Chapter Twenty-Five
CARA WAS A shrewd creature who’d crawled out of a hole to infest Amarie’s happiness. Of the three people who’d arrived in Service uninvited, Amarie wanted to squash the former Mrs. Calvary like a bug. It grated that the woman had scurried into Service to bury her painted claws into Eli again.
“What a day we had, huh? Russell, my mom, and your ex-wife.” Amarie just let the words hang in the air, like ratty underwear. Both their pasts had driven into town, ripping open old scars. Amarie had exterminated Russell, sending him packing, closing and locking the door on what they once had. Cara was next.
Bethany was safely tucked in at Leah’s. Well, tucked in really wasn’t the right word. She’d left the two ladies at the Calvary kitchen table with a half-empty bottle of red wine, watching old movies on the computer. Seems they both had a thing for grainy, shoot-’em-up movies with Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson. But her mom looked happy and relaxed. And so did Leah. Amarie may have lost her insta-bestie to Bethany. However, she couldn’t recall a time when her mother had cracked jokes or sung aloud. Her laughter held a foreign note, carefree and open to new possibilities. Whereas Eli had been quiet after their celebratory dinner of peanut-butter-and-jelly biscuits. Which was not at all bad considering the crap show in the clinic. Amarie had questions, but she hadn’t quite firmed up her checklist on where to begin the conversation.
“You passing your exam could be sharable content from Calvary Vet today, huh.” From Eli’s position on the couch, he took another draw from the chilled IPA bottle he held in one hand. Circles, dark and defined, cast a hollowed shadow beneath his eyes. The easy smile he flashed when it was just the two of them, the one that sent her ever-present stomach butterflies in motion, stayed locked behind thinned lips. If he clenched his teeth any harder, he would need a Smile Direct Club makeover to cover the enamel stumps where his teeth used to be.
“Even a TikTok sensation is entitled to behind-the-scenes privacy.”
“Agreed. Thanks for that,” he said, pulling her down to his lap. “I’m so proud you, Amarie.”
Hiccup yawned from his homestead, the rug in front of the flameless fireplace. Raspberry, Dove, Formerly, Graffiti, and Artist nestled along his belly, five pairs of paws, making biscuits, kneading themselves to sleep.
“Thank you, boyfriend. So,” she mused, “the kitten cast is still here. Does keeping the kittens mean you’ve decided to accept the Kitty Kibbles offer? They did make you TikTok famous.” Amarie held her breath, hoping against hope that her stubborn man would recognize how good he was at his new job. Yes, it was unconventional, but he excelled at it.
“Afraid not. In two days the bachelor auction is over. Dr. Sexy Kitty will meet with a timely disappearance shortly thereafter.”
Amarie shook her head. All their work, it needed to be continued. “Your five hundred thousand fans, their clients, too, will miss you. Think of the void in your absence.”
“There are a billion other TikTokers, let them have it. It’s not me.”
“Eli, trust me. It’s all you. Your authentic self made the hashtag a viral sensation. Your advice. Your personality.”
He nodded. “We’ll have the money we need tomorrow. Mission accomplished, Amarie.”
“But—but this could be a new mission. What about helping the town raise money for a clinic? A library? Senior center?”
“Whoa. Whoa. How about we say job well done and get down to the real discussion? My ex-wife. I’m sorry you and your mother overheard the showdown with Cara. I forgot to use my boyfriend voice.”
She rested her head on his very broad, and at the moment bare, shoulder. “That’s because your ex-husband howl was in order.”
He’d totally changed the subject. Normally she would object, but since she wanted to talk about the very same thing, why not walk through the door he’d opened?
“Sorry our celebration plans were ruined with Cara’s drama. I’ll make it up to you and Bethany tomorrow,” Eli whispered, placing the half-empty bottle on the floor before wrapping her up in both arms.
“And Russell. Tomorrow sounds good. But after I show my mom the Johnson farm. She wants to walk the grounds where her daughter birthed a calf. We might venture further uptown to the waterfall.”
Eli nipped her side. “It was a foal. And you helped. Reception is terrible that high up. I’m not sure I’ll survive with you so far away. How long does she plan to be in town?”
“Fun fact. Mom has decided she’s not returning to Florida. She’s finally found the strength to leave my dad.”
Eli frowned. “It would tear me up inside if my parents had split up.”
“Huh, it had to be nice growing up with both parents who actually don’t bring verbal ammunition to the breakfast table.”
“Can’t say I remember any weaponry served with the biscuits.”
“I held it against her, you know? Staying with him. But now I know she sacrificed for me. My mom deserves happiness, a safe place to heal, to find herself. I don’t want her to waste any more time in a marriage where she’s disrespected and mistreated. She deserves more than what she’s gotten in this life.”
“Well, she has you. I think that’s pretty fantastic.”
Her tank top rode up, revealing nothing but smooth skin. His fingers teased, alternating beneath soft and firm caresses.
“Right you are. Did I mention how good you are at this boyfriend stuff?”
“Not today.” He grinned.
“Hands down. You check all the boxes, Eli Calvary. But why are you deliberately aggravating my tickle zone?” she asked, releasing a breathy moan.
