Chapter Twenty
Kenna
What did I do?
I roll over in bed and check my phone. It’s five-thirty in the morning.
I’ve barely slept at all. I would blame it on the running toilet, but I’d only be fooling myself.
I rub my hand over my chest, my heart already aching over my impending loss.
And I had to go make it even worse by sleeping with him.
And then finding out even more details about him that did nothing to dissuade my ever-growing feelings.
Am I just one of those ‘love the one you’re with’ girls who assumes every relationship she’s in is the relationship?
No. Carter is different.
Did I say the same thing about Cyrus? I honestly can’t remember. I picked him because he seemed successful. A good provider. He promised me a future. A stable environment for Amelia. It was all I’d ever wanted. How stupid I was not to want more. How na?ve to think money equaled love and security.
I laugh out loud at the last thought, because oh, how I’ve been proven wrong. So very wrong. Was my father right all along? Is money the devil’s playground?
Not wanting to waste any more of my thoughts on my dad and my ex—they’re only tamping down the electric vibe that’s still coursing through my veins, courtesy of Carter—I pad quietly out of the bedroom.
I use the bathroom and then stare at the running toilet.
“I’m a grown-ass woman,” I murmur. “I should be able to fix this.”
I run through the same troubleshooting steps I did last night.
I jiggle the handle. Nothing. I take the lid off and check the chain.
Attached. This time, though, I go a step further, and when I press down on the rubber flapper thingy, the tank starts filling.
Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. I release it when water flows over my hand, but the water immediately starts draining.
I sigh. It’s the flapper thingy. I don’t suppose…
I open the under-sink cabinet, and Voila! There are two brand new flapper thingies behind the extra toilet paper.
Of course there are. Haven’t I learned by now the guy upstairs is perfect?
I hold one up. How hard can it be to replace one of these?
A quick internet search tells me what I need to know, and I begin.
Shutting off the valve behind the toilet, I flush to empty what’s left in the tank.
I replace the flapper, turn the water back on, and stand back, proud of myself.
But then I frown into the mirror, realizing I’ve just made it so Carter won’t have to come down and fix it.
“Nice job, Kenna,” I whisper sarcastically.
Shuffling over to the coffee maker, I look outside through the French doors.
The sun hasn’t risen yet, but there is that pre-dawn glow.
I feel my shoulders slump knowing I’ll only be here for what, three or four more sunrises?
Carter said the parts will be in tomorrow.
It’ll take a day or two to fix the car. Does that mean I’ll be on the road this Saturday?
My eyes close. Is it bad that now I’m wishing the parts get delayed? I’m torn between wanting to get out of here ASAP so as not to dig myself in any deeper, and having more time with the guy I just know I’ll be comparing all other men to for the rest of my life.
I shake the small bag of coffee. Darn. There’s definitely not enough in here to keep me awake today. Looking at the ceiling, I wonder if Carter would mind if I borrowed some of his. I haven’t heard footsteps. I’ll just run up and quickly grab some.
Throwing on my robe and some fuzzy socks, I head up the stairs, opening the door at the top slowly as it tends to stick and make noise. I eye the chain dangling to the side—the one I’ve never used—knowing it’s just one more thing on the long list of things I love about him.
Love?
My heart misses a beat when I think back to something similar I said to him last night. About loving a man who’s not afraid to cry.
Most men might have taken issue with that particular word being used only a week after meeting someone. It slipped out. And I didn’t really mean it the way it sounded. Did I?
It’s crazy to think these strong feelings I’m having are actually love. After all, I thought I was in love with Seth, Jerry, and Cyrus—the only other men I’ve ever slept with.
Sex doesn’t equal love, Kenna.
When I cross the kitchen, sparing a glance down the darkened hallway, I scold myself once again for last night. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
I’m as silent and quick as a Ninja as I pour some of his breakfast blend medium roast coffee grounds into a small Ziploc baggie.
Turning around to head back to the stairs, I freeze. Carter is leaning against the archway, wearing only sweatpants, eyes ablaze like he wants to eat me alive. “Morning,” he says with a cocky grin.
I hold up the bag. “Coffee. I ran out. I hope you don’t mind.”
He smiles. “What’s mine is yours.”
Those words. Bile rises into my throat as they remind me of what Cyrus said last year. What’s yours is mine. Would Carter think it went both ways if he found out everything there is to know about me?
