“I can’t. I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I have to go.”
For the next few minutes, I stared at my hands. How could she stay silent for eighteen years? She’d watched me cry for weeks after leaving Stan’s and had said nothing. The only thing greater than my anger was the pain of her betrayal.
A subtle rustling drew my attention to the doorway. Owen leaned against the doorframe, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, a crease across his forehead. “What did she say?”
“Nothing.” I lifted my eyes to his. The sharp line of his jaw softened. “You think she did it, don’t you?”
His shrug showed the flex of muscles in his shoulders and upper chest. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. I won’t risk your freedom to exonerate my name.”
“Lanie can’t even spank her kids. Chris was twice her size.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t picture my sister hurting anyone. “She couldn’t do something like that, could she? Maybe she saw someone else do it. Maybe that’s why she’s afraid to say anything.”
Owen took my hand in his then raised my knuckles to his lips. “I don’t have any answers for you.” I rested my forehead on his chest. His arms wrapped me in a comforting hug. The scent of soap and shampoo filled my nose. Dampness from the shower still clung to his skin. When he spoke, his lips brushed the top of my head. “Let it go, Stella. Let it go.”
An hour later, Cindy called and invited us to lunch. We drove over in my Jeep, with the top off and the wind blowing through our hair. She and Dad lived on a twenty-acre farm lined by white fences, cluttered with chickens and cows. A pack of joyful dogs met us in the driveway. Their gleeful yips echoed through the quiet countryside. Two tow-headed boys rushed Owen. He grunted upon impact and pulled them in for hugs.
“You’re just in time.” Cindy called to us from the front porch. “Come on in. Boys, leave Owen alone. I see you’ve met our spawn. This is Hank. He’s eight, and Noah is ten.” The boys beamed at me. She gave them both a swat on the behind. “Go wash up. Dinner’s ready.”
Beautiful antiques crowded every spare inch of the ranch house. The kitchen smelled like meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Cindy had arranged the meal on a picnic table in the backyard. Dad handed Owen a beer from an outside refrigerator, and the two men clapped each other on the shoulders. Under the warm fall sunshine, we chatted and ate. In the older couple’s company, it was easy to put aside my worries for a few hours.
“You know they found that Cartwright girl,” Dad said conversationally.
“Such a shame,” Cindy added. “Missing for twenty years, almost to the day. Her poor parents. It’s good that they can get some closure now. Did you know her, Owen?”
“No.” He set his fork beside his plate. “But my brother knew her.”
“I saw her picture in the post office. Do they know what happened to her?” I asked, thinking of the girl’s red hair and resemblance to Lanie.
“The police said they have some leads, but they’re waiting for forensics before they release any information.”
“I’ll stop by the Cartwright’s tomorrow and see if I there’s anything I can do for them,” Cindy said. “Maybe I’ll take a hot meal. I’m sure they’re too busy to think about food right now.”
My heart went out to the family who’d lost a child and lived in limbo for so long. At the same time, I admired Cindy for reaching out to them. The more time I spent around her and Dad, the more I realized how empty my life had been. Lanie was my only family, and we spent little time together, aside from holidays and an occasional visit between work junkets. I envied their sense of unity. My thoughts continued to drift as the conversation turned toward sports and current events.
“That was amazing,” I said, pushing away my plate. “I haven’t eaten food that good—well, ever.”
“I think I’ve gained ten pounds since I moved in here,” Owen replied.
“You haven’t gained an ounce,” Cindy said, rolling her eyes. “And, Stella, with all the places you’ve been, I find it hard to believe that my home cooking outshines anything else.”
I paused to fold my napkin into a neat square, considering her statement. “Actually, when I’m on the road, I don’t have a lot of time to enjoy the cuisine. We usually just grab whatever’s handy to tide us over until we get home. I’ve had more cases of food poisoning than I can count.”
“That’s a shame,” Dad said. “You need to slow down and enjoy it. Some of us will never get the chance to see those places.”
