by Mary Frame
What will Tabby think?
What will Jared think?
My stomach twists.
Sick of lying in bed with my tumbling thoughts and increasing anxiety, I slip out the door and onto the patio. The porch lights are off, but the pool lights are on, casting a wavering, bluish glow into the cool night. I pad over to the water and sit on the edge, slipping my bare feet in. The water is bathwater warm and soothing. I take a deep breath and shut my eyes.
“Can’t sleep?” a voice says.
I twist around.
Jared is walking out of the kitchen door. His swim trunks hang low on his hips and he has a towel thrown over his shoulder.
“You too?”
He tosses the towel onto one of the lounge chairs and stops next to me. Even his feet are well formed. His toes are clean and straight. My eyes linger on them before moving up to his strong calves. I force my gaze to the water in front of me. You know you have a problem when even someone’s feet are attractive.
“Sometimes I can’t shut my brain off, you know?” he says.
“Yeah. I get that.” So much.
“Swimming helps wear me out.”
I nod.
“You want to try it? You haven’t gone in since you and Paige got here.”
“Oh, I can’t swim.”
His lips tilt downward and he sits on the side of the pool, sticking his feet in the water next to mine. He kicks slightly, making small waves ripple out.
“You can’t swim at all?”
“No. The water freaks me out a little, actually.”
“Why?”
“Just, you know, random phobia.” I laugh it off, but the sound is brittle.
He doesn’t press. His head tilts back as he regards me with those dark eyes. “I can teach you to swim, if you want.”
“What? No.”
“You know the best way to get over something you’re afraid of is to confront it head on.” He grins ruefully. “But that’s easier said than done.”
“Are you afraid of anything?” I ask.
Instead of answering, he slides down into the pool and then turns to face me.
We’re on the shallow side. The water comes up to his waist.
He steps in between my legs, one hand on either side of me, so close his thumbs brush my outer thighs.
“I’m afraid of a lot of things,” he says, his voice low. “But understanding why you fear something is half the battle.” Then he pushes away from the wall.
I watch him swim back and forth across the pool a couple of times. He makes it look so easy, his arms slicing through the water like he’s moving through silk. I haven’t been in a pool since Mom pushed me in. It angers me that they’re the cause of my anxiety. I’m sick of letting them control me. I’m sick of not having a real life because of them. I’m sick of not being able to play around in the pool with Paige because of them. I don’t want them to have any power over me, not anymore.
It takes me a minute to gather my courage. I don’t own a swimsuit, but I have a sports bra under my tank top and underwear under my shorts and it’s basically the same thing, right?
I pull off my top, stand up to shimmy out of my shorts, and then I get in a pool for the first time since I was sixteen. For a few minutes, I stand there in the shallow end, arms crossed and gripping my elbows, just practicing breathing without letting panic grip me.
Once Jared realizes I’ve entered the water with him, he stops swimming laps, and with two strong strokes he’s standing in front of me.
My terror must be showing on my face because he asks, “Are you okay?”
Standing rigidly still, I manage to bob my head once.
“Come on.” He holds out a hand.
I stare at it like it might bite me.
He laughs. “Ruby, seriously. I won’t let go of you. I promise.”
“I’m not so sure about this. I think I’ll stand here for a while. You go back to swimming your laps.” I wave a hand at him.
“We’ll start slow.” He moves closer despite me waving him away. “No swimming or anything, we’ll just go in a little deeper.”
“I’m not going to the deep end,” I warn him. My eyes are still on his hands as he approaches me slowly, like I’m a spooked horse.
“I won’t take you there until you’re ready,” he says. “And I’ll be holding on to you the whole time. I promise I won’t let go. Do you trust me?”
I meet his eyes, steady and unwavering on mine. Then I nod.
With the uncanny sensation that I’m stepping off a precipice into a void, I reach out and take his hand.
He talks to me. I don’t register all of the words, but his voice is low and soothing and he rambles on while guiding me a little deeper, where the water hits just under my ribcage.
He’s gentle and encouraging, his hands always on me, making me safe even when I finally agree and he takes me into the deeper water where I can’t quite reach.
“Look at me,” he says when my breathing increases and I start to panic. “Keep your eyes on me, I won’t let you go. See? I can stand here.”
I listen to his voice, which he keeps low and steady. I keep my gaze fixed on his.
The longer I watch him, the more the panic subsides and I nearly forget I’m in six feet of water.
After a while, he teaches me how to float on my back—while he holds me up—and doesn’t get irritated when it takes me multiple attempts to even be somewhat comfortable with my ears in the water.
I’m so nervous about being in the pool, I don’t even realize until quite some time has passed that his hands are all over me—not in any kind of lewd way—just there, holding me up, sure and strong on my back, my stomach, gripping my waist with tender hands.
Finally, he lets me go and I float on my back for ten whole seconds before I get super excited, flail, and end up underwater.
Jared is there right away, lifting me up. “Are you okay?”
I wipe my face with my hands before opening my eyes to his concerned expression. I can’t stop grinning. “Did you see that? I floated by myself.”