“I’m very interested in where you want me to put my hands, sweetheart.” The noise that rumbled through his chest triggered an instant response in all the right places. “So, when you say words like ‘zones’ and ‘boxes,’ all husky and low, it gets me to thinking about finding new erogenous areas in the nine abdominal quadrants.”
“Oh, is this dirty talk for nurses? Sign me up for more, sexy.”
“Registered nurse foreplay.” He laughed. “A reward for handling today like pro.” He ran his tongue along her jaw, and Amarie released another moan. Very porn star, which matched her responsive nipples.
“About that.”
“Yeah,” he prompted, between enjoyable kisses.
After the mental gymnastics, which she’d failed miserably at, of processing that she’d actually delivered Eli’s ex to his doorstep, she wanted to reverse course, take the porcelain-skinned princess over to Matt Johnson’s farm for Harry the horse to rip out her honey-colored hair by the roots.
“Why is Cara still here?” She winced at the abrupt delivery. Not the smooth transition she aimed for, but it would have to suffice.
“Apparently, her boyfriend, Sven, whose real name is Steven, took advantage of her. Tricked her out of my money.” His chuckle, tight and humorless, resonated through the hand she lay on his chest. “The house in Virginia, she wants it. She claims she doesn’t have a place to go.”
Amarie sucked in a breath, but the memories of that year living in Prince’s back seat bit and slashed through her resolve to banish Cara, with all haste, beyond the boundaries of Service.
“Hmm… are you considering it?”
“Nope. She’ll be gone tomorrow. No muss. Not a fuss.”
The last thing she wanted to feel toward Cara was conflicted, but here she was, that eleven-year-old girl praying that someone had thrown her and her mother a lifeline. Wasn’t she the shield-maiden of women and children? A life of services to others. At her core Amarie was a giver. Should it matter that Cara had sought help from Amarie’s boyfriend? Adulting—no wonder she’d delayed this journey as long as possible. She swallowed her apprehension, choosing to share the most painful year of her existence.
“The year Mom left my dad, remember I told you we were hungry sometimes?”
“Of course.” Eli nodded, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “You explained the snack packs.”
“We were homeless, Eli. For three of those months, we slept in that old BMW I drive. Other adults, their children called us names—bums, vagrants, trash.” When he tried to sit up, she pinned him down. “Please, just let me get this out.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
“Don’t sound so ominous. It’s just, I know how desperation can tear you up inside. The reason I entered nursing school was to care for the world’s rejected, the nameless faces on the streets, in the shelters, under the bridges.” Even with her degree in hand, she was still that homeless little girl standing at her mother’s side, desperate, begging for food, and disposable.
“That’s why Lourdes’s comment upset you so much.”
Amarie nodded. “Yes.”
“Wow. You and your mom are remarkable.”
“She is. Me, meh. I developed pneumonia while we were unhoused. I’m the reason she went back to my father.” Brave, but solemn, her mother had filled the gas tank with the last of their meager funds and drove them back into the lion’s den. The mood in the car had been as desolate as the long stretches of I-95. Her father’s other woman had vanished along with Princess—and her mother’s joy.
“Don’t blame yourself. The fault lay with your father. His actions created the condition that forced your mom to make a difficult choice to protect you both. Cara’s situation is self-inflicted and there’s not a child to consider.”
“Thank goodness, that would be awful. But if Cara’s telling the truth—”
“She’s not. Trust me when I tell you that woman is full of tricks.”
“I get that, but if she needs help…” She’d probably choke on these words later, but she was who she was. Helping people was her love language and she wouldn’t be afraid to speak her truth for fear of being taken advantage of.
“You’re all sparkles inside and out, Amarie Walker. You’re giving me permission to help my ex.”
“I want her gone, I do. But yasss,” she drawled. “We needed help, and none came. This is probably a test for angel wings that I hope to pass. But who knows what will happen if we don’t offer assistance. Either way, I don’t want a guilty conscience. I’m conflicted about sending you into the fires of Mordor considering Cara’s still wears the ring of power.”
“Sweetheart, that’s a mouth full of rambling.” He squeezed her tight to his chest, but the tendrils of doubts lingered. “If she truly needs a place to live after I take care of the mortgage and your portion of the proceeds, I’ll do what I can. As for my house, maybe it’ll bring the next family some joy.”
Amarie placed a peck of a kiss on his lips, more playful than passionate.
“You have nothing to worry about. Cara is not a threat to our future.”
“Aw, so you’re thinking how awesome I am to keep around.”
He wiggled his brows. “Among other things.”
“Thanks for saying that, I mean look at how we started out. She seems determined to cause trouble, and I don’t know—I just want to make sure we’re not fooling ourselves.”
He took her hand and slid it down to his body. “There’s nothing fooling here. Everything is one hundred percent real and ready.”
“Don’t tempt me with sex when your ex is asleep on your couch.”
“Absolutely not. If you wanted that, you shouldn’t be so darn irresistible. And for the record, you’re the one on my couch. Cara’s on Hiccup’s office bed.” Eli captured her chin. “Remember, you’re my number one girl. Now let’s go to bed.”
“No.” Amarie moved to straddle Eli’s lap. She pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor. “Convince me.”
Because in spite of Eli’s reassurances, Amarie had doubts. The last time a man had had a choice between her and the other woman, she’d ended up homeless, penniless, and manless.