Love Me Gently (Deer Creek #1)

Seven

Cole

Now

* * *

I had a view of the damn stadium. Of all the hotels, of all the event and conference centers, I got stuck waking up in the morning and going to bed for the last three nights with the Gators logo shoved in my face.

Thankfully, I was leaving tonight.

I shoved the curtains closed, the sadistic part of me compelled to open them every morning. Like I’d see her. Like in a city of a half million, people I’d somehow spy her on the street. I had no clue where she actually lived and had quit trying to follow up on her life hoping she’d come back to me after she got married.

Mostly.

I had stopped myself at seeking out Jonathan’s address. Knowing what I knew of him it was probably buried under a half-dozen LLCs to keep his residence hidden.

Not a bad idea considering the kind of man he was. The wealth he had.

I could still remember the day I ran into Trina’s parents at church, her mom crying, her dad angry. I’d tried to avoid them, but that didn’t stop me from overhearing their conversation. They’d just gone to New York, begged by Trina to go meet the new man in her life. At that time, she’d been on the cover of a teenage health and beauty magazine. She was the face of a drugstore skin care company.

The first time I’d seen her face since she left Deer Creek was while I was in the checkout line at a gas station with a Mountain Dew and a fistful of beef sticks. I’d been equal parts appalled, ecstatic, and mournful. All three hit hard and fast, and I spent the weekend in my apartment, blocking out the world around me.

So tight was the hold she still had on me years later when her parents mentioned that man during summer break and were devastated that they weren’t going to be invited to her wedding, I spiraled for weeks.

Wedding. At twenty-two years old, she was getting married.

I should have been able to let her go then, but it wasn’t until another year went by and I met Marie.

Now, I was in Trina’s city. Marie had given up and walked away from me and our family, and I couldn’t blame her. Twelve years since Trina walked away from me and as I stepped out of the hotel to head to a coffee shop before going to the conference center, I was scanning the streets like I’d actually get a glimpse of her.

What good would that do? Nothing.

Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was close. So much closer than she’d felt in years.

The fall sun hit me hard and fast in the eyes, and I squinted. It was early October, and days like this made me glad I lived in the mountains. Hopefully, we’d be getting snow by Thanksgiving. Down here in Atlanta, they’d be sweating hanging outdoor Christmas lights. Around me, people bustled in their rush to get to work. Men in suits and dress pants and polo shirts hurried to wherever they went with their faces tucked into phones, unaware of anything around them. Women in similar style dress rushed right along with them, heels either clicking the pavement or peeking out of their work bag, while they had AirPods shoved into their ears, phones in their hands. Scowls were tossed every which way as they focused on themselves.

This was only one of the few things I hated about cities. Everyone thinking the world revolved around them, day in and day out, expecting people to step out of their way and no short amount of rudeness given if that didn’t occur.

Manners were nonexistent. Thinking of your neighbor as your brother was gone. These days, people thought only of themselves. Their own worries and plans…

I couldn’t wait to get back to Deer Creek.

Only nine more hours and then I was on the road.

I pulled open the door to the coffee shop, unoriginally named The Coffee Shop, and took my place in line. Ten minutes later, I had my double shot Americano in hand, pushed open the door and stepped out.

Immediately, a flash of light pink slammed into my shoulder, making me jump back. My cup, on the other hand, flew in the other direction and landed on the woman’s shoulder that had barreled into me.

“Hey,”

she called out and spun.

And the world stopped. Right there, in the middle of the bustling sidewalk, in the doorway of The Coffee Shop, my entire world stopped as the woman in pink opened her mouth to say something and then froze.

Gaped at me like she was looking at a ghost.

And I suppose she was — if I was the ghost of the past. Pretty sure I was doing the same, but since I’d been thinking of her, I recovered first.

“Trina,”

I breathed, and had the wherewithal to step out of the doorway I was blocking. “I…”

“You spilled coffee on me,” she said.

“Trina,”

I called her name again. Had to. Had to know this woman was who she appeared to be and wasn’t a figment of my imagination.

She blinked and unfroze. “What are you doing here?”

I stepped further from the doorway, and hoped she’d come with me. She scanned the sidewalk, eyes focusing on something in the distance before she took a step, then another, toward me.

