by R. Linda
Tate hadn’t made an appearance since the party ended, so I figured he must have been inside trying to smooth things over with the crazy girlfriend. I didn’t know what her problem with me was. I’d been nothing but hospitable to her since she moved into my house. She was just so rude.
We laid the pool down on the deck and placed the mattress inside to make a bed with sides. I was surprised it fit.
“Do you think it will float?” I asked, unsure of whether it would sink or not. Blow-up pools weren’t meant to be used as flotation devices. Neither were mattresses, really.
“It’s air. It weighs nothing.”
“You just complained the mattress was too heavy with so much air.”
“Let’s find out then.” She laughed and pushed the little pool with the mattress inside into the water. It didn’t sink. “Looks good.”
“Till we get in.” I wasn’t sure it would hold our weight too. I’d never done anything like this.
“Well,” she said thoughtfully, coming to stand beside me. “Let’s see.”
Before I knew what was happening, her hands pressed into my back as she shoved me hard and I tumbled off the edge of the pool and straight onto the mattress.
I screamed as I went down. Arms and legs flailing around me.
“It floats,” she announced with a giggle. “But I think it needs something else. Be right back.”
She took off again and left me floating in the pool on our makeshift bed. Too afraid to move in case it tipped over, I laid back and relaxed, bobbing softly in the water. It was kind of peaceful. Eva returned a moment later with pillows and blankets and a jug of cotton candy cocktails.
“Press play,” I told her, so she’d start the movie before getting in the pool with me.
She pressed play and frowned. “You’re floating away. Get back here.”
“Sure, let me just grab my oar and row back to the edge.” I rolled my eyes at her. It wasn’t like I could command the mattress to move.
Eva looked around and spotted the broom leaning against the pool shed. She grabbed it and held the handle out for me and pulled me to the edge. Handing me the jug of alcohol, she climbed in beside me with the pillows and blankets, making sure we were covered.
“Best idea ever,” she said.
“Yeah, but umm... where are the glasses?” I waved at the jug in front of her.
Her eyes widened. “Hang on,” she said and shoved her hand into her top, pulling out two straws. “There you go.” She smiled proudly.
Gross.
“Hmm. I don’t want your boob sweat on my straw.” I pushed her hand away.
“Shut up.” I copped an elbow in the rib. “I’ll drink it all myself then.” And she snatched the jug from me.
“No, no. It’s fine.” I wiped the straw down on the blanket before dropping it into the jug and settling back against the pillows to watch the movie on the outdoor screen.
Chapter Eleven
TATE
In the light of day, the damage Rachel caused was much worse than the broken busts and frames on the walls. There was a large scratch running down the length of the hardwood floors in the hall. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Rachel scratched it purposely with the spiked heel of her boot. There were scratches and dints on the walls. A small hole that needed plastering, and the bathroom mirror was shattered. Not to mention whatever carnage she left in her room after I walked out last night.
I was going to kill her.
Then make her pay for the repairs.
But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave the place looking the way it did. Wren didn’t deserve that.
I stood in the kitchen as I waited for the coffee to brew. There was no point trying any handyman shit until I had caffeine in my veins. Glancing out the window, I noticed something floating in the pool and frowned. I thought I had cleared everything last night. I didn’t want Wren to wake to a dump in her backyard.
It looked like an inflatable pool. What the hell? Where did that come from?
I made my coffee and walked outside to remove it. It wasn’t until I stood on the deck beside the pool and peered down at it that I realized Wren and Eva were sleeping in there.
In a kiddie pool, floating in the much larger inground pool.
I burst out laughing.
It was a pretty sweet setup from what I could tell. Pillows and blankets. They looked cozy.
The sound of my laughter woke Wren. She sat up too fast and the pool dipped dangerously close to the water below. Her eyes widened in fear, as she scrambled back from the edge before she fell in again.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked.
She looked up at me and crossed her arms. “Sleeping.”
“In the pool?”
“We watched a movie.”
Like that explained why they had blown up a pool and used it as a floating bed.
“In the pool?” I asked again.
“It’s none of your business what I do in my own backyard.”
“Think it is. Since it’s my yard too.”
Wren opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Eva’s hand shooting out of the blanket to cover her face. “Shhh. Turn it down. And shut off the lights. I’m sleeping,” she groaned.
Wren wacked her with a pillow. “Get up.”
“Dreamy Dick,” Eva mumbled and sat up as Wren elbowed her in the side before she turned to me with a saccharine smile.
“Is that coffee in your hand?”
“Nope.” I lifted the mug to my lips and took a sip before flashing her a grin and walking away, ignoring Eva’s weird remark.
“Tate! Get back here,” she called after me. “I need an oar.”
I chuckled as I closed the French doors behind me. They were floating in the middle of the pool with no way of reaching the edge unless they paddled. I’d let them suffer for a few minutes before I went back out there.
I grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and poured them both a coffee. After how much they drank last night, which I imagined to be a lot since they slept in the freaking swimming pool, they were going to need a good caffeine hit.
