Chapter 25
Heather
T he way Roarke made me explode with that orgasm should’ve left me sluggish and relaxed. A hot shower would’ve felt like heaven. Snuggling under a blanket would’ve been ideal.
I didn’t do either of those things, though. After he left, I slumped onto my armchair and stared at the opposite wall. It wasn’t a trance, but I just couldn’t wrap my head around what the hell had happened. Or how. Why?
It seemed impossible to go from such an unexpected high of an orgasm, a good one, far surpassing any of the mediocre “pleasure” David ever gave me, to plummeting so low with anger and doubt.
Keep tabs?
That reeked of expectations. That because he’d gotten me off, I had to do the same for him?
If Nevaeh hadn’t interrupted, I probably would have. I wanted to. He’d made me feel so good, so treasured and powerful that I wanted to see if I could give him a taste of his own medicine. I’d been eager to tug his pants down and see what he could do with that massive erection that tented his pants.
He was damned well skilled at making me come with his mouth and just two of his fingers. I could only imagine how awesome he’d been at slamming his hard length into me, too.
But to expect it?
To maintain a tally of give and take?
That wasn’t right. It reminded me too much of what had happened—in the beginning—with Davd. The expectations, the demands, the holding-off of returned gestures.
He’s not David.
Roarke is not David.
I had to remind myself that every time I panicked and spiraled with these thoughts.
Roarke is not David.
I needed to remember that and keep it forefront in my mind.
Because David was here. Or could be. And I had to prepare to face both of them.
After the shock of Roarke’s blurted comment about keeping tabs, I settled back into the strong emotions he’d distracted me from. The fear of seeing David, the confusion of doubting myself if I’d actually seen David in town. Then the fury and frustration of feeling like a cornered animal of prey. I didn’t want to know how David could’ve found me. But I needed to prepare myself in case he had.
“Screw this,” I eventually said when the cabin got too dark. I couldn’t sit here all night, stuck in a haze after all the ups and downs of this afternoon. Standing, I turned on a light. Then another. And another. The brightness helped to jar me out of overthinking everything. I showered and dressed in warm pajamas.
I got into bed and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t reduce the negative noise in my mind until I got up and typed Roarke’s number into my phone.
I wouldn’t take him up on his offer. Asking a man to save me, to rescue me, or to defend me still felt a lot like indebting myself to him. Independence could be a good thing, but in the wake of being controlled by a man who’d used a “favor” as the beginning of the process to control me, I was right to be nervous and cautious.
But he’s not David.
Roarke is not David.
It would take more time to train myself to lighten up and having some small hope that good men were out there. The whole world couldn’t be terrible. A balance between villains and victors made sense, but I wasn’t ready to put myself on the line and risk believing that I could find someone who wouldn’t ultimately hurt me or control me.
In the morning, I woke from a terrible night of sleep. I tossed and turned, torn from resting well with strange dreams. Then when I was up, I struggled to let go and fall back asleep, too keyed-up and wired to think and dwell. Then to think and dwell some more. After that, analyzing and wondering worst-case scenarios.
I got up though, yawning and praying that coffee would boost me to look half-alive.
On the drive into town, toward the bank for work, I passed the spot where Officer Marty had pulled me over, and just like that, I was reminded of why I’d been speeding, why I’d been so out of it to break the law like that.
David could be here. That alone sparked me into being more alert. I couldn’t look out for him and truly be on my best guard if I wasn’t fully awake and paying attention.
When I arrived, Fergus offered to get coffee for me.
“I was totally running late this morning and didn’t have a chance to make coffee,” he said in the office.
“What about using the Keurig?” Janelle said as she breezed through the open space where he moved the most as the teller.
“We’re out of K-cups.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve got twenty minutes before we open. Anyone want me to grab something down the street?” He smiled and tugged his fur-lined gloves back on.
“I’ll go with,” I told him. “I think a little walk would wake me up.”
“Yeah, you’re looking like a zombie there.”
I shot him a dirty look.
Nance gave us her order, and since we were going, Janelle added hers on too. In Chicago, everything was delivered and such. And no one would ever pitch in for group coffee orders like this, taking faith the others would pick up the tabs when it was their turn. That was one good thing about the small-town life, I supposed.
“Why are you so tired?” Fergus asked once we walked outside. “Busy night?” he added on with a naughty smile and elbow to my side.
“Not like what you’re suggesting.”
“You’re not seeing anyone in town?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m...not available.”
“Ah.”
Except, I temporarily made myself available last night. On impulse. And it felt so damn good.
“Well, it’s not the toy drive that’s stressing you out, is it?”
I frowned at him. “The toy drive?” I dismissed him with a wave. As we walked down Main, we passed one of the small posters that described the county-wide effort. Donations could be collected all through Burton, and that collection process was one of the tasks with the toy drive project Janelle had given me.
“I had to handle it last year. Nance and I both did. It’s stressful!”
“How so?” I huffed. “It’s just another form of keeping tabs on money.”
