Before We Were Strangers

by Brenda Novak

  She was drunk all right. “Yeah, it’s me.”

  “I’m dancing.”

  “I can see that.”

  “And I don’t feel anything.”

  Was that what this was all about? Getting numb? Avoiding the pain?

  Part of him couldn’t blame her. He empathized with what she was going through. But it was a damn dangerous thing to do, especially in a bar where there were so many men dying to get such a beautiful woman on her back.

  “Do you mind?” her partner said. “She’s with me. Find someone else.”

  The guy thought he had a good thing going—a chance of getting lucky—which caused Micah’s hands to curl into fists. “She’s in no condition to give consent, so she isn’t leaving with you, regardless. You might as well let go and walk away, find someone else yourself.”

  Her partner lifted his hands and backed up. “Dude, I’m not trying to take advantage of her.”

  “Good. I’m happy to hear that,” he said, because just thinking about what might’ve happened made him see red.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he told Sloane, but as soon as he took her hand and started leading her out, the guy she’d been dancing with cut him off.

  “Wait a second. If she’s not leaving with me, she’s not leaving with you.”

  “Wanna bet?” Micah said.

  The guy got right up in Micah’s face. “I don’t like you.”

  Micah glared back at him. “I don’t give a shit whether you like me or not. I’m taking her home. Now. So step aside, or you and I are going to have a serious problem.”

  The guy must’ve heard the resolve beneath his words, must’ve understood that Micah was willing to take it to a whole other level, because he stepped out of the way, allowing Micah to get past him.

  Micah pulled Sloane along until they got outside and reached his truck. “Why haven’t you been answering my calls?” he asked as he lifted her into the passenger’s seat.

  She closed her eyes again and let her head fall back. She was completely out of it. Given her condition, he wasn’t expecting a coherent answer. So she surprised him when she looked up at him and said, “Because I knew I’d just want to rip your clothes off. That’s all I’ve been able to think about since I came home.”

  Micah felt an immediate tightening in his groin but took a deep breath to offset the sudden deluge of testosterone. “You have a very unusual way of showing interest,” he said and secured her seat belt before closing the door.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It was pitch-black when Sloane woke up. Where was she? Her head hurt, and her hair reeked of smoke and alcohol.

  With a groan, she patted her surroundings. Then she smelled something subtler, a hint of cologne and some pine-scented soap on the pillows and sheets.

  That scent connected with a memory, and suddenly she realized where she had to be. She sat up so fast her head began to pound. “Micah?” she called into the darkness.

  He wasn’t in bed with her. She was wearing a large, soft cotton T-shirt—presumably one of his—and she was alone. But she heard movement almost right away, coming from the living room: footsteps in the hallway before her door swung open.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his large body filling the opening.

  The concern in his voice felt as good as a soft hand to the face—reassuring, calming. Her disorientation eased instantly. “No. I feel sick.”

  “Do you need to throw up?”

  “Maybe. I don’t remember ever drinking so much before in my life. But it didn’t matter how many shots I took. Nothing seemed strong enough to make me forget.”

  He leaned against the doorjamb instead of coming all the way into the room. “You seemed completely out of it when I found you, so I think those shots were working better than you imagine.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m already able to think clearly.”

  “You don’t sound excited about that.”

  “I’m not.”

  He chuckled. “There’s a bowl beside the bed, and I put a glass of water and some painkillers on the nightstand.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take the painkillers now.” She fumbled around, trying to turn on the lamp but couldn’t find the switch, so he came over, wearing nothing but a pair of worn jeans, and turned it on for her.

  She blinked until she could tolerate the light, at which point he handed her the pills and held the water steady so she could drink.

  “What happened?” he asked as he put the glass back on the nightstand. “Why’d you get so wasted? Or is that normal behavior for you these days?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s not normal behavior for me. Alcohol ages you, and it’s not good for your skin. As a model, I never touched it. Last night was a desperate attempt to check out for a while. That’s all.”

  “What pushed you to that point?”

  “I went to Fort Worth to meet with Katrina for lunch.”

  “How’d that go?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “Not good. She did nothing but lie to me. Told me my father was destroyed when my mother left. He was such a good family man. He would never hurt anybody. Yada yada. But the proof that they’d colluded on what she should say was right there, in her phone.”

  “You saw her phone?”

  “I had to spill my drink to get her to leave the table so I could grab it, but then I read several text messages between her and my father.”

  “So you were upset when you left there.”

  “Not from that so much. I mean...it wasn’t good news, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected. My decision to go to the bar had more to do with Randy,” she said as her memory of the day snapped into sharper focus.

  “Don’t tell me he came to the motel...”

  When she heard the harsh note in Micah’s voice, she knew the thought of Randy bullying her made him defensive and found that comforting, too. Clyde had been her anchor since she’d left, the one thing that had held her steady. Now he was gone, she’d been cast adrift, and it was so much harder not to go back to Micah. She wished he’d pull her into his arms and hold her. Losing her mother and then Clyde had left such a void, one she had no idea how to fill.

