Sinner-Saint Box Set (Sinner-Saint Series)

by Roxie Odell

  “Who is Gretchen?” he asked, looking at her scoldingly, his words sharp and his voice the furthest thing from seductive, which it should have been, considering the lovers had been apart for a week.

  She lived only a block from him, so in the time it took to have a small conversation they had arrived. He stopped the truck in front of her house, still staring at her and awaiting an answer.

  Cheri didn’t know what to say to him about her Gretchen story. She just wanted to hop out of the truck and run inside her dilapidated house, but Thomas obviously knew she was trying to evade him and hustled to catch her as she dashed for the door. She tried to turn the key in the lock, but he put his hand on the door, boxing her in with his undeniably amazing body, making it clear that she wasn’t going anywhere until he had an answer. Her throat went bone dry, though, and she couldn’t utter a word.

  “Tell me again. What exactly were you doing at my place, and who is Gretchen?” he demanded.

  “I just… Well, I…”

  “Tell me you didn’t see Marla and think something was up, that I had another woman over.”

  Caught like a helpless mouse in a trap, she remained silent.

  “Answer me, Cheri,” he said softly.

  “What if I say yes?” she huffed, clearly more annoyed with herself than the woman at his house. “For your information, I’ve also had a hellish week, and you’re not gonna like it when I tell you about it.”

  “What happened?” he asked with genuine concern.

  “I needed you, so I stopped by your house. I guess I should’ve just told her who I am, but I didn’t know she was your cousin, or I would have…” Her voice trailed off, refusing to work anymore as her eye caught a glimpse of the giant blue tarp draping her roof.

  “I made a promise to you,” he said, “and I plan to keep it. I admit I was, uh…less than honest with you in the past, but this nonsense isn’t really all that honest either.”

  “I know,” she said. “I apologize to you and your cousin. I’ve officially made things weird.”

  He shook his head. “No, I did that. I scared you, and scared people act out in different ways.”

  Cheri could literally feel it when the light bulb went on in Thomas’s head. She didn’t have to ask what was bothering him when he suddenly stopped talking and took a step back to the middle of the walkway, staring up at the shattered roof.

  “For fuck’s sake!” he cursed. “This just keeps getting better and better. I gotta see inside.”

  “No,” she said, doing her best to body-block him with her much smaller frame.

  He raised his eyebrows, his eyes flaring at her.

  “It’s probably not safe.”

  “So? Tell me you haven’t been bunking here while this douchebag did this to your house,” he challenged.

  Again, she was silent.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, with all the control he could muster. “How bad is it?”

  “I’m not sure. I just know it’s, uh…not good.”

  “Let’s go,” Thomas said, finally lifting her layer of denial about the house.

  “No, Thomas. No,” she rasped, fighting back the tears of humility that flooded her eyes, begging for release.

  “Yes, Cheri. You need to start listening to me. I’m just gonna eyeball it, and then you’re coming to my house. You can’t stay here. This is horrible.” He shook his head.

  “I can’t,” she said. “I don’t have the nerve to face your cousin. Besides, I think we can both use a real break from…well, everything. I can just go to a hotel.”

  “Let’s not do this again.”

  “What?”

  “You should have let me help you in the first place, and we have to stop letting fear get in the way of communication. If you have a question, just ask me. I promise I’ll tell you.”

  Cheri nodded. She felt kind of blasted, but the last thing she wanted was to engage in a full-blown argument with him. She had the presence of mind to take a step back and decided that if she still felt like speaking her peace later when she was calm and clear-headed, she would.

  “Let’s go inside. I gotta see this,” he said very decisively, then turned her doorknob and pushed forward, so they could both check out the disaster zone together.

  Chapter 11

  All the great contractors swear now and then. It can’t be that bad, right? Cheri told herself, because after he laid eyes on the shabby workmanship Titus Home Repairs performed on her house, he uttered every four-letter word she’d ever heard and even made up a few of his own.

  “Holy shit!” he ranted. “I ought to go find that jackass and make him fix this shit right now. What’s his phone number? Weren’t you keeping an eye on him? What the hell happened, Cheri?”

  “I couldn’t watch him while I was at work,” she said meekly.

  “He’s practically ripped off your whole fucking roof!”

  “Would you mind limiting the use of the f-word please?” she reprimanded. “You sound like Chef Ramsay with Tourette’s!”

  “Yeah, no problem,” he said, glaring at her. “He may not be able to just put the pieces back together, sweetheart. You might need major reconstruction. Did this even match his estimate? Did he bother to give you a scope of work?”

  Cheri blinked. “A what?”

  “A plan to show you what he intended to do and for how much. Did he give you that?” Thomas rephrased.

  “He gave me an estimate.”

  “Send it to me and do not—I repeat, do not—pay that man a single penny.”

  She already had and didn’t want to tell him, but her silence gave her secret away.

  Thomas braced his thighs and stooped down to her height. “You paid him?” he said, struggling to stay calm through his panic. “How? By check, credit card, or what?”

  “Check,” she answered.

