Saving Kylie: A Small Town Second Chance Romance

by Taryn Quinn

  Never again.

  “He didn’t hit me. He never hit me. Justin.” Kylie yanked at his arm, pulling him back. “It’s my fault he’s here. I called him to tell him I was okay—”

  Shock rolled through Justin’s system. “You called him?” His attention switched to her for a moment, just long enough that Rob’s mammoth fist rammed directly into his eye.

  And everything went black.

  Five

  Kylie paced back and forth between Justin’s living room and his kitchen, lacing and unlacing her fingers. The police had come and gone, and both sides had agreed not to press charges. Rob had asked her if she’d lost her mind to get involved with such a wack job, and at the moment she wasn’t sure she could argue. The look on Justin’s face when he’d leaped at Rob—

  She shuddered. She’d never seen that much fury before. The kind of fury that could kill.

  At first, discovering all the new sides and aspects of Justin had been fun and exciting. Alluring, even. Clearly she hadn’t scratched the surface of him in college. But this was a hell of a lot.

  Then again, she’d been the one to jump into bed right away with Justin. He’d only been protecting her honor, whether or not she needed it.

  She swallowed and pressed her palm against the pain drilling into her temple. She’d gone from the pinnacle of pleasure to the depths of terror with barely a minute to breathe. No wonder a mariachi band had taken up residence in her skull.

  Her body still hurt from yesterday, though nowhere near as much as it had last night. She kept flexible from Pilates and yoga, so she’d bounced back pretty quickly. Not to mention she’d gotten big-time lucky that her fall hadn’t been worse.

  But now it seemed like her luck had dried up.

  On her trip back into the living room, she stared at the man sulking silently on the couch. He was bare-chested, and his dark hair stuck out in twenty different directions. Then there were the twin bruises that shadowed the entire left side of his face.

  She winced. His cheek must be throbbing.

  “Do you want more ice?” she asked, not coming any closer than the doorway. She wasn’t afraid of him for herself, not physically. Even in the midst of freaking hand-to-hand combat, he’d eased her out of the way with the care of a grizzly cradling a baby bird in his paw.

  “No.” The ice pack sat in his lap, melting all over his jeans. The splotch of wet ran all the way down one thigh, but he didn’t seem to care. “I’m fine.”

  She couldn’t take this tense silence between them anymore. “You sure look fine.” She strode forward until their knees bumped and bent down to grip his chin, turning his face toward the fireplace. She’d rekindled the fire, and that was the only thing that chased the gloom out of the gray day.

  He hadn’t wanted lights. Or medical attention. Or for her to even stay. That pissed her off the most.

  “You look like hell,” she said finally, hoping her voice wasn’t trembling. She couldn’t be sure of anything at the moment. “You hit the ground pretty hard.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Justin—”

  “Did I badger you when you went off half-cocked on a snowmobile you had no clue how to ride and got into an accident? Did I lecture you? No. I’d appreciate the same courtesy.”

  She slapped her hands on her hips. “I was fully cocked, thank you very much.” To her surprise, his lips twitched, though he didn’t meet her gaze. “And I had a clue how to ride. Sort of. I’ve gone out a few times, just not alone. I wasn’t thinking straight. But you were.”

  “Was I?” His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Wiping her suddenly damp palms on her freshly laundered jeans from last night, she sat next to him. She made a show of tugging the pretty plaid throw off the back of the couch. Once she’d wrapped herself in fleece and the comforting scent of his soap and woodsy shampoo, she lifted her eyebrows. “So tell me.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I told you about me and Rob.”

  His mouth tightened. “He’s not going to leave you alone. Especially when you call him and give him hope.”

  Ah, so there was the source of some of his anger. She wasn’t surprised that he didn’t like her phoning her ex. What did surprise her was how vehement her objection to his displeasure was. “I called to let him know I was all right. Despite what happened, we were together for years, and he was worried. I owed him that much.”