“Just watch. People get so finicky about it here. Like they’ll assume something is off. I feel like it’s just that community spirit, where one bad seed rots and makes everyone else assume something has to be wrong, just because they personally aren’t in charge.”
I shrugged. “I’ve got experience with people around here assuming I’m up to no good. As long as Janelle thinks I’m doing the right thing, that’s all that matters.”
He chuckled as I opened the door to the coffee shop for him. “You got that right. If they’re not paying your check...” He blew a raspberry.
“Exactly.”
I wished stress about a work project could’ve been the cause of my problems. Not this headache about David being here. Or worrying that Roarke could be a bad man for me to trust or look to for a good time.
For the rest of the day, I struggled to focus. It seemed that no matter what I did, my thoughts would eventually drift back to last night.
Roarke.
David.
Even Nevaeh. I caught myself worrying about her several times.
This was my issue with working through numbers. They were boring. They were cold and simple. There was no creativity to this sort of busywork, and without engaging my mind that much, I kept falling back to thinking and fretting about what happened not even twenty-four hours ago.
By the time I was finished with the day, I was tired and hoping my fatigue could mean a better night of sleep. We all bade each other goodnights, and when I got into my car, I looked around several times, paranoid that David would be walking around this Main Street area again.
He wasn’t, but that didn’t persuade me of anything. Maybe it wasn’t him. But perhaps it was.
This waiting game would eat away at me. My nerves would continue to unravel.
Maybe I could tell Roarke?
It would be hard, but it had to be better than obsessing about my future alone.
On the drive home, I was extra careful not to speed. I volleyed my gaze back and forth between the speedometer and the road, sticking right to the line.
Letting Roarke in on my past wouldn’t be that hard. He prompted me to lower my guard. He never pushed hard, insisting that I speak up. He had yet to look pissed that I was being quiet.
Probably because he has practice with Nevaeh.
He said last night that she was cagey and didn’t talk much, yet he hadn’t shunned her or shut her out of his life completely.
If I tell him, then that’s an implication I need his help. That I need to be protected and saved.
I pulled in at my cabin and hurried inside, hating that this sensation of being watched was even stronger now.
A couple of minutes after I entered and set my purse down, someone knocked on the door.
“If you’re back again to ask me for anything...” I shook my head as I went to the door. I needed a peephole, dammit, but it had to be Nevaeh. I didn’t hear any vehicle going through. Tires would crunch on the gravel drive.
“What?” I said, flinging the door open and stepping outside, ready to tell that sassy teenager to watch how she acted around me. I didn’t deserve disrespect.
But it wasn’t her.
David stood there.
The sight of him backing up a couple of steps froze my heart. It was locked in terror, and I held my breath in.
No.
No!
I gripped the door for support, but I’d burst through it, so intent on telling Nevaeh off, that I’d exited further than what was safe.
He was here.
He was right here, within reach.
He could—
“No.” I bit it out so harshly I swore my jaw would never stop aching from how tightly I clenched it. Shutting my mouth hard, I clacked my teeth and strained with tension. Bracing for danger.
“No?” he asked, his voice snaky as ever. At first I thought it was charm. Or humor. Now, I knew it to be his thinly veiled grip on his anger. “That’s how you greet me? No ?”
“You deserve no greeting from me.” Tears threatened at the edge of my eyes, but I breathed through my nose to hold them back.
“No what?” he asked, shoving one hand into his pocket. He lifted his free hand to stroke his jaw, as if that made him look pensive or smart.
“Just no.” I shook my head just as the sound of tires crunched behind him on the path. Roarke’s rusty truck came into view, and I felt steadier. I wasn’t alone—if he stopped.
“Whatever you want, I’m not interested.”
“Oh, it’s not a matter of what I want ,” David said in his slimy tone. “It’s a matter of what I deserve. What you owe me.”
Owe. That was how he operated, believing I always owed him something more.
A drone of deafening loudness filled my ears. My pulse thundered there as I feared him taking me back under his watch and control.
“Is there a problem here?” Roarke said, coming closer.
I’d dropped into such a panic, I hadn’t registered that he’d parked. That he stalked over here now to intervene.
Unlike when he intervened at the roadside yesterday, to talk Marty out of giving me a ticket, there was nothing but serious concern on his face. A hint of anger too.
“Nothing.” David sneered at him as he stepped up close.
The contrast between them couldn’t have been any clearer.
David with his gelled hair, plucked brows, smooth skin courtesy of facials and expensive products. He looked a posh and fancy as ever, compared to the rugged masculinity of Roarke next to him. He was filthy, dusty, and wearing jeans and flannel under his thick Carhart. No trim suit for him.
“I’m just here to have my girlfriend come home with me.”
“No.” I shook my head, taking a step toward Roarke. “ No ,” I repeated.
“I insist,” David said through clenched teeth. He stepped closer, likely to grab my hand.
But Roarke moved as well. He stood between me and my ex. His hard body blocked David from getting to me. Tucking me to his side, the rough and tumble ranch hand cleared his throat. “She’s home right here.” His fingers curved over my hip, keeping me close. “And she’s not going anywhere.”
THE END