Текст книги "Three Broken Promises"
Автор книги: Monica Murphy
Соавторы: Monica Murphy
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
Chapter 2
Colin
“Quitting? What the fuck are you talking about?” I’m yelling. I notice her wince and I clamp my lips shut, feeling like a jackass. But her words send me reeling, and I’m trying my best to rein myself in.
Jen can’t quit. She’s worked here almost a year. She’s one of my best waitresses. This place, specifically the bar, runs more smoothly when she’s here.
But that’s not why I don’t want her to leave.
“I can’t stay here anymore.” Jen glances around the empty restaurant, her fingers curling around the back of her neck, playing with the edge of the mysterious bandage. “Consider this my generous four-week notice. That should give you plenty of time to replace me.”
Doesn’t she know she’s irreplaceable? “Did you find another job?” It’s the only explanation. And if she hated working here that much, I wish she would have told me. I could have done something to make it better for her here.
But what? What more can I do?
Slowly she shakes her head. “I’m leaving.”
What the hell? “Going back home, then?” I find it hard to believe, but maybe she’s finally ready to see her mom and dad after everything that’s happened, after she ran away. She’s never gone back and I know they miss her. Her mom has called me more than once asking about her. I know they’ve talked but it’s rare, and that’s on Jen’s part. Maybe she’s had a change of heart.
There’s really no other explanation for her leaving. At least in my mind.
“No.” She spits the word out as if it were poison and drops her hand from her neck, straightening her shoulders. “I refuse to go back home. I’m moving to Sacramento.”
“Sacramento? Are you kidding me? Why?” I’m at a loss. I can’t figure out her motive, why she wants to leave, and what the hell Sacramento has to offer that’s so much goddamn better than what I can give her.
“I need a change of pace, okay? I’m tired of the small-town thing. I run into the same people again and again. Most of them I don’t want to see anyway.” She starts to walk past me. “We so shouldn’t be having this conversation here.”
I grab her again, stopping her progress. Curling my fingers tight around her upper arm, I pull her in close, invading her space. Her scent fills my head, like an exotic bloom that permeates the air, fragrant and heavy. Intoxicating. My gaze drops to her mouth, and I’m momentarily transfixed as she sinks her teeth into her plump lower lip.
Fuck. This is pure torture. Having her close. Arguing with her where anyone could see us. Acting like lovers in the middle of a heated discussion . . .
We pretend we don’t really matter to each other, but it’s time for me to be honest with myself. She’s so immersed in my world, I can’t imagine her out of it.
I don’t want to imagine her out of it.
“Where else do you suggest we have this conversation, then?” I ask, keeping my voice low and as even as possible. While deep inside, I want to rage and yell and throw shit.
Jen can’t leave me. What she’s saying, I can’t even begin to comprehend.
“Your house?” She rolls her eyes and actually laughs. “Not that we ever really talk there, though, do we? We never really talk anywhere.”
Letting her go, I step away from her, needing the distance. She’s right. Our situation is . . . weird. I take care of her because of my own twisted sense of guilt, and she stays with me because where else is she going to go? I know she appreciates all I’ve done for her. We keep our linked past a secret from the other employees at the restaurant with the exception of Fable. Jen confessed our long connection months ago.
At first, I was mad that Jen told her about our shared history. Then I got over it. I like Fable. She’s troubled—was extremely troubled when I first hired her, but she’s come out of her shell, and she and Jen are now best friends. I’ve even become somewhat friends with her boyfriend. Hell, the four of us have gone out to dinner together once or twice, like we’re on a double date or something.
Stupid that I can keep what’s between Jen and me so casual, so . . . easy, but I can’t turn it into something real. Something true. I’m just too damn afraid to make a move for fear I’ll ruin it.
Considering I’ve ruined a few things in my personal life, it’s a legitimate fear.
“You really want to talk when we get home? We’ll talk,” I finally suggest.
Her eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“Absolutely. Whatever you want, all you have to do is ask.” I spread my arms wide, then let them drop to my sides. She’s watching me with those dark, fathomless eyes, taking me in, making me want to squirm. She’s tall in the heels, almost eye level with me, and I’m a solid six-one.