“I’ve never been outside the state,” Cindy said.
Dad’s forehead creased. “Maybe we should take a trip for our anniversary. We could go on a cruise to the Bahamas.”
“I’ll leave the traveling to Stella. My place is here on the farm with you, you old coot.” She smiled up at him. Their mutual affection brought a lump to my throat. Was it possible for someone like me to have a relationship like this?
“I’ve always wanted to see a castle.” The quiet rumble of Owen’s voice made my heart flutter. “You know, knights and the whole medieval thing.”
“You should go sometime.” Beneath the table, I rested my hand lightly on top of his thigh. He put my hand over his, squeezing, and smiled at me. Cindy caught the exchange and smirked. Heat rushed into my face.
“Maybe.” He squinted into the afternoon sun, his focus faraway. “Like Dad said, I’ll probably never get the chance.” His hand slid from mine. The loss of his touch left me cold inside. Did he blame me for his lost opportunities? I continued to blame myself for his situation. We’d never be able to outrun our past.
“Excuse me. I need to answer this.” I shifted away from Owen to dig my buzzing phone out of my purse. Under other circumstances, I would have sent the call to voice mail, but it was Nancy, from National Geographic. After pushing away from the table, I walked a few paces toward a neighboring shade tree. “Hello?”
“Stella, thank goodness you answered. Look, doll, I need a huge favor, and you have to say yes.” Nancy’s British accent always made me smile. She sounded so darned posh, when she was actually a polyester-wearing, chain-smoking, middle-aged mother of four.
“What’s up?” My gaze followed Owen across the yard as he tossed a football to one of the boys. Watching him, relaxed and easy, made my chest constrict. He seemed at ease with the kids. Their teasing voices carried across the emerald green grass. Noah grabbed Owen’s leg and tried to take him down. They landed in a heap of shouts and grunts and laughter. Hank jumped on top of them.
“Pack a bag. I need you in Iceland, pronto. There’s unprecedented volcanic activity going on right now. We want to do a big spread in our next issue. Sandeep was supposed to do the shoot, but he’s got croup or gout or something like that.” She took a drag of her cigarette then coughed. “I can get you a flight out from Indianapolis tomorrow.”
“I don’t know. I’m kind of in the middle of something. With the house and all. You know.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t tear my attention from Owen. He laughed as Hank tried to steal the ball from his brother. The sight of his smile made me never want to leave again.
“Stella! Did you hear what I said? Feature article. Don’t fail me now.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you do this for me, I’ll forever be grateful, love. I’ll owe you big time.”
Time away from Corbett might do me some good. Owen and the past had occupied too much of my brain for the past few weeks. I needed time to process the situation with Lanie. A change of scenery would give me an opportunity to clear my head. I sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll probably regret this, but okay.”
“Yes!” Her screech made me wince.
“But I want a crack at the cover.” I held my breath, waiting for her answer. Making the cover had been my dream for years.
“You know I can’t make promises like that,” she began.
“Oh well, good luck finding someone else.”
Her breath huffed against the phone. “Cheese and rice, you drive a ha
rd bargain. Fine. Done. I’ll text you the flight arrangements in a few.”
I ended the call and leaned against the tree. Owen smiled at me, but sadness deepened the lines around his mouth. We were playing with fire, and he knew it. One of us was going to get hurt, and I had a feeling it would be me. Distance between us might be the best answer. “Do you think you could watch my house for a few days?” I asked him. “I need to leave town, and I’d feel better if the house wasn’t empty. You’re probably going to park in my driveway anyway.”
“Is something wrong?” With a smooth motion, he tossed the football to one of the boys. The muscles flexed in his arms, sending my hormones into a frenzy. I was still sore in all the right places from our marathon of lovemaking.
“No. That was work. They need me to fly out tomorrow on an emergency photoshoot.” The sun disappeared behind a cloud. Chill bumps rose on my arms. I avoided his gaze and turned to Cindy and Dad. “I’m afraid I’ve got to head home and pack. Thanks so much for the hospitality and the meal. I really enjoyed myself.”
