Chapter 01
“Mom!”
Opening one eye, the fuzzy outline of my daughter hovered at the end of my bed. I quickly reached over and grabbed my glasses, slipping them on my face so I could see clearly.
“What is it, baby?”
”I think we’re late,” she responded, staring at me with her big blue eyes.
I narrowed my own eyes in confusion and glanced at my phone. Eight thirty-two a.m. What the hell?! I’d set an alarm! Grabbing the device, I clicked into the clock app. God dammit. I’d picked p.m. instead of a.m. again. Throwing the covers back I started apologizing.
“Honey, I am so sorry. Can we go through the drive through for breakfast?” I asked pulling a hoodie over my sleep shirt. Pajama pants would have to do. My daughter, bless her heart, had gotten all dressed and ready before coming to check on me. I was grateful I had planned and gotten her outfit, backpack, and lunch ready to go with her the evening before. This was not a typical morning for us. I usually didn’t sleep at all or woke up after only a few hours.
This was the fifth city we’d moved to in thirteen years and Natasha was used to the first day being smoother than this. Thanks to my paranoia about my ex-husband finding us, we regularly moved to different large cities, where I hoped we’d be hard to track and find. We stayed to ourselves,and while she always developed friendships, no one ever came to our apartments. She was allowed to go to sleepovers and live a relatively normal life. I only allowed the schools and doctors to know our addresses. I had even changed my name to my maternal grandmother’s maiden name when the divorce went through.
Wherever we landed, I always thought we were safe at first, but I’d get some sign that made me worry that Clark had found us. A note left on a door. A message left for me at work. It was terrifying and often left us fleeing suddenly with little to no explanation given to anyone we’d come into contact with.
Some people may judge me, but Nat’s father doesn't know that she is his. I’d fought him long and hard for three months to sign the divorce papers in a fiasco of court proceedings, keeping the pregnancy a secret. The divorce paperwork also changed my name back to what it had been before I married Clark Merina. He hadn’t liked that one bit. Within two weeks I’d filed paperwork to change my last name again and had gone with my Nana’s. He’d never cared enough to ask about my family history, therefore he had no idea what that name was.
I still remember the look in his eyes. He stared down at me from the stand during our divorce proceedings. He’d pleaded and begged, even worked up false tears, in his endeavor to get me to stay with him.
No one in town would believe what I’d said about him. The things he’d done to me behind our closed apartment door. It was a small community and Clark had grown up there. He was well-liked and had everyone fooled. The typical narcissist in his natural habitat.
This city was the smallest I’d risked and it was on the edge of simply being a large town. I was just so tired of running and hiding and Nat needed some normalcy. Reading, Pennsylvania just felt like home.
I shook my head. Your daughter is late, Becks. Now is not the time for journeying down memory lane.
“That’s fine, Mom,” Nat replied smiling. I turned and got teary eyed seeing how much she’d grown. She was already standing at five-foot-six at twelve years old. She had obviously gotten the genetics from me, in that department, with my five-foot-ten stature.
My raven haired daughter was resilient and strong. I wanted to raise her to strive for more than just settling. I never wanted her to feel alone in the world as I had after all of my family had passed.
“You have everything you need for your first day of seventh grade?” I asked, clearing my throat.
“Oh God,” she groaned, “are you going to cry again this year?”
“It’s a mother’s prerogative, Natasha Rae Wareman,” I replied as I shoved my feet into some random shoes, and grabbed my crossbody. I was a hot mess but didn't really care anymore. It had been a long time since I’d cared about being overly presentable. I preferred fading into the background and being forgettable. It always helped to hide me from Clark, and after that, the habit stuck.
“Alright, let’s go and maybe I’ll only take three back-to-school pictures!”
She sprinted past me to our small apartment door, screeching that I had a deal, while I shook my head at her antics. I could swing by a coffee shop drive through on my daughter’s first day, in what was hopefully our last new city.
My cleaning job didn’t start until Monday and I still had some funds saved up from selling furniture from this last move. I locked the door behind me and followed Nat at a slow jog to where she bounced on her heels, waiting by the passenger door of my beat up SUV. Slightly out of breath, I reminded myself that I needed to start exercising again.