“Whatever I want, you’ll give me.” It’s a statement, not a question, and I wonder at it.
“It’s yours,” I agree. “When have I ever denied you anything?”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You deny me almost every day of your life.”
I scratch the back of my head, puzzled. She means something else, I know it, but I can’t figure out what. Plus, I’m tired as fuck and not in the mood for a bunch of games, not that Jen is a game player. But she’s being evasive. Mysterious. Trying to pull a fast one on me, I’m sure.
“Make your request. I’ll do my best to accommodate you.” I grimace the moment the words come out. I sound like a boss, which I am.
A tiny smile curves her lips. “All right, then. Let me go. Let me do this, Colin. I can’t be dependent on you forever.”
Realization washes over me, making me feel like a fool. “Is that the problem? That you feel bad because I help you out? You’re never a burden, Jen. You know this.”
“No, I don’t know, but that’s not the point.” Sighing, her smile turns sad. “I appreciate your help. More than anything, I appreciate how you pulled me out of a bad situation before it could’ve become . . . a lot worse. You saved me.”
“It was the least I could do.” A major understatement. If I couldn’t save her brother, my best friend, then I could at least save his baby sister.
“And I’m forever grateful to you for it. Really. But I gotta admit, I’m tired of being saved by you. Of being the problem you’re constantly trying to solve. I want to leave. I need my freedom to try something new and explore other options. Staying here in this stupid small town doing the same thing day in and day out won’t solve my problems.”
“You have problems?” Why hasn’t she told me about them?
“Yes! Tons of them. All sorts of problems, but you don’t notice because you’re too wrapped up with your own.”
Isn’t that the truth! “I don’t want to give you your freedom just so you’ll leave me,” I murmur, feeling like a selfish ass. The look on her face tells me she thinks I’m an ass for saying it too. “Ask me for anything else, Jen. Anything. I . . . I don’t want to let you go. Not yet.”
Irritation flits across her face, making her lips thin, her eyes narrow. “Ask you for anything else?”
“Anything. I’ll give it to you. No questions asked.”
“All right.” She takes a deep breath, as if she needs it for courage. “I want you.”
Jen
He’s staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind, which I probably have. What possessed me to just say that? He’s going to reject me. I feel it in my bones. Not that I blame him. We wouldn’t work. I know this. So does he. I’m keeping a huge secret from him that I can never let him know. That alone will prevent us from having any sort of a relationship.
But I couldn’t help myself. I had to say it. I think he secretly wants me, too.
“You don’t want me,” he finally says, dropping his head to stare down at the floor, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping him. “Trust me.”
Every single day that passes, he breaks my heart. The way he just said that, those six words infused with so much sadness, threatens to shatter my already broken heart into a bazillion pieces.
“You said I could ask for anything,” I remind him, my voice small. “No questions asked.” I throw his words back at him because I can.
He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, seeming at a loss for words, which I don’t think I’ve ever seen happen before. The man is a talker. A charmer. He has to be, as successful as he’s been at such a young age. Yeah, his extremely wealthy and negligent dad gave him money to start the first restaurant he owns, but everything else he’s accomplished has been all him.
He’s also gorgeous. And he knows it. The dark blond hair, the piercing, pale blue eyes, and his face . . . no words can describe it. It’s too damn beautiful.
“You’re blowing my mind tonight,” he finally says, still staring at the ceiling.
“It’s been an enlightening day for the both of us,” I return, irritation making me snippy.
Dropping his head, he studies me. “I want to pretend you didn’t say that.”
Anger fills me. Of course he wants to pretend. It’s the story of his life. The way he always operates. I’m so sick and tired of pretending. Avoiding. Doing one thing while saying another.
My life with Colin feels unreal. I hate it.
“Go ahead. Pretend like you usually do.” I want to run but I stand my ground, glaring at him.
He ignores my comment. “We should go.”
