30. Wentworth
THIRTY
Wentworth
Unsure of what to do next, and honestly, a little keyed up after helping Kait get undressed, I camped out on the front porch and waited for her fiancé to come back. I caught the splash of his headlights across the driveway as I was coming down the stairs.
Like she predicted, he didn’t even slow down. Didn’t park and start banging on the door, looking for her like I hoped he would. After everything she told me, I deeply regret that the only thing I broke was his face and a couple ribs.
Holding on to the hope that he’d come looking for her, I fell asleep, waiting for him.
When I open my eyes and sit up, the first thing I see is her. It’s still early—the sun, still too weak to warm the cool mountain air, sparkling on the calm surface of the lake. She’s sitting on the dock, her feet dangling over the edge of it like she’s thinking about jumping.
Go skinny dipping.
Remembering the entry in her notebook, I instinctively look at the table I left it on.
It’s gone.
I know it was there last night. It was the last thing I remember looking at before I fell asleep. That it’s gone can only mean one thing.
Kait came out here and found it, open on the table next to me. She knows I read it.
Shit.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my cell phone and switch it on. Ignoring the avalanche of missed calls and texts, I pull up my brother’s number.
Me: Don’t freak out but I need you to come get ranch girl and take her home.
He hits me back almost immediately.
Damien: WTF?!? Abs has been losing her fucking mind looking for her. She said she left with Brock last night and never came home
Me: Just come get her when you can. I’ll explain everything when you get here. And bring her some pants.
Rather than answering more questions or diving into the pile of voicemails waiting for me, I turn my phone back off. I’ll deal with them later. When Kait isn’t here and I can focus on something besides her.
Standing slowly, I navigate my way down the porch steps and across the gravel drive. The house sits on a hill, the gentle slope of it leading down to the dock Kait’s sitting on. Carved into the side of the hill is a set of flagstone steps, connecting the dock to the driveway. Intent on apologizing because what seemed completely justified only a few hours ago now feels like a gross invasion of privacy, I make my way down the steps. Walking the length of the worn, wooden dock, I can hear her talking, her words becoming clearer with every step I take.
“You don’t understand. I can’t just—” She pauses like someone is talking back to her and I stop in my tracks a few yards behind her, suddenly sure she’s on the phone and that I’m inadvertently eavesdropping before I remember that she told me she doesn’t have a cell phone. “Neither of you ever understood what it was like. You were his only son and Abbey is his favorite. I never had the luxury of—” This time when she stops talking, her shoulders go stiff and her head turns slightly in my direction like she’s listening for my footsteps on the dock. This is the second time I’ve caught her talking to herself out loud and even though I want to ask her who she’s talking to, I don’t. I’ve invaded her privacy enough.
“It’s just me,” I tell her, closing the distance between us in a few strides. Lowering myself to sit next to her on the edge of the dock, I see the notebook—now closed—sitting between us. The hem of my shirt, the one I gave her to sleep in, riding high on her thighs. Looking up at her, I find her looking across the lake. “He’s gone—he rolled past the house about an hour ago.”
She gives me a stiff nod while she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. Chewing on it, gaze slightly narrowed and aimed at her bare feet, dangling over the water, she sighs. “You read it.”
Watching her profile, I give her a nod. “I did,” I admit, answering her honestly. “I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to do. I was angry but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have gone—”
“It’s okay.” She gives me that same smile she’s been giving me all night. Small and brittle around its edges. The one she gives you when what she really wants to do is scream in your face. “It’s just a stupid bucket list.” Flicking me a quick, guarded look, she shrugs. “Not like it matters.”
“Don’t do that.” I say, face collapsing into a frown.
“Do what?” She turns toward me, shifting her torso around so that she’s completely facing me.
“Dutifully accept what everyone around here seems to be working their asses off to convince you of.” I tell her, my tone harder than I intended. “What you want matters.”
“It really doesn’t.” She shakes her head, swallowing hard like the words she just said taste bad. “I’m never getting out of here. I’m never going to get to do half of the things on that list. In two weeks, I’m going to be married and—”
“Two weeks is a long time, Sunshine,” I say, cutting her off because I don’t want to hear about what happens after. Because everything between us has changed again, in the blink of an eye and I don’t want to think about her tied to that piece of shit for the rest of her life. Instead, I pick up the notebook between us and flip it open. “I think we can cover a fair portion of them before then.”
