Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Sarah really, really needed to have fun tonight.
Stressed about leaving Heartache, she had called her counselor on her “for emergencies only” private line to confide about the letter from Brandon.
She’d regretted the confidence as soon as the words were out.
Sure, it had felt good for a nanosecond to share the truth with someone, but what if her counselor told her dad?
Theresa had said Sarah needed to think hard about going to her father with the information or else they’d need to “revisit” the issue.
Did that mean Theresa would tell him anyhow? He’d lose it.
Plus, what if he made her open the letter?
The thing felt like a bomb in her purse that she had to handle carefully.
What if there was some weird detail in there about her mom or her mom’s death?
She couldn’t stand for the whole nightmare to come back just when they’d finally, finally put some space between them and that awful night.
She couldn’t go backward. Refused to return to the days when she woke from nightmares five times before dawn and cried through the hours she didn’t sleep.
“Hey, New Girl.” A guy’s voice called from behind the bleachers. “Are you coming down or do I have to go up there and get you?”
Her heart raced.
She turned on the cold metal seat to see Lucas standing on the grass while kids flooded out of the stands to either head toward the parking lot or up the hill for the party.
“It depends,” she shouted back, a tingly excitement taking hold and chasing away the worries about everything else. “If you keep calling me New Girl, you’re going to have a tough time getting me to go anywhere with you.”
He folded his arms.
“Is that how it is?”
“Definitely.” She had no idea where this boldness had come from. She’d been taking other kinds of risks this year, but not with boys.
Especially not ones she genuinely liked.
“Then I guess I didn’t make the same impression on you that you did on me.” He didn’t seem to care that other kids noticed them talking.
A few even pointed and whispered.
Would he really make a scene like this unless he’d broken up with the girlfriend?
“Is that so?” She edged closer to the bars where she peeped through to watch him.
. The lights had gone out right after the soccer game and the sun was setting, but her eyes had adjusted to the growing dimness. Hints of purple edged the sky.
“You’re really not coming down here, are you?” he asked.
“Not unless you remember my name.” She was pretty sure he remembered her name.
Although she worried just a little that he hadn’t given in and said it yet.
He nodded slowly. Watching her. Then he walked toward the bleachers.
A thrill shot through her. He was coming for her. By the time he rounded the corner of the bleachers, the seats were empty except for her. He didn’t bother finding the stairs. He stepped up onto the first level and took big steps diagonally to her.
The shortest distance between two points…
Her breath caught in her throat when he reached her. He stood a step below and leaned over her. One hand landed on the metal seat on either side of her butt.
“Hey, Sarah.” He drew out her name in a way that made her shiver.
“Hey.” She felt nervous inside, not like the night at the playground where she’d been on edge. “You did know my name.”
“Of course.” His dark eyes wandered over her face as if he was going to memorize her. “I just wanted to wait to use it until I was nice and close to you.”
His voice became softer as he loomed nearer. Sarah’s heart ricocheted in her chest.
“Oh?” She was just full of eloquence tonight. She bit her lip to stop herself from kissing him.
He smelled like soap and something spicy. Her mom would have known what it was.
“Yeah. Like this.” His lips closed over hers with a tenderness that had been missing the first time.
He didn’t kiss her so much as he savored her like something sweet and delicious. She didn’t bother trying to make things happen faster. To do anything else besides sit still and enjoy it would take away from the incredible kiss.
When he pulled back, it took her a moment to open her eyes.
He watched her and she wondered what he saw. A girl who was falling for him? He’d be surprised when she told him she had to leave town tonight.
“I heard you had a girlfriend,” she blurted out with zero forethought.
“I did. But since I knew you were more of a troublemaker than me, I thought I’d better break up with her before I saw you again.” His breath was warm and minty against her lips.
“You’re blaming me for your breakup?” She wanted to kiss him more, not talk about some other girl so why had she brought it up?
But it bugged her that he’d avoided her the past few days.
“I’m saying I couldn’t stay away from you and I’m too much of a nice guy to hurt her.” He straightened and held out a hand to help her up.
“I don’t know about the nice-guy part. Rumor has it you’ve got a reputation around town.” Wrapping her fingers around his, she tucked her phone in her purse.
“One mistake shouldn’t be a black mark against me forever,” he muttered darkly.
“Sorry—”
“No. It’s not your fault. People talk.” He kept her hand in his as they walked down the steps and onto the cool, damp grass. “I’m trying to do better. Be better.”
“So what are you hanging around a troublemaker for if you’ve reformed?” She pulled on his hand enough to stop him. The hillside was quiet, the last car pulling out of the parking lot in a disappearing trail of red taillights.
In the distance, country music played and kids laughed, but it seemed so far away.
Lucas, on the other hand, felt very real.
“I told you. I couldn’t stay away. I remember what it’s like to feel like you’re teetering on the edge of running wild all the time.” His words were surprisingly serious after how much they’d teased each other. “Maybe I know what it’s like to need someone to—hold you steady.”
Sarah’s chest squeezed.
“What if we just end up making each other wilder?” She shouldn’t have let him break up with some nice girl for her, especially when her father was forcing her to go home.
How upset would Lucas be—rightfully so—when she disappeared after this?
“You let me worry about that.” He slid his hands along her hips, his touch leaving a path of warmth wherever they went. “Maybe I’ll reform you.”
She knew he was teasing again. Kind of.