“I’m scheduled till midnight.” And I’m not ready to leave. We need to finish this conversation. Besides, what if we go home and he helps me pack my suitcase and sends me on my merry way? That’s the last thing I want to happen. I’m not ready yet. I should have gone about telling him my plan more . . . delicately. I’ve handled this all wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
“They’ve survived without you for the last fifteen minutes we’ve been talking. I think you clocking out early isn’t going to matter. Besides, I’m the one who made your schedule. You can leave when I say.” He flicks his head, looking every inch the arrogant, controlling boss. “Let’s go.”
And like the silly, obedient girl that I am, I follow him.
We drove home in silence, the air between us thick with tension. I spent the entire time texting with Fable, telling her I manned up and gave my notice to Colin. I thought she would be happy for me. At the very least, proud that I finally found some courage and did it.
Instead, I received a string of whiny texts in reply, begging me not to leave. I mean, what the hell? Even my new best friend is trying to hold me down. This town is too small and everyone knows each other. After my last close call, I don’t want to take that chance again. I’d rather go and forget this place ever existed.
I’ll miss my friends. I’ll miss Colin. But it’s best that I go.
I don’t even quite know how I ended up here. I grew up about two hours away, in a small, seemingly idyllic but really super boring town in the mountains. Where everyone knows each other and the air is crisp and clear, filled with the scent of pine. Where gossip prevails and the secrets that aren’t so secret anymore go generations deep. Colin grew up there too; his mom lived right next door.
His father has never been a part of his life. I’ve met Conrad Wilder a few times but always briefly, and I don’t know much about the man. Only that he’s very generous with his money—and he has a ton of it, a fortune he’d inherited from his father when he died—handing it over to Colin every chance he gets, in lieu of the two of them actually spending time together.
Not that Colin ever complained. He keeps most of his emotions to himself.
The moment we arrived at his house, I closed myself off in my room. Didn’t bother saying good night, let’s talk more, screw you, I hate you—nothing. Just ran away from him, heading down the hall like a coward. I turned the lock on my bedroom door, shed my clothes, and curled up under the covers. Squeezing my eyes shut tight in the hope that sleep would take me swiftly.
It didn’t. Hours later I still lie in bed, frustrated, hot even though the ceiling fan turns lazily above me. I’ve kicked off the covers, clad in only a pair of panties and an old tank top, feeling like I might burst out of my skin, I’m so restless.
And then I hear it. Him. Colin’s room is next to mine and the walls are remarkably thin. Thank God he’s never brought a woman here—at least he hasn’t when I’ve been around. Hearing him do . . . whatever he might do to another woman would send me straight over the edge.
I’m already teetering there, hanging on by a tenuous thread thanks to Colin.
It always starts out quietly. A whimper, or sometimes a growl, though it’s never fierce. Rolling over on my side, I face the wall we share, waiting breathlessly for the next sound.
His voice is guttural and deep, though I can’t quite make out what he’s saying. I usually can’t. When he starts talking, that’s my signal to climb out of bed and go check on him.
So I do.
Chilly air smacks my face when I open his unlocked bedroom door. He’s left the windows open and the night has cooled considerably, a sign that fall is on its way. Tiptoeing into his room, I stop at the foot of the bed, watching helplessly as he tosses and turns, overcome with whatever demons come to him in his dreams on an almost nightly basis.
It’s dark, but I can make out his form in the light of the moon shining through the open windows. He’s shirtless, of course. The sheets bunch around his hips and his broad shoulders and chest gleam in the moonlight. I’ve never seen him like this in the light of day—naked and mouthwateringly perfect—but I want to.
His voice rises, I can understand what he’s saying now, and the words break my heart.
“Gotta save him. Gotta find him.” He pants, as if he’s running, searching for the one he’s lost, and without thought I slip into bed with him, snuggling up behind him so I can wrap my arms around his waist.
I know who he’s looking for in his dreams. I used to dream about him too. Right after we lost my brother for good. This is our shared loss, the strong connection that has kept us together, that made him search me out when I ran.
Colin found me. Colin saved me. It’s the least I can do, to try and save him back.
Holding him close, I rest my chin on top of his shoulder, my mouth close to his ear. “It’s okay,” I whisper as I run my hands over his flat, firm stomach, feeling extra daring tonight. I’m tired of holding back, holding everything in. I want to feel him, know him in every intimate way possible. “Everything’s okay. You did what you could.”
