The Most Eligible Bachelor

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The Most Eligible Bachelor Page 8

by Bella Winters


  I’d had a blast the other day, and was actually hoping to invite her to breakfast, maybe convince her to show me a little bit more of the country side. The truth was, I couldn’t care less about Ludwig, and sightseeing was probably going to take me twenty minutes, tops. I could probably be through the entire town and back at the motel before she was even done replacing the flowers. It was the company that I craved. I wanted to be with Ashlyn in every conceivable way.

  I looked at my watch, the cheap Timex my mom had given me for high school graduation, then back out at the road leading up to the motel, slowly sipping on my coffee. It felt strange to be anticipating someone’s arrival this much. The last person I had looked forward to meeting was the CEO of a small company we had purchased a few years back, and the only reason then was because she was hot as hell. We eventually came to an agreement, and she came screaming my name.

  But this was different. I wasn’t even thinking of Ashlyn that way, which struck me as odd. All I wanted to do was have a cup of coffee and talk, which sounded pretty lame in my head, but didn’t change my attitude towards it. If Alice could see me now. She would probably ask me where I had left my balls.

  “Isn’t she usually on time?” I asked Chuck, no longer trying to hide my anxiety.

  Chuck laughed. “She doesn’t really keep any specific time,” he said. “She should be here by now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she decided to skip a day. Sometimes you just wake up and don’t really feel like doing anything.”

  That didn’t sound like Ashlyn, though. Yesterday she had been full of life, ready to take on anyone and everything. It didn’t seem like her. Granted, I didn’t really know much about her, and who was to say that she hadn’t decided to kick back and relax for a day. Still, it felt odd.

  “If it’ll make you feel any better, I could give her a call,” Chuck offered.

  “That’s okay,” I said, although I did like the idea.

  “No, you’re right,” Chuck said, picking up his phone and sliding his finger across the screen. “Martha would have called her by now. No hurt in checking up.”

  I stood up, downed the rest of my coffee and stepped outside to light a cigarette, but stopped myself before putting fire to the tip. The only other tenant in the motel had made an appearance today, sitting by the pool, hurriedly scribbling something in a pad on his lap. I toyed with the idea of going for a swim to kill the time, or at least build an appetite before I passed by the diner again.

  “Hey,” Chuck stuck his head out the door. “No answer. I say she’s probably still sleeping.”

  I tried to act nonchalant, but I had started to worry just a little. I had no idea why, but it was there. Are you falling for this girl?

  “I think I’ll check on Hank,” I said. “See how far he’s come with the truck.”

  “In a hurry to get out of here already?” Chuck smiled.

  “No, not at all,” I chuckled. “But I do have to keep moving if I want to make that meeting in Houston.”

  Chuck only nodded and disappeared back into the office. I stuck the unlit cigarette back into the pack and made my way to Hank’s.

  Has it been two days already?” Hank asked when I stepped into the small garage. He had the hood of the Chevy up, but the real work seemed to be going into an old Ford Fairlane parked to one side. Tools littered the floor around it, and the engine hung dangerously above the hood, balanced on chains that seemed to groan in protest.

  “Just checking up on the old girl,” I said.

  Hank wiped his hands on his overalls and made his way to a desktop in the corner. His fingers flew across the keyboard at an impressive pace, and windows popped up and closed like a flash on the screen.

  “Should be here in the morning,” Hank said, squinting as he read his invoice. “Like I said, UPS comes once a week. I could probably take my truck and pick it up if you’re in a hurry.”

  “No hurry,” I said. “That’s fine.”

  “Enjoying your stay so far?”

  Hank slumped down in the chair in front of his computer and used his grease rag to wipe the sweat from his brow. Although the weather was warm outside, the garage itself felt like a furnace. I could already feel beads of sweat running down the line of my back.

  “So far,” I smiled, when a sudden thought struck me. “That truck of yours, do you need it over the next few hours?”