  “You owed him nothing,” Justin said in an undertone. “Absolutely nothing. The guy strong-armed you into stuff you didn’t want to do, and when that didn’t work, he cheated on you.”

  “Do you think I’ve forgotten any of that?” she snapped. “I can take care of myself, Justin. Really. The macho-man routine isn’t necessary.”

  “You think I’m being macho?” He laughed and yanked on the blanket, pulling the fleece over him too. “I know women can take care of themselves. If they want to.”

  She shifted to give him more of the throw and casually tossed her leg over both of his. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders to cuddle her close, which helped mitigate the flare of heat in her sore thigh. Crouching over him while he pounded into her hadn’t helped on that score either.

  Not that she was complaining. She’d happily do it again in a heartbeat.

  Just maybe not right now.

  “I’m not a doormat.” She tucked her chilly fingers under the waistband of his jeans to absorb his warmth. “Maybe I put up with things I shouldn’t have. Maybe I shouldn’t have stuck around so long. But he never hit me, I swear. Never even threatened to hit me. If he had, I’d’ve been gone.”

  Justin was quiet for a long moment while he stared into the fireplace across the room. “So he made you do things you weren’t comfortable with, and that was okay? That’s not a form of abuse?”

  “It wasn’t what we were doing that bothered me.” She swallowed hard and wished she had a mug of something hot to wrap her hands around. Her gaze landed on the forgotten cups of cocoa they’d never finished, and her stomach twisted. How had such a perfect day gone so wrong? “The idea of sexual experimentation never bothered me. Changing things up is fine. I, uh, have a good imagination.”

  “Nice to know.”

  “I think it was him I didn’t want, not what was happening. I don’t know for sure. Doggy-style was about as inventive as I got with other lovers.” She shrugged. “After a while it stopped being fun and I felt like I was being judged. I wasn’t kinky enough to suit him, I guess.”

  He rubbed the back of her knuckles. “You’re plenty kinky enough to suit me.”

  She choked out a laugh, surprised her chest felt too tight. “Oh, I don’t know. I saw that drawer of yours…”

  “What’s in that drawer never has to be part of us if you don’t want it to be.” His dark blue gaze locked on hers. Such concern and affection radiated there, she couldn’t have doubted him if she tried. “But you’re more than enough for me all on your own.”

  The tightness intensified. “You don’t really know who I am yet, and vice versa. We haven’t spent much time together recently without pint glasses or a TV screen between us. Time where we can just relax and be.”

  “Easy enough to rectify that.” He shifted her legs on his lap and fumbled around between the cushions until he unearthed the remote. Tapping buttons, he grinned at her and aimed, landing on some sort of basketball highlight show on digital cable. “TV’s on, but there’s nothing between us but clothes.”

  “Way too many.” She inched onto his lap carefully, since they were both bruised and battered. Now that the rush of adrenaline had faded, all her aches were coming back tenfold. “And actually, something else is between us too.”

  She dipped her head and captured his lower lip between her teeth while she toyed with his growing erection. She loved that she affected him that much.

  “I thought we needed to get to know each other better. Verbally,” he added when she
latched her mouth on to his scruffy jaw. His thumbs teased the hollows of her stomach before slipping under the waistband of her jeans. “God, your skin’s so soft.”

  “Aloe vera lotion twice a day.”

  “You rub that all over?”

  “Mmm-hmm. Even here.” She dragged his hand lower and pressed it against her yearning center. “Right along the crease of my thigh…”

  “No wonder you smell so damn good.” His knuckles brushed against the seam of her jeans.

  “Oh, God. Shit, no way! Cornell lost?” Her moan ended with her craning her neck to see the score, prompting him to laugh.

  “Here, turn around.” He resettled her on his lap facing the TV and nuzzled the crook between her neck and shoulder as she snuggled closer. “Maybe I can concentrate more on talking if you don’t have your mouth on me.”

  “You think?” She shifted until she could wiggle her ass against his cock. “Lots of other ways to distract you.”

