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Take the Fall
  • Текст добавлен: 24 сентября 2016, 07:49

Текст книги "Take the Fall"


Автор книги: Marquita Valentine



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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 13 страниц)





Seth

I stride over toward Rowan’s brother, calling out his name. “Jase, l need help with my truck. Can you drive me down to Gardner’s to get some tools?”

Both men turn to look at me. I know what they’re thinking. Jase’s garage has every tool known to man. Or at least it did seven years ago. Who knows what’s happened in the meantime?

Flashing me a grateful look, Jase grabs his helmet from a nearby table. Mark opens his mouth to say something, but I stomp down on his foot and he howls in pain instead.

I grin.

Rowan didn’t say anything about putting the asshole in a little accidental pain.

“Damn, bro. I didn’t see you standing there.” I keep walking, making sure to keep between Mark and Jase. “Might want to get that looked at.”

He flips me off and I salute him with two fingers.

“I wasn’t planning on getting in a fight with him,” Jase says as we walk to his motorcycle.

“Best-laid plans and all that shit,” I remind him. “But I gotta be honest with you. Giselle’s not worth it. Any woman who can’t wait for you isn’t worth your time.”

Rowan waited, and look at what you did to her.

But I’m trying to make up for that.

“Yeah.” He pauses before strapping on his helmet. “You know, besides my sister and your grandmother, only one other person ever thought of me while I was serving.”

“Who’s that?” I ask, playing dumb.

He looks back at his house. “Piper.”

“Saw her at the party.”

Jase nods. “She’s all grown up now.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” I ask, just to test him. “Hook up with her and get it out of your system.”

His lips thin as he glares at me. Now, that is damn interesting. “Can’t.”

“Why?”

Jase grunts an answer as he throws his leg over his bike. “When you work your shit out with my sister, then give me advice, but until then, fuck off.”

I tip up my chin to him. “Later.”

Piper appears out of nowhere, breathing so hard she begins to wheeze. “Jase. Your.” She bends over at the waist. “Wallet.”

Jase is off his bike and has Piper in his arms before I can move. “Breathe, beautiful. Breathe.”

“I’m fine.” She takes a deep breath, but the air rattles around in her chest. “Sorry. I’ve had a cold.”

Jase smiles at her, a tender look appearing in his eyes that up until now has been reserved for his sister. “Need me to take you home?”

She shakes her head and holds out a wallet, a shy smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He takes his wallet and shoves it in his back pocket. Then captures her small hands between his and starts to rub them. “You’re freezing, kitten.”

“No, I’m fine,” she says, but I notice she doesn’t pull her hands away.

“Let me take you home. Get you nice and warm.” He leans in to her and whispers something in her ear that makes her turn red.

“I don’t know,” she practically stammers.

Yeah, and this is turning awkward. “Want me to walk her back for you?”

“Seth,” Piper squeaks. “I forgot you were standing there.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Jase says wryly. It’s obvious that he’s not happy I interrupted him. But the dude’s not thinking straight. Can’t blame him, though. I can barely think straight around Rowan.

“Gee, thanks.”

“Jase,” Giselle shouts. “What the hell are you doing with the uptight puta? I thought you wanted some pussy.”

Piper’s eyes widen, like she’s never heard anyone talk like that before. Then again, I don’t remember her ever coming to one of our parties, and the ones in the Oaks can’t be nearly as uncivilized as ours.

“Shut the fuck up. Piper’s done nothing to you.” Jase glares at his girlfriend and then turns his attention back to Piper. “Sorry, honey. But you’re safer with Seth. Don’t worry about Giselle; I’ll make sure she leaves you alone.”

Piper nods slowly. “I wasn’t worried about Giselle. I was worried about you leaving your wallet behind. Someone could steal it.” She stares pointedly at Giselle for a split second.

Jase’s jaw works. “I appreciate that. Now, go with Seth and let me deal with Giselle.” He pats Piper on the ass and she freezes. So does he, as if he’s suddenly aware of what he did. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

Piper nods. “It’s okay,” she says in a whisper-thin voice.

Why Rowan ever thought the two of them needed to get together is beyond me. It’s obvious Piper’s afraid of her own shadow, and Jase would run all over her without knowing it, breaking her heart in the process.

“Fuck,” he mutters, then gives me a look. “Take her back to the party.”

I grab Piper and we walk back to the party. As we get closer to Giselle, I haul Piper to the other side.