His nightmares haunt him. They’re dark and desperate. Though he never talks about them, it doesn’t take a genius to realize just how awful they are. How they torment him almost every single night. I don’t know how he lives like this. He acts like everything is fine in the daylight. Happy and carefree, as if nothing ever bothers him. But in the dark, in his sleep, his other world reveals itself.
And it’s not pretty.
“Jennifer.” He whispers my name, turning his head so his mouth is in near perfect alignment with mine. He settles his hands over my wandering ones, intertwining our fingers, and I sigh at his touch.
It’s as though he’s not even aware of what he’s doing. He touches me as if he wants to own me. As if we’re really together. But we never take it any farther than this. No kisses, nothing sexual. Though the tension and heat that radiates off his big body isn’t only from his bad dreams.
It’s because of me. He wants me. His body always, always responds to my touch. I wish that for once, he could admit it.
“I’m sorry.” He sounds so distraught, so forlorn. I hate that. Tilting his head closer, his lips brush mine when he speaks. “Don’t leave me.”
And then he kisses me.
Chapter 3
Jen
His lips are warm and soft, the kiss simple. My emotions are anything but, colliding within me and dying to get out. Chaotic and out of control, as I realize this is the very first time our lips have actually touched. We’ve kissed each other’s cheeks and foreheads, but never lips.
I’ve wanted this for far too long, but I think . . . no, I know he’s half asleep. He probably doesn’t even realize what he’s doing . . . does he? He called me Jennifer and he never, ever calls me that. I’m simply Jen.
Good ol’ I-can-always-count-on-her Jen.
Colin releases his hold on one of my hands and reaches for me, cupping my face, his thumb caressing my cheek as he turns more fully toward me. His chest brushes against mine, my nipples harden almost painfully, and I slide my hands up his chest, over his pecs, winding them around his neck so I can bury my fingers into his silky, soft hair.
I love touching him. Hate how secretive it always is, under the cover of darkness, the shroud of nightmares, the bleakness of night. I have my own secrets that I hide. Ugly, terrible things I’m desperate to keep locked inside. If he ever found out, I know he’d never look at me the same again.
This time between us is different, though. Our mouths cling to each other, our lips slowly parting with every pass, but I refuse to be the first one to take this deeper.
Refuse? More like I’m too scared to take this deeper. What if he turns me away? I don’t think I could deal with that.
“God, what you do to me.” He murmurs the words against my lips, his breath hot as he exhales shakily. His other hand is at my hip, nestling me closer, and I can feel him. Every blessed, hot inch of his bare, firm skin, the boxer briefs he wears, the thrust of his erection beneath them.
A matching shuddery breath leaves me when I realize he’s hard. His hand slips up my cheek, into my hair, until his fingers are at the back of my head, tightening around the long strands until I have no choice but to bend my head back, my new tattoo aching, the adhesive from the bandage tugging the few hairs that are captured beneath it.
It hurts, but I revel in the pain. Because it means I’m alive and Colin is touching me, kissing me. I want more.
So much more than what I’m willing to ask for.
He shifts his position, towering over me, dominating me, and a delicious shiver runs over my skin and through my veins, settling between my legs.
“I could take you like this.” His hips thrust against mine, a slow, sensual roll that nearly makes my eyes cross. I try my best to withhold the whimper of pleasure that wants to escape, but it’s no use. “Would you like that?” he asks, his perfect full lips tilting up at the corners. He’s looking right at me, his lids lowered, his gaze smoldering and nearly setting me on fire.
I don’t answer. I freaking can’t find my voice, I’m so turned on, turned inside out. Trying to lift my head to connect our mouths again, he tightens his hold on my hair, sending a ripple of pain across my neck. My freshly tattooed skin hurts, the bandage isn’t helping, but I ignore it. I focus instead on Colin, how he’s keeping me in place. Keeping me under his control.
He likes control. I’ve known this for years. I had no idea it carried over sexually, though I shouldn’t be surprised.
“I won’t fuck you, though. I can’t have you,” he says, disappointment ringing in his deep voice. He runs his lips along my neck, covering my sensitive skin with tiny, hot kisses, and I moan, wishing I were naked.
