Bring Me Back

by Jessie Gussman

  “Okay.”

  He and the twins had taken turns doing the cooking.

  He followed her back downstairs, wondering why she had started wringing her hands together. Was he making her nervous? Or did she need to shake him so she could...make a call or something else?

  They walked into the big farm kitchen. “There are always drinks in this fridge.” She pointed to a big stainless steel appliance. “You’re welcome to use the stove. There should be supplies in here, and if you don’t have what you need or want, leave a note on the counter for Judy, and she’ll see that we have it.” Riley went on, pointing out the coffeepot, the microwave, and what was in each drawer. She hadn’t chattered this much all day.

  Her face was tight, and her movements jerky.

  “What’s up?” He cut into her monologue.

  She stopped talking abruptly but didn’t turn from where she stood in front of the dishwasher. She’d actually opened it and was telling him how to run it. Like he couldn’t find the start button on his own.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her head still down.

  He walked to the other side of the island and leaned his forearms on it. It didn’t surprise him when she moved back until her hip hit the counter.

  “That’s what I mean.” Had she suddenly decided he was a serial killer?

  She swallowed; her hands gripped the counter behind her.

  “Is it me making you nervous?” He straightened, leaning a hip against the island and crossing his arms over his chest.

  She jutted her chin out. “It did occur to me that we are alone and this is a remote area—”

  “Okay,” he interrupted her again and pushed off from the counter. “I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning. What time?”

  He paused at the kitchen doorway and looked back when she didn’t answer.

  He’d never seen her look miserable before. Both lips were caught between her teeth. The confident businesswoman who he saw almost every day at the shop had totally disappeared.

  Putting a hand on the doorway, he waited. Finally, she looked up, her eyes narrowed. She moved slowly around the counter and stopped in front of him. He didn’t move. Half annoyed, half caught up in her scent and the attraction that had leapt to life between them.

  He wasn’t going to touch her. She’d as much as said she thought he’d jump her since they were alone together. Like he really was a caveman with no restraint. Maybe he should have made a snide comment about why anyone would want to, but he couldn’t insult her like that. She might look strong, but words like that hurt. Not to mention, they weren’t true. He didn’t know what, exactly, he felt for her, but he couldn’t hurt her. Not with his words, not with his actions, not with his hands. He gripped the polished doorframe.

  She had stopped right in front of him. The silence in the kitchen screamed in protest. His heart thumped. Her confident, feminine scent drifted like soft butterflies around his nose. He breathed it in, and it hit his lungs, sweet and full. His eyes lowered, searching her face, reading the red on her cheeks, the pink of her tongue as it touched her bottom lip, the sweep of her lashes, and the arch of her neck.

  She didn’t touch him but was so close their breaths mingled when she looked up. He didn’t move.

  Lines appeared on her forehead. “I’m sorry. Please don’t go.”

  He opened his mouth. She placed a hand on his chest. To stop him? To keep him quiet? Whatever the intention, it had the effect like water on a hot skillet. It surprised him that there was no sizzle and no steam. His chest burned. He clenched his jaw shut.

  “I trust you. What I just said was stupid. It bothers me that I actually trust you more than any person I know. Anyone. And we’re not even really on the same side. I mean, yes, I’m helping you and you’re helping me, but it’s not like we even really like each other that much. It made me nervous. Why do I trust you?” She looked down. “And everyone I’ve ever trusted before has let me down.”

  It was ironic that the only woman he’d ever allowed close to him was the one who had stabbed him in the heart and was now the one who stood in front of him, telling him she trusted him more than anyone else in the world. The irony almost overrode the electricity that snapped between them. Almost.

  “I know how that feels,” he said, his voice more gravelly and rough than an old motor on a cold morning.

  Recognition flashed across her face. He almost felt bad for the jab, but he needed the distance it provided. Although he couldn’t move out from under her hand; he wanted to cover it with his own and press it closer to his heart.

  “I’m sorry for that, too.”

  “It was a long time ago, and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “It was the worst mistake of my life.”

  It had been the hardest trial of his. He’d lost his mother. He’d run away from his father. He’d accepted the responsibility for his sisters and lied to be able to work full-time to support them while still going to school. He’d done it all and gone through everything, but nothing had hurt like the betrayal of the woman in front of him.

  He wasn’t about to tell her that.

  Instead he lifted her hand, wrapping his own around it, feeling the rubber O-ring that had taken the place of a real ring. Whatever he’d been going to say or do flew from his mind when he touched her finger.

  “I think we need to go buy you a ring before we do anything else tomorrow.”

  “I have a ring from my grandmother that I brought with me. I didn’t think about it before the wedding, but when I was packing, I found it...” Several beats of loaded silence fell between them. “I would have put it on, but I didn’t want you to think...” She trailed off, yet again.

  “Think what?” he prompted.

  “Think, first of all, that the ring you gave me wasn’t good enough. And secondly, I didn’t want you to get upset and think that I...that I was trying to make this,” she motioned between them, “us, real.”