“Bitch,” Giselle hisses.

“Your weave’s slipping,” Piper says without missing a beat.

Giselle flips her off. “Fuck off, little girl.”

Somehow I manage to get Piper to Rowan before a catfight breaks out. “Take her and get her ass out of here before Giselle does something.”

Rowan nods. She lays a hand on my arm. “Thank you.”

“Go. I’ll keep an eye on everything here.” I head over to the radio, turn off the music, and raise my voice: “Party’s over. Go home.”







Chapter 11






Rowan

Piper emerges from the bathroom, her eyes bright and her face pale. She didn’t talk much on the way to her place. I think she’s embarrassed.

Her dark hair falls out of the makeshift bun on the top of her head, and she scrapes it back into place, twisting it tightly. It falls again, and her mouth thins.

Taking pity on her, I sidle up to her and begin to redo the bun.

“I’m not helpless,” she says.

“I know.” I hold out my hand for a hair tie.

She drops it in my palm and I twist it around her thick hair. “The party didn’t need to end because of me.”

“It didn’t,” I assure her and she gives me a yeah, right look. “Seriously, Piper, it ended because Jase almost got in a fight with Mark Williams.”

“Mark is usually nice,” she says.

“He’s been fucking Giselle.”

“So has your brother,” Piper replies.

“True, but you can’t compare the two.”

She crosses her arms. “At least Mark recognizes Giselle for what she is.”

I blink at the uncharacteristic bite to my best friend’s tone. “What would that be?” I ask.

“A disloyal, faithless, potty-mouthed chick with a really bad weave,” she says so primly that I have to swallow the laughter threatening to bubble out of my mouth.

“Potty-mouthed chick?” This time I let the laughter bubble out.

She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

I hug her tight. “I do, but it’s still funny.”

“Why do guys like Jase and Mark like women like Giselle?” she asks, and all the laughter leaves me.

Letting go of her, we sink down and lean against the huge pillows she has piled on the floor. Every time I stay at her house, I feel like I’m entering a museum dedicated to the rich and famous. And it’s cold. Beyond Piper’s room, her house holds no warmth.

“You want an honest answer, honey?”

She gives me a mock glare. “No, I want you to lie.”

“Women like Giselle know what they want and go after it. Men like confidence in women.”

“And she puts out,” Piper says glumly.

“That helps.”

Piper grabs a small pillow and plays with the tassels. “Do you think Jase would like me if I became more like Giselle?”

Panic races through me. I do not want to hurt my best friend’s feelings, but Seth is right. If Jase stopped seeing Giselle for Piper, then there’s no telling what that hosebeast would do.

“We can work on your confidence, but the other…it’s not you.”

Piper frowns. “I can be just as—”

“No. You are not changing for a man. Change the way you are because you need to be different, not turn into some man-eater because you think Jase would want you.”

“Tonight he asked me if I would spend the night with him if he got rid of Giselle.”

My jaw drops and she blushes. “That asshole.” Yeah, he’s my brother and I love him, but my God, do men have to be ruled by their dicks all the time? “I hope you told his punk tail off.”

She averts her gaze, staring at a spot over my shoulder. “I said I didn’t know.”

Nonplussed, I stare at her for a moment. “That’s bold for you, but you’re worth more than a momentary lack of clarity.”

A flash of hurt covers Piper’s face. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. Momma—Mother—has enlisted the help of a matchmaker to find someone suitable for me.”

“Like a personal dating site consultant?” The lifestyles of the ultrarich never cease to amaze me.

“Yes. I had to give her access to all my social media accounts so that a profile could be created based on my user preferences.” She sounds so rehearsed that I feel sorry for her. “Then they’ll find the perfect man for me—socially and financially.”

“What a promise,” I mutter.

“I’m supposed to meet with them next week to go over my potential matches.”

“Sounds awesome.”

“If awesome means horrible.”

“You can say no, Piper,” I gently remind her.

She blows out a breath. “Rowan, if it was so easy to say no, then I wouldn’t be living at home. I’d be like every other twenty-three-year-old who has an apartment and privacy.”

This is true. Between her mother’s rules and her father’s status as chief of police, Piper has little to no privacy. Nannies raised her, and she was allowed only certain types of friends.

Until me.

I’m still not sure how that happened. “How did you get your mom to let you be friends with me?” I ask.

