I nodded. “Asher died in a fire.”
“And he meets a girl that looks like you on the road, who conveniently tells him everything that he needs to know?”
“That’s what he said. He said I had red, curly hair, and he thought I was a gypsy.”
“That’s impossible.” He pressed the defrost button as the windows began to steam.
I smiled, the irony of his words fueling a genuine giggle. “That’s the impossible part?”
He grinned, sliding his arm over the seat behind me. “Okay, no more for now. From now until tomorrow night, we’re just two seniors enjoying Thanksgiving break. No more talk of prophecies, or mad scientists, or evil immortals.”
“Deal.”
“If I have a nightmare tonight, I’ll tell you about it on the plane to Russia… fifty-seven years ago.”
I smirked, nodding and leaning against his shoulder. “Deal again.”
“And… since you’re being so agreeable… my mother would like to teach you how to make her famous cranberry sauce, so that you will pass the recipe on to her grandchild.”
I exhaled through my pursed lips, wincing. “Come on, Rush. That stuff is so disgusting.”
“Deal?” He prodded my shoulder with his elbow as he turned onto our road.
“Ugh. Deal,” I agreed, sighing. “Maybe if I pretend I’m really into it, she won’t notice the hole that I kicked in the wall.”
He chuckled. “Too late. But you won the sympathy card. Apparently, my mom threw a lamp at a wall when she was pregnant with me.”
Laughing, I unbuckled myself as he pulled into my driveway. The lights were off, and Morgan’s car was gone, so I assumed she and Jason were still shopping. I hoped my dad’s car was in the garage. Logan turned the headlights off, darkening the car.
He caught my mouth while it was still open in a smile, sliding his fingers though my hair. I gasped into his kiss, struggling to back away. He followed me as I moved, pinning me between the window and his body.
“We could have a normal life, Cam,” he murmured against my lips. “I’ll never stop protecting you, or the baby. It’ll be our baby. Please just let him go.”
Tears streamed from my closed eyes before I realized that I was crying. Responding to his kiss was so tempting. He was familiar, and warm, and everything about him made me feel like home.
Flattening my palm against his chest, I pushed against him. “You can’t protect me all the way from Parris Island, or Camp Lejeune… or Afghanistan,” I said disgustedly. “As long as Troy lives, no matter where he is, I’ll never be safe.”
He locked his eyes on mine, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “I won’t go. I won’t enlist if you just stay with me.”
His words were crushing against my lungs. I struggled to keep my heartbeat even. “You’d stay for me?”
“Yes.”
I thought about what he was saying, what he was offering, closing my eyes.
Does it change anything?
Sighing, I finally focused on his handsome face again.
No… I love West.
It will always be West.
“I can’t ask that of you,” I said finally.
“You don’t have to ask.”
I looked down, brushing away the tear that slid down my cheek. “Logan… give me some time.” My betraying words dishonored West in every way, and I cringed, gripping my purse. “Let me think,” I begged.
He nodded, brushing his hand over my hair once more before climbing out of the car. Walking around the front, he opened the door for me. I took his outstretched hand, letting him help me to my feet in the driveway. “Do you want me to come in for a while?”
His words were heavy with silent questions.
Can I hold you? Kiss you?
Be there for you in every way West can’t?
I shook my head. “It’s really late, and I’m so tired. Is it okay if I just see you tomorrow?”
“I don’t want you to be alone.” He gestured to the house. “I don’t think your dad is home yet.”
“If you come in… I’m just going to sleep, Logan, okay?”
He pressed the button on his keys to lock his car, the brief beeping sound indicating that the Camry was secure.
“I promise not to kiss you again without asking.”
I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Thank you.”
He held me for a moment before leading me to the front door. “I’m going to check some things out online for a while and try to prepare for 1955. When your dad gets home, or Morgan, I’ll leave.”
I opened the front door with my keys. He followed me in, locking the deadbolt behind him. “Dad?” I called, hoping he’d gotten a ride home and left his car at the VFW.
