Cricket Cove

by Haddix, T. L.

  “Um, all right. You’re serious?”

  She nodded and he stepped closer, bringing their bodies into contact. She brought her hands up to his shoulders, barely breathing as he bent his head and brushed her mouth with his. When she didn’t start laughing, she felt him give a shrug, and then he kissed her in earnest.

  It was pleasant. He definitely knew what he was doing, she thought as he put his hands on her hips and lightly nipped at her bottom lip. But he wasn’t Logan.

  After a minute, she pulled back with a sigh, then rested her head on his shoulder. Caleb wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

  “What happened in the barn?” he asked softly in her ear.

  She shook her head and gave a soggy laugh. “Logan happened. He kissed me.”

  “And I’m guessing you enjoyed his kiss more than mine.” There was the slightest hint of regret in his voice, and she raised her head to look at him.

  “Caleb?”

  He reached up and brushed a curl off her cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m not dying of unrequited love.”

  She blinked back tears. “I’m sorry. I guess I kind of used you, didn’t I?”

  The cocky grin he gave her was more in keeping with the man she knew. “I don’t mind. Any time you want to use me, I’m at your disposal. So are you interested in Logan, involved, what?”

  “His brother is my best friend. We’re connected by family members. That’s all.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a hug, then drew back. “I’d better go in and get something for this headache. Thanks for walking me home and for the kiss.”

  “Anytime. Head down some weekend if you need a distraction.” Even in the moonlight she saw his wink.

  “Caleb Walker, are you propositioning me?”

  He held his hands out expansively. “Entirely up to you. My door is open.”

  Amelia was astonished. She leaned against the post that held up the porch roof. “You’re half serious.”

  He sighed. “There are worse things than having a close friend you can pass a lonely night with. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be a little weird, or that I’d necessarily want your family to find out about it, but you’ve filled out more than nicely. It might be safer than turning to a stranger if things came to that for you. Just think about it. Like I said, door’s open. Whether that’s for coffee and a shoulder to cry on or for more, that’s up to you.”

  “I will keep that in mind. I might surprise you one day.”

  They said good-bye and she let herself in the trailer. She headed straight for the medicine cabinet and the aspirin she kept there. As she downed two of the pills, she wondered if Caleb had any idea how close she’d come to accepting his offer then and there, even if they only slept together without sex. The need to have someone just hold her was starting to eat away at her soul.

  The kiss with Logan had shattered her, split her into sharp pieces of longing and desire. But she couldn’t trust him. She knew that. No matter how much she wanted him, she feared that even casual sex between the two of them would end in disaster.

  While she could trust Caleb, she just couldn’t bring herself to make that leap.

  “I guess I’m not quite as desperate as I thought I was,” she told her reflection. “But I don’t know how much more I can take, either.”

  She thought back to Logan’s shocked face when she’d confessed that she knew the truth. He would tell Archer, she figured. Logan was the kind of man who needed to be in control of the situation and he wouldn’t want to take the chance that she hadn’t been telling the truth about letting bygones be bygones. He wouldn’t want to risk his relationship with his brother over a few hurt feelings. So she knew Archer would be showing up to check on her. She didn’t know if it would be tonight or at some point in the future, but she knew he’d be there. She just hoped she was strong enough to downplay how she really felt about Logan.

  Chapter Eleven

  When Logan didn’t return to the house after thirty minutes, Archer started to worry. “I think I’ll go check on him,” he told Emma. They were standing in a corner in the hall, and he’d kept a close eye on the door.

  “You might be interrupting something.”

  His mouth tightened. “I’d better not be.”

  She tugged him back to her and touched his chest. “I’m surprised at you.”

  “Why?”

  “I thought you wanted to see both of them happy.”

  Archer slid his hand around her waist and drew her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I do. But he could hurt her. Logan… he’s got mixed feelings as far as she’s concerned. Until and unless he figures them out, he’s dangerous.”

  She was quiet as she considered his words. “He’s your brother.”

  “I know. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s a threat to her.”

  Emma scowled. “That sounds incredibly ominous.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt her physically or anything like that, but I think she has feelings for him. He could rip her apart without even knowing it. You know Pip isn’t as strong as she pretends to be, at least not emotionally. Jimmy left her with some pretty big hang-ups.”

  “I know. Want me to come with you?”

  Archer hesitated and listened to his gut. “No. You stay here. I shouldn’t be long. If they’re okay, I’ll leave them be.”

  This time Emma let him go. He had just reached the front walk when Walker hailed him from the tree line.

  “Hey, have a minute?”

  Archer met him halfway across the yard. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I don’t know. I just walked Amelia home. She’s in an odd mood, and I think it has something to do with your brother.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Walker jerked his thumb toward the barn. “Because he was in there with her.”

  Archer cursed under his breath. “Is she upset?”

