Primrose Lane

by Debbie Mason

  The doors to the elevator opened and he took a left, heading toward Paul’s room. They hadn’t spoken much over the years, but Jeremy had kept tabs on him. As he approached the room he slowed, walking lightly when he heard the sound of Chelsea’s voice. He stopped just short of the door, where he could see them without being seen.

  She spoke again and her voice washed over him like the first warm spring rain after a long, cold winter. Creeping closer, he stole a quick peek. She sat beside Paul, resting her hand on his arm gently, talking so quietly he had to struggle to hear her words. He was taken back to a time when he’d gotten his appendix out and she hadn’t left his side as he recovered. Why hadn’t he understood what she meant to him back then? How could he have been such a fool to lose her?

  History wouldn’t repeat itself this time.

  “…and that’s why you were attacked tonight. They’re trying to flush me out.”

  “Shit, Chels,” Paul growled.

  Jeremy couldn’t see her face, but her shoulders were drooped, and her head was as low as her voice. “I’m sorry. I never intended for this to happen, for you to get dragged into my fight. If I’d known they would do this…”

  “I know.” Paul stared at her, his bruised face looking like a sick artistic interpretation of a face rather than the real thing. “How are we going to get out of this mess?”

  “There’s no we, just me—” She stopped midsentence, stiffening. He held his breath. Something told him she’d discovered his presence. Or rather, sensed someone standing there, listening. Now she would clam up. “How did they get the drop on you?”

  “What? Why—” Paul stared at her, then nodded once, glancing toward the door. I stepped back quickly, heart racing. Damn them and their silent communication. “I was leaving the DMV—” He broke off, wincing. “They came out of nowhere.”

  She nodded, smoothing his hair out of his face tenderly. “Criminals are good at that.”

  Footsteps approached, so Jeremy slid into the empty room next to Paul’s, holding his breath. After a moment, the door to Paul’s room shut, and he heard Chelsea say, “They’re gone.”

  Jeremy pressed his ear to the thin wall.

  “Assholes,” Paul said. “How did you get mixed up with those guys anyway?”

  “It’s not like I meant to,” she practically whispered.

  “They were trying to find out if I knew where you were. I told them the truth, that we hadn’t talked in years. That last I heard, you were some kind of hotshot lawyer down in Miami. I think they bought it, but you should leave, Chels. They might have someone watching the hospital.”

  “Shit,” Chelsea said after a long pause. Jeremy could picture her sitting there, covering her face, looking exhausted as hell.

  “Yeah. ‘Shit’ is right. The cartels don’t mess around. And with what you did, they might never stop looking.”

  She sighed loud enough for Jeremy to hear it through the wall. “I did what I had to do, Paul. But you know what, it doesn’t matter. You’re right, I need to leave. Find someplace else to hide out.”

  Anger rushed through Jeremy’s veins and he balled his hands at his sides. No. Hell, no. He didn’t come back from Bangor for her only to watch her skip town.

  She was right where he needed her to be.

  Chapter 11

  After Paul drifted off into a morphine-induced sleep, I sat by the bed in the white room with fluorescent lights overhead, watching over him with dry, weary eyes. This was on me. I had assumed they would be too busy dealing with the mess I’d left behind to chase after me already. Paul had paid the price for my mistake. It was my duty to make sure it didn’t happen again.

  At least three people had stopped by to check on him, so news was traveling fast. After the third drop-in, I requested that no one else be allowed in, so Paul could rest.

  “Chels?” Jeremy said from behind me.

  I stiffened, closed my eyes, and prayed for the patience the good Lord had never given me. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before you finally listen?”

  “Is he okay?” he asked me, coming into the room and completely ignoring my words…as usual. Sometimes I wondered if he even heard them. “What happened?”

  “Some punks jumped him outside his office,” I said quickly, sticking close enough to the truth. While I thought I was an excellent liar, Jeremy did always have an uncanny knack for knowing when I was stretching the truth. “It wasn’t enough to just mug him, they had to beat him, too. Assholes.”

