CHAPTER 13
HELEN
I gather the fabric to create some pleats as I start to glue it into place on the metal lampshade form. I’m more than a little aware of the huge smile on my face while I’m working. It’s impossible for me not to.
Rhodes left yesterday after spending the night with me. This time he hasn’t disappeared.
He’s kept in contact. A lot.
But it doesn’t feel suffocating. It feels reassuring.
And he hasn’t let me forget that I promised not to get involved in the ongoing investigation. It’s not like the man was going to give me a choice. I was in no position to argue either.
I was scared out of my mind out there and regretting trying to investigate something I had no business getting involved in. I’m not too proud to admit I was wrong. Okay, maybe I am, but I’m trying.
It is true that I knew I was fucking up. I should have turned around long before Rhodes found me.
But he did find me.
And as I lay in his arms, his hand slid up and down my back. Even though his touch was gentle, I could hear the barely contained anger in his voice as he ground out, “You can’t ever do anything like what you did tonight.”
I peeked up at him to find him focused on me already. The look in his eyes was intense. It made me want to squirm in his hold.
“I don’t want to scare you, but I’m also afraid if I don’t then you’ll do something like that again.” His voice dropped to a horrified whisper layered with fear, “What if I wasn’t there tonight? What if I hadn’t seen you?”
The breath that rushed out of me was harsh and wobbly.
He buried his face in my hair and took a deep, steadying breath. I understood because his smokey, cedar scent felt like comfort to me.
Even though it doesn’t make a lot of sense.
It feels right.
“I know I made a mistake going out there,” I whispered the words, meaning them to the depths of me. “I was so scared and I’m not going to be chasing down that feeling again any time soon.”
“Good,” he breathed out and I could feel the tension seeping out of him. He gave me a long look before telling me, with all seriousness, “If you do anything like that again, I will arrest you.”
I barked out a laugh of surprise, but he didn’t join me. He simply arched an eyebrow in challenge. I shook my head at him incredulously because it was earned.
“On what charge?” I sassed him even though I fully believed—and still do—that he would follow through without hesitation.
Rhodes let out a sigh but didn’t answer my question. Honestly, he didn’t need to. He was giving me fair warning.
“Please don’t put me in the position of losing you, Sweetheart.” His voice rumbled through me, and I felt enveloped by him in a way that was sweet while also promising pleasure. And I wanted all of it. “I couldn’t bear it.”
The pain in his voice felt real. I melted against him and whispered my promises again because I knew he needed to hear them.
And I meant every word. There’s no way I was going to make the same mistake twice. And I was very aware, even before Rhodes brought it up, just how much danger I was in.
My promise seemed to do the trick and he let it go. But I’m under no delusion about him never bringing it up again. I’m sure he will. Because the fear he felt when I was that close to potential danger was real.
And I fell just a little bit deeper for the man.
I’m hoping he calls today to make some plans. I’ve been trying to ignore the antsy feeling from not seeing him in more than a day, but it’s not easy.
The only solace is that he hasn’t disappeared.
I’ve been channeling my energy, which is a mix of nervousness and hopefulness, into something good. This lampshade is going to be pretty. Delicate. Romantic.
I know just the trim to use, and the fringe is going to make the whole thing vintage in a way which doesn’t feel forced or fake, but reverent.
Memories of a different time.
Echoes of the way things were---good or bad.
Fractals of a memory which may not have ever existed in the first place.
When my phone rings, my heart flutters at seeing Rhodes’s name on the screen. I answer quickly, never the kind of woman who prefers games over presence. Honestly, I expect the same in return.
If he had told me he didn’t reach out because he was trying to make me wait for him, or because you’re supposed to wait some arbitrary amount of time, I probably would have walked away.
His job getting in the way? Considering what he does, and how devoted he is to do doing a good job, I can’t fault him for it.
And he’s certainly changed his behavior since then.
“Hey,” I murmur while putting him on speaker phone to allow me to keep working on my lampshade.
This is one thing that I haven’t shown him. Not yet.
I’m not hiding it necessarily. It just feels precious and precarious. Maybe I’ve just gotten so used to hiding this part of me.
Or maybe I’m just a coward.