“We?” When she says it, her cheeks flush because we both know that almost all of her recent entries have to do with me.
Things she wants to do to me.
Things she wants me to do to her.
“Yeah…” I give her a crooked grin while I flip through the pages of her notebook. “ We .”
“Went—” She shakes her head at me, the flush in her cheeks creeping down her neck to settle on her chest. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. ”
“That’s too bad,” I tell her, still grinning. “Because I happen to think it’s the best fucking idea I’ve ever had.” Stopping on a random page, I look down and read one of her bucket list items at random. “You want to put horse shit in your sister’s pillow? I’ll follow that horse of yours around with a bucket. You want to tell your father to fuck off? I’ll give you my cell phone so you can call him.” Flipping the page again, I shake my head. “I don’t know the first thing about teaching a horse how to count but I’ll YouTube that shit if I have to. Matter of fact—” I lean into her, lifting my arm to slip my hand around the back of her neck to slowly pull her even closer. “There’s not a single thing on that list that I wouldn’t be more than happy to help you cross off…” Skimming my thumb along the slope of her cheekbone, I drop my gaze to her full, lush mouth. Her lips part, a moment before that pretty pink tongue of hers licks across their seam. “And more than a few I’ll be downright pissed about if you do them without me,” I say, right before I brush my mouth against hers, barely more than a graze, but it doesn’t matter. The second I feel her mouth against mine it takes everything I have to stop myself from deepening the kiss. Taking what I want. Laying her out on the dock and getting her out of my shirt so we can get to work on that list of hers, ri ght fucking now.
Rein it in, asshole. Don’t you think she’s had enough for one night?
Pulling back, I drop my gaze to her mouth while I try to remember how to breathe. “We can start wherever you want, Sunshine—top of the list or the bottom.” Stroking my thumb along her jawline, I silently campaign from the bottom because ask him to fuck me was the last thing she wrote. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is ask.”
I feel her skin start to warm under the sweep of my thumb, a moment before the blush blooms across her cheek. “I want—”
Whatever Kait’s about to say is interrupted by the spray of gravel, sent flying by something fast and heavy coming to a sudden stop. Hearing it, every ounce of color drains from her face and her eyes widen.
“It’s okay,” I tell her, kissing her again softly before dropping my hand away from her face. “It’s just Damien—I texted him to come get you.”
As if to prove me right, the hard slam of truck doors, one right after the other, is punctuated by someone calling her name.
“ Kaity !” Not my brother. A young woman, her tone edged in panic .
“That’s my sister.” Face still a little pale, Kait scrambles to her feet, her legs still wobbly enough to make me think she’s going to stumble over the edge of the dock.
“Slow down.” Scrambling after her, I catch her against me, my arm hooked around her waist to steady her. “I don’t want to have to fish you out—”
“You don’t understand,” she whispers frantically. “I love my sister but she has a huge mouth. If she sees you, everyone in Barrett will know you’re here and—”
“ There they are ,” Damien shouts, a second before he comes charging down the hill, a petite blonde following after him, a pair of pants clutched in her hand.
“Why would that matter?” I know why it would matter to me. What I don’t understand is how she’d know that if does. Letting my arm loosen from around her waist, I take a step back to look down at her. “Do you know who I am?” I ask her, suddenly sure that I’ve misread her altogether.
When I say it, her face crumples slightly like she doesn’t understand the question. “You’re Damien’s brother.” She shakes her head, her words punctuated by the twin slaps of feet against the dock, the hard wooden knock of them like muffled gunfire. “When you—”
From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of the petite blonde—who is apparently Kait’s big mouth little sister—zip past Damien on the dock to come to a screeching halt in front of us. “Someone better start talking,” she yells so loud it startles a flock of blackbirds across the lake and launches them into the air. “You can start with telling me who the hell this guy is.” She keeps yelling, lifting the pair of jeans into the space between us to shake them in Kait’s face like they’re exhibit A in a capital murder trial while Damien glares at me like he’s seconds away from tackling me into the lake. Dropping the pants, Kait’s sister turns to look at me, her bright blue eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And after that, you can explain to me why the fuck you’re not wearing pants.”