While I wasn’t severely obese, I was considered overweight by society’s standards and had curves to spare. I’d always been considered pretty, even beautiful sometimes, but I hadn’t cared about that since I had started dating him.
Within ten minutes we had gone through the coffee shop’s drive through that we’d scoped out the day before. A morning like this, called for an extra large, brown sugar, shaken espresso.
I joked, watching out of the corner of my eye as she inhaled her egg white on a toasted bagel, “You could chew your food, Nat.” We pulled into her new school’s parking lot and I hoped that they would be understanding of my child being late on her first day.
My inability to sleep through the night allowed me to stay up unpacking and cleaning everything in the apartment so we didn’t have days of boxes to contend with. I could pat myself on the back for that small achievement at least. Everything had its place and hopefully it would stay there for longer than a year or two this time.
For once, I hadn’t gotten any alarming signs that Clark had tracked us down in the last city we’d been in, so I’d taken the leap and moved one more time just to make sure, and here we were.
Unfortunately, falling asleep at five-thirty in the morning had apparently caused me to set the alarm incorrectly. I was still kicking myself for that, but continued to be grateful for my daughter’s ability to adapt to situations. If the roles had been reversed I would’ve been an anxious mess.
After we climbed out of the car, Nat humored me by letting me snap my three requested pictures by the school sign, and we headed in. These would look great in our photo album. Pressing the intercom button ringing into the office, I glanced over, smiling reassuringly at Nat.
“Can we help you?” a voice asked.
“Hi, I’m Becks, uh Rebecca Wareman. Natasha Wareman’s mother. I registered her yesterday. We’re unfortunately running late today,” I responded.
“Yes! Come in!”
The door buzzed and I opened it so that Nat could step into the office ahead of me. As we approached the receptionist’s desk I was relieved to see a kind smile on her face.
“Rough morning?” she asked, sliding the late form over the worn desk.
“This is all my fault,” I explained, “I didn’t double check my alarm setting and it will not happen again! I am so embarrassed.”
I glanced at the nameplate on the desk, making a mental note to remember her name, as Monica smiled at us reassuringly.
“Honey, the first day of school here is literally just handing out syllabuses,” she said with a wave of her hand, “It looks like Natasha’s first class is home room anyway!”
She handed Nat the slip for her teacher and checked that she remembered where the classroom was. As my daughter hugged me and whispered her love, I assured her I returned the sentiment and would be right outside at three p.m. Then I watched my entire world disappear down the hallway and sent up a prayer that this was finally the place that we could stay.
“Well, thank you for being so understanding,” I said when Nat had turned the corner. I began backing up, giving a small wave to Monica.
“Have a nice day, Mrs. Wareman!”
“Miss!” I corrected, backing into what felt like a warm brick wall, causing me to lose my balance.
Suddenly, large hands wrapped around my upper arms to steady me as I tensed up at a man’s touch. Since I'd left Clark, I hadn’t even allowed myself to think about dating ever again, let alone let a man touch me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said automatically, turning and backing up rapidly, in the other direction, hitting Monica’s desk, this time to remove myself from the stranger’s grasp. I heard her pens and pencils clatter behind me. God, I was such a klutz.
Gray, almost silver, eyes narrowed briefly at my reaction as he seemed to take in my appearance, also allowing me to get a look at the giant I’d backed into.
Fuck, Becks. You had to oversleep and look like this today.
Wait. What the hell was that foreign thought? Since when did I care how I looked around a man? Well, maybe when the man in question looked like six and a half feet of yumminess in a police uniform, you start to remember to care.
He’s a freaking cop.
I tensed up automatically. Had I been overeager in my hopes for this place and being free? Had Clark found me and somehow found out about Natasha? Was he going to sue for custody? Was I being served?
The man in question smiled, “It’s okay. I was just coming in to see who was parked in the no-parking zone out in front of the school.”
Shit and thank God, but also, FUCK.
“That would be me, Sir. I am so sorry. We woke up late and we just moved here…” I trailed off.
That was more information than I typically gave anyone. What the hell was wrong with me today?