  But it wouldn’t be fair to expect Micah to be there for her. “No. I called him at the dealership while I was on my way back to Millcreek.”

  “You called him.”

  Too weak to continue sitting in a fully upright position, she slumped against the wall. The bed had no headboard, but it had a far better mattress than the one at the motel. “Yeah, I called him.”

  “Because...”

  “I was dying to tell him to go fuck himself.”

  Seeming even more concerned, Micah sat on the bed beside her. “Please tell me you didn’t do that.”

  “Actually, I did—more or less.”

  “How’d he take it?”

  She battled back the nausea that threatened. “Not very well.”

  “Shit.”

  She peered through the dark to see him wearing a scowl. “Sorry. I was so angry I felt like I was going to explode. I had to do something.”

  “I understand. It’s just...”

  The muscles in his arm bulged as he ran a hand through his hair. He’d been so skinny in high school. Now he was a man in his prime. “What?”

  “Never mind. I’ll tell you later, when you’re feeling better.”

  She struggled to get her mind—and her eyes—off his bare chest. “Tell me now.”

  “It’s nothing. Just don’t say anything else to your father or your brother, okay? I mean nothing. Stay completely away from them.”

  “I can’t promise anything,” she grumbled. “What I said to Randy is nothing compared to what I’d like to say.”

  “You left town ten years ago without telling anyone you were going. And you haven’t con
tacted anyone since, not until now. They know how you feel.”

  She pulled her legs in to her chest. “I’m sorry you were caught up in...in all of that when you had nothing to do with the problem. Collateral damage,” she murmured. “Will you ever forgive me?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  She blinked at his words. “Why hold on to a grudge?”

  Her skin prickled as his gaze ranged over her. She recognized the sexual hunger in his eyes. “Surely you can guess the answer to that question.”

  “Then you can guess why I didn’t accept your calls today,” she told him.

  “You knew I was trying to reach you and purposely didn’t pick up?”

  “More or less. I went to the bar instead.” Suddenly, she became self-conscious about the fact that she didn’t remember changing into his T-shirt. “Anyway, did I take off my clothes or...?”

  He lifted his hands to show his innocence. “You did. Absolutely.”

  “In front of you?”

  “Yep. Whipped your shirt right off.” A smile curved his lips as if he liked the memory. “I had a hard time stopping you from taking off my clothes, too.”

  “I was trying to undress you?”

  “You were grabbing me, pulling me up against you, trying to kiss me.”

  She cringed. She remembered some of it—the need, the frustration and then the disappointment when he kept setting her away from him. No wonder she’d woken up feeling so terrible. “Sorry about that.”

  “Saying no was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” he admitted. “But you weren’t capable of giving consent, so I had no choice. And I didn’t want it to happen like that, anyway. If I ever take you back to bed, it’s going to be because you want me for a lot more than a quick ride when you’re inebriated.”

  She wanted him when she wasn’t inebriated, too. The alcohol just made the desire more difficult to deny, which was why she’d behaved so badly.

  “What if it was two or three rides? Or... I don’t know, maybe as many as we want while I’m here?” A few moments ago, she’d barely been awake. Now she was fully alert and her heart was banging against her breastbone. She knew she was going back on everything she’d told herself she’d do—letting all her good intentions unravel. But if she hoped to make it through the next few weeks, she couldn’t be fighting two separate battles. She needed to be able to focus on what she’d come here to accomplish.

  He studied her closely. “Are you making me an offer?”

  “I am.” She lowered her voice. “I want to feel something good, Micah. Something fulfilling like it was before. After ten years, I’m tired. I’m looking for shelter from the storm.”

  “We’ll see,” he said and stood up. “For tonight, you’d better get some rest.”

  She’d just bared her heart to him, and he was leaving? “We’ll see?” she repeated as he walked out.

  She heard him laugh, but he didn’t answer.

  “I’m going to rescind my offer in the morning!” she called after him.

  “Then you’re not sure of what you want in the first place,” he called back.

  “You want to make love to me, too, or you wouldn’t have brought me here!”

  “I brought you here to keep you safe!”

  “Was I so drunk you didn’t think I’d be safe alone at the motel?”

  “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  “Talk about what? Is there something else? What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Go to sleep!”

  “I can’t believe you’re staying on the couch! I know you want to get naked with me.”

  When he spoke again, all hint of humor was gone. “I’m not going to lie about that,” he said. “Good night.”

  * * *

  The following morning, Micah threw an arm over his eyes as he heard the shower go on. It’d been a rough night, and it wasn’t getting any easier with daybreak—not while he was lying there, remembering the sight of Sloane after she’d taken off her blouse last night. He wanted to give up and join her, take what he could get, even if it was only temporary. But he told himself he’d be a fool to accept so little when he wanted so much more.