“Cole,”

she finally said.

My name exhaled from her lips like a song.

I cracked a smile. “Hi, Trina.”

Her lips curved, fell. “I…I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Detective conference.”

“Oh. You’re a detective. That’s good.”

Her bottom lip found its way between her teeth and the world around me silenced.

“Yeah…”

It was just her and me, her gorgeous, thick and blond hair and wide, round blue eyes, lighter than I remembered. Somehow duller, too. And was that... “What happened to your cheek?”

She jerked back like I’d slapped her and whatever light remained in her eyes dimmed. “I should go. It was nice to see you.”

She stepped away. On instinct, I reached for her. She flinched, yanking her arm away from me as she turned white as a sheet.

My voice was softer when I called her name again.

I swore there were tears swimming in her eyes when she shook her head. “Don’t, Cole. I need to go.”

“Hey! There you are!”

A woman’s voice rang out, and Trina froze, head whipping in the direction.

I followed her gaze and found a woman in cream-colored, wide-legged pants and a pale blue shirt with a wrap tied at her hip sauntering toward us, smiling widely at her friend. Her eyes widened as she caught me standing nearby.

“I was waiting for you at Delu. But it seems you got held up.”

The woman’s eyes jumped from Trina’s to mine and lingered. “And you are?”

“Cole. An old friend.”

“Cole.”

She said my name with intention, drawing it out, like she’d heard it before. I knew the moment recognition hit. Her eyes slid to Trina’s. “Oh.”

“We ran into each other on the street.”

Like she had to defend herself. Irritation spiked in my veins. The hidden bruise. Her flinch. The caution in which she held herself now, even though this woman had been excited to see her…

Something was wrong. Definitely.

“And your name?”

I asked the woman.

She blinked, maybe surprised I’d asked. Maybe surprised I didn’t know who she was considering Trina’s current social status. “Valerie. Nice to meet you, Cole. What brings you to the city?”

So she did know who I was. “Police officer’s conference.”

I really needed to get going but my stomach rolled at the thought. “Can I see you again?”

I asked Trina. “Before I leave town?”

“No,”

she said and stepped further away. “I don’t think there’s any point in that.”

“We should go, Katrina,”

Valerie said. Regret flashed in her eyes when she looked at me.

I couldn’t figure the two out. She was either a genuine friend to Trina or something much darker.

“You’re right.”

Trina steeled her spine and rolled her shoulders. The coffee stained her pink shirt, but it was forgotten. At least to her. “It was nice to see you again.”

Her tone had gone cold.

Vapid.

I detested it.

“Wait.”

I pulled out a business card. “If you change your mind, or need anything, Trina?—”

“Katrina. It’s Katrina now.”

“You’ll never be that to me.”

Besides the fact she’d always hated her name and hadn’t even used it when she modeled, this Katrina in front of me was definitely not Trina. “Take the card. Call me. If you need anything. Help. Or want to talk.”

She kept her arms crossed. “I’m fine.”

I ignored her. “I’ll drop everything and be here. Swear it. You need me, I’m here.”

I focused on her bruised cheek again. It was hidden well, and a couple days old, but no makeup could make it vanish completely. It only told me she had practice doing it.

Which meant she’d had one before, and there were few ways a woman repeatedly got bruises on her cheeks.

Valerie reached out and plucked it from my fingers before she tucked it into a side pocket in Trina’s purse.

“Goodbye, Cole.”

Trina spun on nude heels and looked back. “Valerie. We can’t be late.”

“Right.”

She pushed out her lips, looked at Trina, then back to me. “It was nice meeting you.”

And as the woman hurried to catch up with Trina, slipping her arm through Trina’s, she looked back once… genuine worry on her face.

Something was wrong. Something big and dark. I didn’t need to be a police officer to put the pieces together.

It wasn’t until she was gone that I realized I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye.

Which was probably good, because I wasn’t sure I had the strength to say it to her again. Instead, before they vanished down the sidewalk, I cupped my hands around my mouth and called out, “See you again, soon, Trina!”

She didn’t respond, but the friend lifted her hand in the air in acknowledgment.

It was something. At least I knew she heard me.

