Chapter 6
Guilt gripped Lakin for making Troy sleep on the couch.
His back was injured, and he was too long for the sofa.
While it was better than if he’d tried to sleep in his truck like he’d threatened, she should have given him her bed.
But she would have been tempted to share it with him if she hadn’t closed and locked the door between them.
There was nothing between them now as she stood over the couch and stared down at him.
His handsome face was relaxed, no grimace on it as he was curled up on his side.
He looked fine. Too fine for her to resist, so she hurried past him and out the door, closing it softly behind herself so she wouldn’t wake him up.
So she didn’t lean down and brush her mouth across his firm lips. She didn’t run her hands over his muscular chest. She didn’t straddle him on the sofa and make love to him like she wanted. She wanted him so much, but she felt as if the only reason he’d stayed was to protect her.
She didn’t need him to take care of her; she needed him to let her take care of him for once. But even when he’d been hurt, he hadn’t reached out for her help. And that hurt her so much.
She wanted to be there for him like he tried to be for her. But he hadn’t tried that hard lately. He’d been gone so much.
While he was sleeping peacefully, she hadn’t been able to rest at all the night before.
The break-in had rattled her, and even though she was comforted that she wasn’t alone in the cabin, she hadn’t been able to sleep.
Troy was so close, yet not close enough.
She’d wanted him beside her, his arms wrapped around her, her head against his chest.
Maybe she should have unlocked her door and asked him to join her in bed. But they wouldn’t have slept then, either. And all that passion would have clouded her judgment even more.
Because she hadn’t slept, she headed straight to Roasters, in desperate need of caffeine.
That wasn’t likely to assuage her guilt, though.
She didn’t feel guilty just over making Troy sleep on the couch; she felt guilty over being mad at him for keeping things from her when she was doing the same.
She was a hypocrite because she hadn’t told him yet what she’d done about the auction of the Shelby Hotel.
She would talk to him. After her coffee…
It was earlier than she usually stopped at the café, so hopefully she wouldn’t run into Billy Hoover or Eric Seller.
The last thing she needed was either of them asking about her future with Troy again when she was so uncertain of it herself.
She would probably burst into tears if they questioned her about her relationship today.
She was tired of waiting for Troy to be present in their relationship. She wanted to start their lives instead of just planning for a future that seemed to never arrive. And she wanted him to want that, too.
The guilt she’d felt earlier dissipated some. She had every right to be angry with him. She was also too hurt and proud to welcome him back with open arms like she did every time he came home after a long time working away.
Although he hadn’t been just working this time; he’d been hurt.
She hated thinking of him lying alone in a hospital bed waiting for paralysis to go away, worrying that it wouldn’t. He must have been terrified.
But he was the one who’d chosen to go through all that on his own. If he’d let her or his family know, they would have been there to support him. To love him…
Did he no longer want her love or support?
She needed to ask him these questions instead of asking them of herself. But first she needed her coffee.
She easily found a spot to park her SUV. Roasters wasn’t that busy yet. There were only a few other patrons sitting at the tables, and one couple was in line in front of her when she walked into the café with two bright blue Roasters mugs. Troy had one that he left at her place.
She almost wished the line was longer. Then she would have more time to think about how to talk to Troy. She needed to get through to him that if he loved her, he should let her be there for him. And then she had to tell him what she’d done when she hadn’t been able to reach him.
She released a small sigh that drew Fay, the barista’s attention. “Coffee’s coming, Lakin. I just brewed a fresh pot when I saw your SUV pull up outside.”
She passed both mugs over the counter. “I need two today, please,” she said just as a yawn slipped out.
The younger woman nodded. “I understand why. I didn’t sleep at all last night, either, not after hearing that terrible news about poor Dawn Ellis. I was really hoping she would be found alive.”
Lakin gasped. “They found her?” Why hadn’t Eli told her? Probably because they had to verify her identity and notify her family. Her poor family. “Are they sure it’s her?”
The woman nodded. “Yeah, late yesterday just on the outskirts of town. They tried to keep the story from coming out, but someone must have leaked it.”