She bites her lip. “It’s not very nice.”

“You threatened her? Omigod. Spill.”

Piper looks at the floor. “I told her that being friends with you would be good community service,” she mumbles. “I was fourteen. I didn’t know what else to say.”

“Why, Piper Whitley Ross, how very crafty of you.”

Her gaze jerks up to mine. “You don’t think I’m a snobby bitch?” In true Piper fashion, she whispers the word bitch, like her mother will come storming into the room if she heard her.

“Girl, you are a total badass bitch in the making.”

Piper’s posture changes. She throws her shoulders back and gives me a confident smile. “I really could be, couldn’t I?”

I nod. “One badass step at a time.”

“Good. I’ll move in with you tomorrow.” She jumps to her feet and runs to her closet, dragging out three huge suitcases. “I already packed.”

My jaw drops to the floor again. “What?”







Seth

I’m half out of my mind with worry and jealousy as I channel surf. It’s not easy to be involved with someone who doesn’t let you know about the little things, like when she’s not coming home for the night. Rowan can be with anyone—any guy—right now.

My phone buzzes with a text alert and I scoop it up from the coffee table. “About fucking time,” I mutter.

Rowan: Houston, we have a problem.

Me: ?

Rowan: Piper is moving in with me tomorrow.

Checking the time on my phone, I grimace. Two a.m.

Me: It is tomorrow.

Rowan: Thanks, Captain Obvious, but seriously, she’s moving in. What do I do?

Me: Help her unpack?

Rowan: But you’re thinking of selling the house.

Yeah, I am thinking of selling it. I don’t need it, but Rowan might. Even if everything works out, she needs a place to live while I finish up my contract.

If everything works out. Rubbing my hand over my face, I text, Don’t worry about it.

My phone rings. I answer it immediately.

“ ‘Don’t worry about it’?” she screeches into my ear, except she’s whispering.

“Yeah,” I say just as softly. “Why the hell are we whispering?”

“Because I don’t want Piper’s mother to hear me.”

I should have known she was staying at Piper’s. “They don’t allow talking at normal levels over there?”

“They don’t allow their only daughter to move out.”

“You sound panicked.”

She makes the most adorable sound, sort of like a growl. “I am panicked. I don’t want to get into the middle of a power struggle with Piper and her parents, but she’s also my best friend. She stayed my friend when no one else would, Seth. People were cruel when you and Jase went to prison. Really, really cruel. She became an outcast for me.”

Pain slices through me as I imagine what Rowan must have endured as a sixteen-year-old girl from the wrong side of the tracks at our snobby-ass school. All because of things out of her control.

“Bring her home, baby.”

She’s silent for so long that I check to make sure my call wasn’t dropped.

“Where will she sleep? I don’t feel right letting anyone in Miss Myrtle’s old room,” she says with a little hitch to her voice.

“Your room or mine. Either way, we’ll share.”

“Don’t you have all the answers?” she replies, but the little dig is halfhearted.

“You’re welcome.”

“Piper and I will share until it’s time for you to go back to Jacksonville, then she’ll get your old room,” she says.

“And when I come back?”

“That’s not something I’m worried about happening. I don’t know why I called you in the first place,” she says and hangs up on me before I can respond.

I dial her number and get sent straight to voice mail. I try again and again, until I realize she’s turned off her phone. “Fuck me.” Falling against the cushions, I toss my phone to the side.

After everything I’ve done, she still doesn’t trust me to come back. I’ve put up with her bossy ass, taken her insults, left town and come back to show her I’m a man of my word, broken up a fight, and helped get her best friend away from Jase so she didn’t get her ass kicked by his vicious girlfriend. I’ve apologized until I’m blue in the face, fucked her, made love to her, and simply held her in my arms.

What more do I have to do?

Closing my eyes, I try to force my anger to leave my body. It’s not her fault. I screwed her over. I pushed and pushed until she had no desire to come back to me.

But it occurs to me in that moment that, once again, I was the first person Rowan called for help. She could have called anyone—her brother, Boyd….I frown.

Who else would Rowan call?

All she does is go to work and hang out with Piper, unless she’s out to celebrate with friends from work.

Is that all there is to her life? Yeah, it’s fulfilling, but what else does Rowan like to do? I know what she used to like, but—as she keeps telling me—she’s not the girl I used to know.

But maybe, just maybe, the girl she used to be is hiding behind that tough-as-nails façade I helped create.







