Beautifully Broken Control

by Catherine Cowles

  My hands reached out and pushed hangers aside until I found what I was looking for. My lone sundress. I’d found it at a second-hand shop in Portland. And even though I’d had no use for it, I couldn’t resist it. I’d felt guilty about the purchase for days after and probably would’ve returned it if the shop hadn’t had a no-refund policy. But it was perfect for today.

  I pulled it out and hung in on the back of the closet door. I looked down at Chuck. “Hopefully, this works.” He lay down on the floor. “Thanks for your vote of confidence.”

  I glanced at the clock in the kitchen. “Shit. I gotta get going.” Chuck didn’t move. If people could hear how much I talked to my dog, I’d probably be committed. But he’d been my constant companion for so long, the one being I could trust with anything.

  I hurried into the bathroom and hopped into the shower. I made quick work of getting cleaned up, toweling off, and donning a robe. I opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the few items of makeup I had. A little eyeliner, some mascara, and a dash of blush. That would have to be good enough.

  I took a few minutes to weave strands of hair into an intricate braid around the crown of my head before dashing out of the bathroom for my dress and a pair of panties. I sighed as I slipped the fabric over my head. It was that perfect feel of worn cotton.

  I straightened the dress, smoothing out the wrinkles, and then headed back towards the bathroom and the mirror that hung on the outside of the door. My appearance was almost startling. The pale blush pink of the dress accented my complexion perfectly, and the deeper hue of the small rosebuds that made up the straps and lined the neck seemed to make the green of my eyes pop. It was the perfect dress.

  My phone buzzed on my bed, and I made a dash for it.

  Taylor: We’re here. In the back lot.

  Me: Be right down.

  I glanced around my small studio. There was one thing I didn’t have. A purse. Crud. Oh, well. The dress had pockets. That would have to be good enough. I grabbed my keys and phone and bent to give Chuck one more rub. “You be good.” He let out a cross between a snort and a grunt, and I laughed.

  I hurried out, locking the door behind me, and then headed down the stairs. As soon as I was out the back door, Walker was climbing out of his truck and opening the passenger door for me.

  “Thank you.” I climbed in, grateful for my height since the truck was ridiculously high.

  Walker hopped in. “You look beautiful, Kennedy.”

  I felt my cheeks start to heat.

  Taylor grinned at me through the rearview mirror. “No, she looks smokin’. Get it, girl.”

  I let out a startled laugh. “That wasn’t really what I was going for, but this is the only dress I have.” I was relieved to see that Taylor was dressed similarly in a flouncy skirt and sleeveless blouse.

  “Well, thank God it is because you look gorg.”

  “Thank you. So do you. I love that skirt.”

  Taylor brushed her hands over the vibrant fabric. “You can borrow it anytime.”

  My laughter returned. “Uh, Tay. I think that might be a little too short on me.” Taylor was basically a pixie, meaning she and Walker were about the cutest couple ever. Her, a petite spitfire, and him all tall, dark, and handsome.

  She shrugged. “It’d show off those long legs of yours, though.”

  “Yeah, and probably half my butt.”

  Taylor snickered. “You certainly wouldn’t be hurting for dates.”

  “All right, already,” Walker griped as he turned to take the road out of town towards Sutter Lake. “Enough about legs and butts and skirts.”

  I reached forward and patted his shoulder. “Sorry about that, buddy.”

  He shook his head. “I hate being outnumbered.”

  Taylor giggled. “I love it when you’re outnumbered.”

  “Short-stack,” he warned.

  “Bigfoot,” she warned back. But the heat in her eyes spoke of love and passion.

  Longing flared to life in my chest again. To have someone to lovingly bicker with. To share a language only the two of you spoke. To have a partner. And maybe, one day, a family again. I let my gaze go unfocused as I stared out the window at the passing fields. One day.

