No Regrets (Bomar Boys #1)

by Jess Bryant

  “I’m not bailin’ on you. I have to work. It’s not the same.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He sighed when he heard the sarcasm in his twin’s voice, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Try to delay and if they won’t let you, reschedule okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Colt…” He tried to get another reaction, any reaction other than that solemn acceptance that said he was accustomed to being let down but his twin wasn’t having any of it.

  “I said its fine Cash. Do your job. I’ll be fine on my own. Just call when you get back and I’ll see you tonight.”

  The line clicked dead before he could respond and he thought about throwing his phone. He restrained himself and tossed it on the seat beside him instead. He did curse openly since he was in the privacy of his own truck.

  There was nothing in the world he hated more than letting his twin down. They were all each other had. It had always been that way. The fact that they were grown men hadn’t separated them in any way. If one of them needed something, they called the other. He worried about Colt, about the demons his twin carried and the scars he wore. He knew Colt worried about him just as much.

  He didn’t like the idea of Colt crawling into the cage without him being there to back him up. Colt would take his place in the cage, the fight would go on, and Cash wouldn’t be there to peel his brother off whatever sorry bastard got put in with him.

  “Shit.” He grumbled as his eyes finally found what he was looking for.

  He needed to make this quick. He had to get back to town before that fight started. Colt had been covering for him since they were kids, always stepping in to take the worst of the punishment, the worst of the beatings, but they weren’t children anymore and he wasn’t going to let Colt step into that cage without him there to back him up.

  Thankfully, he’d found the car in need of a tow. He did a quick drive-by, taking in the popped hood and ensuring all four tires were still intact as he made a U-turn and pulled around in front of the SUV. The sun was still setting so if he hurried he could get back to Old Settlers, drop the girl at her house, the Jeep at the shop and head straight to the meet before it got too late.

  He threw the truck into park and slid out. The figure behind the wheel tossed the door open as well and jumped down to the ground. She was a tiny little thing. That was the first thing he noticed. The second, a flash of red hair, stopped him in his tracks.

  A petite, curvy little redhead? He had to blink twice to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. She’d raised a hand to her forehead, attempting to block the sun that was at his back, but when she stopped cold he knew that she’d recognized him as easily as he recognized her.

  “Cash.”

  His name. Not a question. She knew it was him. She hadn’t confused him for his brother for even a second. She’d taken one glance at him from ten yards away after half a decade and known it was him with pinpoint accuracy.

  “Jemma?” He managed through a tight throat.

  Just saying her name hurt. That shouldn’t have surprised him. Thinking about her always hurt so of course coming face to face with her would feel as if he’d been split open by a sharp blade. When she took a wary step back, away from him, the knife in his chest twisted.

  They stared at one another for a long moment, both of them silent. A thousand questions ran through his head, questions he had no right to ask, questions with answers he didn’t deserve. He didn’t even deserve to look at her, not after what he’d done, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

  He’d told himself that he would never see her again. He’d resigned himself to that fate. Hell, he’d all but guaranteed it but here she was and he couldn’t stop staring at her, afraid if he blinked that she would disappear again.

  She looked the same. She looked just like he remembered. Five years older and yet, just as beautiful as she’d always been.

  Her long, red hair piled on top of her head in a messy ponytail exposed her delicate neck and shoulders. The simple t-shirt she was wearing did nothing to disguise her generous breasts and the denim cut-offs made her short legs appear miles long. A pair of sunglasses shielded her face from him but he didn’t need to see her eyes to know that her beautiful hazel gaze was taking him in as well.

  “I can’t believe it’s really you, of all people… of course it’s you.” She finally muttered, “That’s just my luck.”

  He had no idea what she was talking about so he only shrugged, “What in the hell are you doing here Jemma?”

  She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near here. Last he’d heard she was somewhere in Texas, living in one of the cities and building a good life for herself. He’d never asked for that update, had come by it through the kind of gossip that was as close to verifiable as existed in a small town like Old Settlers.

  Colt had given it to him, said it came from Skylar, her best friend, and he’d asked never to be informed of her whereabouts ever again. That had been two years ago. Not long after that, Colt had broken his promise never to speak her name and told him that she was engaged. Cash had responded by getting black-out drunk. Two days later when he sobered up to find his truck buried in a tree and the apartment torn to hell, his brother had learned not to bring her up again.

  “I’m allowed to come and go as I please, Cash. You don’t have rights to Old Settlers just because I was the one that left.”

  Her saucy tone snapped him out of his reverie and he sighed, “Of course not, that’s not what I meant.”

  “I don’t really give a shit what you meant.”

  He deserved that. He deserved worse. So he bit his tongue and simply nodded when she put her hands on her hips and tilted her chin up. Her feisty redhead personality had always been one of the things he liked most about her. It was nice to see she hadn’t lost that fire even if he was the one she burned.

  “If I’d known you were working at the garage, I wouldn’t have called.” She huffed, “I hate the idea of asking you for help but I need a tow and you’re here so I guess I’ll just have to take it.”