  “Thinking of going on a road trip, Mr. Ridder?”

  I shook my head. “Want to check on a friend,” I said. “She hasn’t shown up today, and I’m a bit worried.”

  Hank squinted at me for a few seconds, then nodded and tossed me a set of keys. “She gives a nasty kick when you start her up, so be careful,” he said.

  “Thanks, Hank.”

  “No problem,” he said. “Glad you’ve made friends so quickly.”

  I waved and walked out the garage.

  I drove the way to Ashlyn’s from memory alone, although I knew that if I stopped to ask for directions, I’d be pointed the right way. I didn’t need to do that, though. As soon as I was off the main road and had managed to find the dirt road with the red marker, it was a straight drive all the way up to her house.

  Her truck was parked by the side of the house, the tarp drawn and the back empty. I pulled up beside it, peering through the windshield at the greenhouse in hopes of seeing her moving about inside. The plants made it impossible for me to make anything out, but either way, the door was closed with the padlock still hanging from outside.

  Maybe Chuck’s right. She could still be asleep.

  “Then there’s no harm in making sure, is there?” I asked myself as I climbed out of the truck and slammed the door behind me, hoping that the sound would announce my arrival before I knocked on the front door.

  I had barely made it up the front porch when she stepped out, the screen door swinging closed behind her. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and her hair fell across half her face. She looked gorgeous, despite the fact that her smile seemed a little forced and her eyes didn’t shine as much as they had the other day.

  You’re overstepping. You fucking idiot, maybe she didn’t want to see you today. Why are you acting like a love struck, high school nerd?

  “Hey,” I greeted, stopping at the bottom of the porch steps.

  “Morning, Sabbatical,” she joked, although I could see it wasn’t genuine. She was being nice, and I felt like a fool.

  Turn around, go back to the motel, and remember that women chase you, not the other way around.

  I ignored the voice in my head. I didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because I had enjoyed her company. Maybe it was because I needed a friend who wasn’t humoring me because I was rich. Whatever it was, I felt like I would have chased her to the ends of Texas if I had to.

  Which pissed me off. Just a little.

  “Afternoon, actually,” I said. “Missed you at the motel this morning. Thought I’d check up on you.”

  She smiled, genuinely this time. “What did you do, walk here?”

  “Hank lent me his truck.”

  Her eyes widened. “Hank? Really?” She shook her head. “He must really like you.”

  “I guess so,” I said. “Looks like you’re taking a little sabbatical of your own.”

  She shrugged. “Didn’t feel like work this morning.”

  “Do you feel like coffee, then?” I asked. “My treat.”

  She gazed at me, rocking slightly on her feet and biting her lip. The silence lasted long enough to make things awkward.

  “Ashlyn?”

  I caught the tear that ran down her cheek before she could wipe it away, and I was up the stairs in two strides, holding her by the arms. “What’s wrong?”

  She looked away from me, her lower lip shaking slightly as she bit down hard and tried to maintain her composure. I tried to get her to look at me, and that’s when I saw the bruise on her cheek. I frowned, pushing her hair back, only now realizing that the locks hadn’t fallen across her face like tha
t by mistake.

  She pulled away from me quickly, readjusting the hair to cover her bruise.

  “Is that what I think it is?” I asked.

  “It’s nothing.”

  I couldn’t fathom how she could have gotten it. It looked like the result of a nasty beating, only I had been with her for most of yesterday, and I couldn’t imagine when someone could have done that to her.

  “Did someone hit you?” I asked.

  “It’s nothing, Chance, seriously,” she said, stepping back from me. “I appreciate you coming here to check up on me, and tell Chuck I’m sorry I missed his call. I’ll call him back later. But right now, I’m just really tired. Can we do coffee another day?”

  “Ashlyn, what’s going on?”

  “Chance, please,” she said, tears welling in her eyes and falling down her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away. “I just want to be alone.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said, shaking my head and following her retreat. “I can’t just leave you like this.”

