8. Marlee
Chapter 8
Marlee
It wasn’t easy to convince Seth to let me out of bed. If he had his way, he would keep me there all day and all night, with one orgasm after another. My legs still felt wobbly from his attention. I lost count after coming so hard that I saw stars and forgot my own name.
I scoured Seth’s closet for a spare set of clothes that would fit me. Since he was several inches taller than me, I had to roll up the cuff of his sweatpants, but his t-shirt was roomy after getting stretched out by his broad shoulders.
“Are you sure that you want to do this?” Seth asked.
He parked his car at the curb, one arm propped on the steering wheel as he turned to look at me.
“I can’t avoid it forever,” I countered, twisting my fingers together.
Through the windshield, I surveyed the damage of my house. I didn’t even really get a chance to think about it as a home. Sheriff Beck had called and given the all-clear after the police were done collecting evidence.
Now I faced the monumental task of picking up the pieces of my life.
“You could change your mind,” Seth offered. “Go back to bed. I’ll order takeout that will knock your socks off.”
I breathed a laugh and cast a sideways glance at him.
“I’m sure it would somehow knock the rest of my clothes off, too.”
He grinned with a shameless shrug. My gaze followed Seth as he climbed out of his car and circled around to the passenger side, opening my door for me. Despite my resolve to keep this relationship casual, I was sliding down the slippery slope of my feelings. I found myself looking to him for security and comfort amid this nightmare I’d been living through over the past few days.
It should have scared me—opening my heart to him, letting down my guard. Instead, I felt strangely calm. And I was relieved that he’d agreed to help me pick through the ruins of my home, salvaging my life. It wouldn’t be an easy process, but at least I had the knowledge that I wasn’t doing it alone.
“Where do you want to start?” Seth asked, gesturing at the blackened remains of my house. “Living room? Bedroom? Kitchen?”
“My office,” I said. “I’d like to see if any paperwork survived. Then we can move to the bedroom. Maybe I’ll get lucky and my closet wasn’t damaged too badly.”
After Seth retrieved a few empty cardboard boxes from the back of his car, we picked a path through the house to my office. Wet ashes coated the floor in a layer of sludge. Glancing in the kitchen as I passed, I saw my dirty dishes in the sink and the cereal box I’d left on the counter, now blackened with soot. I bit the inside of my cheek with frustration at how quickly my life had turned upside down.
I left San Francisco to get away from my cheating ex and the memories I saw of him everywhere I went. I’d barely begun to build my life here in Romeo. It wasn’t fair that it went up in smoke after only a few weeks.
When we reached my office, it looked like the blaze had been minimal here. Many of the papers on my desk were singed, though still intact. Seth set the cardboard boxes on the floor and I started loading them up with anything I wanted to salvage.
“Did you do these?” Seth asked, gesturing to a swath of papers on a table by the window.
I glanced up from my desk briefly. Then my eyebrows rose as I saw my sketches in Seth’s hands. He held them as delicately as if they were butterfly wings.
“Oh, those are just…doodles.”
I gulped, hoping he’d take the fib without question. But as soon as his gaze flicked to me, I knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
“Marlee, these are incredible.”
He smoothed out a large architectural sketch of a fairytale cottage with a brick facade, a fireplace, and an attached sunroom.
I ducked my head and focused on sorting through my desk.
“I’ve always liked designing homes. Piecing them together. Creating living spaces.”
“Is that how you got started in real estate?” Seth asked, moving to the next sketch in the stack on the table. I winced, wishing I could stuff them in a drawer and hide them away. Why didn’t that damn fire burn them?
“Sort of,” I hedged.
Seth went still and quiet. I could practically feel his gaze boring into me.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, sweetheart, you can just say so. Getting these cagey answers out of you is like pulling teeth.”
I sighed and attempted to brush the soot and ashes off my hands, but I only succeeded in making more of a mess.
“When I was a kid, I spent hours dreaming up home designs,” I said. “I filled dozens of sketchbooks with drawings—from sleek modern mansions to eco-friendly homes with solar panels and rainwater collection systems.”
A pause lingered in the air as I scrubbed at my soot-stained palms.
“Let me guess,” Seth said. “Someone didn’t approve.”
I shook my head.
“My father. He was a damn good realtor—like a bloodthirsty shark who knew how to go for the jugular when he closed his deals. I was thirteen years old when I announced at the dinner table that I wanted to be an architect. I wanted to make my dreams become a reality.”
I winced at the memory, the consternation on my father’s face, the pained silence that loomed overhead like a thundercloud.
“My father scoffed and said I was being childish,” I continued. “I could make two or three times more money as a realtor than I ever would as an architect.”
Seth blew out a breath and rubbed his forehead, leaving a streak of soot behind.
“I can’t say I’m a fan of your father.”
“Well, he was right,” I countered. “I owe my entire career to him. He took me under his wing and taught me everything he knows. I’m successful because of him.”
“No,” Seth replied. “You’re successful because you’re smart, determined, and a hard worker. And being a realtor was never your dream to begin with.” He gestured to the sketches. “I can tell this is really what you want to do.”
I swallowed and said nothing. For years, I’d sheltered that dream away from everyone else. I sketched architectural designs on my days off just to kill time. I never considered I could actually pursue it seriously.
“My father didn’t want me to become a firefighter, you know,” Seth said.
I raised my eyebrows.
“Really? Why not?”
Seth considered for a moment, sifting through my sketches. His gaze traced the lines I’d diligently mapped out—walls and windows and floor plans, until a living space took shape on the page.
“Dear old Dad wanted me to be a lawyer,” he said. “We butted heads about it so many times that I ran away at sixteen. The fire chief took pity and allowed me to bunk in the firehouse, doing odd jobs around the station for cash until I was old enough to join the academy.”