My phone buzzed on my hip and suddenly, the noise of the city returned, yanking me out of the last few minutes. I grabbed it without paying attention to the name or number. “This is Paxton.”

“Hi, Daddy! Mommy said I could call you before school!”

I glanced at my watch. Nine. Her bus would be coming any minute. “And I always love to hear from you, Junie bug. You ready for the bus?”

“Yep! When will I see you?”

“Tonight, pumpkin. I’ll be back home tonight, but it’ll be late, so Grandma’s going to get you from Mommy’s, and I’ll come and tuck you in when I get back okay?”

“Or you could come tuck me in at Mommy’s.”

I could…but I wouldn’t. “But then Grandma will miss seeing you, too. So let’s go with Grandma nicely today and tell your sister I love her, too?”

“Do you love me?”

“With everything I have and everything I am, sweetie pie.”

“Did the conference not go well?”

My mom, Bridget Paxton, could know everything about me with a look. Today, it didn’t take her mother’s intuition to sense anything considering I held a glass of bourbon in my hand. I rarely drank, and yet ever since my run-in with Trina I’d been craving one. Fortunately, I’d held out until I finished the conference, got on the road, and got home and tucked June and Ella into bed.

Both were sleeping, but their murmured love you’s and soft, sweet hugs had managed to dampen my fury to a simmering anger.

“The conference was fine.”

I sighed and scrubbed a hand down my face before gathering the strength to meet her concerned gaze. “Ran into Trina on the street.”

“You did? How? What? How is she?”

My mom clasped her hands together in prayer. Ever since her parents weren’t invited to her wedding and essentially cut off, they’d been desperate for her to return home. Something wasn’t right. We all knew it.

Trina might have gone to New York to chase her dreams and managed to catch them against all odds…but she’d changed. Now I suspected why, and it was worse than what her parents thought.

They thought Trina got swept away with wealth and celebrity-status and decided her small, southern town pastor dad and stay-at-home mom were too simple for her. That they weren’t good enough.

I doubted their professions or their simple life had anything to do with Trina’s distance, but had everything to do with the man who caused her bruised cheek.

“Chance encounter on the street.”

I chuckled at the memory. Crazy how it was twelve hours ago. Seemed like a lifetime already. “She slammed into me leaving a coffee shop and I spilled my coffee all over her.”

“That doesn’t tell me how she is.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t really give me anything. Barely said hello to me and couldn’t wait to get away.”

My mom’s lips flatlined and her eyes narrowed. “That’s not Trina.”

I debated for a minute. My parents were still close with hers. Hard not to be when we all still went to the same church, gathered at the same potlucks, and went to the same local stores they always had. The population of Deer Creek might have doubled, but those who were here before the growth were as tight-knit as ever.

“Nothing about her was,”

I admitted. “And you gotta promise not to say a word to Mr. and Mrs. Mills.”

I might have been close to turning thirty-one, but I’d used their first names maybe twice in my life. It never felt quite right, despite their constant reminders for me to do so.

“Cole, I don’t know…”

“Then I can’t tell you. It’d kill ‘em, Ma. I swear it’d absolutely destroy them.”

Her chin trembled and I waited as the fight raged through her before she sighed. “Okay. I promise. It’ll stay between us. And maybe your father if I need to share.”

“She’s been beaten.”

My throat clogged as I said the words. They’d been trapped so deep inside of me all day it was almost a relief to get them out. Not so much when Mom winced with sympathy for her.

“You sure?”

“Covered bruise on her cheek and she had a practiced hand in doing it. I can tell, Ma. She wasn’t…she’s in pain. That much was obvious.”

“The poor thing.”

My mom hugged herself and shook with sorrow.

The girl we’d all loved…so many still did, even if she’d turned her back on us all. I knew why she did it to me and had long since forgiven her for her decisions.

I stayed true to my word. I hated her for a day…maybe more, but after the hatred and anger faded, there was still only the love I had for her remaining. No matter how hard I tried, I could never quite kick that either.

And now the only woman I’d ever truly loved was in danger. In pain. Living with a man who thought he owned the world…or at least the South, and my hands were tied.

Mostly.

“What are you going to do?”

my mom asked.

“I’m going to save her.”

Somehow. Some way. I’d stand by my word. I’d always be there for her. Now I just needed to figure out how.