  It wasn’t long before we were turning off the road and pulling to a stop at an intimidating gate. No one would be getting in here without the owner’s consent. My gaze flicked up to the single word in scrawling script above the entry. Termonn. Gaelic for sanctuary. I wondered if Cain had chosen it. He didn’t look Irish. Walker rolled down his window, pressed a button, and waved at what must’ve been a camera. My stomach tightened. A few seconds later, the gates swung open.

  Walker wove his truck down a curved gravel drive. When I caught my first glimpse of the house, I let out a little gasp. It was beautiful. Wood and stone and glass for days. Gorgeous, but way too big for one man. What was he going to do with all that space?

  Taylor let out a low whistle. “Not too shabby.”

  Walker chuckled. “Wait until you see the view.”

  That’s what I was hungry for, the lake. But I reined in my desire to forgo the party entirely and head straight for the water. I’d make nice first.

  We climbed out of the truck as the front door opened, and Sarah appeared with Noah. Noah bounded down the steps. “This place is awesome! Cain has his own dock, and he said he’s going to get a boat and that I can come over and go tubing anytime I want.”

  At least the man was generous with what he had. That was something. Sarah pulled me in for a hug as Noah bounced around us. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “It was nice of you to invite me.”

  Sarah gave my shoulders a squeeze as she released me. “Of course. You’re one of the family.”

  That low background noise of guilt hummed a little louder. I wasn’t. Because they didn’t know who I really was. What I’d been a part of. I wasn’t sure they’d want to claim me as one of theirs if they did. And I didn’t think I could withstand the look of disappointment in their eyes if they ever found out. I shook it off and followed the group up the stone steps.

  The house was no less impressive inside. There was a massive stone fireplace circled by one of the largest sectionals I’d ever seen. I was surprised it wasn’t fancy leather but more a distressed linen. It looked incredibly comfortable—the perfect place to curl up with a good book on a stormy day. But it was the windows that stole the show. The entire back of the house was glass. It felt like the lake and the forest were a part of the home. It was magical.

  “It’s breathtaking, huh?” Jensen leaned her shoulder into mine.

  “That view is pretty spectacular.”

  “That it is. Come on.” She gestured towards a bar that was stocked with more alcohol and soda than a party ten times this size could consume. “Let’s get you a drink.”

  I swallowed. “Thanks.”

  “What are you in the mood for?”

  My gaze traveled over the bar, settling on an old favorite. A tiny smile pulled at my lips. “I’ll take one of these.” I grabbed the small glass bottle of Perrier out of the bucket of ice.

  Jensen’s head gave a little jerk. “There’s grade-A hooch here, Kenz. And you’re going for fizzy water?”

  I grinned at her. “This is my favorite, and I never get it for myself.” It wasn’t a necessity, and Perrier was so dang expensive, I just couldn’t justify it.

  J shook her head. “Whatever floats your boat.”

  My eyes traveled over the room. It looked like everyone was here. I couldn’t help the way my gaze seemed to catch on Cain. His dark hair gleamed in the sunlight as he bent to talk with Noah. I forced myself to look away and back to Jensen. “I’m going to take this out onto the back deck to check out the view.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’m going to check on all the food, make sure it’s reheating properly.”

  I turned back to her. “Do you need any help?”

  Jensen waved me off. “No, I’m good. Go get a look at tha
t view before the sun sets.”

  I headed outside, and as soon as the fresh mountain air hit my lungs, I began to relax. I leaned against the railing of the deck, breathing deeply. Magic. There really was no other way to describe this place. The wind rustled leaves, and a frog croaked as the sun, low in the sky, seemed to make the water shimmer.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  I jolted at the low voice and spun to see Cain. I swallowed hard. “It is. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you could come. I wanted to apologize if I came on a little strong the other day. I can be nosy.”

  My palms dampened. “Is that what it was? Nosiness?”

  Cain studied me, seeming to search my face. He shrugged, the movement letting the defined muscles beneath another of those expertly tailored shirts show. “I’m protective of my friends. I didn’t know anything about you.”