  “Yes, you can!” she yelled, and I stopped cold. She looked at me with a mix of sorrow and anger, like I had somehow embarrassed her or something. “You don’t even know me. You don’t owe me anything. Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She was crying freely now, and I had no idea what to do other than what my instincts were telling me to. I closed the distance between us, grabbed her by her arms and pulled her in, wrapping my arms around her tight.

  She resisted, for the briefest of moments, then her body went limp and her shoulders shook with her sobs. Her cries came in short gasps and whimpers, and I pressed her tighter against me, burying my face in her hair as I tried to calm her.

  “Shhh,” I cooed. “It’s going to be alright. Whatever it is, it’s going to be alright. I’m right here.”

  I had no idea just how convincing I sounded, but what I did know for sure was that my blood was boiling. I was skeptical at first, but her reaction told me everything I needed to know. In the hours between last night and now, someone had obviously come here and decided to use her for punching practice. The only question was who.

  Her sobbing had eased, and she softly pushed away from me, sniffing as she wiped her tears and turned away from me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Not exactly the way I wanted you to see me today.”

  “Ashlyn –”

  “Chance, it’s alright. Thank you, really, but this isn’t something you can help with,” she said. “Actually, I wouldn’t feel comfortable bringing you into the middle of it at all. Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale. “How about this?” I started. “You invite me in, I make us both some coffee, and we pretend that we’re at the diner without having to leave the house at all. Then, when you feel comfortable enough, you can tell me what the hell happened.”

  She looked at me for a beat, then looked away, biting her lip again. It would have looked cute if not for the bruise on the side of her face and the tears in her eyes.

  “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” she said.

  “Sure it is,” I insisted. “Besides, what do you have to lose? I’m going to be leaving town in a day or two anyway. It’s not like I’m going to be spreading gossip or anything.”

  “You don’t seem like the gossip type,” she smiled.

  “I’m not,” I replied. “I could just really use some coffee right now.”

  She smiled softly, and it was good to see the cheerfulness in her eyes. “Fine, coffee it is.”

  She led me inside.

  10

  Ashlyn

  For some reason, I told Chance everything. It took two pots of coffee and several hours, but I spilled it all. He just smiled and listened and held my hand and let me talk. It felt wonderful.

  I told him about Earl and my miserable marriage, about Earl’s family money and its influence in Ludwig, about Earl harassing me and his daddy thinking his money could make the problem go away. And of course, I told him about Earl breaking in and trying to rape me.

  Chance listened quietly and intently, only interrupting me to ask for some clarification before letting me continue. He was appalled by the Sheriff’s inability to do anything, or refusal thereof. I knew that Earl would walk away that morning with only a slap on the wrist, and although that had pissed me off, it angered Chance even more. He had also been confused as to how news of this morning hadn’t reached the motel. With a town this small, he or Chuck should have heard something. But, as always, the Sheriff had snuffed out any news from spreading before it had even reached the station’s front door.

  Through it all, though, I had started feeling much better. It was good to have someone to talk to who wasn’t directly involved. It was different than talking to anyone else in Ludwig, who, in one way or the other, was associated with the Greene’s. And telling Chuck would have probably resulted in a fist fight at the bar and the eventual wrath of the Greene’s on his motel. Both of which I did not want.

  With Chance, though, opening up just felt right. It was awkward at first, but by the time my story had gained momentum, I was talking freely and without remorse. There was no judgment in his eyes, no look of pity that I usually got from everyone else. There was only intent interest and a warm air of concern.

  By the time I was done, the sun was sinking low in the afternoon sky, and we had fallen into a deep silence that was both comforting and a little uneasy. I had expected some sort of reaction from him once I was done, but all he did was hold my hand, squeeze it and offer a comforting smile. I began to wonder if he was looking at me in a different light, if maybe he was thinking that being with me here was a little too much of a liability, especially since he was supposed to be gone within a day or two. He didn’t need trouble, and I certainly didn’t want to be the reason for it.