  He grabbed her head and planted a hard kiss on top of it. “Good girl. The shithead probably already cashed it, but it’s worth a try. Call the bank right this minute and stop payment. I’ll have my crew on this job first thing tomorrow. We’ll do a take-off on the damage done, a take-off on what the original work would have been.”

  “But you didn’t inspect the situation. How do you know he wasn’t right in taking the thing apart?”

  Thomas glared at roof and continued, “Then we’ll estimate repairs. That way, if this motherfucker is insured, you’ll have a claim. Worst-case scenario for him, he’ll go to jail for fucking with your house without a license.”

  “Will you stop with all the fucks?” she asked with a sigh.

  He braced the small of her back. “Only if you promise you won’t,” he said, levering his eyebrows.

  “Not funny,” she said, then broke down. In that moment, despite his joke or perhaps because of it, she dropped her head, wishing for a little privacy so she could enjoy a good, therapeutic cry.

  He pulled her to him and was sincere again. “I’m sorry if I’m being too harsh. It’s just one thing after the other. I promise after I get this all situated, we’ll have a long talk about where I went this week. I’m just not emotionally able to handle it right now.”

  “What the hell, Thomas?” she asked, giving him a shove. “You’re involved with my daily life, examining my home, yet your life is off limits to me?”

  “That’s not what I mean,” he said. “Please, Cheri, I’m begging you. Besides, this business with your house is far more pressing, more serious. You literally don’t have a roof over your head.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep back the tears. She didn’t like him yelling at her, and she also didn’t appreciate being treated like a little girl. “He’s fixing the leak and all the damage it did,” Cheri answered defensively, bracing her arms in front of her chest tensely.

  “I told you it was a flange in need of a seal, and that was all it was,” he said, glaring at her. “Now you’ve got a whole set of expensive shit to fix, and I’m sure he
likes it that way.”

  Cheri glared right back at him. “Honestly, Thomas, I don’t care what you told me. I’m more concerned about what you aren’t telling me. Where were you?” she demanded.

  “Like I said,” he spat, fuming, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready. Now is not the time.”

  “You’re acting the same way you did when you refused to tell me your name,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I honestly don’t have the energy to argue with you. Most days I love our hot and cold moments. Now is not one of them. Please go get your clothes. You can’t stay here.”

  “I’ve been sleeping here,” she said, “and I’ve lived to tell about it. I’m fine.”

  “Cheri, this is a very old house, and that scam artist has opened a huge can of worms here. It has to be inspected for a hundred different things to make sure it’s livable—not to mention that you’ll be good and screwed the next time it rains. You might as well start filing insurance claims now.”

  “You’re just jealous,” she replied, keenly aware of how immature it sounded. She had officially taken it down to a kindergarten level, and he was quick to let her know it.

  “No, I’m not. I’m tired,” he said flatly. “Tomorrow, in the daylight, I’ll do a full walkthrough. How much did the guy gouge you for anyway?”

  “I can’t go back to your house with your cousin there, not after I made such an ass of myself,” she said. “My company gets a corporate discount at Four Seasons. I’ll go there.” With that, she made her way precariously through the tarps and drop cloths, buckets, tools, and construction dust to gather a few clothes.

  “So I have your permission to handle this?” he asked in his deep, rich voice, right on her heels.

  “Yes, please do,” she answered wearily, “and you can keep your fucks to yourself in the process.”

  Chapter 12

  Thomas was right behind Cheri as she gathered her things the next morning. Truthfully, she was glad he was there, because entering the house by herself made her nervous. Still, she pretended like she didn’t want him hovering. “I don’t need a shadow,” she spouted off.

  “I got what you need,” he replied with a bite.

  She kept her mouth shut so she didn’t do any more damage than was already done between them. She randomly threw stuff in a bag, unable to focus on the task at hand, hating what was happening between the two of them

  Meanwhile Thomas did the same, struggling to mute his cursing as he veered off from her to go inspect the contractor’s shoddy work.

  As soon as she was packed, they loaded up to go to the Four Seasons. It was evident they weren’t heading there for any sort of honeymoon. Despite their recent break, they both seemed to need another one, and yet she didn’t want to share a hotel room with him. She’d had enough of him for one night, and she was looking forward to some much-needed alone time to clear her head.

  True to form, though, Thomas wouldn’t take the hint. In Thomas style, he was by her side as she checked in, and he insisted on seeing her to her room, as if she needed a bodyguard.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him.

  “I know you are,” he said with such seriousness. “I want to talk to you.”

  Cheri quaked inside. Is this it? She feared that somewhere between showing up to his place unannounced, mistrusting him, on top of the arguing, she had crossed his line in the sand. He had the look of a battered man, and he was fed up. The anger she’d been feeling because of the house had been directed at him. Now she felt like an idiot. What had she done? Why did she have to be so miserable and bitchy all the time?

  He set her bag down, then sat her down on the corner of her super-king-sized bed. He pulled the chair over from the desk, sat down, and began, “First, I’m sorry I left without explaining myself. I see now that it really screwed with your head, and I apologize.”

  His tone seemed to harbor a lot of implied emotion, but it still wasn’t a good enough excuse for Cheri. “Go on,” she said, feeling she deserved to know far more and scared of what he was going to say.