Logan checked the upstairs, basement, and garage thoroughly. “He’s not here. What’s wrong with your garage door?”
“It’s broken. Hold on, I’ll text him,” I said, typing quickly and asking him to please call if he needed a ride.
Logan nodded. “Go upstairs and go to bed. I’ll just hang out down here.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, moving exhaustedly to the stairs.
“I’m sure.” He crossed the room to the bottom of the stairs, gazing down at me. His dark, curly hair fell in boyish waves against his forehead. “Permission to kiss you, Miss Camden?”
I sighed, tired but amused at his playful tone. “Granted. PG only,” I warned, tapping my cheek with my index finger.
He pressed his lips to my jaw, just next to my ear. I shivered, his warm breath tickling my neck. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, kissing softly.
“Okay,” I replied in a sigh, thankful for his company. “Night, Rush.”
Once in my bedroom, I walked directly to West’s suitcase and pulled a folded, white dress shirt from the bag. Pressing the material to my nose in-between movements, I managed to remove my clothes and slip his buttoned shirt over my head without crying.
His scent numbed my quickening thoughts. I was asleep before my cheek touched the pillow.
. . .
“…just want her to get some rest.”
“You’re not hearing me, Logan. Wake her up.”
I stirred at the voices outside my bedroom door, confused. My phone wasn’t on my nightstand where I normally kept it. What time is it?
I moved and sat up, disoriented. Who’s talking?
Through the window facing the driveway I could see that it was light outside. I separated two slats of the blinds, blinking at the brightness. Fresh, white snow blanketed the grass and road, and judging by the mailboxes, the accumulation was at least a foot deep. A plow truck rumbled by, spraying the end of the driveway with blackened slush.
At that moment, I saw the bumper of the black SUV parked close to the garage door. Struggling for coherent thoughts, I turned and ran to my door.
His Pilot. Is he here? West is here?
“Cam?” Logan stood at the foot of the stairs next to a blond girl talking energetically with her hands.
Her long curls bounced my way, and she crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. “Morning, sunshine,” she quipped, nodding her head my way, up the stairs. “Congratulations.”
I covered my stomach, suddenly realizing that I wore only West’s dress shirt and my panties. Backing toward my door, I looked between both of them. “Violet?”
West’s seventeen-year-old daughter was almost as tall as Logan. Her dark, blue eyes, so like West’s, pierced mine. “So, you were just going to go without me. I thought we had an understanding.” Her boots were leaving crushed, wet rings on the carpet, and I resisted the urge to tell her to take them off.
“Logan said that he hadn’t heard from you-”
“After Russia, I didn’t think there was any need for friendly phone calls. We all want Troy dead, and I want my mom back, so cut the crap. You should have called me.”
Caught off guard, I tugged on the hem of his over-sized dress shirt self-consciously. Her too-tight j
eans were snug on her thighs and disappeared into her fur lined boots. Her jacket, shimmering silver, gave her an otherworldly air. She was sexy, with the kind of almost-eighteen-year-old body that I long ago realized I’d never have. Nothing about her curves would have anyone guessing that she was still in high school.
I lifted my chin, straightening my shoulders. Ignoring her, I turned to Logan. “Is Dad home?”
“He’s in his bedroom.” He said nothing more, and that was enough to convey that my dad had, in fact, been drinking well into the night.
“I’m going to get showered and dressed,” I told Violet. “We plan to leave tomorrow morning.”
“Well, I plan to leave today,” she snapped. “I don’t need to wait for you, I just need your key.” She nodded toward my arm, my numbers standing out against the bright white shirt.
I covered my arm with my palm. “We need to prepare.”
“Fine, you two prepare, just give me a ride through the fountain. I’ll see you in 1955.”
“Ladies.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Really? What’s with the hostility? We’re on the same team.”
“We need to stay together,” I said, gentling my voice and turning to Violet. “Please just work with us here. Did Logan tell you about going back to Russia once we get to 1955?”