  The other man shook his head. “Not upset so much as disturbed. I thought you might want to know. She said she had a headache and was going to rest.”

  “I was heading out to see what was going on.” Archer clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for walking her home.”

  “I was glad to do it. Good luck.”

  The barn now his destination, Archer set out. A glance had told him Logan’s car was still parked in the row of vehicles that lined the driveway. When he pushed the door open, his heart sank. Logan, looking utterly dejected, was sitting on a bale of straw with his head in his hands. He straightened when Archer came in, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he was upset.

  “I wondered how long it would take for you to find me.”

  “What’s going on?” Archer didn’t approach him. He didn’t kid himself that he was half-afraid to know the answer.

  “I messed up.”

  There was no cocky rejoinder, no surly annoyance. If he hadn’t known any better, Archer would have said his brother was distraught. He crossed the aisle and sat beside Logan.

  “Tell me.”

  “That day out here when I spouted off? She heard everything,” he confessed. “Every damnable word. I would go back and cut my tongue out to keep that from happening.”

  Archer’s stomach tightened as he thought about how deeply Amelia had to have been hurt. He pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten, then to twenty, to avoid yelling at his brother.

  “She told you this?”

  “She did. It’s why she’s been so angry.”

  Archer stood and crossed to an empty stall, clenching his hands around the top of the door. “Can you blame her? Damn it, Logan.”

  Logan didn’t answer, and when Archer turned, he saw that his brother was studying his hands. “I can’t fix this, can I? She’ll neve
r trust me. And no, I can’t blame her.”

  “You aren’t just talking about friendship, are you?”

  “I don’t know.” Logan scowled fiercely and stood, wincing a little at the rapid movement. He moved stiffly to the tractor parked at the far end of the barn and laid a hand on the hood. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

  “I take it that you don’t think she’s the irresponsible child you described her as being?”

  Logan just looked at him, angry and miserable. It was difficult for Archer to find any sympathy for his brother, especially in light of the fact that his misery had been caused by words that had hurt Amelia.

  “Did the two of you argue?”

  “No. We… talked. I was pretty floored when she told me she knew, to tell the truth.” From the way Logan rubbed the back of his neck, Archer wondered. That hesitation had been telling. He decided to twist the knife a little, just to see what reaction he would get.

  “Walker said she was disturbed but not upset. He escorted her home.”

  Oh, Logan didn’t like that. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses and his scowl darkened. “That was nice of him.”

  Archer nodded, ignoring his brother’s sarcasm. “Yes. He’s a nice guy. They’ve always been close.” He could tell Logan was biting his tongue, and he felt a little of his concern melt away. His brother was a good man, but their childhood had left its scars on him much more than it had on Archer. If Logan was this concerned over Amelia’s reaction and the fact that she and Walker were “close,” then perhaps he was more emotionally involved than Archer had thought.

  On the other hand, Logan had always been competitive. Either way, Archer was starting to think it might be about time his brother got his foundation shaken by a woman. He only wished it could have been someone other than Amelia.

  “So what do I do?” Logan asked.

  “How is it that we’ve changed places? That I’m giving you advice now instead of the other way around?” Archer teased gently. He laid a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Let me talk to her, see how she feels. Until then, leave her be.”

  Logan nodded. “Okay.”

  They both knew there wasn’t anything else to do. Archer knew that Amelia would either forgive Logan or she wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to or not. Time would tell.

  Chapter Twelve

  The day after the party, Amelia woke up with a pounding headache, scratchy throat, and rattling cough. A wave of nausea crawled up her throat and she barely made it to the bathroom in time. As she slumped over the toilet a few minutes later and tried to catch her breath, she felt like crying.

  One of the benefits of being a shifter was having generally perfect health. The only times she’d ever been sick in her life were when she’d been run-down emotionally or physically. She should have been expecting that she would get sick now. The wedding and Roger’s stalking had taken a toll on her. She wasn’t even going to think about Logan and the impact he’d had.

  When she thought she could stand, she eased to her feet. Opening the medicine cabinet, she pulled out some over-the-counter pain meds that were supposed to work for fevers and downed a couple. A glance in the mirror told her she looked like death warmed over. She pulled her robe down off the back of the door and wrapped herself in the soft flannel, then went back to bed.

  “Just a few more minutes of sleep and I’ll feel better.”

  The feel of her mother’s cool hand against her forehead woke her some time later. “Amelia, you’re burning up with fever. Can you hear me?”

  Opening her eyes took effort. The lids were heavy and gritty. “Mom?”

  “Yes. We need to get you to a doctor. I’ll call up to the house and have your father drive around. We’re going to the ER.”

  “I’m fine,” Amelia rasped. Her words held no weight since she coughed so hard she nearly made herself sick again.

  “Oh, sweetheart. You are not fine. Do you think you can get dressed if I help you?”

  Through her fever-stricken mind, somehow the words managed to penetrate. “I think I can do it. Will you get some clothes for me?”