  “You didn’t give Auto your name.” He shrugged when her head cocked, “You didn’t give him your name when you called. I didn’t know it was you either. If I did…”

  “You would have sent someone else to deal with me?” She snapped.

  “No.”

  Hell no. He wouldn’t have let anyone else come in his place. Maybe he should have. She obviously would have preferred to deal with someone else. But if he’d known it was her, he would have broken the speed limit to get out here to her and he’d have told Colt to do whatever he had to because he wouldn’t be hurrying home for the fight tonight either. But he couldn’t tell her any of that.

  “Look, I’m sure you never thought you’d see my face again and I can promise you I’d hoped to never see yours so let’s just get through this and do as little talking as necessary huh?”

  If that was the way she wanted it, then that was the way it would be. He owed her that much and she didn’t owe him anything. He wouldn’t add any more strikes to his ledger where Jemma Buxton was concerned so he simply nodded and held his hands up in a show of surrender.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” She repeated with what he thought was relief. “Okay, good.”

  He forced himself to only ask the one question he had a right to ask, “What’s wrong with the Jeep?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not the mechanic here.” She shrugged, “It made a loud banging noise and then black smoke started billowing out from under the hood. I barely got it off the road before it died.”

  “Hmm, well that don’t sound good.”

  “No shit Einstein?”

  His lips thinned but he didn’t take the bait, “You tried to start it since?”

  “Nope, just figured I’d camp out here on the side of the road and wait for a big, strong man to come and remind me to try the key because my tiny girl brain couldn’t possibly think to d
o that.”

  “Shit, Jemma. Cool it, would ya? I’m here to help.”

  She snorted when he snapped at her but shut her mouth. He slammed a hand through his hair and tried to think about what he would be doing if she were any other customer. There was no way he was going to forget who she was but he still had a job to do and he didn’t need her sassy mouth distracting him any more than it already had.

  “Go and turn the hazard lights on for me.” He swallowed a growl when she didn’t budge, “Please?”

  “Fine.” She huffed but spun on her heel to do as he asked.

  “And stay in the Jeep until I tell you to get back out.” He added as he watched her curvy little ass walk away from him in those tiny excuse for shorts.

  There was no reason for her to stay in the Jeep, not really, but she didn’t need to know that either. He couldn’t focus with her standing around watching him. And she was watching him, he could feel her eyes on him even from beneath the shade of those sunglasses she was wearing. He’d always been able to feel her gaze like a caress and he was oddly pleased to note that hadn’t changed even as he cursed his body’s instinctive awareness of her.

  Only, even with her out of his line of sight, he was distracted and it took him twice as long to hook the Jeep up as it should have. The entire time, he was intensely aware of the fact that he was letting his brother down by not showing for the fight. Unfortunately he was also insanely aware that Jemma was mere feet away, on the other side of a pane of glass, and watching his every move.

  Here. She was here. Not hundreds of miles away like she was supposed to be. Not completely out of reach like he’d thought she was. She was here, close enough to touch, not that she would ever allow him to touch her.

  Not after the things he’d said. Not after he’d hurt her. Not after the way he’d used her own feelings against her.

  “You about done out here?”

  Cash grit his teeth at the sound of her voice behind him, “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’d like to get going sometime before my next birthday if you don’t mind.”

  “I’m all done.” He finished latching the last lock and turned around, “Go ahead and load up in the truck and we can head out.”

  She was closer than she’d been before, an arm’s length away now, and he froze solid when he saw that she’d taken off her glasses. The sun had gone down when he was working. She didn’t need them to block the bright setting sun but it was in the light of the flashing hazards that he got a clear view of her for the first time and a cold chill ran up his spine.

  “Holy fuck, Jemma, what happened to your face?”

  Her eyes, those glorious green eyes with the flecks of gold, shuttered shut and she stared at the ground instead of at him for the first time. She was silent and completely still, as if she wasn’t even breathing. Her shoulders curled into herself and a flash of white-hot rage flared in his veins. She was black and blue and he’d been hit enough times to know where bruises like hers came from.

  She had a black eye. Her lip was busted and her pretty cheekbone was swollen and bruised as well. The bright colors told him it hadn’t happened long ago, a day, maybe two, but no more. She was fair-skinned, always had been, and his eyes immediately skated over the rest of her with a more discerning eye, searching for more damage and only returning to her face when he didn’t find any.

  “Jemma, answer me.” He took a step towards her and then slammed on the brakes when she scrambled backwards.

  Was she scared of him? An icy shard of certainty pierced his chest and he knew that he was right. Somebody had hit her. A man had hit her. She had reason enough to hate him. He’d given her just cause to despise him but he never would have raised a hand to her and she knew that. She wasn’t scared of him. She was scared in general because someone had hurt her. He knew the look well.

  “Jem…” He softened his tone, “Who did that to your face? Who hurt you?”

  Her chin tilted up and she shook her head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I fell down a flight of stairs.”

