“Wow.” I shake my head. “That must have been terrifying.”
“At first, maybe a little. But it was also liberating. Link came with me, of course. And together we’ve managed to make a pretty decent life for ourselves.”
“Do you ever miss it? Your family, that kind of life?”
“I miss my sister but she comes to visit a few times a year and I talk to her often. As for my parents, that ship sailed long ago. No sense in living in regret over something I never had any power to change.”
“You have a sister?”
“Ellen.” He smiles and for the first time it seems natural and easy. “She’s three years younger than me.”
“Does she still live in Atlanta?”
“She does. My father recently named her C.O.O. of the company he owns. She’s been working there since she was old enough. Not bad for a girl who just turned twenty-five, huh?” He glances in my direction. “Unlike me, Ellen wanted nothing more than to go into business with my father, though some days I think she regrets it. But, one day it’ll all be hers.”
“I’ve always wanted a sister.” My hands fidget in my lap.
“Did you get a brother instead?”
“Nope. It’s just me.”
“And what about your parents? What do they do?”
“My dad’s in, uh, public service.” I keep it basic, hoping he doesn’t pry for more. It’s the truth technically.
“And your mom?” he presses when I don’t say more.
“She died when I was nine.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. It was a long time ago.” I shrug, the conversation getting a little too deep for my liking. I’m fine talking about him and his life but talking about myself isn’t something I have any desire to do. “What’s the name of the company your father owns?” Not that it matters, but I’m hoping to divert the topic back to him.
“Driscoll Atlantic.”
“Wait.” My eyes widen as I instantly recognize the name. My father did some business with them a couple of years back when they were looking to expand into North Carolina. The deal didn’t pan out, but still, what are the odds that our fathers know each other? “Your father owns Driscoll Atlantic?”
“I take it you’ve heard of it?” His fingers tighten around the steering wheel.
Heard of it? I’d have to be living under a rock not to have. The Driscoll’s are probably the wealthiest family in the state of Georgia, maybe even all the surrounding states to boot. They’re practically royalty. Not that any average eighteen-year-old girl would know that, but let’s face it, I’m not your average teenage girl.
And to think, he walked away from all of that... A guaranteed career, more money than he could probably ever spend in his lifetime. But then again, I know better than most that not everything is as glamourous as it may look to an outsider.
“I’ve heard of it.” I shrug, trying to mask my reaction.
Wow. Just wow. It’s one thing to know he broke free of his family to forge his own path, but a family like the Driscolls? I’m suddenly seeing this man in a much different light. I’m also realizing that it’s actually possible to break away, to be my own person. If he can do it, certainly I can too. I’m not sure it’s ever felt so obtainable before now.
What are the odds that we would share so much in common? Both from wealthy families. Both desperate to break away.
Not that my father is Driscoll kind of wealthy, but he’s powerful. And in this day and age, power can sometimes buy you more than money.
“So, is that what all this is about?” I gesture to the arm closest to me that’s sleeved from shoulder to hand in tattoos. “A way of rebelling?”
With what I know of them, I wouldn’t have pegged Titus as someone who came from a family like the Driscolls. Other than his staggering good looks, he seems like your average, run of the mill guy. Well, maybe a little rougher around the edges than most. But definitely not someone who came from an empire worth billions. From his cabin, to this truck, to the casual way he dresses, nothing about him screams money. Then again, I guess that’s kind of the point.
“What these?” He holds up his arm and briefly examines it before placing his hand back on the steering wheel. “No. I didn’t get my first one until after I had left.”
“Well, you sure have a lot now,” I needlessly point out.
“I guess you could say they’re an outlet for me.” He slows the truck, turning left at a stop sign. “What about you? Do you have any tattoos?”
“Me?” I snort. “No. My father would never allow it.”
“Well, if you stick around long enough, I’d be happy to introduce you to my guy. He does some of the best work around.”
“Thanks, though I’d probably be too chicken to actually go through with it.”
I turn my gaze to look out of the window.
“So, are you going to tell me what happened last night?” Titus’ question seems to come out of left field, and while it catches me off guard, my answer is instant.
“Nope.” I shake my head, not sure if I’ll ever be ready to have that conversation. It’s something I would like to push to the back of my mind and never think about again.
“Okay.” He chuckles at my abrupt answer. “How about we start with something easier then?”
“Like what?” I ask when he doesn’t elaborate.
“I don’t know. I feel like I just told you my life story yet I don’t know a damn thing about you.”
“Not much to know.” My goal is to seem uninteresting, but I think my silence might have the opposite effect.
“Somehow I doubt that.” When his gray eyes come back to me, I’m completely unprepared for the intense flutter that runs through my stomach.
“I hate to disappoint, but I’m a pretty boring person.”
It’s not a lie. I kind of really am. My entire life has been one straight shot road paved by my father.