Violet cocked her head to the side slightly. “He told me. I think you’re going for the wrong reasons.”
I stepped back, narrowing my eyes. “You do?”
“You’re looking for…West.” She said his name almost disgustedly. “You want rainbows and a happily-ever-after. Though I’m not his biggest fan, he did sacrifice his life for you to be safe here.”
“I know that,” I fired.
She dropped her hands to her hips. “I’m going to find the other doors. I’ve been preparing for months for Troy. I won’t go down without a fight.”
“But you’ll go down.” I steadied my words, looking at her evenly. “He will kill you.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see.”
I looked at Logan. He watched me intently, his eyes moving from my shoulders to my feet. “Maybe you should change.”
His assessment made my heart thud. The smile in his words was gone. He was angry that I’d put West’s shirt on, that much was clear.
I nodded, retreating to my bedroom and locking the door.
Violet was driven to find her mother, and to kill Troy. She’ll be useful, I told myself sternly. Take her with you.
My stomach turned.
But Troy had killed me.
I was the one in that pool.
I will be the one to kill Troy.
Chapter Seven
“Where do you buy raspberry vinegar?” I asked Mrs. Rush as she peeled an orange. She laughed lightly, patting my shoulder.
“Anywhere, sweetie. I’ll teach you how to cook if it’s the last thing I do.” She brushed her hand against her apron, wagging a finger in my direction.
I smiled. Thanksgiving at the Rush house was more comfortable than I had expected. The turkey in the oven sent my appetite into growling fits of anticipation. I covered my middle in embarrassment as another grumble sounded, loud enough for Mrs. Rush to hear.
“You can’t wait, Roamie, you’re eating for two,” she chided, moving toward the bread bowl on the table. “Please eat a roll while it cooks.”
Logan sauntered into the kitchen from behind me, slipping his arm around my waist as he stole a cookie from a decorative tray on the counter. “I like this dress. You look like an angel.”
I straightened rigidly, covering his hand with mine. My dress was a short, cream colored sweater material with a cowl neck, and the clinging fabric clearly defined my rounded abdomen. The hem touched the back of my legs, just above my knees. “Far from,” I said, under my breath. He squeezed me reassuringly before letting me go.
Violet waited at West’s house for us after a heated conversation that ended in me handing her the keys. Logan felt that we needed to invite her to dinner, but I insisted that she’d raise too many questions with both of our families, especially given their ‘family only’ rule. She insisted she didn’t want to go, anyway.
Dinner began with Mr. Rush complimenting me on my cranberry sauce, so I decided that we were off to a good start.
Near dessert, the inquisition began, and I gently set my fork down on the table and counted the moments until I could excuse myself.
Mr. Rush cleared his throat and began. “So, Logan tells us that he may not join the Marines if you two get back together. You know my views, so I’m hoping that you two are working out your issues.”
I glared at Logan.
Logan rolled his eyes, focusing on his plate. Mr. Rush hated that his only child had decided to join the military. He was a baseball fanatic, and constantly encouraged Logan to think of playing for the minor leagues.
“That’s a lot of pressure,” I breathed with a nervous laugh. “Ultimately Logan’s future is… up to Logan.”
“Well, not anymore, right?” He gestured to the general area below my chin. “Now it’s up to my grandson or granddaughter.”
I lowered my eyes, tracing my fingers along the edge of the tablecloth. “Okay.”
“I suggest,” he began, clearing his throat again and taking a swig of water before continuing. “That we take the initiative here. Carol and I would like to offer you thirty thousand dollars for the wedding, and a ten percent down payment on a house.”
Logan nearly jumped out of his chair, balling his fists angrily. “Dad, you told me you wouldn’t-”
Robert held his palm up. “Hold on. Let’s hear what Roamie has to say.”
I sighed, keeping my eyes cast downward. “I don’t generally accept marriage proposals from my boyfriend’s parents.”