His head tilts back and he laughs. “I saw it.”
I shake my head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m like an infant.”
“No. You’re not. You’re very brave. Most people who are afraid of the water wouldn’t bother trying at all.” His voice is laced with humor and something else. Something a little deeper.
“Will you keep teaching me? When Paige isn’t around? I want to surprise her.” I smile, thinking about it. She will freak out when she realizes I learned to swim. She always wants me to go in the pool with her, but she knows better than to ask.
“Of course.” His hands flex against the skin of my stomach.
The movement makes me suddenly aware of our positions. He’s holding me around the waist. He’s tall enough to be standing on his flat feet, the water up to his shoulders. My hands are on said shoulders, the same ones I’ve been admiring every time he wears that damn tank top.
Without thinking too much about it, I pull myself closer to him. My legs slide through the water and wrap around his waist like it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world.
His hands tighten around me, holding my thighs. He’s not smiling anymore. His eyes are dark and intent, his jaw taut.
I stare at his lips. We move toward each other at the same moment, our mouths meeting in a soft press of flesh.
His arms are rigid under my hands for a few seconds before he relaxes. Then his fingers slide up my back, one hand cupping the back of my head, angling us closer. His other hand is wrapped around my waist, holding me to him.
Nothing exists except me and Jared and the gentle lap of the water heating between us. His mouth and tongue become more insistent and my body responds like a firecracker, heat rushing to my core, making my movements frantic, my hands clutching him to me like he’s the only thing that exists.
I didn’t exactly have the time or the inclination for boyfriends growing up. I lost
my virginity to a guy I barely knew in the back of a Volkswagen when I was sixteen. It was my way of taking control and forgetting about my life for a few brief, and I mean brief, moments. It was terrible, painful, and awkward.
This is so far from that, we might as well be in a different galaxy. The heat between us burns, my body about to incinerate, and then he’s moving, carrying me up the steps of the pool, my legs still around his waist, his hands gripping my upper thighs. He lays me down on the wide chaise lounge. He’s halfway on top of me, still kissing me, but his mouth is now moving down my neck. The air is cold against my wet skin but every part of us that touches is hot.
When he nibbles on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, I moan.
“Ruby,” his breath whispers against my skin.
The word shatters the intensity between us, dropping like a harsh lie shouted into a bed of whispered truths.
That’s not my name.
He notices my sudden tension and peers at my face. “Are you okay?” He pushes a wet strand of hair out of my face and behind my ear.
I nod, but the damage is done.
His eyes search my face in the dim light.
“You know you can trust me, right?”
I nod again.
“No, really. You can trust me. With anything.”
“Yes,” I say.
I don’t mean it. I may have meant it in the pool. I know he wouldn’t let me drown. But when it comes to the truth of my identity and my past, when it comes to keeping Paige and not losing her to the system, or worse, to the parents . . . I don’t trust anyone.
There are some things worse than drowning.
He knows I’m lying, I can see it in the tight line of his jaw and the confusion in his eyes. But he doesn’t get angry. I don’t think he ever gets angry. He nods, presses his lips against my forehead once, and then pulls back again.
There’s something in his eyes that I can’t quite process. Tenderness, affection, compassion, understanding . . .
He feels like home.
The thought is terrifying.
As if he can read the fear in my eyes, he stands and helps me up, wrapping me in his towel and walking me to the door leading to my room.
He kisses me once, a brief touch of his lips to mine. There’s a whispered good night and then he’s gone.
The last thirty minutes are like a dream.
I rinse off in the spare bathroom, get into dry clothes, and crawl into bed, exhausted.
What am I doing? What was I thinking, kissing Jared like that? It’s not fair to lead him on when I’m only here for two more weeks.
He doesn’t even know my real name.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The next morning I expect there to be strain between me and Jared, some awkwardness to add to the icing on the crappy cake of my life, but there isn’t.
After I wake up Paige, I find him in the kitchen. He smiles at me, a real smile that lights up his eyes and makes my insides flutter like curtains in the breeze.
He makes breakfast while I put together lunch for Paige, just like every other morning. We chat like nothing happened. Like it’s any other day and I didn’t practically hump him in the pool less than twelve hours ago.
I don’t think about his hands gripping my ass when he carried me out of the pool while we talk about how he can give me a ride to the shop on his way to work. I don’t think about his hot breath on my neck when we go over our plans to check out the castle at the cove tonight after we take Paige to Naomi’s. And I definitely don’t think about the slick texture of his skin beneath my hands, the hardness of his chest when it pressed against mine while we’re dropping Paige off at the bus stop.
My non-thoughts are making me a bit heated.
To cool myself down, I decide to tell him funny stories about Paige as we’re driving into town.
“She was obsessed with super heroes,” I tell him. “She made me call her Iron Man. Seriously, I would say, ‘Paige put your shoes on,’ and she would say, ‘I’m not Paige. I’m Iron Man.’ ” I pitch my voice higher, like a little girl’s.