  To distract himself from the desire pumping through his veins, he got up, made some coffee and checked his phone. He’d missed a call from the detective in Keller he’d spoken to yesterday, Detective Ramos. He needed to get back to him. Ramos wanted to talk to Sloane, but first Micah had to break the news—news that had him far more worried for her than he’d been before.

  “That smells good.”

  He glanced up to see Sloane coming toward him. She had her hair up in a towel and was wearing nothing except his T-shirt.

  He scowled when he felt his body react to the sight of her long, bare legs. Only by sheer dint of will did he keep from scooping her into his arms and carrying her to bed.

  “What?” she said.

  “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you?”

  She smiled when she realized what he was talking about. “You’re the one who wasn’t interested,” she said and let her breasts brush his arm as she went around him to put a piece of bread in the toaster.

  He knew she was teasing even before she laughed, but whether she was joking didn’t matter to his body. He grew hard instantly. “I didn’t say that.”

  She pushed the lever down, turned to lean against the counter and arched her eyebrows. “Then it’s too bad you missed your chance.”

  He set down his mug and walked over, locking her between his arms, his body and the cupboards. “You might be more of a temptation now that you don’t smell like a pool hall,” he said and started to slide his lips up the soft skin of her neck.

  He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he reached her mouth. He wanted to kiss her so badly, but he knew how fast that small spark would burn through his restraint.

  She dropped her head back to give him better access, which only made him harder. But then the doorbell rang and he heard his ex-wife calling his name.

  “Damn it,” he muttered as he dragged himself away.

  Sloane was biting her bottom lip and watching him intently when he looked up. “Are you going to tell her I’m here?”

  “Hell no,” he said and tried to regulate his breathing in hopes of slowing his racing pulse.

  “Micah?” Paige yelled again.

  “Just a sec!” After casting Sloane a final, silencing glance, he went to the door. “What’s up?” he asked as soon as he saw Paige on his stoop, showered and ready for the day. She was obviously on her way to work, which meant Trevor had to be at school already.

  “Sloane’s car is at the Royal Flush, but she’s nowhere to be found.”

  He pretended as though she’d dragged him out of bed and he wasn’t quite with it yet. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying her car’s at a bar that isn’t even open at this time of day, but she’s not at the motel, either. I’ve been trying to call her since dinnertime last night and have gotten no response. All my calls go straight to voice mail.”

  “Where do you think she is?”

  She kept trying to look around him. Whether she suspected the truth or was just being nosy in general, he couldn’t say. She was always trying to learn as much as possible about where he’d been, who he’d been with and how he was living.

  He stood in the center of the doorway so she couldn’t see anything other than what she could glimpse on the right or left and hoped to hell Sloane’s clothes weren’t lying on the floor within eyesight. Sloane had started peeling them off as soon as he’d gotten her home, but he was fairly certain they’d at least reached the living room.

  “You haven’t seen her?” she said. “I’m starting to get worried.”

  “No, but let me get showered and I’ll go see what I can find.” He w
asn’t going to tell on himself. If there was a chance Paige might not find out he’d been at the bar, too, and left with Sloane, he had to take it. For Trevor’s sake, he had to keep her as happy as possible—and anything to do with Sloane sent her crazy.

  “You don’t have to work today?”

  “Not until three.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be the one to look for her. I’ll call her father. He might be able to tell me something.”

  Micah didn’t insist that he’d go out searching, because he already knew where Sloane was.

  Paige hesitated as though she wasn’t quite ready to leave. “Trevor enjoyed the field trip on Monday.”

  “I’m glad he was able to go.”

  “Thanks for getting that permission slip and turning it in. I’m sorry I was a bitch about the key.”

  She’d been a bitch about so many things, but he was willing to forget it all if she’d just back off and leave him be. “No problem.”

  Still, she stood there, gazing up at him with such longing he could barely look back at her. “Do you know what it does to me to see you like this?”

  He wasn’t sure what she meant. He hadn’t even showered. But the expression on her face and the tone of her voice were making him uncomfortable. He was trying to decide what to say, how he could head off what might be coming next, but she didn’t give him the chance to interject.

  “I’d do anything to get you back, Micah. Anything. Just tell me what it is you need.”

  He cleared his throat as he searched for the magic words to make it all better, but those words had eluded him their entire marriage, so he doubted he’d be able to come up with them now. “Paige—”

  When she heard the tone of his voice, she put up a hand. “Never mind. I know what you’re going to say. It’s just that none of it ever makes any sense to me. We could be the happiest family on earth, if only you’d let us. I know how much you love Trevor.”

  She hadn’t approached him like this in several months. Shortly after he’d filed for divorce, she’d switched from pleading to exacting revenge. Occasionally, however, she went back to pleading.