  “Wear your grandmother’s ring. I appreciate the consideration for my feelings. The line between fake and real seems to blur and shift. It’s hard to decipher where it’s actually at sometimes.” As he spoke, their hands seemed to move with minds of their own, and they shifted. Their fingers threaded together. Heat traveled up his arm to his elbow. He was playing with fire, no doubt.

  If he were one of his sisters, he’d tell her to get a hotel room and spend the night reinforcing her heart with concrete.

  Instead, here he stood, staring into Riley’s eyes and allowing her to take another chunk out of the barrier protecting his scarred and broken heart.

  He dropped his hand from the doorframe and at the same time pulled his fingers away from hers. “It’s been a long day. That’s a heck of a drive, and I didn’t snore the afternoon away.”

  “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of snoring.”

  “I knew I should have videotaped it.”

  Her mouth opened and closed. “You’d better not have!”

  He grinned then headed toward the stairs. “I didn’t.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  There had hardly ever been a time in his life where he couldn’t eat. But he needed distance. He needed to remind himself that he didn’t like Riley and that she’d choose her dad and his company over him again if she had the chance. Obviously, she was still his greatest weakness. Today had shown him that if nothing else. He needed to refocus and regroup.

  “I’m more tired than anything else.” He put a hand on the banister and started up the stairs. “It’s a beautiful house. Thanks for letting me stay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night.” Was there a wishful tone in her voice, or maybe it was his imagination? He wasn’t sure. He couldn’t let it matter.

  Chapter 13

  Dawn was breaking when Riley went out for her run. She’d measured the distance and had run the same path many times over the years when she’d stayed at the old farmhouse. Somehow today it seemed different.

  She cou
ld blame it on the ring she wore or the fact that today was the first day of her new position and trying to get this terminal not only in the black but to the top of the company. But it wasn’t any of that.

  It was the look in Ben’s eyes last night as he’d held her hand and she’d admitted that what she’d done to him had been her biggest mistake. When she’d rejected him, brutally and publicly, she knew it hurt him. It had killed her, and she wasn’t even on the receiving end.

  Last night, from the look in his eyes before he’d shifted and it had disappeared, she’d realized that the pain was still there.

  As she jogged back up the lane, the object of her thoughts stood outside in a t-shirt, leaning against the side of his pickup, his arms crossed over his chest and his muscles bulging, talking to Jason, the caretaker. Something Ben said made Jason throw his head back and laugh. They were probably about the same age. Jason was a little less husky, slightly taller. Ben looked more rugged, especially dressed for work in his black t-shirt and dark jeans and work boots. Jason wore the uniform of the caretakers—a green polo and dark khaki pants.

  They laughed again. This time, Ben’s gaze sharpened as he saw her jogging up the drive. His whole body seemed to stiffen, and his eyes lasered on her. Self-consciousness wasn’t something she was normally plagued with, but she suddenly had the urge to check to see if her long-sleeved tee and tights were on correctly. Her hair bounced around in a ponytail, and she wore no makeup. Sweat dripped down her temple, and her face was probably beet red from the exertion and cold.

  Tempted to jog right by, she stopped, panting with her hands on her knees. She wasn’t trying to look good for him. She shouldn’t care what he thought. Even if she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind.

  “Hey, Riley,” Jason said pleasantly. He’d been a dependable worker for several years now. His family owned a lawn care service, and he worked on that on the side. A good, conscientious worker.

  “Jason,” she said. She almost had her breathing under control. “How have you been?”

  “Just fine. I was telling Ben that Judy thought she saw a mouse yesterday in the hall, and I thought she was going to climb out that little window at the top of the stairs.”

  Riley shivered. “A mouse?”

  “Turned out it was a dust ball that a draft had skittered along the floor. She squealed like the entire Second Brigade was after her.”

  “I think I might have too.”

  “You’d probably look just as funny as she did trying to climb the wall to get away from it.”

  “I don’t think I’d climb the wall. Just run down the steps, maybe, then get a blowtorch or something and burn the house down to get rid of it.” Riley wiped the sweat off her forehead and shook her legs out.

  “Wow.” Ben’s lips curved up. “Do you think you’ll wake me up first? Or should I invest in a box of smoke detectors?”

  She looking up, meeting his smiling eyes. A warmth that had nothing to do with her run settled in her chest. “I’ll wake you up unless the mouse runs into your room. That happens, you’re on your own.”

  He lifted a brow. “Thanks.”

  Shaking the feeling of comfortable familiarity that had wrapped around her heart, she started for the house.

  “I started coffee. Wasn’t sure whether you drank it or not...”

  “You mean you guys are married and you don’t know whether she drinks coffee in the morning?” Jason asked incredulously.

  Riley jerked to a stop.

  Ben froze.

  Then Jason got a smirky grin on his face. “Ha ha. I guess you guys have been too busy in the morning doing other things to worry about drinking coffee. Guess I have a lot to look forward to.”

  He smacked Ben with a resounding thwack and headed back across the yard. “I can tell when I’m not wanted. I’ll tell Judy to hang out over here with me for a while.” His laugh carried back across the grass.

  Riley met Ben’s stare. “Sorry,” he said softly.

  She shook her head. “Not your fault. Us not knowing each other could make things awkward at times.”