“Well, first of all, my name is Lucas Marshall and when people say 'Sir’ I immediately look around for my father,” he joked, smiling. “It’s not a problem if you can move the vehicle now.”
“Of course!” Jesus. Was I going to get a ticket? I didn’t have the extra money for that right now!
As if sensing my worry, he added, “I’ll let you off with a warning since you’re new in town, Mrs…?”
“Miss!” Monica interjected animatedly from behind me.
I turned and looked at her quickly, shocked, and the woman had the audacity to wink at me. Of course the school secretary liked to try to play matchmaker.
“Lucas here works for the local police department and checks in as the school’s resource officer regularly,” she added, “He’s just an old bachelor that refuses to settle down with anyone around here that we know,” she finished as she looked me up and down with a renewed interest.
Oh for the love of God.
“Thanks for that, Monica,” said the man’s deep voice behind me as she snickered, ducking behind her computer monitor. He narrowed his eyes at the monitor where she was hiding before turning back to me with a smile.
“Okay.” I said, caught in his gaze and warm smile, “I’ll move the vehicle right away!”
I clutched my crossbody against me as I slipped past Lucas Marshall without touching him again. I noticed he smelled like cedar, smoke, and sin, when I finally made it out the door.
Stop it, Becks, now is not the time for your femininity to wake up and take note of the opposite sex.
Too much human interaction, and too little caffeine clearly was not an ideal combination.
“Miss,” Lucas’ voice followed me outside. I stopped and slowly turned around to look at him as he raised an eyebrow questioningly. I sighed. Why would he want my name if he said he wouldn't give me a ticket?
“Rebecca…Wareman. But I go by Becks,” I stuttered my reply.
“Becks,” he repeated, watching me. “Maybe I’ll see you around again soon?” He backed away towards the door, winking at me.
Was he flirting with me?
“Maybe,” I muttered, spinning around and hurrying to my vehicle.
I may need something stronger than espresso. I thought to myself as I slammed my car door.
When I finished washing my hands in the bathroom, I straightened to dry them while looking in the mirror. My brown eyes skimmed my body taking stock in a way I hadn’t in a long time. I had long black hair, another genetic trait I had passed down to my daughter. Said hair was thrown up into a messy bun more often than not, the curls driving me nuts frequently. Nat looked like me, although she had gotten Clark’s blue eyes, and was thinner than I had been at her age. Weight wasn’t something I pressured her about after having dealt with that myself my entire life. I just wanted her to be happy, healthy, confident, and love herself.
I snorted a laugh as I took in the outfit I wore to drop off Nat. I was shocked she hadn’t thrown more of a fit about being seen with me. Slipping the plain black hoodie off, I shook my head at my traditional Christmas plaid pajama bottoms and old rock band shirt.
“You really made an impression today, Becks,” I muttered to myself. Kicking off my white sneakers I cringed inwardly at the fact I hadn’t bothered with socks because of the hurry.
Reaching into the shower stall and turning on the water I continued undressing, waiting for the water to warm and begin fogging the bathroom mirror. Tugging my hair down, I gave my body another once-over with some trepidation. I was definitely a mother. There was no hiding that. Carrying Natasha had left stretch marks standing out along my abdomen and breasts. Not to mention the cellulite on my thighs. I guess I should consider them my stripes of valor. I sighed, turning to step into the shower.
My mind wandered back to Lucas Marshall before I could stop myself. That man was dangerous. I hadn’t noticed a man’s looks in over a decade. Not allowing myself even a hookup. Sex had been off the table since the night I’d made my escape from my ex. I was usually too busy to worry about partaking in any sexual escapades during our years of constantly moving.
When I was in high school, I’d read romance novels in lieu of a social life. I was the odd girl out and never had gotten to have the dating life everyone else did. I had always been slightly nerdy and never quite fit in with any particular social group.
I was thirty-eight, had given birth to a child, been married, but could honestly say I had never been on a real date. Never had the sneaky make out sessions in the car or in the back of a movie theater that girls often giggled about. Boys seemed to take advantage of what I could do for them, then dropped me like a bad habit. I thought I knew what it was supposed to be like based on the books I still read sometimes.
