by Mari Carr
“End of the month.”
“Do you have to go back earlier than that or do we get to keep you the whole four weeks?” He was working overtime to keep his tone casual, fighting back the sadness and—God help him—the anger coursing through him.
“Go back?”
“To get ready? Where does the tour start? Baltimore?”
She gave him a confused look. “I’m not going on tour, Kevin. I turned down the gig ten minutes after you called. I’m staying here. In Hope Falls. For good.”
He stared at her, trying to make sense of her words.
Rory didn’t stay anywhere. Ever.
However, before he could question her more fully, there was a knock at the door as the neighbors arrived, with Mary Higgins leading the charge, burying the kitchen in an avalanche of food. Mary, also a diabetic, had taken Callie under her wing shortly after his sister-in-law had moved to town. She was taking Callie’s death hard, and he spent several minutes simply holding the weeping woman, who was struggling to understand how someone so wonderful could have been taken in the prime of her life.
The rest of the day switched back into that damn fast-forward speed again as they were surrounded by his friends and colleagues. He and Rory spent just over an hour at the funeral parlor making arrangements, both of them quiet and fighting back tears on the return trip home.
Cheryl had remained after everyone else left, serving them dinner from several of the casseroles that had been dropped off earlier. Most of the food on their plates went uneaten.
Then the four of them sat in front of the television like zombies, watching cartoons with Angel until Rory declared it was bedtime—for her and their niece.
Cheryl left a few minutes later when he kept yawning. He had been grateful for her help throughout the day, even as he felt guilty for it.
Now Kevin lie in bed, replaying Rory’s reply to his question about her departure over and over in his head. He wanted to believe what she was saying was true, that she was staying, even though having Rory around all the time would be just as painful as never seeing her.
The main problem was, he didn’t believe her. It wasn’t that he thought she was lying. Honestly, in her mind, she probably was quite sincere. But her response was based on emotion, a knee-jerk reaction to a traumatic event. Once the dust settled, he suspected she’d change her mind and take off again, a singer, her guitar and the open road.
He glanced at the clock by the bed. Rory had fallen asleep in Angel’s bed, so he’d returned to the spare room he had moved into the previous night. The only other room in the house was Callie’s. Kevin was sure neither he nor Rory was ready to sleep in her bedroom, surrounded by so many photos of her and Angel and Keith. There were even a few of him and Rory.
He got a lump in his throat as he recalled the night, four years earlier, when Angel had been born. Rory had come to Hope Falls for the first time to stay with Callie during the last month of her pregnancy. Callie had only been in her new house a few weeks after her hasty departure from Chicago, following Keith’s funeral. Kevin could still recall what a whirlwind that spring had been.
He’d spent weeks bitter and angry, feeling as if he’d been stuck in an unbearable, eternal nightmare, but that ended the night Callie had gone into labor and Angel was born. He’d taken one look at that baby and recognized Rory’s eyes, Keith’s nose and Callie’s fair hair, and realized that life didn’t just take away. It gave back too.
The nurse had snapped a photo of the four of them, Callie, Rory and Kevin grinning like fools with Angel sleeping peacefully in her mother’s arms. That was the framed picture that sat on Callie’s nightstand. It was the one he couldn’t bear to look at right now.
Callie had kicked him and Rory out of the hospital room around three a.m. that night, demanding that they go home and get some sleep. They’d gone back to his place.
*
They weren’t two steps in the door before Rory was on him, wrapped around him like a spider monkey, kissing him, clawing at him. Even though she’d been home a few weeks, the two of them had still been dealing with their grief over Keith’s death and concerns for Callie’s pregnancy. The diabetes put her at high risk, and Kevin knew Rory was terrified for her sister.
That fear had clearly abated, now that Callie and Angel were safe and sound and sleeping peacefully at the hospital.
“Want you,” she said, trying to get her hands under his shirt, anxious for skin on skin.
Kevin didn’t bother resisting. Shit. He wanted her just as badly. Maybe even more. He’d been so fucking angry since Keith’s death. He had been alone and aching with no outlet for…any of the emotions closing in on him.
“Rory,” he said, feeling a need to take things to a level she might not want to travel to.
Her legs dropped back to the floor and she took a step away from him. They were both breathing heavily, and he noticed the same ravenous look in her eye.
“We’re going to fuck, Kevin. Hard. I love when you’re sweet and shit, but tonight…” She shook her head slowly as if fighting to find the words.
She didn’t need to bother.
He grasped her hand, dragging her toward the living room. The bedroom upstairs was too damn far away.
Kevin twisted her away from him, reaching around to undo her jeans. They worked together to get her out of the tight denim. Then he pressed on her upper back, bending her over the arm of the couch.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her long, black wavy hair dangling as those bright blue eyes dared him to do his worst. Jesus, she was perfect for him. The yin to his yang. The peanut to his butter.
He unfastened his pants, pulled out his cock and thrust deep inside without a second of preamble. Rory was hot and wet and completely ready for him.
She’d also meant what she said. He gripped her hips, holding on to her as they fucked, but he was by no means in control. Rory was pushing toward him on every return trip, ratcheting the force of their coupling higher and higher.