  He surprised me, though, when he finally spoke up and told me that he would spend the night on the couch to keep me safe. I thought it was probably the stupidest idea in the world, and told him that, too. He wouldn’t let up, and although I continued to protest, he just shook away my resistance and told me that he had already made up his mind.

  “I already called my lawyer,” I said. “Another incident like today and he said he could have Earl picked up and sent to jail for thirty days.”

  “And I’m supposed to wait for him to do that again?” Chance asked, frowning at me as if I were a child who had just made the most ridiculous statement ever.

  “You don’t have to do anything,” I said, frowning at him. “This isn’t your fight.”

  “Whatever,” Chance said. “I’m staying. I just need to get Hank’s truck back. Do you mind following me into town so we can drive back together?”

  “I’m not going to do this,” I protested.

  “Yes, you are,” Chance replied. “Or I’ll just stay here, and if Hank asks, I’ll tell him it’s your fault he was down one truck for the night.”

  I sighed, bit my lip and finally nodded. “Fine.”

  “And the motel.”

  “What about it?”

  “I need to pass by and get some stuff for the night.”

  I shook my head quickly. “If Chuck sees me, he’ll know it was Earl who hit me, and he’ll try and do something about it. I don’t want that to happen.”

  “Then wait for me at Hank’s and I’ll walk to the motel and back,” he said. “I’ll be back in five minutes and we can drive up here right away. No one has to know you were in town.”

  “Hank will know.”

  He smiled. “Hank’s good at keeping secrets, don’t worry.”

  How he knew that, I had no idea.

  I lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling as I thought about Chance downstairs. Everything had gone as planned, and as promised, we didn’t bring any unwanted attention to us. By the time I was ready to sleep, Chance had set himself up on the couch in the living room to be as close to the door as possible if Earl did decide to show up again.
r />   I thought it was sweet. And charming. And everything else that made my stomach flutter like butterflies. He didn’t have to do this, but just knowing he was downstairs made me feel a lot better. Although it did feel odd having someone else in the house. I wondered what it would be like in the morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I had breakfast with someone in my own kitchen, let alone Chance.

  Let’s just hope he isn’t some serial killer, okay?

  I smiled to myself. This was so unlike me. It was true, I hardly knew the man, but he made me feel safe, and that was all that mattered really. I found it strange that I was scared of a man I had been married to for a few years, yet felt unbelievably comfortable around another I had only known for two days.

  Serial killer or not, I wanted him downstairs. A part of me wanted him upstairs, too.

  Why not invite him upstairs, then? He’s already here. God knows you could use a good time. When’s the last time you felt a man inside you? A man who really cared?

  “Never,” I whispered. I closed my eyes, letting the voice in my head play with my thoughts just a little. It was odd how close I felt to Chance, how open I had been to him. There was just something about him, a quality that made me weak in the knees. Hot, sure. Tall and handsome, double check. But that wasn’t all. The fact that he had sat down and listened to me the way he had, that just gave him a completely different edge that far surpassed the line of sexy. A part of me wished we had more time together.

  Then use the time you have.

  I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. I pondered the thought, long and hard, and just thinking about Chance holding me, his hands all over my body, made me a little wet. I closed my legs and curled onto my side, trying to think of anything else to get my mind off the absurdity of what I was considering.

  But it wouldn’t go away.

  Now or never, girl. Get your ass up and at him.

  I made up my mind instantly, threw the covers off, and rolled out of bed. The hardwood floor was warm against my bare feet, and I quickly made my way down the hall. I hesitated at the top of the staircase. What if he didn’t want me that way? What if this was a one-way street? I couldn’t bear the thought of being embarrassed in my own house. If he turned me down, it would be impossible to avoid him until he left.

 

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