  Jeremy came up beside me, staring at Paul with a furrowed brow. His hands were in his pockets, and his jaw was hard. “Some street kids took the time to break his thumbs?”

  “Yeah.” I gripped my knees, staring at my brother’s hands. Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back. Now wasn’t the time or the place to lose it. “Sick, right?”

  His mouth pressed into a thin, tight line. “Unbelievable.” After a few moments, he let out a long breath and put his hand on my shoulder. “Let me take you home.”

  “I can manage on my own.”

  “That wasn’t a question. You’re exhausted, and sitting here worrying isn’t going to help Paul. You need to rest.”

  “No.” I pulled free, my heart racing and my skin burning where Jeremy had touched me. His hand stayed open, palm up and empty between us. “I need to make sure they don’t come back.”

  “Why would a bunch of ‘punks’ go to all the trouble of sneaking into a hospital to attack Paul again?” he asked, his perfect brown brow arching. I hated when he did that. “I feel there’s something you’re not telling me. Am I right?”

  “Of course you’d think that,” I muttered, knowing I was skating on the edge of giving him information he didn’t need to know. “No. I’m just being paranoid. I’m worried about my brother.”

  “He has a police guard.” He pointed out the door and I looked. Sure enough, there was a uniform outside his door. Weird. Wouldn’t Paul love to know that law enforcement was lurking? The officer waved at me and I blinked at him before I recognized him. His name was…uh…Harry? No, Larry. He’d asked me to prom. I’d gone with Jeremy. I should’ve gone with Larry instead. “Paul will be fine on his own tonight. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  I crossed my arms, forcing my attention off the officer and back to Jeremy. Paul would have to deal with it, because having a police presence around was actually calming me. For once. “I love how you continue to think that I give a damn what you want these days.”

  With that, I moved closer to Paul’s side, intent on ignoring Jeremy. He’d get bored watching me watch Paul sleep soon enough.

  “Fine. You want to stay?” He walked over to the other chair in the room. It had been in the corner, but he dragged it right next to mine and sat. “Then we’ll stay.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Dead serious.” He crossed an ankle over his knee, his heel brushing my thigh because he was so close, and leaned back as if he didn’t have a worry in the whole world. “It’s been ten years since we had a sleepover. And that last one was…eye-opening, to say the least.”

  I still couldn’t wrap my head around the chain of events that had led us here, or what it all meant. Jeremy had chosen me over Mary. He was still choosing me. I guess, in a way, he always had. His mother had hated me because of my father, but Jeremy had never cared, always keeping his bedroom window unlocked for me whenever I needed to get away from my family. He had loved me. Of course, he apparently didn’t realize he was in love with me until I decided enough was enough and left. Jeremy was the love of my life.

  But, man, he could be such a guy.

  “Yeah, that night was definitely eye-opening.” I looked back at Paul for any signs of distress. He didn’t so much as twitch. The beeping of his heart monitor remained slow and steady. “Despite, y’know, earlier, I have no interest in repeating history.”

  “Yeah. Me neither.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Glad we’re on the same page.” />
  He leaned forward, resting a hand on my thigh. His brown hair fell on his forehead, and his piercing green eyes called for me to give him what he wanted—me. He wore a flannel shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, and his huge arms strained against the fabric of the shirt. He was so strong, so steady, and I ached to borrow some of that strength. To let him take care of me…

  Again.

  “You misunderstand me.” Hesitantly, he reached out, cupping my cheek. “I plan on kissing you again, but I have no intention of losing you this time, Chels.”

  I stiffened, holding my breath, because having him here, touching me, made it oh-so-tempting to lean on him for support. Just like he wanted. Just like I couldn’t. I wasn’t that naïve girl who believed in love anymore. I lurched to my feet, shaking off his touch. If only it was as easy to lose the emotional hold he had on me. “What’s it going to take to get rid of you?”

  He smirked. “Easy. Let me take you home.”