Of course he would. Everyone does.
“Well, thanks.” I turn to leave and toss another thought over my shoulder. “Oh, and I fixed the toilet. No need for you to come down.”
“Kenna,” he calls out behind me when I reach the stairs.
But I don’t stop. I don’t even look back. I walk through the door and close it. I close it on the conversation. I close it on him. I close it on whatever this is or was going to be. And just to punctuate the thought, I use the chain lock.
Then I curse the lone tear that travels down my face as I descend the stairs.
~ ~ ~
“Mommy.” Amelia looks up from her drawing and glances behind me. “There’s someone at the glass door.”
My heart falls into my stomach and fear squeezes my spine as I turn. Has he found us? But then fear turns into relief when I see Allie’s smiling face. My hand comes to my heart as I blow out a long, cleansing breath. I walk to the door, open it, and wave her in out of the cold.
“Sorry.” She cringes. “I didn’t mean to scare you. In all fairness, I would have texted, but we failed to exchange numbers the other day.” She holds out her phone. “Here. Add yourself to my contacts.”
I take it and do as she asks.
“Seriously, are you okay, Kenna? I could swear all the color drained from your face for a minute there.”
I shake my head. “I’m fine. I had a bad dream and I’m a bit jumpy today.”
“Must’ve been a doozy. But I have just the thing to get your mind off it. I know you must be tired of being cooped up here all day. Want to come for a tour of the winery?”
My eyes widen, because, dang that sounds fun. “Really?”
“Tuesdays are pretty slow for me anyway. How about it? Amelia too. My family loves kids.”
Skeptically, I ask, “Did Carter tell you to ask me?”
Her eyebrows slam together. “Carter? Why would Carter ask me to take you on a tour of the winery?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I thought maybe he was trying to impress me with the town or something. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”
She stares at me until I look away. When I look back, she’s smiling this big Cheshire cat grin.
“When do you leave?”
“This weekend?”
Her head tilts and her eyes narrow. “You say it like you aren’t sure.”
“Well, my car has to be fixed first. That’s supposed to happen by the end of the week.”
“But do you want it to happen by then? That’s the million-dollar question.” When I raise a brow at her brazenness, she waves off my look. “Sorry. Not meddling. Anyway, are you up for that tour?”
I bring my hands together in a praying motion. “Please tell me there’s wine involved.”
She laughs. “As much as you can drink.” She dangles her keys. “I’m driving. I already installed the car seat I keep around for my niece.”
I smile. “Give us five minutes.”
Amelia and I are ready in three. Allie hooks her elbow around mine and we walk next door like two best friends heading out on the town, my daughter in tow. It makes me sad to think that when I leave, Carter might not be the only person I’m going to miss.
~ ~ ~
After a long afternoon at the winery, Amelia is asleep in the back of the car as we head back into Calloway Creek.
I absolutely loved seeing the winery and meeting Allie’s family. What surprised me most is how normal they all seem. Her parents especially. They’re billionaires, yet they acted the same way Carter does—like people who work for a living and take nothing for granted.
I really like Allie. Even more so than I previously thought. She might just be the one person I know who would never ask me for anything.
“I have a question for you.”
“Shoot,” Allie says, her eyes focused on the road.
“You seem so normal and grounded for someone who comes from so much wealth. Don’t people always want to take advantage of you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like asking you for money. Things. Trips. Cars. I don’t know. It just seems like everyone would have a sob story or a reason you should be generous toward them.”
“Oh. Well, I won’t say it’s never happened.
But it’s rare. Maybe it’s because Calloway Creek is such a small town and everyone knows everyone and has grown up together.
” She spares a glance at me. “You know, I’m not sure anyone’s ever asked me that before.
” When I’m silent, she asks, “Kenna, are you in trouble? Do you need money?”
“Oh, gosh, no. Not at all. I didn’t mean to make you feel—”
She reaches over and touches my leg. “It’s okay. You didn’t make me feel anything.”
“I was just being curious. You live in a middle-class neighborhood, and your best friend is an auto mechanic. That just seems…different to me.”
“Different than what?”
I shrug. “Than how I pictured rich people, I guess.”
She laughs. “People with money aren’t any different than everyone else.
They just have larger bank accounts is all.