Robert smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. His clear, brown eyes twinkled when I met them. “At least he’s your boyfriend again. We’re moving in the right direction.”
Realizing my slip, I looked at Logan, exasperated. He grinned, shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth.
“Mr. Rush.” I turned to Carol. “Mrs. Rush, I’ve known you both all of my life. I love you both. You’re very generous. You have to know that no matter what happens… I have to think about what’s best for the baby.”
“A fabulous wedding sounds like a great start.” Carol smiled, reaching for my hand, and I let her squeeze my fingers. “And we love you too, sweetie.”
Wedding? I looked at Logan helplessly. “I don’t-”
“We could be here for you, to help with the baby, and hire a nanny,” she continued, reaching for her wine glass. “And you could go to college. It’s not too late.”
Selfish did not begin to describe my next thought process. I imagined dancing with Logan at our wedding reception, with Mr. and Mrs. Rush dancing beside us, smiling proudly. I thought of our first house with a white, picket fence, a grand kitchen, and a nursery…
And I saw our baby cradled lovingly in Logan’s arms.
West’s baby.
I suddenly pictured West’s face, and jerked back to reality, mortified.
“I’m sorry, please excuse me,” I breathed, sliding the chair back and barely making it to the downstairs bathroom before gasping. The tears rolled down my cheeks, and I dabbed at them with toilet paper, fighting for control.
After a few moments, I heard Logan’s voice outside the door. “Roam.” He knocked softly. “I’m so sorry. My parents were out of line. Can I come in?”
“Wait,” I whispered, sniffing, trying to wipe away the mascara trails on my cheeks. When I opened the door, he moved into the small space, closing the door behind him.
“I know that was too much, I’m sorry. I’ve heard it all for months, so I guess I’m used to it,” he apologized.
“For months. Months? It’s been two days since we started speaking again.”
He shrugged. “We’re best friends. Time doesn’t matter.”
I narrowed my eyes pleadingly at him. “But cir
cumstances do. I was alone, so alone, and I’ve had the hardest time since my mom…”
My voice broke. I couldn’t go on. I couldn’t berate him for not being there for me after what I’d done to him.
He cupped my face in his hands, locking eyes with me. “We’ll find him.”
I took a deep breath, searching his familiar eyes. Finally, bravely, I forced the words that I wanted to say between us.
“I don’t know if you want to find him, Logan.”
He took a step toward me, and I flattened against the wall between the toilet and the shower, my eyes locked in his.
“I don’t know if I do, either.”
The hum of the exhaust fan masked my erratic breathing. His mouth lingered near mine, his hands diving into my hair from the back of my neck.
“Will you kiss me?” he urged.
I shook my head, trying to move away, but he followed. “No. I can’t.”
“Please.” His fingertips traced the line of my jaw, and involuntarily I leaned against his touch, closing my eyes.
“No,” I repeated, my airy words betraying my body’s natural reaction to Logan’s hands. He ran his fingers along my arms, stopping at my wrists.
“You want to.”
Trying to swallow, my throat resisted. “Stop it, Rush,” I pleaded.
He tugged me to him suddenly, forcing his lips on mine. I cried into his mouth, bracing my hands on his chest. Crushed between him and the bathroom wall, I had nowhere to move but into him.
I want to move into him.
The realization was devastating. I fought the way that my body remembered being touched, and kissed, and adored. I resisted the need to be held, to be wanted and cared for.
He didn’t feel the same as West.
He will never compare to West.
“I can’t do this to him,” I cried against his mouth, trying to pull away.
“You did this to me,” he rowed, his hands tightening on my arms.
A knock startled us both. “Are you okay, sweetie?” It was Carol, through the door.
“Yes,” I called, my voice wavering. I slipped out of Logan’s grasp, reaching for the door. He stopped me, grabbing my hand. “Logan-”
“Tell me that you love me, too.” His voice strained, and every part of his eyes told me that he needed me to respond.
Fall (Roam Series, Book Two) Page 6