But part of her worried. It wasn’t Lucas’s job to change her—to make her into the kind of person she wished she could be. Her counselor had told her that was Sarah’s job.
Right. Easy for her to say.
She squeezed Lucas’s hand tighter as they quickly climbed up the hill to the party. Sometimes, if you ran fast enough, trouble couldn’t catch up.
“I’m going with you.”
Erin pulled a sweatshirt off a hook near the back door and threw it on after Remy’s terse explanation. He planned to go looking for Sarah at her party since she wasn’t answering her phone. He was worried.
Erin wasn’t clear on the details of what Sarah was dealing with.
However, she couldn’t be sure if it was because Remy wanted to keep their personal lives private or because he didn’t understand himself.
All Erin knew was that she’d gotten a reprieve from his inevitable departure from Heartache and she couldn’t help but be a little grateful for that.
“No.” He shook his head. “I can find her. I need to focus on Sarah and figure out what’s going on with her.”
“So I’ll leave once you locate her.” She zipped up the sweatshirt and opened the folding doors to the laundry room off the kitchen, certain she’d find some shorts to throw on. “But at least you’ll have some help. I know where that field is and it’s not going to be on your GPS.”
She found a jean skirt and stepped into it, pulling it over the skimpy silk robe she’d worn into the kitchen to make them something to eat after the most incredible, world-rocking sex. That seemed like forever ago.
“There’s a bonfire in a small town. I think I’ll find it.” His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense.
She read the rejection in every taut line of his body.
“You really don’t want me to go.” She wrapped her arms around herself, finally getting the message. “Okay.” She took a step back. “I’ve never been a clingy woman, and I’m not going to start now. I only wanted to help.”
“I grew up on a bayou. I punted around in a pirogue, fished off a dock I shared with water moccasins and—on occasion—a three-hundred-pound gator.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “So some days I take exception to the implication that I can’t find my own daughter at a neighborhood party.”
She’d touched a raw nerve. No surprise really. Intimacy exposed those raw spots. Intellectually, she knew this.
It still hurt to have him push her away with both hands. How many times had she tried to help her mother as a kid, only to have her mom yell at her, belittle her or ignore her?
“Right.” She stuffed her hands in the pocket of the sweatshirt and headed for the refrigerator, taking deep breaths to stay level. Not engage. “Want a drink for the road?”
She pulled a soda out of the fridge and popped the top.
“I’m good.” His jaw jutted. “Sorry to leave in a rush.”
“Good luck.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“Erin—”
“Don’t.” She didn’t want to hear him blame the situation with his daughter, or his past, or anything else for why he needed to leave on such a sour note.
“We knew all along you’d be leaving after this and I went into it with my eyes wide open.
I’m not sorry about what we did. But if you say any more about why this was a bad idea… I might be.”
He took a deep breath and, for a second, she thought he might argue with her. So she wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved when he turned and walked out her door.
Maybe she was a little of both.
She set aside the soda she hadn’t really wanted and sat at her kitchen table.
With her sister on the road, she didn’t have anyone to talk to.
Her mother could be a helpful ear every now and then, but other times she didn’t come to the door when Erin knocked.
Some days, she could deal with that, knowing her mom was bipolar.
But today? She wouldn’t do well if she discovered she was locked out of her mom’s house.
Nina had gone back to Nashville to be with Mack. Bethany might be around, and would surely be sympathetic to the frustrations of complicated men. But it was hard to open that door with her sister-in-law since it also invited commentary about Scott, which was hard for Erin to hear.
When her phone chimed with a text, she was surprised.
That it was from Remy surprised her even more.
Did he want help after all?
Don’t forget to install an alarm system.
Shoving the phone aside, Erin locked the doors and went upstairs. Bypassing her bedroom—now full of too many memories—she lay down in the guest room and tried not think about the fact she’d given herself so completely to a man she’d met only a week or so ago.
No, she didn’t regret it. One of the reasons she’d let herself think about being with him was that he’d be leaving Heartache.
While she might not like what that said about her, she couldn’t deny that him being on a plane back to Miami right now would be easier on her heart than him staying in town and not wanting anything to do with her.
Any hope she’d had of him being her rebound guy had disintegrated when he’d gotten the phone call about Sarah.
Like it or not, Erin would have to face the consequences of taking things to the next level with a man who’d told her—more than once—that his life was too complicated to get involved with anyone right now.
That made her a) too stubborn for her own good; b) attracted to the wrong sort of men; or c) following patterns of trying to help people who were impossible to comfort.
Closing her eyes, Erin feared all of the above were true.
When was she going to stop trying to be the strong shoulder for people who didn’t want one?
She’d wasted months with Patrick trying to help him find joy in a life mired in work—introducing him to the arts and encouraging his painting.
She’d started the whole Dress for Success program because it rubbed her raw to see Jamie struggling through life when Erin knew a way to help.
She was a helper by nature, but she knew that’s not what Remy needed from her.
Tonight, she couldn’t think her way through it because she was emotionally raw herself.
When her phone rang again, this time with an incoming call, she bolted upright.
“Hello?” She vowed she was not running out to help Remy find that damn field.
“Erin?”
Her nerve endings tingled. Not in a good way.
“Who is this?” Her voice scratched on an uncertain note.
“Don’t hang up. It’s Patrick.”
She damn well wanted to hang up. But shock glued her fingers to the phone as the past reached through the airwaves. No words came.
“Please, Erin. We need to talk.”