  “Done.” I grabbed my purse, checking to make sure the officer was still there. He was, and he looked a hell of a lot more alert than I felt. “And then you leave me the hell alone. Look forward, and leave the past where it belongs.”

  Every moment I spent with him was another moment he crept closer to my heart and threatened the new beginning I was fighting so hard for. Every moment brought danger and risk to things I wasn’t willing to lose.

  Like his life.

  Chapter 12

  The second Jeremy parked behind my car, I was opening the door, hopping down, and heading for the inn. I’d been too close to him for too long, and I needed space to breathe. I inserted the key into the lock with steady hands and slipped inside my sanctuary. I pushed the door shut behind me with my hip but collided with something hard. I bounced off it with a soft oof. This was a lovely sense of déjà vu. “What the—?”

  “I want to look the place over,” Jeremy said quickly, sliding inside uninvited…again. “After all, your brother was just attacked.”

  “And what will you do if you find someone?” I asked incredulously, unable to believe how incredibly hard it was for him to get the damn message. It was exhausting trying to constantly push him away—and I was all out of energy. “You’re an accountant. You gonna throw a calculator at him?”

  “No.” He shot me a look out of the corner of his eye. “How did you know I was a CPA?”

  Well, shit. I’d as good as admitted to looking him up online. I hadn’t meant to be so transparent, but after Paul’s attack, I was a little off my game. “Paul mentioned it once, I think. Or maybe it was Dad.”

  He lifted a brow. “You visited him in jail?”

  Nope. Dad got locked up with a six-year sentence for breaking and entering. If he was lucky, he’d be out next year. But given his history, his freedom wouldn’t last long. “What exactly are you going to do if you find someone?”

  “Just because I’m an accountant doesn’t mean I’m weak.” He shot me a hard look. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I am.”

  I held my hands up defensively. “I’d never dare.”

  Brushing past me, he glanced in the living room. “Damn. Did someone break in here and steal your walls?”

  “Yes. They absolutely did,” I said dryly, following him. “There’s a real market for old wood paneling on eBay these days.”

  He snorted and moved into the kitchen, stepping over fallen paneling and nails. I’d have to clean it up at some point, but I wouldn’t tonight. I was too tired. “Wow. I didn’t know brown vinyl floors were back in.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Spare me your sarcastic comments. I know the inn needs a lot of work. Like I said yesterday, I’m busy. I wasn’t making that up.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, saying nothing at all—and yet somehow saying everything at the same time. As he moved into the pantry, glancing at the bare shelves, he flicked the light on in the kitchen. It flickered, then turned fully on with a pop. “Electrical issues. Probably old knob-and-tube wiring. It’ll all have to be updated to pass inspection.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

  He grabbed a pillow off the couch on the way, holding it in front of himself like a shield and shooting me a charming grin. “I’ll bring this in case anyone attacks. You know how to do wiring?” he asked, heading to the stairs.

  I rolled my eyes. “Nope.”

  “I do,” he called over his shoulder.

  “Congrats?” I followed him up the stairs, trying not to stare at his butt. I failed, with a capital F. “Want a cookie?”

  “Sure. I love cookies.” He rounded the corner. “I did the wiring at Dad’s place, you know. I learned a few tricks fixing up his old place before he sold it.”

  “How is he?”

  “Dead.” He flicked on the hallway light, glancing at me briefly. Shadows covered his eyes—or was it the pain from his loss? “Died two years ago. Mom shortly after.”

  Well, damn. I hadn’t seen that on his Facebook page. Despite his parents’ feelings about me, they’d been good people. They never knew about my private entrance—Jeremy’s window—but they’d invited me to dinner more often than not. Jeremy wasn’t allowed near my place, but I preferred his house anyway. His mother always had fresh-baked goodies on the counter, like Betty Crocker. If Betty could also shoot a deer with a rifle at a hundred yards. Mrs. Holland had been a woman of many talents. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “I miss them every day,” he said simply. He opened the next door, glancing into the Blue Room. Or the room that would be blue, anyway, once I was done with it. Right now, it was covered in faded, peeling floral wallpaper. “You need to paint in here. Maybe something pale. Like…light blue, since it faces the ocean. That would remind your guests of the nearby beach.”