“So glamorous,” Cindy said. She gave me a warm smile. “Now, you call or text the minute you arrive, so we know you’re okay.” Her concern lifted my spirits. It was good to have someone genuinely care for me.
“Okay. I will,” I promised.
“Wait a second.” Owen’s hand encircled my bicep. “Is this really an emergency, or are you running away from me?”
“Yes, it’s an emergency, and no, I’m not running away,” I replied, but I wasn’t sure about my answer. Wasn’t this my pattern? Always ducking out when things got too emotional or scary? Placing a hand on his chest, I kept him at arm’s length and lowered my voice. “Let’s not talk about this here.”
“I’ll grab some clothes.” He threaded his fingers through my hand. “Come with me.”
I followed him to his room above the garage. The room was sparsely furnished and tidy. A futon rested against one wall, a twin bed and dresser against the other. His kitchen consisted of a hotplate and mini-fridge. While he tossed a few items into a duffel bag, I walked the perimeter of the room. A lump formed in my throat when I saw the pictures on the walls. They were my photographs, arranged in neat rows, torn from the pages of magazines and newspapers. Some of them went back more than ten years.
“You saved these?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice steady.
“Sure.” Over his shoulder, he tossed me a half smile. “You do good work.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Even though we’d been separated by time and secrets, he’d kept me in his thoughts. The ache in my chest spread into my torso. He’d never forgotten.
“I may have been stuck in Corbett, but I was able to see the world through your eyes.” He stood beside me, shoulder to shoulder, and studied a picture from an article on Morocco. “This is my favorite. I like the colors.”
“I took that at a market in Marrakesh.” Bright pottery overflowed with spices, herbs, and teas. The play of textures against the backdrop of peach architecture had made this one of my best efforts.
“So where are you going tomorrow?” Avoiding my gaze, he turned and went into the small bathroom for toiletries.
“Iceland. To photograph a volcano.”
“Really?” He paused and lifted an eyebrow but never quite met my eyes. “Is that safe?”
“Probably not.” I snorted, thinking of all the times I’d seen my life flash before my eyes in order to get the perfect shot. “One time, Kevin duct taped my feet to a tree limb, so I could get just the right angle over the rim of a canyon in Mexico.” At Owen’s open-mouthed dismay, I cleared my throat and changed the subject. “Are you sure you don’t mind staying at my house for a few days?”
“I don’t mind. I’m sure Dad and Cindy will be happy to have me out of their hair for a while. It’ll be like a mini-vacation. I can work on fixing a few things while you’re gone.” He paused before casting a sideways glance at me. “Who’s Kevin?”
“He’s one of the crew.”
“Oh.” By the set of his jaw, I guessed the trajectory of his thoughts.
“I don’t mix business and pleasure,” I said, trying to hold back an amused smile. His jealousy pleased me more than I wanted to admit. “That would be unprofessional.” Although I regarded my team as good friends, we never breached the boundaries of friendship. I’d worked too long and too hard to sacrifice my career for sex.
“Of course.” He zipped up the duffel bag and nodded toward the door. “Ready?”
Somehow, over the space of the last hour, we’d drifted apart again. We drove back to my house in silence. The sun hovered on the horizon, spilling streaks of red and gold over the cornfields. The air smelled clean and fresh. Owen hovered in the kitchen for a few minutes before heading toward the stairs. My palms began to sweat. We were moving way too fast. My life was spinning out of control.
“I’ll be up in a second. I just want to double check my equipment.”
“Do you need any help?” he asked.
“Um, no. Thanks.” We were back to being polite strangers. An air of awkward restraint stretched between us. This was what I wanted, I reminded myself, to slow down and catch my breath before I made a horrible mistake.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to bed.” The stairs creaked under his feet as he ascended to the second story.
