magic School Bus
.”

Miller was confident that Jack had no idea what he had walked in on last night. If he had, he’d probably be saying, ‘God, that’s good,’ or worse, he’d be moaning. He shook his head. “You’re killin’ me, kid.”

Jack tapped the jar of fireflies. “Yeah.”

Miller smiled and got up to make a cup of coffee the way Emily liked it. "You got this, Abs?"

“Yeah,” she said with a smile and a flick of her wrist. “Go on up and warn her that I know what you two did last night. Make sure she knows I’ll be scarred for life.”

“I’ll pay for your therapy.” He went up the stairs to his room and shut the door behind him. He put the coffee on the table beside the bed. How was he going to play this? Distant and cold or pathetic and begging? She looked amazing in his bed, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling. He could imagine bringing her coffee every morning for the rest of his life. He impulsively leaned over and kissed her cheek.

She opened her eyes and smiled. "Hey there."

"Hey," he replied with relief. "I wasn't sure how you'd react to waking up in my bed."

"Feels good." She looked to the other side of the bed and sat up. "Is Jack downstairs?"

Miller handed her the coffee cup. "Abby's making him waffles."

Emily leaned against the headboard and took the coffee. "I'm sorry about last night. That was crazy, huh? It took me ten minutes to get your shirt back on. I couldn’t even find my underwear. I had to—”

"I wanna do it again."

"Now?"

"No. I mean, don't get me wrong…I could…I'm all manly like that."

"You're horny."

He shrugged. “I told you it's been a while."

"What if he walks in even sooner the next time?"

Miller smiled. "You said, 'next time.'"

Emily lifted her mug to her mouth but he could see her smile behind it. "We were like a couple of teenagers."

"No," Miller said slowly. "We weren't that good as teenagers."

She laughed. "We're pathetic."

"I should have asked if you use any kind of protection.”

“I’m on the pill.”

"So…we're okay in that department?"

"Yeah.” She set the mug on the table. “Do you know if there’s been any word about my dad?”

“Just woke up myself.”

“I guess I need to go back to the jail and try to see Levi again. Should probably go to the hospital too.”

He stood up. "I'll take you when I get back from driving Abby to school."

"Does she know what happened?"

Miller pulled the pink cotton out of his pocket and showed it to her. "Got stuck in my jeans. Abby was kind enough to point them out to me."

"That’s where they were. Oh no." She buried her face in her hand. "I'm so embarrassed.” She looked back at him. "Is she upset?"

"No. Actually, my cool factor went up a little."

Emily reached for her underwear, but Miller held them away. "First give me my shirt, then you can have these."

She kicked the covers off and leapt at Miller's outstretched hand. "I don’t have anything on under this shirt."

He hooked her waist with his free hand. "Then I definitely want it back."

She started laughing. "Give me that.”

Miller tossed her underwear to the floor and pulled at the hem of the t-shirt. "It's my shirt, Em. Get your own."

"You're impossible.” She gripped the shirt, holding the hem where he was trying to pull up. Both of them were laughing too hard to put up much of a struggle.

There was a knock on his door. “Daddy?”

They both let go of the shirt.

“It's okay, Abs. You can come in.”

Abby walked in, biting her lower lip. She looked at Emily and smiled. “Good morning.”

Emily smiled back. “Morning, Abby.”

“I have to get to school.”

“Okay. Get your stuff, and I'll be right down.”

After she left, Miller picked up his green baseball cap on his way out the door. “I’ll be back soon.” He pointed at Emily. “This isn't over."

She threw a pillow at him. He took the shot in the back and turned to see her sitting in his bed smiling at him. It was surreal, and for a second he wondered what he would do if she did leave again. It was one of those moments that come on you without warning and remind you that everything good about your life is fragile and could be gone in an instant. When something like that happens to you once, you spend your whole life waiting for it to happen again.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Will you be here when I get back?”

She smiled. “I promise.”

 

***

 

The drive to school was as awkward as having a 300-pound third passenger sitting between them. Miller recognized this passenger. It was a projection of Abby’s, something she put out there as a way to crowd him so he’d ask her what was wrong. He'd start with the easiest issue and work his way up.

“How’s school been going?”

“Fine.”

“You still worried about Levi? He's going to be okay. I’m sure Emily is going to get him a good lawyer.”

“I know.”

“So you're upset over what happened with me and Emily?”

“No. Well, yes. It's…” She sighed. “It was the laughing.”

"You're upset because she and I were laughing?"

"No. I liked it. You haven’t laughed in a long time."

She was right. He hadn't laughed since…hell, it must've been since before the last time he had sex. Strike that. He just had sex. With Emily.

"Well I think it's about time we both start laughing more, don't you?"

"I'd like that." After a few minutes of silence, Abby said, "I think she likes me."

Miller patted her on her knee. "Who wouldn't?"

"Mom."

The guilt hit like a punch in the gut. He really should have been honest with Abby from the beginning. “It's a lot more complicated than that.”

“It's okay. Emily likes me, and I like her. She's going to stay around, isn't she?”

Miller pulled into the school's driveway. “I think she might. For a while, anyway.”

Afterwards, Miller drove to the grocery store and picked up a bouquet of daisies, a cantaloupe, and a dozen eggs to make Emily a nice breakfast. He realized she may not want to use his shampoo and soap, so he went to the shampoo aisle hoping to find some of that fragrant spearmint stuff she used.

He stood there scanning the shelves of bottles with no idea where to begin. There were a lot more choices for women than men. He didn't even know what brand Abby used. He never paid attention to what she picked out. He lifted a bottle off the shelf, flipped the lid open, and inhaled a heavy floral scent.
Yuck, no.
He put it back and picked up another bottle. It smelled like strawberries.
Nope. Not bad, though.
He'd come back to that one if he couldn't find what he was looking for.

Miller put the fifth bottle back on the shelf when Jerri, the only woman on the Bokchito police force, approached him and gave him a piece of paper.

“What is this?”

“It’s from Levi.”

“Since when did BPD become a messaging service?”

“I just got off work, and I know you take your daughter to school every day. It was on my way home.”

“So you followed me because you felt like helping out an attempted murderer?”

“I went to school with Levi. He was nice to me.” She wheeled around and left.

He unfolded the paper and read the note:

 

Haven’t used my phone call yet. I might callthe school and talk to Abb
y
.

 

Miller would’ve liked nothing more than to call his bluff…like Levi would know the number to the school. However, there it was, that familiar number he’d memorized years ago, scrawled out in Levi’s handwriting. Dammit. He paid for what was in his cart and sped home, wishing he could have had another day—and another night—with Emily before telling her what he'd done.

The tires on his truck threw gravel as he raced down the road to his house. With every pothole he hit, he cursed Levi and tightened his grip on the bag of groceries next to him. He cringed at the thought of explaining it all to Emily, telling her how her grandfather, the only person in her family who seemed to give a damn about her, showed up at his place because she had told him everything, including the fact that she wanted to give her baby up for adoption. He wanted to give Miller the chance to raise his own baby instead of letting Emily send her off to be raised by strangers. He said he thought it was the right thing to do. He wanted to be sure his great-grandchild was well taken care of—something he’d failed to do for Emily.

After all this time, especially after last night, Miller had to find a way to tell Emily.
Abby is your daughter. Your own grandfather gave her to me because you told him she was mine. By the way, you can stop lying about being pregnant with my baby because I know she’s Daniel's.

When he agreed to take Abby, he thoroughly believed she was his. His hope was shot to hell when Abby tested positive for Wilson’s, the same rare genetic blood disease Daniel had.

BOOK: Secondhand Sinners
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