  “Undoubtedly. But you wanted to talk.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed and focused hard on the screen. Why was she scared all of a sudden? Denying the sides of Justin’s nature she didn’t want to know about wouldn’t make them go away. “Only for a little while. Then we’ll have fun. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, after all. I hope you have something we can scrounge up to make a decent meal.”

  Something special. Thanksgiving was a family holiday, and if she and Justin were standing in as each other’s, she wanted tonight and tomorrow to be about more than fighting and mistrust and bruises.

  Her body warmed as she glanced at the simmering fire and remembered. Who was she kidding? She’d recall this day as much more than that. It was also about the hottest lovemaking she’d ever experienced. The closest connection she’d ever felt to another, even in the midst of something so wild and primal her brain had gone on hiatus.

  “I usually do frozen pizza, but since you’re here, we’ll come up with something a little more appetizing.” He pressed his tongue against the pulse point just below her ear, provoking a fierce throbbing between her thighs.

  God, she was primed for him. One touch, one look, and she was ready to throw away her misgivings.

  “I’ll make mojitos and throw together some appetizers.” The idea of staring at Justin in firelight as they fed each other finger foods pleased her immeasurably. “Depending on what you have in the fridge and how long the store’s open. You’ll let me borrow your truck?”

  “Not sure I trust you around my stick after last night.”

  She reached back to grasp his dick playfully. “Keep that talk up and you and your stick will be awfully lonely tonight.”

  He laughed and nibbled her neck. Every pull of his mouth made her nipples tingle. “Honey, it’s snowing like a bitch out there. Think you and I are inside for the duration.”

  She twisted in his hold to peer out the narrow windows behind the couch. All she saw was white. And more white. “Guess you’re right. I hate driving in snow like this. Or even riding in it. I skidded once on the way to work and nearly wrapped my Miata around a damn tree.”

  “We’ll figure out something to eat from what I’ve got.” He banded his arm under her breasts. The subtle pressure of his forearm tightened her nipples, and she heard the smile in his rumbled sigh of contentment. “Pretty sure we can occupy ourselves here.”

  “Yeah.” She wet her lips and settled herself sideways on his lap. She chanced another look at his beautiful face, barely resisting the urge to kiss his battered eye. He didn’t want her fluttering. He’d made that abundantly clear earlier. “So what happened out there? Are you going to tell me?”

  When he didn’t speak, she forced her heartbeat to slow. Last thing she wanted was for him to think she was going to wig and get all female on him. “I won’t ask a lot of questions, promise. Besides, I came clean about what happened with me.”

  “Tit for tat?”

  “Something like that.” She glanced at the TV, absorbing the long lists of scores rolling across the screen without comprehension.

  His legs tensed beneath her, and he let out a long breath. “I told you a bit about my stepdad. How he was a traveling salesman and spent a lot of time on the road.”

  “Yeah, like my dad with his trucking. Sort of.”

  “No, not like your dad. He didn’t just act indifferent to his family and send gifts home to make up for long absences. When Frank came back from the road, my mother got the benefit of his fists, not the trinkets he picked up in truck stops.”

  She didn’t respond. No words came, and from the faraway look in his eyes, she doubted he’d hear them anyway. Especially since he clearly hadn’t finished his story.

  “I was a toddler when he moved in with us. My own dad had never been part of my life, and my mom was so grateful Frank wanted to adopt me. For the first few years, if his abuse went beyond threats and insults, I didn’t see it. Or I didn’t want to see it.”

  Her stomach cramped with the knowledge of what he would say next. “You were just a little boy.”

  “Yeah, but I knew. I knew one day he wouldn’t stop with calling her a bitch or a tramp. Then when it happened, when I found her in the fetal position on the kitchen floor, she wouldn’t let me get help. I wasn’t allowed to call the damn police and get the fucker out of our house.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seven.” As if he was reining himself in, he lifted his hand and gently cupped her cheek. The tenderness in that single touch made her eyes fill with tears.