  The blatant lie hit him like a ton of bricks. She was lying. To him. He gaped at her for a long moment. The Jemma he had known was a terrible liar. The truth always shown through in her eyes, in the way that she couldn’t help but fidget. This woman held herself perfectly still, icily still, and had clearly told her fair share of lies because if he hadn’t known better, he would have believed her.

  “Bullshit.”

  She shrugged.

  “Goddamnit Jemma, somebody hurt you and you’re going to tell me who it was so I can track the fucker down and return the favor.”

  Her aloof mask faltered and her brows furrowed, “I… but… you would do that?”

  “Not would. Will. I just need a name.”

  “Wh… why?”

  Because nobody should ever raise a hand to a woman. Because she had belonged to him once and the idea of another man touching her in any way infuriated him. Because he’d let her go so that she would be safe, so that she could find someone better than him, someone that deserved her and would give her the world, not so that some other asshole could beat her black and blue.

  “Because any man that would dare raise a hand to you, isn’t a man.” He edged closer to her and winced when she took another step back, keeping space between them, “I would never hurt you, Jemma. You know that.”

  “I know.” She nodded slightly, her gaze dropping again and her voice barely a whisper when she added, “Not physically at least.”

  “Jem…”

  There were a hundred things he wanted to say to that. A thousand things that he wanted to explain. But when she glanced back up, all of his excuses faded, words escaped him, and he couldn’t manage another syllable.

  “Cash, I can’t do this…” Her bottom lip began to tremble and he closed the space between them before she could object.

  He wrapped his arms around her and tucked her against his chest. He thought, for a painful split-second, that she was going to shove him away when she stiffened. Then, just as quickly as the tension had flared through her body, she melted against him. She leaned against him and he felt a shudder roll through her small body before she raised her arms and put them around him as well.

  Jesus, was she crying. Jemma, his Jemma, wasn’t a crier. She hadn’t cried even when he stomped all over her heart and called her those awful names. She hadn’t cried when he walked out on her. She hadn’t cried when she got in her car and drove out of this godforsaken town and promised never to come back.

  But here she was, running home because someone else had hurt her even worse than he had. He could put that much together. It was the only thing that made sense. She wouldn’t have ever come back here unless it was her last resort.

  It gutted him, absolutely destroyed him, to see her in pain, but he was thankful that she had come here if she was in danger. If she was here, he could protect her. She couldn’t have come here thinking she was coming home to him, but she had. She just didn’t know it yet.

  “Jem, who did this to you?” He gently stroked her back.

  “A bastard.” She sniffed, her words muffled by his shirt. “A bastard even worse than you.”

  “You’re not going to give me his name?” He ignored the rest, because he deserved that, even if he hated that particular word and she knew it.

  He might very well be a bastard in the literal sense. He’d wished he was for too long. If he was a bastard, then he wasn’t Decker’s son. And yet, in another way, being a bastard meant he was exactly like Decker.

  “No.” Her fists balled against his back, weakly hitting him before she pulled away, “I hate you.”

  “I know.” He let her go, “I accepted that a long time ago.”

  “Don’t you dare pity me Cash Bomar.” The fire returned to her eyes as she attempted to wipe away the tears and he caught a flash of light that made his stomach turn all over again. She was wearing a huge diamond ring on her left hand. Her engagement ring. “You of all
people do not get to pity me. I don’t need your pity and I don’t need your help.”

  A flare of his own temper had him fighting the urge to flex his fists even if he would never use them on her. It wasn’t the ring that made him angry. That’s what he told himself. It was the way she said his name, as if he was the lowest of the low, the scum of the earth. He had done something unforgivable to her when they had been nothing more than stupid kids but it was more than that. It was the same kind of nasty judgement he saw on the faces of all the supposed upper-class citizens of Old Settlers when they looked at him, simply because he was a Bomar and therefore beneath them.

  “You’re right. You don’t. I’m sure you can find another way back to town. I’ll just get going.”

  He turned on his heel and heard her gasp. He made it all the way to the door of the truck before he felt her behind him. She grabbed his arm and he pulled up short.

  “You’re right. I do need your help. I’m sorry.”

  Cash turned back to face her, “You don’t apologize to me Jemma. Ever.”

  Her eyes darted over his face and he watched as she physically pulled herself back together. Her back straightened and her chin came up again. Her eyes, those eyes that he had fallen into more times than he could count, threatened to swallow him with the emotions she couldn’t hide. Finally, she gave a short nod of acceptance.

  He sighed, “Get in. I’ll get you back to town. We don’t have to talk if that’s really the way you want it.”

  She nodded and then headed for the passenger door. He swiped a hand over his face again and tried to find his balance. Her sudden reappearance in his life had knocked him sideways. He wasn’t sure he knew up from down right now or if he ever had where she was concerned. She’d tied him up in knots from the time they were kids and only one thing had ever mattered to him. Protecting her. Five years apart hadn’t changed that. Nothing would.

  If she didn’t want to talk, he would find some other way to learn her secrets. He would talk to Colt after he got her somewhere safe. Colt was friendly with Skylar and the other woman knew all of Jemma’s secrets. It was possible his twin knew something or could find out if he asked him to.