Wishing he were inside me. Filling me, fucking me like he suggested. Pounding deep within me so hard I can’t help but come within minutes.
God, I really, desperately want that.
My moan seems to knock him out of his stupor and he rears his head back, releasing his hold on me as if I’ve burned him. Scrambling off the mattress so fast it all happens in a frenzied blur. He’s standing on the side of the bed, running his hands through his hair and clutching the back of his head as he looks at me in utter disbelief. “What the fuck just happened?”
Sitting up, I smooth my hair back from my face, wincing when my fingers brush over my bandage. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what just happened.”
He glances down at himself, spotting his erection no doubt, and makes one of those frustrated male sounds he’s so good at. “Tell me we didn’t . . .”
“Don’t worry.” I climb off the bed, trying my best to look dignified as I stand before him, knowing I’m failing miserably considering I’m wearing a see-through tank and skimpy panties. I should be embarrassed, but screw it. “We didn’t. Like you don’t know that.” We didn’t even get in any tongue action with our kiss and I’m downright desperate to know his taste. To know if we’re as compatible as I hope we are when it comes to kissing.
Disappointment settles over me, mixed with a fair dose of irritation. This conversation we’re about to have is gonna go south, quick.
“Why are you in my bed?” His gaze drops, drinking me in, and those cool blue eyes of his heat with unmistakable arousal.
“Why am I always in your bed? Why do you think I come to you at least four times a week in the middle of the night and slip beneath the sheets with you? If you’re going to pretend like you don’t know what’s happening here, I swear to God, Colin, I’m going to kick your ass.”
He has the nerve to laugh, the jackass. “Did you know you’re pretty hot when you’re mad?”
“This isn’t a joke.” Taking a deep breath, I tell myself to remain calm. He’s doing his usual thing. Pretending nothing serious just went down, acting like he has no idea what actually happened.
He’s a liar. I wonder if he’s been playing me this entire time.
“I know it’s not.” His words practically dare me to explain exactly what’s happening.
So I go for it.
“We never talk about it, you know.” I take a step toward him, forgetting my lack of clothing, too focused on my anger. “What happens at night between us. What’s been building and growing since I moved in with you.”
He backs up, his expression wary. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” I take another step closer, his body heat radiating toward me, tempting me. Despite my anger and frustration, I still want him and it’s infuriating. “Your bad dreams, me sneaking into your bed and holding you close. Trying to make you feel better. What do you dream about, Colin?”
“I don’t remember,” he says automatically, but he knows. Just like I know.
“You dream about my brother.” Another step, and this time I grab his hand and cling to it. “It’s been almost two years. You need to let Danny go.”
He jerks his hand out of mine. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“We have to. It’s like this huge wall that sits between us. And every time I try to scale it, you push me off.” I start toward him again, ready to push him, hit him, I don’t know what, but he grabs me first. Wraps those big, warm hands of his around my waist and sets me away from him as if he can’t stand having me too close.
“I won’t do this, Jen. Not now.” The expression on his face really says not ever.
And that pushes me past my breaking point. I’m done.
“That’s why I won’t stay here. This place, this entire situation, is unhealthy. Oh, and our so-called relationship? Completely unhealthy. I refuse to stand by and let you pretend nothing is happening when something so is. I’m not going to be the only player in this game.” Turning, I head straight for the door, praying he’ll chase after me, grab me, kiss me senseless.
At the very least, yell at me to stop, beg me to listen to his explanations. I want that glimpse into his soul, his heart. The wall he’s built around it is made of steel, absolutely impenetrable, but I want to be the only one who can bust it down.
Yet he does nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just lets me go, as usual, without saying a word.
So I walk out, never once looking back. It takes everything within me not to look back.
When I finally make it to my room, with the door firmly locked, the window thrown open to let in some of that deliciously cold night air, I collapse on my bed and cry. Heavy, painful sobs take over my body as I bury my face in the pillow so he won’t hear me. Leaving him is the right thing to do, the only thing to do. This merry-go-round Colin and I are on is pointless. My crying over him? It’s pointless too.
As the last sob escapes me, I’m thankful for the cool breeze that dries the tears on my cheeks. Thankful even more for the sleep that slowly but sweetly takes over me.