“Goodnight.” I watched the empty doorway where he’d stood seconds earlier, caught between the urge to run after him and the need to protect my heart. Everyone in my life had left me—my parents, Stan, Owen. Why should I believe this would be any different? Even though I knew Owen hadn’t left me on purpose, the hurt child inside me refused to accept the possibility that we could make a relationship work.
With a heavy sigh, I gathered my cameras, lenses, accessories, and equipment. I took my time, running through each checklist twice. To make the process of travel simpler, I always kept a bag packed with electrical adapters, my passport, toiletries, and other essential items. Knowing that Owen was upstairs distracted my attention, and I had to start the process over several times.
By the time I trudged to my room, darkness enveloped the house. I tiptoed past my bedroom. The floorboards groaned underfoot. Light spilled underneath Owen’s door. I knocked twice, softly, and waited.
“Come in,” he said. I opened the door a few inches and peeked inside. He was stretched out on the bed, propped against the headboard with a book in his hand. Sweat broke out on my palms. I shifted from one foot to the other.
“I thought—I mean—” Embarrassment heated my face. I swallowed and tried again. “How come you’re in here?”
He lifted an eyebrow and studied me over the top of the book. After a few seconds, he snapped it shut and lowered it to his lap. “I didn’t want to assume anything. You seem to be freaking out a little with our situation.”
A light breeze rattled the window panes. I’d have to put new windows on the list of upgrades before winter. The renovations grew lengthier with each passing day. Owen stretched an arm over his head. He was shirtless, the bedsheet anchored around his waist. The dips and swells of each muscle group showed on his abdomen and chest. I squeezed my thighs together, remembering how good his weight had felt on top of me and the way he’d made me moan with pleasure.
“I’m not freaking out.” I closed my eyes and tried again. “Okay, maybe a little, but seriously, Owen. I have no idea what’s going on. I need time to get my head together. We’re in a weird place, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”
“You don’t have to explain, Stell. I get it.” He shifted forward, lifting his knees and resting his forearms there. “Go get some sleep. You’ve got a long day ahead of you.”
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t follow his advice. I tossed and turned in my bed and groaned in frustration. After an hour of staring at the ceiling, I went back to his room. I couldn’t be in the same house and not be near him. The need to have him close outweighed all my fears and misgivings. He was still awake, nose buried in
his book.
“I can’t sleep,” I said. He stared at me. My pulse accelerated. I wasn’t used to taking chances. Admitting my feelings was scarier than exploring a live volcano. “Do you think maybe I could sleep with you? Not to have sex,” I added quickly. “Just—I want to be near you.”
He shifted to the side of the narrow bed then flipped back the covers. “Climb in.”
Beneath the sheets, the bed was warm. I curled into his side, resting my cheek on his chest and exhaled. He wrapped an arm around me and tugged me tighter into the nook of his shoulder. With my ear against his skin, I could feel the steady thump of his heart. He continued to read, and I fell asleep.
23
Stella
Present Day…
The next morning, I awoke to an empty bed and rumpled sheets. For a brief second, I blinked at the blue walls and thought I was a kid again. Then I remembered Owen, the way he’d held me tight throughout the night, his feathery kisses to the top of my head, and the heat of his body pressed against mine. Even with my head and heart in turmoil, I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be in his presence.
After a quick shower, I threw some clothes into a suitcase and dragged it downstairs. Owen met me in the hallway with a cup of coffee. My eyes went immediately to his bare chest. He rubbed his free hand across his flat stomach. When I lifted my eyes to his face, the sight of his square jaw covered in the dark shadow of a new beard made my heart palpitate. Why did he have to be so damned sexy?
“I would’ve brought that down for you,” he said while pressing the coffee into my hand.
“It’s okay. I’m used to doing it myself.” Despite spending the night in each other’s arms, the distance between us continued to grow. I went to the kitchen window and stared across the backyard to avoid his gaze. Dew sparkled on the green grass. A few red leaves drifted on the September breeze before floating down to the lawn. The seasons hovered on the brink of change, and so did I.
Monster Love Page 13