  My eyes widened. “You thought I was going to hurt your friends.”

  He took a sip of what looked like either a vodka soda or a gin and tonic. “I’m not sure exactly what I thought, but I know I was wrong.”

  The muscles that had tightened across my shoulder blades when he first appeared relaxed just a bit. He had no idea who I was. My history. My family. He figured there was something off about me. And he was right, so how could I be mad at that? “You’re forgiven.”

  Cain arched a brow. “Easy as that?”

  I shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not really one for grudges.”

  “Good to know.” He turned, gesturing to the house. “So, what do you think?”

  I followed his movement. “It’s gorgeous. But it’s a lot of house for just one person.”

  Cain swirled the ice in his glass. “I like my space.”

  I let out a small laugh. “Well, you’ll certainly have that.” My gaze traveled over all the windows, settling on the ones right in front of us, ones that looked into the kitchen. There was food everywhere. So much that it would take the dozen or so of us here a month to eat it all. “Why did you get so much?” My voice came out choked.

  Cain’s brow furrowed. “So much what?”

  “Food.”

  He laughed. “Well, it is a party.”

  An uncomfortable heat rolled through my body. “What are you going to do with the leftovers?”

  Cain studied me, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. “I guess I’ll send leftovers home with whoever wants them, keep some for myself, and throw out the rest.”

  My hands tightened into fists. “That’s incredibly wasteful.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I’m so sorry. That was rude and none of my business. If you’ll excuse me.”

  I dashed around Cain before he could say a word and headed down the deck steps. The grass tickled my toes as I made my way to the dock. It was older but looked sturdy enough. I sat down on the end, slipping off my sandals so I could dip my toes into the frigid water.

  I needed the cold right then. Needed it to cool my temper and my embarrassment. I let my head drop into my hands. What was I thinking? What Cain wanted to do with his money was none of my business.

  The dock swayed as someone sat next to me. I couldn’t look. I saw only rolled-up slacks and male feet dipping into the water next to me. “You’re not wrong, you know. It is wasteful.”

  I said nothing but dropped my hands, keeping my gaze on the water. “Jensen said you volunteer at the local shelter. Why don’t I drop the leftovers by there tomorrow, along with a donation?”

  “It’s not always about money, you know.” What was wrong with me? It was like I couldn’t keep my mouth shut around this man. But I’d seen money thrown at so many problems before. When you seemed to have an endless supply, what did it really cost you? I swallowed down my frustration.

  “What do you mean?”

  I shook my head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything. That would be great, and the shelter can always use donations.”

  Cain reached out and, with a single finger, turned my face towards him. The contact was gentle and rough at the same time, sending tingles up the side of my face. “No. Tell me the truth.”

  I swallowed, my gaze locked with his as he released his hold on me. “You should spend some time there.” Shut up, Kennedy. “Get to know the people you’re helping. See how important food is to them.”

  Clarity seemed to dawn for Cain. “Sounds fair enough. When can I start?”

  Like the genius I was, I’d somehow convinced the man I’d been determined to stay away from to volunteer at the place I spent most of my evenings. Smooth move, Kennedy.

  10

  Cain

  I shut the door to my SUV, the noise echoing off the mostly empty parking lot. But the sound did nothing to attract Kennedy’s attention. She stood, head bent, gaze focused intently on her phone. Too focused. She didn’t seem to be aware of anything around her. Foolish. Dangerous.

  I cleared my throat. “Kennedy.”

  She jumped, a hand flying to her chest. “Whoa. You scared me.”

  I fought the scowl that wanted to surface. “You weren’t paying attention.” My gaze flicked to her cell, and she quickly shoved it into her bag.

  “Sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess.” She inclined her head towards the doors of the community center. “You ready to go in?”

  She started towards the building before I’d said a single word, but I reached out a hand, grasping her elbow as gently as possible. It was a mistake. Her skin was the smoothest thing I’d ever felt. It seemed to burn my fingertips, sear my palm. “Are you okay?”