“I can’t picture you being a lawyer,” I said, studying him.
He breathed a faint laugh.
“Good. I never wanted to stuff myself into that box. It would break me.” Seth raised his gaze and met mine. “Maybe you came to Romeo looking to escape your own box.”
I hesitated. Is that why I’d really left California? My old life held too many memories that were suffocating me—an overbearing father, a cheating ex, a job that was slowly shaping me into a robot that had no life, no identity outside of work.
What if this was my second chance at the life I actually wanted? What if I could become the architect I’d always dreamed of? What if I was falling in love with Seth after all and we could grow old together?
It sounded…perfect. It sounded like heaven.
And most of all, it sounded too good to be true.
“You said it yourself,” I replied. “I’m not a small town girl. I’m a city slicker. Maybe Romeo is a short pitstop on my way to a bigger city.”
Something flickered in Seth’s eyes—a shadow of disappointment or hurt. I cursed myself for being so flippant. He’d taken care of me since the fire, picked me up from the hospital, washed my hair, and wrapped me in his arms when I needed it the most. I could let down my guard with him in a way that I’d never experienced with anyone else.
And yet, here I was, casually talking about throwing that away in favor of moving somewhere else.
“I thought you were settling in pretty well,” Seth said.
There was no mistaking the faintest hitch of hope in his tone. That hope was a dangerous thing. I had hoped my ex wasn’t cheating on me, even though the evidence was right in front of my face. I had hoped he would apologize. I had hoped we could still salvage our relationship.
Before I could take a breath to speak, Seth’s phone rang. My own phone had been lost to the fire, and I still needed to get a replacement. I returned my focus to my desk, stacking ashy papers in the cardboard boxes Seth had provided.
“You found the arsonist?” Seth said in disbelief.
My head snapped up and met his gaze. He raised his eyebrows with a nod, holding out his hand to me. Without thinking, I moved to him on instinct, interlacing our fingers together.
“You’re absolutely sure?” Seth asked.
I searched his face, gauging his reaction. He seemed…reserved. His expression was unreadable, carefully neutral, giving nothing away. But his grip on my hand tightened.
“All right,” he went on. “Yeah, I’ll let her know. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”
After hanging up, he turned to me.
“Sheriff Beck has the arsonist in custody. He’d like both of us to meet him at the station.”
“Did he give a name? Does he know why the arsonist did all this?”
Seth shook his head, but his gaze slid away. He wasn’t telling me everything, I realized with a sinking feeling in my stomach.
When we arrived at the police station, Sheriff Beck greeted us at the door with a nod of acknowledgement.
“Follow me to the observation room please. The arsonist is giving her confession as we speak.”
Her confession. Not his. The arsonist was a woman.
I glanced at Seth, expecting him to gloat a little and say I told you so, but he kept his gaze straight ahead and didn’t look at me. My stomach twisted into a knot of dread. Something wasn’t right.
After entering the observation room, I came face to face with the one-way glass that overlooked the interrogation room. Seated at a table with an officer I didn’t recognize was an unassuming woman, probably in her late 20s, with a fluffy pink sweater, a sweet smile, and a pink heart on her necklace.
I frowned, confused.
“Is this a joke? That woman set the fires? That woman locked me into my burning house? She looks like she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Sheriff Beck lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug.
“In this job, I learned a long time ago that looks don’t mean a damn thing. Motive is the deciding factor and this little lady has it in spades.”
Seth scrubbed his hand over his mouth and dropped his gaze to the floor, rocking back on his heels. He was strangely quiet and it made me nervous.
“What kind of motive are we talking about here?” I asked. “It seems like everyone else in this room knows what the hell is going on except me and I’d like some answers.”
Sheriff Beck and Seth exchanged a glance between them. When a beat of unbearable silence passed, Sheriff Beck clucked his tongue with a wave of his hand as if to say, all right, I’ll do the dirty work.
“Amy Stewart and Seth Teagan used to date. They broke up three months ago. She’s been trying to get him back ever since. When you showed up in town, she got jealous and took action.”
I blinked in surprise, struggling to comprehend what the sheriff was telling me.
“You mean…all of this was because of Seth’s ex-girlfriend?”
Sheriff Beck’s expression turned sympathetic as he pressed a button next to the one-way glass. Amy Stewart’s voice filled the room, crystal clear and unwavering while she confessed to her crimes.
“Yes, I set the fires. I saw Marlee Jenkins move in to Romeo and I knew she was bad news for Seth. She’s pretty, confident, and financially successful. Seth would gobble her right up. I couldn’t allow that.”
“So, you decided to sabotage her business,” the officer said.
Amy examined her powder-pink nails.
“I didn’t want her to get comfortable in town. She’s not welcome here.”
“And what about throwing that firework through Miss Jenkins’ office window? Or locking her inside her burning home?”
Amy shrugged.
“I would do anything to protect Seth. We’re soulmates. We belong together. I won’t let anyone come between us. He will never love Marlee Jenkins as much as he loves me.”
Seth blew out a breath and scrubbed the back of his neck.
I withdrew my hand from his grasp. Logically, I knew it wasn’t his fault. He had no control over a jealous ex-lover. But there was no denying the fact that I felt blindsided by all this. Maybe if I hadn’t fallen for Seth, none of this would have happened.
Was I destined to pick men who would continue to ruin my life no matter where I went? Would I have to live with these walls around my heart forever?
Amy’s words echoed in my head.
He will never love Marlee Jenkins as much as he loves me.
What if that was true?
“I have to go,” I muttered.
“Marlee, wait,” Seth said with a mix of steel and desperation in his voice.
Turning on my heel, I marched out of the station without a backward glance.