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to butter Wren up a little before I broke the news about the damage to her house and property. She was going to freak.
I was just about to take their coffees out to them and give Wren her oar when I heard the garage door open. I frowned. No one had access to the garage. Not even me.
I made my way outside to the garage and saw a guy moving around the cars.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I called out.
He jumped and turned to face me with his hands held up in front of him.
“Get out of my garage.”
“Whoa buddy. I think there’s been a mistake. Is Wren here?”
“Wren? What do you want with Wren?” I crossed my arms and stood my ground wondering how he got into the garage in the first place. “How’d you get in?”
“I have a code.”
My eyebrows lifted and jaw clenched. This guy had the code, but I couldn’t park my fucking car in there. And then it hit me. I remembered Wren saying something about paying a guy to clean and drive the cars once a month. “Nelson?”
“That’d be me, man. Didn’t mean to startle you. I’m just here to look after Mr. Keller’s vehicles.” He stepped forward to shake my hand.
“About that,” I said, not knowing what came over me and unable to stop myself before it was too late. “Wren is no longer in need of your services. Sorry.”
“What? No, she wouldn’t do that. She needs me to...”
I held up my hand to stop him. “She has me.”
“But she knows I need the money to pay for my father’s treatment. I can’t lose this job, man. It’s the difference between his medication or not.”
Shit. I groaned and rubbed a hand across my forehead. Wren was keeping him on even though she was on the verge of bankruptcy and losing her damn pizza delivery because he had a sick father.
“I really need this job, man,” he begged.
I was going to regret this; I knew it, but what choice did I have? Wren’s financial situation was bleaker than a midwinter’s day. I’d walked in on her one morning, throwing the newspaper across the room, and groaning frustration because she’d applied for all the jobs in town. She had tears in her eyes and stared woefully at an empty pizza box, almost like she was preparing to say goodbye. I asked her what was wrong and after a little coaxing, she admitted she was flat broke. Something about her trust fund not being accessible for two more years.
“Just give me a minute.” I ran back into the house and returned a minute later with my checkbook. “This should cover it, yeah?” I wrote him a check with a substantial amount of money and handed it to him.
Nelson’s eyes bugged out of his head and his hands shook. “I can’t accept this.”
“You can. And you will. Think of it as severance pay.”
“It’s more than what I make in a year. Hell, it’s more than what I make in five years.”
“It’s fine. Thank you for your service, but you are free to go.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” he rambled and shook my hand vigorously before leaving.
I walked back into the house, grabbed the coffees and took them out to Wren and Eva who were leaning over the edge of their floating bed, trying to paddle with their hands to the side. They weren’t too far away, another foot or so.
I chuckled and set down their coffees. “Need some help?”
“No,” Wren said, at the same time Eva shouted yes.
I dropped down to the pavers beside the deck, and stretched out my hand for Wren to grab so I could pull them in. She screwed her nose up at it. “I made you a coffee.” I pointed over my shoulder to where I placed the mugs.
“Fine,” she huffed and threaded her fingers through mine, and I dragged them to the edge so they could climb out.
“Thank you,” Wren said once she was on steady ground.
“No problem.”
“And thanks for the coffee. Don’t suppose you have some painkillers? My head is pounding.”
“Sorry, no. Serves you right for drinking so much.”
Eva flopped down in a deck chair. “I’m dying. This is your fault, Wren.”
“My fault? Are you serious? You were the one...”
I walked away and left them to bicker. I had a mess to clean, and a garage full of cars to look after.
Dammit.
Chapter Twelve
WREN
Eva and I slept for most of the day. I hated alcohol, and Eva, and was never drinking again.
That was a total lie. I’d drink again. Just not today, and maybe no more cotton candy flavored cocktails anytime soon.
When we were finally showered and feeling more like ourselves. I decided to walk Eva to her car just to get moving a little. No way would I be doing my yoga today, but a short stroll to the driveway was better than nothing. Or so I thought. Until I saw Tate.
He was shirtless. In grey sweatpants.
My mouth watered.
He was so sexy it should be illegal for him to be seen in public.
“Holy fucking Dreamy Dick. Look at that.” Eva grabbed my arm and pointed at him. “Wren. Look. Can you see him? He’s so... and ugh, he’s even... and oh my god, he’s wet. Wren. Look. Right there. It’s Tate. Wet. And soapy. Are you looking? Wren. Can you see what I see?”
“I can see that,” I growled and pushed Eva toward her car. “Go home.”
“Oooh, want some privacy, huh?” She winked.
“I don’t want you to be an accessory to murder. You’re gonna be my alibi.” My hands clenched into fists as heat flooded my body.
Not the heat that was likely flooding Eva’s body. But burning, flaming rage. What did he think he was doing? What right did he have to invade my space? Touch my things? My dad’s things?
“Babe, you’re shaking.” Eva placed a hand on my arm.
“Eva, go. And if anyone comes asking questions later. I was with you at your place. We watched a movie, okay?”