  I stiffened, my heart picking up speed. We used to joke that we shared a brain, because we always came up with the same ideas at the same time. Years apart and yet it was like no time had passed at all. I gestured to the cans of blue paint in the corner of the room. “That’s the plan.”

  We studied each other. Our connection hadn’t died, no matter the distance between us. It would be so easy to fall back into “us,” to resume our relationship as if nothing had changed, but I couldn’t. I needed to focus on the inn, on making it the warm and welcoming place I knew it would be—not on Jeremy.

  He went through all the rooms, stopping when he reached mine. Slowly, he pushed the door open, turning the light on. He strode in, glancing under the bed for hidden monsters, the way he had in all the other rooms. My monsters didn’t hide under beds. I leaned on the wall, watching him check my closet. Having him here was…nice. All the more reason to make him go.

  As he walked away from my closet, he tossed the pillow on my bed. “I could stay here. Help you fix the place up. I’m handy.”

  “No, thanks,” I said, shutting that idea down immediately, mostly because it made my heart soar and my legs go a little weak. The idea of having Jeremy under the same roof as me, helping me transform this place…it wasn’t exactly a bad one. “I don’t take charity.”

  He flexed his jaw. “It’s not charity. I’m paying an arm and a leg to stay at that cheap-ass motel because it’s the only lodging in town. Fixing up the inn gives people like me options. This place is much nicer, and you can play the whole ‘short walk to the beach’ angle that the motel could never claim. It’s the perfect small-town getaway. You could host honeymooners—any couple, really, looking for a romantic weekend. Maybe even weddings.”

  “That’s the plan,” I repeated. “You think I didn’t think of that?”

  “I know you did. But the thing is, being here, looking at the rooms?” He smiled, locking eyes with me. “I can feel it. I can feel the things this place could be, what it could offer people. And, damn it, Chels, I want to be a part of it. I want to help you rebuild.”

  I didn’t say anything. Mostly, because all I could think of saying was yes. But I couldn’t. He’d suck me back into hi
s world of goodness and I wasn’t naïve enough to think that world existed anymore.

  “Let me help you open this place up sooner. I’ll be in town for a week, so let me lend you a hand while I still can.” He gestured toward the hallway, walking across the room. My bedroom felt a million times smaller with him in it. I stared at him as he crept closer, one step at a time. When he was directly in front of me, I crossed my arms in front of me defensively. “I think it’s really special what you’re doing here, rebuilding the inn. Let me be a part of it. Of you.” He blinked. “That came out wrong. I meant…screw it.”

  And then, without warning, he cupped my cheek. Before I could exhale, he was kissing me, and I was clinging to him, and his hands were everywhere. I couldn’t think of any other place I’d want Jeremy to be than here. I wanted him with me, fixing up the inn, building a future that was so real that I could feel it, too. He slid his hand up my shirt, cupping my breast, and claimed my mouth with no mercy and no hint of hesitation.

  He just…took.

  And I gave. Willingly.

  Arching my back, I dug my nails into his shoulders, letting out a soft moan. His phone rang, and he stiffened, his lips going hard against mine before he pulled back. “Shit.”

  I shoved at his shoulders. “If you didn’t want to kiss me, then you shouldn’t have—”

  “It’s not that. I just didn’t want to push you when you were vulnerable,” he said, pulling away from me and ignoring his ringing phone. “I meant what I said, though. Can I help you?”

  Swallowing, I stared at him, knowing I was in over my head. There’s only so much you can learn from construction how-to books and YouTube. Besides, no matter how much I pushed Jeremy away, he kept showing up, so I might as well save my energy for more important things…like staying alive. “If you’re going to help, you can stay here for free as payment.”

  “Deal.” His grin lit up the room better than any flickering light ever could. “You won’t regret this.”

  That might be true, but one way or another…he would.