Because he could look me in the eyes and call it silly. It’s not like I would even be able to hold it against him. It might be something I love to do, but I realize it is a little silly.
But I also know I sell most of my lampshades within a day of posting them. It is something I’m proud of. Because I should be.
I just don’t need everyone around me to hijack that pride on my behalf. I’m enough.
And Jessi. She knows.
“Hey, Sweetheart,” the relief in his words, like he’s happy just hearing my voice, has my heart fluttering in my chest. “How’s your day going?”
“Don’t you already know,” I tease him. “It’s not like we haven’t been texting most of the day.”
Rhodes chuckles under his breath and I clench my thighs together as I finish up pleating and gluing the panel I’m working on.
“Well,” he drawls, “I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice and not talk to you.” His voice drops an octave, like his next words are precious or a secret, “And all I’ve wanted to do is talk to you. I have no idea how I survived not reaching out to you before. I was a moron.”
My laughter is husky; a side effect of the way this man’s voice curls through my belly. Just a few words and I’m already wet for him. Again.
It’s not my fault. Really. Truly.
Rhodes is sex on legs with a badge.
How can I be to blame for what should be a warning label tattooed on the man’s forehead? But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You’ve been forgiven,” I tell him honestly. My voice is light and bright, “The orgasms helped.”
His laugh is low and rumbly. It does wicked things to me.
“Can I see you tonight?” There’s a note of hope in his voice which worms its way underneath my ribs and wraps around my heart.
I hear my front door open, but I’m not concerned about who it is.
There are times when Jessi pops in, usually it’s when Dad has called her and been an ass to her.
That’s one thing I can’t protect her from since Dad isn’t the type of guy to run making a phone call by me.
He shouldn’t have to, and I shouldn’t have to worry about it.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers the words, breathing life into the feeling which has surrounded me from the moment I got his first text today.
I’ve been missing him too. But I was afraid it was too needy. I was afraid that saying it would be asking too much.
But maybe I’m wrong about that. Maybe being needy isn’t a weakness. Maybe I deserve to ask for everything from another person.
Jessi comes into view and leans her shoulder against the doorframe of my work room. She doesn’t even blink at the mess around me. She’s seen it all before and in much worse states than it is right now.
My sister arches an eyebrow, and I feel my face heat. I haven’t updated her on what happened or how Rhodes saved me from myself. It’s not like I was hiding it; I simply didn’t call her right away. I think part of the reason is it hasn’t entirely felt real.
Even though I hope it is.
“I’d love to see you tonight,” my voice is soft and I swear I hear him let out a sigh filled with contentment on the other side of the phone.
“Can I pick you up and bring you to my place? As much as I’d love to take you out, I kind of want you all to myself right now.” His voice turns bashful, “Is that okay?”
I make a sound of agreement, not entirely trusting my voice. The thought of being alone with him, of being at his place has me swallowing hard. My voice is soft as I offer, “How about I come to you?”
“I guess,” he grumbles in a way which makes me giggle.
And just like that, I forget about Jessi standing there and watching me.
“I need to head to the grocery store and pick up something to cook. Is there anything you hate, or do you have any allergies?”
I fucking melt at the concern and curiosity in his voice. This man.
Oh, how I want him to be mine. Maybe he already is? I’m just not sure, but I know I need to find out and I’m going to.
“No,” I shake my head even though he can’t see me, “no allergies and I’m not picky.” I can’t hide the earnestness and awe in my voice as I ask, “You cook?”
Rhodes chuckles. “I’m not some five star chef or anything, but I can get by. I might have even perfected a few dishes throughout the years. A man’s gotta eat,” the boyishness and pride in his voice have me grinning from ear to ear.
“I’m intrigued to find out what’s on the menu tonight.”
I don’t mean it flirtatiously. I don’t even realize the double entendre in my words. Not until he lets out a low groan which sounds pained and makes me blush.
“You’ll be on the menu if you’re not careful,” he grumbles and my stomach clenches with desire.
The phantom sensation of his hands on my body from the other night has not fully faded and only becomes more pronounced the longer I talk to him. I want him to touch me like that again. I’m pulled out of the fantasy, the memory, when he clears his throat.