I still always dreamt of a romance novel type of love. Most of those dreams died within twenty-four hours of becoming engaged to Clark. I was convinced men like that just weren’t meant for women like me.
That police officer though. He was something I could see myself fantasizing about like I hadn’t done in a long time. Biting my bottom lip I continued rinsing my hair as my mind drifted back to him.
He towered over my own tall frame at somewhere around six and a half feet tall. He was a husky man himself, no gangly limbs or swollen beer gut in sight. I knew he had to be moderately healthy to keep his place on a police force. He’d definitely had some muscles and filled out his uniform nicely. Dark hair and gray eyes had resonated with me and I didn't know why. Maybe because Clark had been so fair in comparison. Dark ink had peeked out of his uniform at the wrists and neck, leading me to believe he was covered in tattoos. His smile had almost taken my breath away and his voice had been deep and done things to my stomach that I hadn't felt in a very long time. I found myself longing for his touch and wondering what it would feel like to have his hands roam over my body. Blushing, I continued washing and shook my head at my own train of thoughts.
Lucas looked dark and dangerous. I was sure when he was out of uniform, and people didn’t know him, they gave him a wide berth. Knowing he was a good guy and sworn to protect set my mind at ease. That man could definitely be trouble though. I had learned not to trust police officers when I’d been married to Clark. They’d sided with him on too many things in that small town.
I wondered what it would be like to be the woman he desired even just once. I wondered what it would be like to be a normal woman and just go on a date with a man. Hell. Maybe we could hit it off. Maybe we could end up back at his place. Maybe he’d take control and sweep me onto his bed and…
What the actual hell?!
I hadn’t thought about a man in the real world in over a decade. Most of my fantasies consisted of the fictional men in my romance novels. The kind that took charge and didn’t let a woman think too hard about things in the bedroom. Yet, here I was, blushing like a virgin and daydreaming about a man I had just met, at my daughter’s school, and he was a cop. I definitely needed a nap or more coffee. Maybe a shot of tequila? I laughed at myself.
I needed to get my head back in the game. I decided a long time ago that I would never be in a relationship again. After countless dead end attempts of being used, and the traumatic disaster of a marriage, I’d decided it wasn’t in the stars for me. I was a mom. I had a job. Those were my whys in life. Nothing else mattered and I couldn’t let the first man I felt sexually attracted to cause me to falter off the path.
I stepped out of the shower and looked at my towel-wrapped body in the mirror. Lucas Marshall had apparently woken something in me that had been dormant for some time and I could see fear beneath the resilience in my eyes.
“Snap out of it, Becks,” I whispered, “you’ve got way too much baggage for someone like that.”
I couldn’t believe that in an instant, one man had managed to work me up like this. I had worked so hard to stay ahead of Clark and off his radar. This was the first peace I’d felt in years, enough to try to lay roots down. I sighed. I just couldn’t go throwing myself headfirst into the possibility of a relationship after thirteen years. Let alone with a police officer.
Walking into my bedroom, I started finger combing my hair out. I wanted to run to the store to get some groceries, and cleaning supplies I noticed I was short on after unpacking. With work starting soon, I didn’t want to have to spend more time running errands in my down time while I was trying to settle Nat into our new life here. I hoped she’d branch out and get involved in some extracurricular activities this time. She'd never seemed interested before because of how often we had moved.
I sat down on my bed after throwing on some comfortable jeans and a shirt. In times like these, lost in my thoughts, it was hard not to feel guilty about how messed up our life seemed. Nat was healthy, seemed happy, and I of course took better care of her than I did even myself. It was just the constant moving, one-sided friendships, and leaving friends behind that I worried about.
I didn't want her to fear friendships and people the way her mother did. I wanted her to have more people to support her than I ever had as well. I wanted her to have memories of friends during school and sleepovers. I wanted her to feel like she belonged. My mind was made up. I was better off alone and ready to run if I needed. No ties and no losses had been my motto for over a decade. It wouldn’t change now.
I grabbed my car keys and slipped my shoes on.
“It's settled. Keep your head in the game, woman,” I muttered to myself, heading out the door.