  He stepped up beside her, and they walked into the house together. “You know, I never asked what your dad said when you told him we were married.”

  Riley paused, her foot on the top porch step. “I didn’t tell him.”

  “What?” Ben’s voice was sharp.

  Riley tried to dismiss it, although it wasn’t something that could be brushed off, and she knew it. “I didn’t tell him.” She shrugged.

  If Ben’s eyes could shoot poison-laced arrows, she’d be dead. He finally moved to open the door for her. “When, exactly, were you going to tell him?”

  “I guess I’ll do it today.”

  “You guess? So, like, you were going to keep this from him?”

  “No.” That wasn’t a bad idea actually. “Unless you think we can.”

  The door slammed shut much harder than necessary. Riley knew she was being unreasonable, but telling her dad that she’d gotten married the way she had wouldn’t have been easy in any circumstances. Telling him she had married a mechanic...that she’d married Ben...

  “You’re afraid.” Ben stated the obvious in a tone of voice that left no confusion as to how he felt. But she didn’t really understand why he was so upset. After all, it wasn’t like they were going to stay married. If she could keep it from her dad for six months, she and Ben would go their separate ways, and her dad would be none the wiser. It wasn’t like her dad cared about anything but his business anyway.

  The thought of Ben leaving ruined her good mood. She went to the counter and poured a coffee, setting it on the table. Then she went to the sink and filled a glass of water. She took a couple big gulps of the water.

  Ben crossed his arms and leaned against the counter.

  “Yeah. It’s not going to go over well.” She looked him in the eye. “Dad doesn’t always pay that much attention to me, and even though he’ll be at the same complex, my office is in a different building. I might only see him once or twice a week, and even then, we’ll only discuss business. I can see him not even noticing that we’re married for the six months that we agreed on.” It was all business all the time for him. He’d come to her high school graduation, but mainly because he’d been the speaker. He’d missed her college graduation. She honestly wasn’t sure he knew he missed it.

  “You’re saying you don’t want to tell him?” Ben hadn’t moved.

  She nodded. “I definitely don’t want to tell him. I’m saying I think I could get away with not. And if he notices,” she shrugged, “I can cross that bridge then.”

  “So, we’ll play the married thing down while we’re at work, and we’ll play it up while we’re with my family?” There was a hard edge to his voice that had never been there before. She ignored it.

  “That would be great. But—” She held up a finger. “I know that our agreement was we’d get married, I’d be your wife, you’d come to Pennsylvania and help me here at Coleman. If it comes down to a choice, I will never pretend to not be married. I’d just like to see if I can get away without telling Dad.”

  He rolled that around in his head. Convoluted logic, she knew. But it could work.

  She could tell he didn’t like the idea by the twist of his lips and the way he turned his head away. A muscle in his jaw popped in and out.

  Riley watched, fascinated. He was angry. It wasn’t his anger that fascinated her, though. It was the fact that she wasn’t afraid of it. Not like she was of her dad’s anger. Her dad wouldn’t hurt her, but when he was angry, it was hard to tell what exactly he’d do. Ben’s controlled anger was actually soothing. A refreshing change.

  “I never even thought I should have gotten his permission.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Crap. It never even crossed my mind.”

  Riley just stared at him. That’s what he was worried about? “That’s really old-fashioned.”

  He looked up from under his brows. “I’d expect it of anyone who
wanted one of my sisters.”

  She appreciated his consideration. “This wasn’t exactly a regular marriage.”

  “I know. But he doesn’t know.”

  “Trust me. He’s not going to care about that.”

  “It’s not even a matter of him caring. It’s a matter of my principles and how easily I ignored them to get what I wanted.” He threw his arms down in frustration and paced over to the window, bracing his hands on either side of the sink. “I guess that’s what I get for lying in the first place.”

  “I’m afraid our lying isn’t done.”

  “Yeah. It’s just started.”

  ~~~

  At six that evening, Ben put the last of his tools away and let the second shift supervisor know he was leaving. He texted Riley back that he’d meet her where she suggested—in front of the security shack—and then texted Eve and Eden that he’d be at the hospital at seven thirty to meet them.

  Riley was waiting when he pulled up, and she hopped in before he could put the truck in park and open her door.

  The tension that lined her face and the droop of her shoulders suggested her day hadn’t gone any better than his. He refrained from asking, figuring she’d talk when she was ready. He liked a little time to decompress, not that he’d ever had it with the twins around.

  It was nice to ride in silence. There was always a radio on in the shop. The type of music depended on the tastes of the shift foreman. Sometimes the shop foreman pulled rank.

  It was all loud and clanging, and in Maine, he’d taken to wearing earplugs when he worked.

  Riley sat beside him with her head leaned back on the seat, her eyes closed. He was tempted to tease her about starting to snore, but she looked so dejected, he decided not to bother.

  Finally, about five minutes from the turn to her family’s farmhouse, she opened her eyes and looked over. “Thanks for giving me a minute.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse.” She picked her head up. It looked like she was getting her second wind. “You?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “I can handle it too. I’m just dreading it.” She gave a little smile.