“Pack a bag because I slept like shit last night and I know it’s because you weren’t in my arms,” his voice is husky and my body lights up because of it.
“I think I can pack a bag.”
He lets out a low hum before adding, “Good. I’ll text you my address. Let me know when you’re on the way and I’ll be waiting for you. Come over whenever you want, but don’t make me wait too long. I’ve been craving you,” desire drips from every word and sends a shiver up my spine.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you soon, Sweetheart,” he counters before hanging up.
For a moment I just sit there and look at my phone while his words echo around me. His assurance, the way he sounds so sure of whatever this is forming between us, wraps around me. I can’t ignore it and I don’t want to.
It’s terrifying, but I want this. I want it with him. Desperately.
“You like him,” Jessi’s voice has me startling even though I knew she was standing right there. I just forgot for a moment, blinded by the way Rhodes makes me feel.
I look at my sister and am reminded, again, of how different we are. Opposites in so many ways. Her red hair, my dark hair. Her blue eyes, my brown eyes. Her ability to slide into the shadows to protect herself, my need to stand in front of her to try and prevent anything bad from touching her.
But I couldn’t protect her from everything. I couldn’t stop Dad and his expectations. I couldn’t save her from his judgement or the disappointment I’m not even sure he truly feels.
And even though I’m excited about the prospect of what Rhodes coming into my life means, part of me is worried about what moving forward with my life means for Jessi.
I’ve always been here as a buffer. And I’m not na?ve enough to believe that if this goes where my heart is begging me to let it go with him, Dogwood Ridge will continue to be my home.
Will I still be able to shield her? Is it even right for me to keep doing it? What happens when I’m not there to protect her and Dad does something stupid, hurtful, or ridiculous?
My sister’s eyes soften as she looks at me and I wonder, just for a moment, if she knows what I’m thinking. She steps into the room fully and gives me a smile filled with understanding. But there’s something else there too—hope.
“I like him,” I rasp the words. “I think I more than like him.”
Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline as she looks at me with something like awe. “You love him?”
This time it’s not a statement of fact, it’s a question. There’s an earnestness in her voice, but it’s tempered by worry. Or maybe it’s something else holding her back. And maybe she’s hoping that if I can love, if I can trust someone enough to fall, then maybe she can too.
“I think the first time he popped up randomly and my gut told me he only showed up for me, I fell for him,” my words are wistful in a way that only beginnings can be.
“Then he kept showing up,” she whispers the words.
Pain flashes in my sister’s eyes and I know why. She misses the best friend she used to have, the boy who was swallowed up by the Saint’s Outlaws and turned into a man she isn’t sure she recognizes anymore.
They were best friends in school. When they were kids. Before the reality of expectations crystalized into all the reasons they should have never been close in the first place.
And I know it still hurts her and she still feels the loss and abandonment.
“And then he kept showing up,” I agree with her.
My sister closes the distance between us, her eyes bright and a little wild. She grips my shoulder with a force that makes me gasp in surprise.
“This is real? With him?” She’s asking the questions like she already knows the answers.
“I think so.”
“Then don’t let go,” her words are a demand and a plea. “Go. Be happy.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes and hers become glassy in the same way I know mine are. Her fingers tighten slightly on my shoulder, and it feels like being branded with permission.
“You’ve protected me my entire life. You’ve tried to show Dad who I am while making sure I was behind you.
You’ve been like a mother to me, Helen,” her voice cracks, “even though you were far too young to be given that kind of responsibility. I don’t want you to make decisions about your life while considering me and my needs. ”
I open my mouth to tell her…something. Maybe about how I don’t regret a single decision I’ve made with her in mind. Maybe about how I would do it all over again to keep her safe. Or how it has been my privilege. As her sister and in honor of the mother we share but never was able to experience.
But she shakes her head slightly.
“I know you wouldn’t change it,” her voice is thick, “and I can never tell you how much I love you for it. Now it’s time for you to find a future which has nothing to do with me or Dad. Just be happy.”
Tears slide over my skin, and I stand and pull my sister into my arms. We hug and cry together. It doesn’t feel like a goodbye in the way I was afraid it would. But it does feel like change. It’s scary. It’s big. It also might just be okay.
I’m looking forward to finding out.