  “I told you about my father briefly once before. Our relationship was rocky at best,” he said, releasing a heavy sigh. “I got a call right after I dropped you off at work that morning. Dad had a stroke.”

  Cheri wilted. Of all the possible reasons she had concocted in her worried head as to why he had done a disappearing act, that wasn’t even one of the scenarios she’d played out in her mind. Every one she thought of involved her somehow, and all along, she’d allowed herself to doubt he cared about her, to worry that he had moved on, that he’d found someone more attractive than her. “What happened?” she asked quietly, angry with herself for not giving Thomas the benefit of the doubt.

  “Just one of those things,” he replied. “High blood pressure runs in the family. I’ve been scrambling to care for him, trying to deal with my guilt over our, uh…issues. I can’t help worrying he might die before I tie up the loose ends, say all that needs to be said. Plus, even if I do get a chance to communicate all that to him, will he even understand me?” he said and hung his head.

  Cheri was instantly consumed with guilt and remorse. He hadn’t been able to take a break at all, because the very second he pulled up to his house, she was standing there, and he’d been in knight-in-shining-armor mode ever since. She tried to touch his arm, but he pulled away.

  “I don’t do tenderness very well, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I operate better as a loner. I like the company of women, but I guess you learned that the hard way,” he said.

  She wrinkled her brow in confusion and bit her lip. Is he about to make a confession, explaining himself, or just about to say goodbye? Whatever he was up to, there didn’t seem to be any good feelings between them now. Terror twisted her gut as she came to the realization that he may have very well sought comfort with someone other than her. “You didn’t, uh… go meet some girl…” she heard herself ask lamely.

  “No, Cheri, I didn’t.” He took her hand reassuringly. “I just dropped out for a while, to focus on my dad. I know I cut you off when you needed me most, and—”

  “No,” said Cheri plainly. “If I had never met you, I would’ve had to find my way. You’re not my caretaker, Thomas. That’s not your role. I appreciate everything you do for me. I just… need you in other ways.”

  “I like doing it,” he said. “I just need some space right now. Clear my head. Clear the past. All the crap.”

  Cheri was crushed. His words hurt as much as any confession would. She felt like she was being kicked to the curb, and she wasn’t ready for that. She scooted back on the bed some, as if pushed back by the force of what he had said, then gave him a nod, as if she understood.

  “That came out wrong,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I do need space, but I also need you. I just need some time alone, to figure all this out. Can you be patient with me, Cheri?”

  “Yes,” she answered plainly again, but she certainly didn’t mean it. She was suddenly very needy, feeling clingier than ever before, but she didn’t want to admit it to him.

  “I asked my cousin to house-sit while I was gone. I should have asked you, and I don’t know why I didn’t, but I guess I’ve just been trying to be with family during this time. Like I said, I just fell back into what I know. There was no time to do things differently,” he said. “I should have clued you in from the start. I—”

  “It’s fine, Thomas,” she replied numbly. “I freaked out when I shouldn’t have, assumed the worst when I didn’t know what was really going on. I do that a lot. Yes, it hurts to hear you say you need time and space. I can’t tell you that it doesn’t. I wish I could be more mature or… I don’t know what I need to be, but what you said makes perfect sense. Go do what you need to do. Take as much time as you need. I have a lot to keep me busy.”

  “Thanks for understanding,” he said, then stood up and looked around awkwardly. “I guess I’ll take off then. J
ust remember that your wannabe contractor’s gonna pay for everything, whether Tight-Ass Home Repairs likes it or not.”

  “But I already gave him that check,” she argued.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get it back if I have to squeeze every last penny out of him.”

  It was the last thing he said before he left her without even so much as a kiss goodbye. In fact, in the one instance of physical contact, he pulled away, and Cheri found herself doing the same.

  Chapter 13

  The D.C. weather quickly went from uncomfortably hot to brisk, a clear sign that fall was definitely heading Cheri’s way. She no longer felt wishy-washy and indecisive about the state of her life. Instead, she resolved to do precisely what Thomas suggested and contact her insurance company to give them a heads-up. She just wanted her house back together so she could chill in it. She could relax there, at home, and hopefully move beyond all the horrible emotions and confusion she was feeling.

  By noon the next day, she had received an email from Thomas’s company, with a very businesslike estimate of what it would take to put her house back together. They also sent a separate estimate, to give her an idea of what it would have cost if she had listened to him in the first place. Gee, doesn’t he like to rub it in? she thought as she stared at the wide gap in the numbers. She was more than a little miffed that he didn’t even bother to send the estimate himself; rather, it came from someone named Todd.

  Cheri took a cab to her place at lunchtime and found Mr. Titus there with a small, pathetic-looking crew, picking up the pieces they’d removed. His operation came nowhere close to the professional, hardworking group of men Thomas employed.

  “What the hell did you do?” Wayne Titus asked, glaring at her, without one trace of happy-go-lucky handyman in his voice.

  “Pardon me?” she asked, thrown by his harsh tone. “I’m just here to check your progress, which I have every right to do in my own home. Is that a problem?”