Sure, I could tell him the history there, but I don’t know him well enough to do that. I don’t want him to know who I am. Not until I know I can trust him.
God, I sound like a complete wackadoo. It’s not like learning I’m a governor’s daughter is big news or anything. He had no problem telling me about his family and where he comes from, yet I can’t seem to bring myself to tell him one real thing about myself. I guess, at least for now, I want the chance to be someone else. Or rather, to decide who I am for myself without there being any assumptions or preconceived notions hanging over my head.
“Says the girl who jumped on a stranger’s motorcycle in the middle of nowhere. That doesn’t scream boring to me.”
“There were extenuating circumstances. It’s not like that’s something I’ve made a habit of doing.”
“Good to know.” He chuckles. The sound is deep and raspy and causes tiny bumps to spread across my skin.
“Besides, you were the one who gave me a ride. And let me stay the night at your house. What if I had been some crazy psychopath who tried to kill you in your sleep?”
“No offense, but if you came at me, I think I could take you.”
“Not if you were sleeping.”
“Fair point. I guess I’m lucky you didn’t turn out to be a murderous wench.”
“Careful. There’s still time,” I warn playfully. “Maybe I just haven’t shown you my true colors yet.”
“And maybe I haven’t shown you mine.”
His words are casual, playful even, but something about them still vibrates me to my core.
Maybe it’s naive of me to think, but I honestly don’t believe this man would ever hurt me. If I did, I wouldn’t be here with him right now. And I certainly wouldn’t be staying in his house.
There’s definitely an edgy darkness to him that’s a little unsettling, but I’m not scared of him. Not gonna lie, knowing he’s a Driscoll does make me feel a little better. Though your family name hardly defines who you are.
We travel several more miles, the silence settl
ing back over us like a heavy blanket the closer we get to Rocks Peak. Titus travels the winding roads like he’s driven them a hundred times before. He seems completely relaxed and at ease, which is the complete opposite of how I’m feeling at the current moment.
It isn’t until he turns down Halls Creek Road that my surroundings start to feel even remotely familiar.
“Do you remember how far down the house is?” His question interrupts my thoughts.
“Um.” I look around. “Not really. Maybe a couple of miles down on the right. All I know is that it’s a two story, tan house down by the water with a pretty steep gravel driveway.”
“Okay.” He nods.
“You seem to know this area well.”
“I have some clients I do business with that own houses down here.”
“Clients? What exactly is it that you do?”
“I restore bikes.”
“You restore bikes?” I phrase it as a question.
“Classic motorcycles, if we’re being technical. And yes, I rebuild them from the ground up using all original parts. Well, when all the original parts are available.” He gestures to my right. “Keep an eye out the window and let me know if I pass it.”
“Okay.” I do as he instructs, squinting through the trees in an effort to see the houses that sit on the other side of the thick foliage.
I remember crossing this road with Austin as we headed away from the lake and deeper into the woods. The thought causes a shudder to run through me.
“There,” I shout abruptly when I spot Christy’s bright red car sitting at the bottom of the sloped gravel driveway.
Titus is going slow enough that he’s able to stop before he passes the drive, but just as he’s about to turn, I reach over and grab his forearm. Both of us tense at the contact.
I swear it feels like I touched a live wire. A tingling sensation starts at the tips of my fingers and shoots all the way up my arm.
I quickly release my hold on him.
“Sorry. Can you maybe park the truck up here?” I ask so quickly that the words end up blending together.
He quirks a brow at my request but straightens the wheel, guiding the truck off to the side of the road.
I doubt Christy would think to pay attention to the truck, let alone write down the license plate number, but the less people that know where I am, the better chance I have of staying off the grid for the time being.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, unlatching my seatbelt before slipping out of the truck.
I can feel his gaze hot on my back as I make my way up the driveway and I swear I can sense the exact moment he loses sight of me, as strange as that sounds.
My heart feels like it’s about to beat straight out of my chest as I reach the front porch. There are only two cars parked at the house which gives me a small ray of hope that only Christy and her boyfriend are here.
Reaching for the doorknob, I give it a twist, relieved when the door opens.
Taking off up the stairs, I slip into the first bedroom on the left, which was meant to be my room for the week, quietly shutting the door behind me. I make quick work of gathering my things, most of which are still packed in my suitcase.
The house is quiet, which means Christy, and whoever else is still here, are likely out on the beach.
Grabbing my cell phone, I’m not surprised to see the battery is dead. I have half a mind to leave it here, knowing my father can easily trace it if it’s on, but it makes me feel better knowing I have it if I need it. So I drop it into my purse, then throw the bag on top of my clothes. Zipping my suitcase shut, I hoist it off the bed and exit the room, ready to make a mad dash for the front door.
The sooner I get out of here the better.
Unfortunately, my plans are foiled when Christy and her boyfriend, Wyatt, begin climbing the front porch steps right as I push my way through the front door.