“Alibi. Got it. Try not to mess his face up too much. Or his chest. Or abs. Or ass for that matter. Suffocation is the least messy,” she said with a nod. “That way, his pretty face and smokin’ body will remain intact in the afterlife. It would be a shame to destroy that for eternity.” She waved in Tate’s direction.
“Thanks for the advice.”
“Always happy to help.” Eva kissed my cheek and took off in her car.
I walked over to Tate who smiled widely. “You’re alive, I see. Feeling better?”
He wasn’t going to get out of this mess by being kind. I raised an eyebrow and took a deep breath. “What are you doing?”
“Washing a car.” He dipped down and placed the sponge in his hand into the bucket of soapy water before standing up and leaning over the top of the car to scrub the roof, giving me the perfect view of his ass.
Dammit. I shook my head and closed my eyes. I would not look at him. He was too distracting.
“Stop. Put the sponge down.” I wanted him away from my dad’s car. It was hard enough to look at them, let alone to watch him get up close and personal with them.
Tate ignored me and continued washing the car with so much care, it hurt to see. He lovingly swiped the sponge across the cherry-red paint with long, wide strokes, much the same way my dad used to care for the car when he was alive.
My chest ached.
I couldn’t watch him anymore. He needed to stop.
“Tate. Stop,” I begged again. “Please stop. Don’t touch the car.”
“Wren, I can’t. If I don’t finish the soap will...”
I didn’t hear the rest of his words as my feet carried me over to him. I reached for the sponge to stop him, but he moved it out of my way, and I broke. I pounded my fists into his back and pleaded with him. “Stop.”
“Whoa. Hey.” Tate dropped the sponge and turned to face me. “What’s wrong? I can’t leave it half washed.” He grabbed my shoulders and held me at arm’s length.
“Why?”
“Because the sun will wreck the paint if I don’t wash the soap off and dry it properly.”
“No, not that,’ I sighed. “Why are you doing this? How did you get into the garage?”
“Because they need to be looked after.”
“No. I have Nelson for that.” I sniffed back the tears that threatened to spill. I knew I was too emotional and acting crazy, but grief did that to a person. They were my dad’s cars. Nelson helped him out from time to time, and I knew he’d be the only one Dad would trust to care for them. Besides, I paid Nelson a lot of money so I didn’t have to ever see the cars. And twice in eight days Tate forced me to face them.
Tate rubbed the back of his neck. His forearms flexing with the movement. My stupid eyes betrayed me. “Not anymore.” He winced.
“What do you mean not anymore?”
“I let Nelson go.”
“You what?” I shouted and pushed him back. “How could you do that?”
“Could you really afford to keep up his monthly payments?”
“That has nothing to do with you.” I punched him in the chest. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Oh my god. I needed to call Nelson and get him back here. He’d be freaking out right now. He needed this job more than I needed pizza. And that was saying something. His father was sick, and his treatment and medical bills were crazy expensive. That’s why I paid him way more than the job was worth. I wanted to help his father, the way my dad had tried before he died.
“I thought it would save you some money, and I really don’t mind taking over,” Tate said.
Shoot. He was still talking. I was working out what I was going to say to Nelson. How I was going to apologize to him for Tate. “You really are a bastard,” I whispered.
“What?”
“You heard. You had no right. Nelson, he’s... His situation is different.” I wiped a te
ar that fell down my cheeks.
“Oh, you mean his dad?”
That startled me. “What do you know about his dad?”
Tate stretched out a hand tentatively and pulled me close. He wrapped his arms around me, and I shivered from his touch. “Enough. I gave Nelson a severance pay. It should be more than enough to care for his dad for the next few years,” he whispered into my ear.
My hands clutched at his shirt, only he wasn’t wearing one, so I was grabbing his chest. His very naked, very firm chest. I should have been mortified, but I didn’t care. I was so overwhelmed with emotion that my voice was thick, and I choked on my words. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I have the money to spare and you don’t. Wouldn’t want you giving up your twice-weekly pizza.”
I laughed into his chest and his arms tightened around me. “Sorry for upsetting you.”
“But what about the cars?”
“Let me take care of them.”
“You would do that?”
“Since it cost me a small fortune, yes.” He shrugged.
“And when you no longer live here and return to your place in Malibu with the wench?”
Tate barked out a laugh. “She deserves that. When that happens, I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.”
“Speaking of the wench...” He rubbed his hands up and down my back. “I have something to tell you, and you’re not going to like it. But I’m going to take care of it.”
I pushed out of his arms, instantly missing the warmth that enveloped me, and wiped my eyes. “What?”
“Maybe I should show you. Come on,” he said, and led me inside.
Dread settled in my stomach, and I wondered whether I really would need Eva’s alibi or not.
Chapter Thirteen
WREN
I had avoided Rachel like the plague all week. Good thing too because I likely would have ripped out her hair extensions and made a voodoo doll out of them. There was still a chance of that happening. I couldn’t believe she destroyed so much of my art. And those pieces in the house were my parents’ favorites. Ones they hand-picked themselves to suit their decor. They might not have meant much to her, but to me, they were priceless. Irreplaceable.