Colin
I let her walk out of my room and didn’t try to stop her. What the fuck is wrong with me? Twenty-four years old and I’m acting like a child. She means the world to me and I keep on letting her go. Keep on pretending what’s happening between us isn’t real. All for her sake, I tell myself. I don’t want to hurt her.
Bullshit. More like I don’t want to hurt myself. Taking risks with my career is never a problem. Taking risks with my personal life?
Forget it.
Collapsing on the edge of the bed, I lean forward and hang my head, resting my elbows on my knees. My earlier erection is long gone, replaced by a pile of regret that bubbles up, threatening to choke me. She’s right. I lied. I knew exactly what happened between us. How good she felt, how amazing she tasted. How responsive she’d been within seconds of me touching her.
Like a complete asshole, I pushed her away, pretended I didn’t know what was going on, and essentially shut her out for the last time. She walked out of my room without looking back once, hot as fuck in a pair of panties that rode up her ass and showed off her firm cheeks, a thin tank top that was see-through, allowing me to make out the color and size of her nipples right before she turned away from me.
They were deep rose and tiny.
“Fuck.” I run my hands through my hair again and again, messing it up and not really giving a shit. The dream hadn’t been so bad tonight. Danny was beckoning me to follow him through the woods like when we were kids. I’d chased after him, eventually losing him, as usual.
Then flew into a panic when I realized he was gone. When I realized he was never coming back. I’ve had variations of the same dream for years. We could be little kids, in high school, or even the age we were the last time we were together, but it always ends up the same.
I lose him. I can’t find him. And as I search everywhere, I slowly figure out he’s never coming back. Danny is dead.
Since Jen moved in with me, she’s been there for me without asking any questions, sneaking into my bed, offering me comfort, and I always take it. Revel in it. Then pretend it never happened.
Well, no more. I need to stop acting like a coward and talk to her. Before I lose her forever.
Standing, I stride out of my room and walk with determined steps to Jen’s, conscious of the fact that I’m in my underwear and nothing else. Not the best outfit for a serious conversation, but screw it. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll invite me into her bed and we can continue where we left off earlier.
Yeah, right.
The door is shut and locked, but I have one of those tiny keys resting on top of the door frame. I reach for it, feel the cool metal beneath my fingers and grab it, jamming the key into the lock and turning it until the lock springs open. Silently I slip in, not wanting to scare her or worse, disturb her if she’s sleeping.
I hope like hell she’s not sleeping.
But she is, and disappointment crashes over me. I draw closer to her bed and see that she’s on her side facing the window, the covers tucked around her shoulders, her eyes closed and lips pursed. Without thought I settle on the edge of the bed as gently as possible, seeking her warmth. Reaching out, I touch her hair, letting the dark brown strands sift through my fingers. She’s the total opposite of me. Dark hair to my blond, chocolate-brown eyes to my pale blue ones, sweet to my bastard-like ways.
I don’t deserve her. I push her away because I know it’s true. But what would it be like to give in? Just once? And show her how much I want her . . .
Jen rolls over onto her back, a soft sigh escaping her, and I let my hand drop, holding my breath as I wait for her to wake up.
She doesn’t.
Following my instincts, I stretch out beside her on top of the comforter, slipping my arm around her waist and pulling her in. I close my eyes and rest my cheek on top of her head, breathing in her scent, absorbing her sweetness. Just having her near calms my racing heart, soothes my agitated nerves. The dream made me edgy. Her confrontation rattled me further, until all I wanted to do was sweep it under the virtual rug and pretend it never happened.
But now as we lie together and I hold her close, a sense of peace settles over me. She snuggles closer, her head resting on my shoulder, her mouth close to my neck. Her breath flutters against my skin, sending a scattering of tingles all over me, and then her lips move, damp and warm. “You won’t be able to deny we’re in bed together this time,” she says in this sexy little whisper that goes straight to my dick.
Fuck. I grab hold of her tight, moving her body so she’s beneath me, I’m straddling her hips, and we’re right back at square one. Right where we started before this all fell apart.
This time, I’m not going to let that happen.