I freeze, not missing Christy’s confused expression. She’s wearing a bright red bikini that barely covers her private areas, and her dark blonde hair is wet and slicked back away from her face.
“There you are. Where the hell did you disappear to last night? I thought I was going to have to send out a search party.”
Not likely. Though her fake concern is almost believable. If she actually cared I highly doubt she’d be out gallivanting in the water with her boyfriend.
“I went down to the beach last night to be alone and ended up falling asleep in one of the lounge chairs. When I came up this morning, you were still in bed.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, and I’m kind of impressed that I was able to come up with the lie so quickly.
She looks down at my suitcase and then back up at me. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes, but I don’t want my dad to know.”
“Where are you going?”
“Well, there’s this guy...” I start, dangling the bait in front of her that I know she’ll take.
“What guy?” A smile forms on her thin lips.
“Just some guy I met a while back. He called me, wants me to come out for a few days. Since my dad thinks I’m here with you...”
“Say no more,” she cuts me off, clapping her hands together excitedly. “You go. If anyone asks, you were here with me all week.” She winks. “Us politician daughters have to stick together.”
“Thanks, Christy. You’re the best.” I slip past them, dragging my suitcase behind me. “You two have fun.” I throw up a little wave over my shoulder as I turn the corner and make the trek down the driveway to where Titus’ truck is parked.
Peeling open the door; I slide my suitcase into the space between us and quickly climb inside.
“You get everything?” he asks, waiting until I shut the door and slide my seatbelt on before popping the truck into gear.
“Yep. All good.” I nod, letting out a slow sigh of relief as he begins to pull away.
That certainly went better than I expected.
Chapter Five
Fallon
“Knock. Knock.” There is a light tap on the bedroom door seconds before Titus’ head pops inside. When he sees I’m decent, he shoves the door the rest of the way open.
“Hey.” I close the sketch book propped in my lap and drop the pencil on top.
“What are you doing?” He steps further into the room.
After we got back from getting my things, Titus and Link went out to the back building to work, so in an effort to distract myself from what the hell I’m doing, I got out my sketchbook.
“Just drawing.” I shrug.
“What are you drawing?”
“Nothing. I’m just doodling really.”
“Can I see?” he asks, crossing the room toward me.
“I’m not very good.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He leans down and grabs the sketchbook out of my lap before plopping down on the edge of the bed in front of me.
Opening the front cover, he slowly flips the pages, taking in all of my scribbles and sketches.
“You drew this?” He stops on the picture of a wilted rose. The thorns are pronounced on the stem with little drops of blood clinging to the tips.
“Yeah.” I fidget nervously.
“These are really good.” He smiles and I notice a small smudge of grease on his cheek.
“You have some engine grease on your cheek.” I wipe at my face to show him where.
He mirrors my action but only manages to smear the grease more.
“Did I get it?”
“No.” I shake my head, laughing lightly when he tries again but completely misses it. “Come here.” I lean forward and run my thumb along his cheek. His gaze is locked on me as I work to wipe the black smudge away.
The air around us pings with electricity causing my lungs to constrict. What it is about being close to this man that makes me feel like I’m seconds away from spontaneously combusting?
“There.” I relax back onto the pillows stacked up behind me, afraid that if I don
’t put some distance between us I might do something really stupid, like throw myself into his lap and kiss his face off.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Thanks.” He nods, his gray eyes seeming to grow darker by the second.
My lower belly clenches.
I swear, I have never had someone make me feel the way Titus does with a simple look. It’s unsettling.
He’s both soft and hard all rolled into one. The perfect contradiction.
“Yeah.” I nod, nervously turning my gaze down to the sketchbook still in his lap.
“You know, I’ve been looking for a design for a new tattoo.”
“Another one?” I gawk at him. “Do you actually have room for more?”
“I’ve got a few bare spots still.” His eyes twinkle in amusement. “Maybe you could sketch something up for me.”
“Me?” I question, a little taken aback.
“Yes, you. These drawings are amazing. You’re really talented.”
“Thank you.” I appreciate the compliment more than he knows. “But if you think the sketches are good, you should see me paint.”
“You paint?”
I nod excitedly. Art has always been a huge passion of mine.
“Landscapes, mostly. When I was younger, I wanted to be an artist. I told my dad I was going to go to art school and one day my paintings were going to be sold in some of the most incredible galleries in the world. Of course, he said no.”
He said no is putting it nicely. More like he told me I was being childish. That there was no way he was going to pay for me to go to college for a degree I would never use. Nope. It was law school or bust. He went to Harvard Law so that meant I had to go to Harvard Law. His daughter following in his footsteps and becoming a successful attorney would be another step he could use in his climb up the political ladder. Because at the end of the day, that’s all my father really cares about. Himself. His career. How other people perceive him, and in turn me.
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