Chapter 12






Rowan

Sunday morning, Piper moves six suitcases and two bags to my house. I struggle getting the last one through the door and into Seth’s old room.

“What’s in this—rocks?” I ask, hefting it on the bed.

“Shoes.”

“Can’t blame you.” Piper has an amazing shoe collection. She’s like the rock star of shoe collections. Only, she’s not allowed to wear three-fourths of them in public because, as her mother says, women of good breeding don’t wear hooker heels. If I were Piper, I’d be more offended by the comparison to animals than the hooker description. “I wish my feet were as small as yours.”

Piper’s eyes twinkle. “I might have added a few size elevens to my collection last week.”

I put my hands on my hips. “It’s incredibly rude to tease your new roommate like that.”

She unzips the bag and pulls out a pair of three-inch stilettos covered in crystals that make me sigh and drool.

“Here you go, roomie.”

“What?”

“They’re yours.” With a little grin, she shakes them at me. “You know you want them.”

Taking them from her, I hold them reverently and gaze at them adoringly. “If Cinderella had worn these at the ball, the prince would have taken her up to his bedroom instead of dancing.”

“Maybe they’ll help you find your Prince Charming.”

I roll my eyes. “No such man exists.”

“Give them back,” Piper orders, holding her hands out. “Only those who believe in the possibility of a happily ever after get to keep those.”

“I believe. I believe, Fairy Godmother Piper!”

She dissolves into a fit of giggles. “I like the sound of that. I’ve never been—”

“Hold that thought, lady. Only those who have complete confidence in themselves get to live here.”

Piper mimes zipping her lips.

“Rowan?” Seth calls from the doorway.

My heart bounces against my chest. As usual, Seth and I ignored each other at work, communicating only via email and Boyd. “Can I help you?”

Piper makes a face at me, then smiles at Seth. “Thanks for letting me move in.”

“You’re always welcome at Rowan’s house.”

My eyes narrow as I whirl around. “So it’s my house now?”

He gives me a sexy, crooked smile. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. In private.”

I tip up my chin. “Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of Piper.” Yeah, I’m a huge coward to use my best friend as a buffer, but I don’t want to be alone with him. Well, okay, so I do want to be alone with him, and that’s the problem.

His dark gaze roams my face. “I talked to Shaw about the house yesterday.”

“And?”

“I’m deeding it to you.” Then he walks away, leaving me to stand there with my mouth open wide.

“I think I just spotted the elusive Prince Charming,” Piper says from behind.

“Until he backs up his words, I’m not holding my breath,” I say loudly, but on the inside I’m completely breathless. My heart’s quaking, while I’m hoping he’s not lying.

“So very chaaaaarming,” Piper sings out.

I turn to face her, holding up a heel. “Don’t make me use this as a weapon.”

Piper snorts. “Go on. I dare you to throw it at me and risk breaking that gorgeous, sexy shoe on my hard head.” She lightly raps on the side for emphasis. “Like. A. Brick.”

I clutch my heels tighter to my chest and decide to not even think about the house right now. “You’re on probation.” With two fingers I point at my eyes, then hers. “So watch it.”

Practically skipping to my room, I imagine all the places I can wear my new shoes. Well, not around here obviously. I try them on and nearly moan at the sight.

Humming, I dance around the room with an imaginary partner. The shoes are so comfortable that I barely know they are on my feet.

“Nice shoes,” Seth says, leaning against the door. “Plan on wearing those for me tonight.”

I freeze, then slowly take off my heels and put them in the closet. “These are for my fantasies, not yours.”

“Where would you wear them in yours?” he asks.

I glance at him over my shoulder. He seems sincere enough, and he actually looks interested in hearing my answer. Then again…I swallow as a sweet memory takes hold.

We’re lying on a blanket down by the river. Sunlight filters through the leaves. The breeze is warm, though I’m a bit chilly. Seth and I have just made love and we’re holding hands. I’m only sixteen, but I’m sure he’s the one for me.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?” he asks. “Pick any place.”

“The beach? I’ve never been there.”

He rolls to one side, resting his head on his hand. “I’ll take you to the beach this summer, Rowan. But what I want to know is your ultimate fantasy kind of place. A place I can save up my money and take you to one day.”

My heart melts at his words. “I need to think about it.” I’ve never thought about going anywhere, honestly. My world is on our street, four houses down.