Believe me, we go through shit the same as everyone else.
Don’t be fooled, there’s plenty of tragedy and trauma behind all those greenbacks.
” Her eyes close briefly before she stares straight ahead, unblinking, like she’s having a flashback to one or more of those tragedies and traumas.
“I’m sorry. Of course there is.”
I don’t pry. It’s not my place to. But I do offer a friendly smile. “Well, I’m always up for drowning our sorrows over a bottle of wine.”
“A girls’ night? I might hold you to that. It’s my turn for a question.”
“Okay.”
“I know I said before that I wouldn’t meddle. But dang, Kenna. The way you two looked at each other Saturday night. It was just… Well, it reminded me of how Asher and I used to look at each other. How we still look at each other.”
I feared this might come up, and I stare out the windshield, avoiding even the hint of eye contact. “Was there a question in there?”
She giggles. “Carter hasn’t told us much about you.”
I don’t reiterate that she still hasn’t asked a question. “He doesn’t know much about me. I’m just his temporary tenant.”
We stop at a red light, and she glares over at me in a you’re full of shit kind of way. “Just his tenant, huh?”
“Like I told you earlier, I’m just waiting for my car to be fixed.”
“But do you have to leave once it is? Are you going somewhere for a job? Because if you need one… Look, I might be overstepping, but our receptionist just gave notice, so we’re going to be needing a new one soon.
” She squints at the road. “Then again, for all I know, you’re a CPA or a molecular biologist and I just insulted you with the offer. ”
I laugh, but it’s not really that genuine. “I’m not a molecular biologist. In fact, I used to be a receptionist for a law firm.”
She smiles. “Reeeeeeeally?”
A scene plays out in my head. Me being just an ordinary woman in an ordinary town working an ordinary job, then coming home to the anything-but-ordinary guy who seems to set my world on fire every time he looks at me.
God, the thought of staying here is more than a little appealing. But all I have to do is read the texts on my phone or go through the police reports to know it’s not possible.
“Yes, really. Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need a job.”
She cocks her head. “Is there another guy?”
A small puff of air rushes out of my nose. Yes, there’s another guy. But not in the way she’s thinking there might be. I shake my head. “No.”
“But you have to leave?”
I nod. “Yes.”
When we pull into her driveway, she shuts off the car and turns to me. “And you’re not going to tell me why?”
I glance back at Amelia, wanting so much to be able to confide in a friend. But is she a friend? This is literally only the second time we’ve hung out. Still, I’m drawn to her kindness. Her spunk. Her normalcy.
Even if I wanted to tell her, this wouldn’t be the time. When Amelia is sitting just a few feet away. Amelia—who knows nothing of any of this. The threats. The police. The men.
“It’s… nothing.”
The garage door opens, only I’m fairly sure Allie hasn’t opened it. Asher appears as it fully lifts. He runs a hand through his hair and strides toward the car. “Thank God,” he says when Allie opens her door.
“What is it?” she asks, clearly looking worried.
“I was on a Zoom call and wasn’t paying attention to the monitor.
Jesus, Al, after their nap, they somehow figured out how to climb out of their cribs.
And then…” He shakes his head. “Well, let’s just say the hallway walls are going to have to be repainted.
And thank heaven for non-toxic crayons. They might be shitting rainbows for a week. ”
Allie’s hand flies to her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh my God, seriously?”
I chuckle to myself. Sounds like something Amelia would do.
While Asher continues the play-by-play, I get Amelia from the back. She wakes when I pick her up. “Come on, baby. Time to go home.”
Home.
There’s that word again.
I stare over at Carter’s house. It’s a modest, three-bedroom, ranch-style home with a walkout basement. It’s nothing special. It even needs a bit of work. A paint job. New shutters perhaps. But it’s nice. It’s cozy. And it’s so damn inviting.
But is it the house, or is it who lives inside it?
Arms wrap around me as I ponder the thought. “I’m going to hold you to that girls’ night,” Allie says.
I don’t remind her again that I’m leaving in a matter of days. “Thank you so much for today. It was so nice to get out of the house and do something fun.”
She laughs. “Despite the tiny town, there are some fun and interesting things to do here.”
I look over at Carter’s house, and more specifically, to his bedroom window, knowing that yes, there are certainly some fun and interesting things to do in this tiny town.