  “How badly was she hurt?” She fought to keep the emotion from her voice.

  “Bruises mostly, a fractured rib. Cut lip. She just cleaned up the blood, had me help her wrap bandages around her torso.” His tone turned brittle. “Then she put on her best dress and waited on the living room couch, because it was their anniversary, and he’d promised to take her to dinner at Sloane’s Steakhouse.”

  She covered the hand he’d dropped to the couch with her own. “You understand she was a battered woman. The decisions she made in that state don’t reflect on her as a person. She’d been victimized.”

  “I heard all the labels.” His fingers lightly squeezed hers. “The psychologist she took me to when I started acting out in school even gave me a workbook. I colored all these pictures of perfect little saltbox houses with picket fences and happy parents and kids. I was supposed to pretend I really believed a broken home could be ‘healed.’” His disgust was palpable. “It’s BS, Kylie. He never changed. Oh, sure, he went to counseling, and he never hit her again. That I saw, anyway. His rage went into hiding. But it was still there. She wasn’t the only one who lived in fear of it coming back.”

  A long moment passed before she could speak. “Are they still together?”

  Is that why you spend Thanksgivings alone?

  His lips twisted into a semblance of a smile. “Yes. They have a beautiful ranch on the outskirts of town. They breed German shepherds, and she quilts. He has a good job, and they’re the picture of a stable, loving home.”

  “But you don’t buy it.”

  “No. She cries sometimes when I call, and she’s too quiet other times.” He paused and shifted his legs, his gaze drifting to the play-by-play on the TV, though she knew he wasn’t seeing it. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s me. If along the way, he stopped being the problem, and now I’m the one who makes her sad. I’m a living, breathing reminder of when her husband beat her.”

  “You never let her forget.”

  “How could I? I never forgot. Not for a minute. I still see her bruises.” He stopped as she lowered her gaze to her lap. “Yeah, I froze last night, seeing yours. Everything reminds me. Thinking of some guy doing anything to you—”

  “The situation with us was different. It was mostly consensual, and he was never violent. Not once.”

  “I didn’t plan to react the way I did outside. But when his fist came up to bang on the door, I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t control my rage either.” He smiled again, but tha
t smile was as icy as the snow falling outside. “Guess that adage about the apple never falling too far from the tree is right, even when it’s not your own damn tree.”

  “Now you’re talking BS. You’d never hurt me. God, I all but asked you to spank me, and you wouldn’t do it. It’s a different kind of pain, but you won’t even cause me that much.” She framed his face in her palms. “You overreacted, yes, but your heart was in the right place. It’s always in the right place, just like it’s been every day since you first walked in my bar. Just like when you helped me catch up in chemistry class when I kept falling asleep.”

  After a long pause, he cleared his throat. “I don’t wear a halo well. Especially when it’s undeserved.”

  “Says who?”

  “I wanted you. Then, now.” His direct blue gaze sliced through her, leaving her quivering inside. “I knew you were taken, and it didn’t stop me. Christ, I nearly tore you apart today.”

  “You hear me complaining?”

  “No. But I don’t want to be like him. I don’t want you to go along.”

  Her face flared with heat. “What part of today made you think I was going along? I was fully involved, I assure you. I’ll be fully involved the next time and the time after that. You’d be surprised how fast you see the error of your ways when you walk into your living room and see your boyfriend inside one woman, his face in another’s lap, and a third one getting herself off a few feet away.”

  “Kylie, wait.” When she started to rise, he circled his fingers around her wrist to hold her still. “I got hit in the head today. Don’t listen to me.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “Nice try.”

  “I’m sorry if I questioned your ability to make up your own mind. I guess I’m just a little amazed that you’re here with me. That there’s nothing standing in our way.”

  Her cheeks warmed again for an altogether different reason. “Jumping out of one relationship and right into another wouldn’t be too smart,” she said, well aware she already had.

  Casual sex didn’t enter the conversation when it came to Justin Norton.