Neither Eli nor Kansas had mentioned it yesterday, but then they’d been more concerned about Lakin and her intruder. And maybe they hadn’t wanted to scare her any more than she already was. No wonder Kansas had kept advising her to be cautious.
“That’s so sad,” Lakin murmured, and she felt guilty again.
She should have been happy that Troy was alive, that he hadn’t been hurt worse.
Instead she’d gotten hung up on how he hadn’t called her when he’d been hurt.
At least she and his family could see him again, could be with him. Unlike Dawn’s family.
The barista sighed, and her eyes misted a bit. “We definitely need to be careful out there.”
Lakin nodded. “Definitely.” She was especially glad that Troy had spent the night. Even though she hadn’t slept any better with him there than she probably would have without him, at least she’d been safe. “And please, make that second coffee a regular with a shot of espresso.”
“You must be really tired this morning,” the barista said with a smile. And then the young woman must have remembered—that was Troy’s drink. “Oh…” Fay glanced around the restaurant “…that hot boyfriend of yours is back in town?”
Lakin nodded and tried not to be disappointed that after ten years, he was still only her boyfriend. Not her husband or even her fiancé. Apparently, she didn’t need Billy Hoover or Eric Seller to ask about the future of her relationship; she was asking herself.
“I’ll hurry it up so you can get right back to him,” the barista promised.
A few minutes later, Lakin was trying to juggle both mugs and open the door when someone opened it for her. “Thanks,” she said as she stepped out.
But instead of walking into Roasters, the man followed her to her truck parked at the curb just outside the café.
Her skin chilling with uneasiness, she looked up at him.
He was tall with a rangy build, iron-gray hair and a lot of lines in his face.
One of them was actually a scar, and it ran jagged down the left side of his face.
Despite the wrinkles, he was probably just in his sixties, maybe even late fifties.
While his hair was gray, his brows were black, like his eyes, and bushy.
Her uneasiness increased. She glanced into the café, hoping that the barista saw what was happening even though Lakin herself wasn’t sure what this was.
“I can take it from here,” she assured him.
She set the coffee mugs on the roof of her SUV so that she could find her key fob in her purse.
She wasn’t sure if she would need it to unlock her doors or to sound the alarm button on it.
There was something menacing about the man. Or maybe that was just her paranoia.
“Lakin,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time, girl.”
She tensed with even more fear. How did he know her name? How did he know her at all? “I… I don’t know who you are,” she said. And some instinct told her she really didn’t want to know him.
He pressed his hand against his heart. “That hurts. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s been a long time since I saw you, girl.”
She shook her head. “I don’t remember you.”
“You were just a little girl,” he said. “My little girl. I’m your father.”
Instinctively she shook her head. Her father was handsome with kindness and gentleness that radiated from him. She glanced around, wishing he was running around town like usual. But he’d probably already been out for his morning run and was back home again with her beautiful mother.
She shook her head again, denying his claim. “No…”
He narrowed those beady dark eyes of his and leaned closer. “I am your biological father,” he said. “You must know that you’re adopted. You must remember me and your mother. You weren’t a baby when you went missing.”
“I didn’t go missing,” she said. “I was abandoned.” And nobody had come looking for her. That was why the Coltons had been able to adopt her after they’d taken over fostering her. Nobody else had claimed her. “And I was only three years old.”
“So you don’t remember me at all?” he asked, suspicion in his dark eyes. “But I remember you, my sweet little girl.” He smiled at her, but it didn’t seem to quite reach his eyes.
Maybe he wasn’t happy because she’d made it clear she didn’t believe him.
Should she? That was what Will and Sasha Colton had taught her; to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.
To believe what they said until they were proven wrong.
Because nobody had believed young Caroline Colton that she had a stalker… until it was too late.
Was this man a stalker? Was he the one who’d been watching Lakin?
He didn’t look like he could be her father any more than the Coltons could be biologically related to her. From her darker complexion and hair and features, she was clearly part Inuit. This man wasn’t. The only thing they had in common was the fact they both had dark eyes.