  Four hours and a diagnosis of severe bronchitis later, Amelia was resting on her parents’ couch. Sarah was puttering around in the kitchen, putting a chicken on to cook. Owen was in the living room with her and when she started coughing, he helped her raise up, then sat behind her for support. He pulled her back into his chest to rest like she had when she was a young girl. He rubbed her back soothingly, and Amelia leaned into him, eyes closed.

  “I’m sorry to be a bother for you and Mom,” she said when she caught her breath.

  “Amelia Rose, you aren’t a bother. I don’t know where you get this idea that you are. You just rest and get better. Let us be strong for you for a little while. I don’t know how you got to be so stubborn and independent,” he told her softly, stroking her hair back off her face. “You must get it from your mother.”

  “I heard that,” Sarah teased as she came in. “I think it’s about fifty-fifty, Browning-Campbell.”

  Amelia let herself drift off as her parents took care of her. She just didn’t have enough fight inside her right now to argue, and it was nice to not have to worry about things just for a little while.

  By the time Christmas Eve rolled around the following Friday, Amelia was almost completely well. She just had a little bit of a lingering cough. She’d used the week to not just recuperate physically, but to try to heal emotionally as well. The discussion with Logan had opened her wounds again a little, though this time it was more a lancing of an infected boil than a ripping apart of her emotions. She felt a bit like she’d lost a part of herself, and the depth of that loss surprised her. But she supposed it was normal, really. After all, Logan was the first man she’d truly been attracted to in her entire life.

  Part of being a Cupid was knowing when someone was right for another person. Also part of being a Cupid was having to learn when to let go of the desire to pair people up. Sometimes it didn’t work out for whatever reason.

  She had to let Logan go. She knew that. But letting go was hard. She’d never been a quitter and walking away from the idea of him completely felt a bit like quitting.

  Her mother and sisters wouldn’t let her do much in the way of helping prepare food Christmas Eve. They instead assigned her babysitting duty with Molly.

  Amelia was only too happy to oblige. “They think they’re keeping me from working myself too hard,” she told the happy infant as she rocked her in the living room. “But I’m getting the best job in the house.”

  Molly cooed up at her, a sweet, toothless grin spreading over her face as Amelia made baby talk at her. She had the living room to herself, as her father and the rest of the men were out in the barn putting together new bikes for the older children. Sounds filtered down the hall from the kitchen, and while part of her missed being in the middle of the activity, getting Molly all to herself was rare.

  Amelia wanted children. She wanted babies of her own to cuddle and a father for those babies who loved her as much as she loved him. Whether she’d ever see that dream realized, though, was up in the air.

  She thought about Lori, who had suffered through four miscarriages at Roger’s hands. Despite that, her friend was reluctant to see the truth about her husband. She swore she loved him. Now that Amelia had met Logan, she could almost understand what Lori meant. Experiencing the way she felt about Logan with them not even really being friends, and knowing how tempted she was to shove aside his hurtful words, it made her see Lori’s situation in a different light.

  She still thought Roger was a piece of scum. If he dropped off the face of the planet tomorrow, the world would be a better place. But the psychology behind Lori’s staying made a little more sense to her now. For whatever reason, Roger filled a need in her friend’s life. Until and unless
Lori was able to let go of that need, she’d never let go of Roger. No matter how much he hurt her or how many times he caused her serious physical damage.

  “It isn’t as black-and-white as I wish it were. But we’re not going to think about that tonight, Miss Molly,” she told her niece. “Tonight we’re going to have a wonderful evening filled with Christmas cheer.”

  Molly squealed in agreement and kicked her legs. Amelia smiled at her antics.

  “You are the most precious little miracle baby ever, did you know that?” She kissed Molly’s forehead and rubbed her cheek over the baby’s head. “I could sit here and hold you forever.”

  The front door opened and a draft of cold air wound its way into the living room as the sounds of the men’s voices filled the hall. Amelia kept her gaze on Molly, drawing in a slow, steady breath for courage. Tonight would be the first time she’d had to interact with Logan since the party.

  “Looks like it’s showtime, little girl. Wish me luck.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The sight of Amelia seated in the rocking chair by the fireplace holding the baby, her hair and skin gilded by the glow of the fire, knocked the breath out of Logan. She looked so natural with Molly, so at home. Seeing her like that set off a longing—both physical and emotional—deep inside him. He was grateful for the distraction of the kids as they came running down the stairs.

  Logan didn’t want kids. He never had. He knew part of that was because of the way his mother had died. And he knew without asking that Amelia did want kids. So it would be safer for both of them if he didn’t go down that road at all. He could keep her at a distance and that would be fine.

  He’d done a lot of thinking since his talk with Archer at the party. Regardless of what Amelia had said and what Archer believed, Logan knew he had to try to make amends. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t. At the very least, he hoped they could be friends.