“Wherever you are is where I want to be,” he says solemnly. “That’s my fantasy, you know. To be with you forever.”

“Rowan,” Seth says, looking at me with concern. “Are you all right?” He moves closer, but I hold up a hand.

“I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me.” I race past him. I am not fine. Not one bit. Throwing open the back door, I head outside, tears blurring my vision, but I don’t let them fall. I refuse to let them fall.

Strong hands grab my shoulders, spin me around, and shove me into a hot wall of muscle. “Talk to me, Ro. Tell me what has you so upset.”

“Let me go.” Please don’t let me go.

“Can’t do it,” Seth says.

“I don’t understand you.”

“You’ll have the deed to the house by the end of next week.”

I pull back. “It’s not about the house. It’s about everything. I don’t get it. Why is it so important for you to do this? Why now?”

“Because I’ve seen death and war and violence. I’ve held dying men, and all I could think of was you. You’re what got me through.” He shakes his head. “Not just you, but apologizing to you. I made a vow that if I came back from my last deployment, then I would make it up to you.”

“Did you ever think I might not want your apology?”

“No. Apologizing to you—setting things right—is what I’m supposed to do,” he says firmly. “In the Marines, they taught me to be responsible for my fuckups, and I committed no greater fuckup than when I pushed you away.”

“Okay, fine. You’ve set stuff right, or you will once you figure out what you’re doing with the shop. But the rest—me and you—how is that part of your grand plan?”

He leads me to the old gazebo in the backyard and we sit on the swing. It’s sturdy, the chains only groaning a little bit. When we were younger, his grandfather always kept it painted, and then after he passed, Miss Myrtle paid local boys to keep it white. Rosebushes, long untamed, surround the structure.

Miss Myrtle told me on more than one occasion that Mr. Tom had built the gazebo just for her—that the flowers represented their growing love. Then she’d giggle as she shared that every single rose he’d planted the first year had withered and died. But they eventually figured out the best roses for the soil and tended to them. Finally they grew and grew.

When they bloom in the summer, the scent is heady, almost seductive. I still sit out here sometimes at night and relive all the kisses I’ve shared with Seth in this swing. But I’ve never told anybody. It’s my most carefully guarded secret.

That’s my fantasy, and he’s led me right to it. Only, it’s not summer and I’m not sixteen.

“Do you ever think of all the times we sat out here?” he asks suddenly, as if reading my thoughts.

I squirm in my seat slightly, not liking where this can lead us. “Sometimes,” I answer truthfully, surprising myself. “Especially in the summer.”

“The roses,” he says with a smile. “I loved giving them to you.”

He always gave me roses, different colors and lengths. Sometimes in a bouquet while other times just a single rose.

“Grandma would tell me which ones to get. That each one had a meaning.”

“Roses have a meaning?”

He turns to me. “Apparently, they all do. She learned it from a woman named Poppy Holland.”

“Really, then, tell me—what do purple roses mean?” I challenge.

“ ‘Enchantment’—that’s why I gave you purple roses first.”

I can’t hear that. I don’t want to hear that, but his explanation doesn’t stop me from asking more questions. “And yellow?”

“ ‘I like you.’ ”

I list more colors, and he answers each one. If he’s full of it, I won’t know unless I search for it on the Internet.

“And red?” I ask softly. My favorite is red roses. Seth brought those to me all the time, even before I had a favorite.

“It means ‘I love you,’ ” he says quietly, his eyes burning into mine.

I love you. I love you. How often had Seth given me those words—and not only given them to me, but meant them—when we were together? I knew he meant them, just as much as I knew I had meant them when I’d said them back.

That’s why his abandonment hurt so badly. “You thought I betrayed you, didn’t you?” I ask. “When you went to jail and then into the Marines, you blamed me. And Jase.”

He nods slowly. “I blamed you most of all.”

A lump grows in my throat, so big and powerful I can barely breathe around it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to take the fall for us, for me—”

He places a finger under my chin. “You didn’t make the choice. I did. Out of everyone there, Rowan, you were a child compared to the rest of us. I knew what I was doing.”

“You never should have gone to jail. You were always better than any of us,” I say softly.

“Better than you?” Seth dips his head, his lips dangerously close to mine. “No such thing. I could never be better than you. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful and wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.”

My eyes stay open when he kisses me. How am I supposed to stay strong when he says things that make me weak?


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