She arched her back, ensuring he slid in even deeper.
“Pull my hair,” she demanded. His hands had already been halfway there. He twisted the long strands, using his grip to pull her back toward his chest as he continued to pound inside her.
Rory reached behind her, digging her nails into his thighs, only the material of his pants protecting him. Otherwise, his wildcat would have drawn blood.
“So. Fucking. Good.” Her words were punctuated with each thrust.
Kevin was too close and in no mood to try to prolong anything. He needed to come. And she was going down with him.
He loosened his hold in her hair, dropping one hand to her breast and the other to her clit. A couple squeezes, a few strokes, and then she was there, her pussy muscles clenching so tight against his cock he saw stars as he came.
Less than a minute later, reality crashed in.
“Shit, Rory.”
His tone must have alerted her to his concern. She turned to him, pulling his face toward hers for a kiss. “I’m on birth control.”
He pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. “The past few months,” he murmured.
“Have been fucking horrible,” she replied.
“Tonight,” he started.
“Was the best night ever. Did you see that baby? She’s…God, she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
He grinned. “She has your eyes.”
Rory snorted. “Which are also the same as Callie’s eyes. You know, her mother’s.”
Kevin tightened his arms around her. “Everything is better when you’re here.”
Her face was tucked against his chest, so he couldn’t read her expression when she said, “I have to leave again soon.”
Even though Kevin knew his time with her was limited, it never seemed to take away the sting of saying goodbye.
“I know.”
*
After that, they moved to the bedroom, and the second time he took her was softer
, gentler, his own unspoken way of showing her how much he cared about her.
And a week after that, Rory had hit the road again.
Chapter Three
Rory stood in Callie’s room, looking around at the space without moving. She’d been there a full twenty minutes and she’d yet to do a single thing. They had lain her sister to rest two weeks earlier. Every single one of those fourteen days had passed in a complete haze, as she and Kevin struggled to create some sort of new normal that would jive with Angel’s old normal.
As such, they’d both remained at Callie’s house. She had claimed the guest room her first night in town as Kevin insisted on taking the couch. Every night, the three of them ate dinner together, they played games, they took turns giving Angel baths, and then the three of them sprawled out on their sweet baby’s bed to read bedtime stories to her.
Angel became the center of their universe because, while everything else between her and Kevin was completely up in the air, there was no question their niece was the most important thing.
As the days passed, the tears grew less. Last night was the first time, Angel had slept through the entire night without waking up crying out for her mommy. Every time Rory heard her sad, broken little voice seeking out the person she wanted most, who was never coming back, it broke her heart. She and Kevin would crawl into Angel’s bed and Rory would sing her back to sleep. Then, more often than not, Kevin would tuck Rory into bed afterwards, wiping away her tears and offering her a comforting kiss on the forehead.
She couldn’t imagine how she would have survived a day of this unending pain without him. If left to her own devices, she feared she and Angel would have remained holed up in the dark for months without end. Kevin was the one who put them all on a schedule, who planned out their days and then kept them going through the motions. He promised her that after a while it wouldn’t feel like hard work. And so, to that end, last week, they’d taken Angel back to preschool and Kevin had returned to work.
Which left Rory alone every day in her sister’s house, eating too much ice cream and watching way too much reality TV, while trying to deal with overwhelming grief. There was no question in her mind that Angel and Kevin were bouncing back better than her, and she was ashamed of herself for that.
This morning, after dropping Angel off at preschool, Rory realized why they were mending quicker. Kevin and Angel had gotten back into their normal routines, while she’d been hiding out and wallowing in a heavy sadness that simply wouldn’t lift.
Nothing about Hope Falls fit into what had been her standard life for the past decade. She was starting from scratch. Or at least, she would be. Once she started something.
Baby steps, she decided.
She had returned to the house, determined that everything would change today. It was silly for Kevin to sleep on the couch every night when there was another bedroom in the house. If he was determined to stay here rather than return to his own place, then they needed to stop avoiding Callie’s room.
Armed with trash bags and boxes, Rory decided it was time to pack up her sister’s stuff, so the healing could begin. Anything she thought Angel might want would be stored in the attic, while Callie’s clothing would go to Goodwill.
It had been a solid plan. Until she took two steps inside Callie’s bedroom and froze. Her gaze traveled over the brightly patterned quilt their mother had made for Callie as a high school graduation present. Rory had gotten one as well, and she could only assume it was in the storage facility she had been renting for nearly a decade just outside Chicago. In truth, she hadn’t seen her own quilt in ages.
There was a rocking chair near the window that Rory recognized as another keepsake from their childhood home, as was their mother’s jewelry box and the small baby booty that had belonged to their dad, sitting side by side on Callie’s dresser.
Rory took it all in, trying to recall what items she had taken from their parents’ home after their deaths. While Rory kept her past stowed away in boxes, Callie kept their parents’ memories alive, displaying the things she obviously valued.
Suddenly, Rory was anxious to make a trip to Chicago, to move everything out of that storage unit here. To open the boxes and pull out all the things she’d foolishly locked away.