  Kennedy nodded quickly. “Fine. Why?”

  The way her eyes drifted away told me that she was lying. My jaw made that familiar clicking noise as it tightened. “You were so focused on your phone, you wouldn’t have noticed a herd of elephants until they were trampling you.”

  Her berry-red lips quirked. “A herd of elephants? I don’t think those are native to Oregon.”

  “That’s not the point. It’s dangerous not to be aware of your surroundings.”

  The small smile fell from her face, and I hated myself just a little bit for being the cause. “Sutter Lake is safe.”

  “Bad things can happen anywhere.” Hell, there’d been a serial killer hunting in the area mere months ago.

  Kennedy straightened. “You’re right. Bad stuff happens everywhere, but I’m not going to live my life assuming it’s waiting around every corner.”

  “I’m not asking you to do that. I’m asking you to be careful.” I struggled to keep my tone even, to not allow the anger and frustration pulsing through me to show.

  She sighed. “I’m careful. Promise. Come on, we need to go, or we’re going to be late.”

  She wasn’t careful enough. My hands clenched and flexed. I had no control over Kennedy, or how she lived her life, how she protected herself. Why did that burn so much when I barely knew the woman?

  Kennedy pushed open the door, and I hurried to catch up. “The shelter is currently housed in the community center, but they’re trying to raise enough funds to build their own separate space.” I took in the space that looked mostly like a school cafeteria. “This is where residents eat, have activities, and where events are held.”

  “How often do you volunteer here?”

  Kennedy turned to face me, the action causing her hair to swing and catch the early evening light, the red flaming for just a moment. “Usually, five nights a week.”

  That was a lot. Between her work at the Kettle and this, I wondered when she got any time for herself. “That’s generous of you.”

  Something flitted across her expression, too quick for me to identify for certain, but it looked a lot like pain. “I get a lot out of it in return.”

  My palms itched to reach out to her. To comfort. And I had no idea why. “Why don’t you introduce me around?”

  “Sounds good.”

  A back door swung open, and a man appeared. He wore khakis and a blue polo shirt. He smiled wide the mi
nute he saw Kennedy, but the expression turned forced as soon as he spotted me. “Kenz, who do you have here?”

  Kennedy returned his smile. Hers was warm, and something in my gut twisted at the familiarity. “Doug, this is Cain. He’s new to town and wants to help out. Cain, this is Hope House’s director, Doug.”

  I reached out a hand to shake Doug’s. His grip attempted to dominate, to show who was in charge. I simply kept mine steady, not giving in to his games. He took it as a victory, smirking slightly. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Nice to meet you, Doug.”

  “You, as well. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll need to make a copy of your driver’s license. We do basic background checks on all of our volunteers.”

  I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and handed him my ID. “Here you go.”

  There was a flicker of disappointment in his expression, as though he thought I might throw a temper tantrum. “I’ll go run this now.” His gaze flicked back to Kennedy. “Have you thought any more about Swan Lake? If we’re going to go, I should get tickets.”

  Kennedy’s fingers twisted in the strap of her bag. “I can’t right now. Things are just too busy. Thanks for inviting me, though.”

  Doug’s forced smile was back. “Of course. We’ll go another time.” He turned on his heel and headed down another hall. Kennedy’s shoulders slumped slightly.

  “Swan Lake, huh?” Why did her denial make me so damn happy?

  Her body gave a little jolt as though she’d forgotten I was even there. “Yeah, he knows I love ballet.”

  I edged just a bit closer. “Why aren’t you going with him, then?” I couldn’t help probing, I wanted to know more, to see how her mind worked, to find out who—and what—Doug was to her. I should’ve restrained myself, but my control always seemed to slip a bit around Kennedy.

  She nibbled on the corner of her lip. “I’m really busy right now.” Kennedy paused and then blew out a breath. “And I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. I’m not interested in being anything but friends.”