He laughs and then grabs one of my hands, pressing his lips to the back of my fingers before releasing me. The movement is so brief and natural, I can almost deny the entire thing even happened.
I’m still sitting there, speechless, when we pull up in front of the shop.
“I’ll pick you up at four.” He smiles at me like he didn’t pull the rug out from under me with one quick and tender action.
I stare at him while my brain malfunctions. “Okay,” I say finally, climbing out of the patrol car.
“Call me if you need anything.”
I nod and watch him pull away.
He’s dangerous. I need to get a grip on myself. No time for distractions of the sexy variety.
After he leaves, I run upstairs to watch the videos before I open the shop.
There’s nothing abnormal, no strangers or anything odd on the tapes over the last twenty-four hours.
I curse and flop my head into my hands. What are they planning? I know they’re going to do something, I just need to figure out what. What would I do if I were in their shoes? I try to think of something nefarious, but it’s useless. I’ve never been as manipulative and conniving as they are.
There has to be a way to find them though, or at least confirm they’re somewhere in town.
But how?
I tap my fingers on the desk, thinking.
Maybe we should move one of the cameras back out somewhere public. If the parents are nearby, they’ll have to show their faces around town eventually. The general store is probably the best bet. Everyone goes there for something eventually.
If I put a camera up there, we might at least be able to determine if they’re here, figure out if they have any sort of routine established.
Once that’s settled, I call the mechanic’s shop we passed the other day and haggle a deal for a car that runs. It’s not pretty, a station wagon with a dent in the side and it might not run for long, but at least it runs now. I only have to pay fifty bucks for the exchange, and they will pick up our abandoned vehicle and tow it back to their shop free of charge.
Then I spend some time on the internet, searching for another place to go. Somewhere far away. I wonder if our new car would make it to Alaska.
I putter around on the internet aimlessly, one search leading to another until eventually I find myself researching the origins of the rutabaga instead of looking for places to live.
My heart isn’t in it.
My heart is . . . it doesn’t matter.
I give up on the search and head downstairs to open the shop.
A couple hours later, I’ve finished a reading with Mrs. Hale, in which I ‘ve told her absolutely nothing about the future. She comes by once a week to talk about her late husband and her daughter, who lives a few hours away. She doesn’t even ask me questions anymore. I think she wants someone to talk to more than anything else. Someone who will listen.
After she leaves, Tabby shows up.
“How’s Troy?” I ask her. “Is he still among the living?”
I’m standing behind the register with the ledger open in front of me, documenting Mrs. Hale’s purchase of a salt lamp.
Tabby leans against the counter on the opposite side. “He’s lucky to be alive. If that cold didn’t take him, I was planning on doing the job myself. But yeah, he’s better. So I’m going home tonight if you guys want to come back.” She says the words casually, but her brows lift and she watches me.
“Oh, that would be a good idea.” I nibble at my bottom lip. “But tonight Jared and I are going out to investigate a lead for the case. So maybe tomorrow?” I lean down to put the account ledger under the counter.
“Going out, huh?” She snorts. “You know, you could keep staying with him. He has more rooms. And a pool. And smoking-hot abs.”
My face flushes, prickling with heat.
She points at me. “I knew it!”
; “Knew what?”
“You guys are totally into each other, so what’s the real deal here, Ruby? Why wouldn’t you go for it? Jared is hot, he’s single, he has a job, he’s hot, he has a house, and he’s nice. Plus, he’s hot. And he likes you. Time to fess up and pay the pied piper. And by pied piper, I mean sex.”
“I’ll fess up as soon as you do,” I deflect. “Have you seen Mr. It Was Nice?”
She sighs and slumps against the counter. “Ben and I are done. I had time to think about everything when I was secluded from the rest of the world in quarantine. I don’t know what I’ve been thinking, messing around with him all this time. There could be someone who actually, legitimately wants to date me and be with me, and I’ve been so focused on Ben, who doesn’t want anything from me except my awesome boobs. What if I’ve missed a better opportunity in the meantime?”
“Wow,” I say. “Did you tell him this?”
“Well, no. But I’m totally going to.”
“Okay.”
“No, really Ruby. I mean it. I know no one believes me because Ben and I have been playing this stupid game for years, but this time, I’m really done.”
“I wasn’t saying okay like I thought you were bullshitting. I really believe you.”
She perks up. “You do?”
“Absolutely. You deserve to be with someone who wants to be with you. And I know you know that.”
“Yeah.” She smiles a little. “I do. And you do too.” Her expression turns stern and she points an accusatory finger in my direction. “And that someone is Jared.”
I laugh her off with a wave. “We’ll see.”
Tabby stays for a minute, and we talk and laugh, but she’s not quite as exuberant as she normally is. Stupid Ben. I wish there were a way I could help her.
~*~
After dinner, Jared and I drop Paige off at Naomi’s. Then we head to Castle Cove Park.
Once he parks the Jeep in the empty lot, Jared hands me a flashlight. “We’ll need these to hike down to the castle,” he explains. “But we should probably shut off the lights once we find a place to hide. That way if anyone is out here, they won’t see us before we see them.”