Yet another sacrifice she’d unwittingly made in her pursuit of fame. Her past, her relationship with her sister, her chance at a real romance with Kevin. She’d pushed it all aside to chase a dream that she didn’t even want once she’d gotten it.
So many wasted years.
It was strange how much more clearly she could see her life now. The worst part was she wanted to share her epiphany with Callie, but she couldn’t. Her sister’s death had left a huge gaping hole inside her. One she’d never be able to fill again.
The front door opened downstairs, the sound of Kevin’s keys being tossed onto a table in the foyer a familiar one now. She glanced at the clock and wondered if he’d forgotten something. It was only 9:30—too early for lunch or quitting time.
She heard him climbing the stairs, turning just as he reached the doorway to Callie’s room. He looked tired, with dark circles and deep lines under his eyes, betraying his inability to get a good night’s sleep on the couch. Not that his evident exhaustion marred his attractiveness. The man had only gotten hotter with each passing year. He cut his hair even shorter now and paired it with an extremely close-cut shave that was more five o’clock shadow than beard. She was embarrassed by how many times in the past few days she’d longed to reach out and stroke that sexy scruff. Apart from comforting hugs, Kevin hadn’t sought to touch her in any deeper, more meaningful way. Not that she blamed him.
For one thing, they were both still knee-deep in their mourning. And for another, she’d dropkicked his heart. If anything, she deserved his disdain, rather than this kind, friendly man who’d put his own hurt aside to help her cope with Callie’s death.
“You’re home early.”
He nodded. “Yeah. I…” He sighed. “I can’t do this anymore, Rory. We need to talk.”
She understood what was bothering him because she felt the same way. They’d been sleepwalking through the past two weeks, avoiding too many issues, not saying anything that really needed to be said.
“Okay.” She looked around Callie’s room, postponing her plans.
Then Kevin realized where they were. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was going to pack up Callie’s things. I think I’m going to start sleeping in here, so you can move off that couch.”
“Oh.” His brows creased, his eyes sad. “Do you want help?”
She shook her head. “No. It can wait until tomorrow. It wasn’t as easy as… I think I’d really like to get out of here. Get some fresh air.”
“Come on. I think I know just the thing.” He took her hand and led her to the garage. She wasn’t sure of his intent until he pulled a drop cloth off her beloved motorcycle.
Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. I forgot that was here.” She’d bought the bike as a gift to herself after recording her first record with the Road Rebels. Callie had called her insane, claiming it was ridiculous to spend so much money on something she would rarely have time to ride, but Rory had gone ahead with the purchase, and the motorcycle was one of her most beloved possessions.
“Thought you had. It’s a gorgeous day. What do you say we go for a ride?”
She walked to the bike and ran her hand over the seat. Then she tugged the keys from the ignition and handed them to him. “You want to drive it?”
Kevin grinned as he straddled the seat. “Hell yeah. Pop the garage door open and let’s do this.”
Once the bike was outside, Rory closed the garage door and climbed on behind Kevin, wrapping her arms loosely around his waist. For the first time in a long time, Rory had a sense of the world correcting itself. After weeks—no, months—of life feeling “off,” sitting on this motorcycle with her body pressed against Kevin’s felt right. Ever since learning of Callie’s de
ath, it was like she was wearing ice cubes for clothing. She’d been frozen, numb. Now, as Kevin revved the engine and sped up when they hit the highway, she was warm again. Actually, she was pretty freaking hot.
They rode for several miles before he took the turnoff that would lead them to the Riverside Recreation area. Once they were there, he parked the bike and they climbed off, walking toward the path that ambled by the river.
Kevin clearly had something on his mind, but she needed to speak first. Actually, no. There was something she needed to do first.
She turned to face him, reaching up to pull his face toward hers. Before he could react, she’d placed her lips on his, kissing him.
Kevin stood stock-still for a full thirty seconds before burying his hands in her hair and deepening the kiss. He pressed her lips open with his, his tongue seeking. She welcomed him inside as she tugged the hem of his shirt from his pants. He was dressed for work—looking exactly like the accountant she had described the night of Keith and Callie’s wedding—wearing nice slacks, a button-down dress shirt and tie.
However, he had strayed from what she considered the norm, trading his sports jacket for a leather one. As always, she looked like his polar opposite with her torn jeans, faded black T-shirt, tats and piercings. The only thing they had in common was the leather jacket.
Once she’d pulled his shirt free, she tucked her hands beneath the cotton, desperate to touch skin.
Kevin must have felt the same need, as his hands started to roam as well. He cupped her breasts through her shirt, squeezing them firmly. Throughout the years, they’d expanded on their sexual games, turning up the heat with each return engagement. He’d introduced her to nipple clamps one Thanksgiving, and she’d bought him a pair of handcuffs for his birthday one year, securing him to the bed while tormenting him with the longest blow job in history. Her pussy clenched as she recalled the way Kevin had pulled her over his lap after she’d released him and spanked her into an orgasm.
Kevin’s hands drifted lower, cupping her ass as he pulled her against him, letting her feel his erection. They’d been idiots to leave the privacy of the house.
