“I need to talk to Millie,” he said. “We won’t be long.” And he led her out of the kitchen before anyone could say anything about that. Of course, there’d probably be plenty of speculation, but Joe could deal with that. For now, he wanted to know if Royce and Ella had been siblings.
He took her to the front porch and shut the door. He didn’t have to prompt Millie though. She launched right into it.
“I read through all the archived newspaper articles on Harlan, and it appears he beat his pregnant wife, injuring her to the point of putting her in a coma. The doctors were able to deliver the child, but his wife died. All of this happened in Houston,” she added.
“Was that child Royce?” he asked.
She nodded. “Had to be since the dates line up. Unfortunately, there’s no mention of Harlan having other children, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t a half, step or even a full-blooded sibling.”
It surprised Joe that something like that had been kept out of the press. Then again, the murder had happened in one of the largest cities in the country. A domestic homicide might not have gotten much attention.
“The aunt who emailed Royce died,” Millie went on, “and I haven’t been able to find any other relative on the DNA links. I did ask Alma, but she says she had no idea that Royce was adopted. Apparently, before he was born, his parents went away for about a year, under the guise of helping take care of her ailing mother, and when they came back, they told everyone they’d had a child.”
People must have bought that since Joe hadn’t heard anything to the contrary. Just the opposite. The only talk about Royce before the car crash had been how much of a “shining star” he was in the Dayton family. Afterward, all the talk had been about the way he’d treated poor, pitiful Millie and poor, pitiful Joe McCann.
Joe was sure Millie had tried to shake off that label. He certainly had. But at the moment, they both had a little of that pitiful vibe. They’d hoped too much that learning about Harlan would fix what had happened. Nothing could fix that.
“I’m sorry,” he said just as she said it, too. Their timing was perfect when it came to apologies.
It was Millie who continued. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find more about Harlan Guthrie, and I’m really, really sorry about that whole stupid ‘I love you’ thing.”
Stupid.
Joe wasn’t sure why he took offense to that, but he was glad she’d said it. Well, sort of glad. They couldn’t go back to that almost carefree feeling of going through antique porn and having sex, but he didn’t want to feel...
He mentally stopped and repeated it. He didn’t want to feel...
Again, he stopped and pushed aside suggestions his dick had for finishing that. Instead, Joe let his somewhat crushed heart fill in the blanks. He didn’t want to feel as if he’d lost Millie.
Even if she wasn’t his to lose.
He looked at her. No smile. Just some sadness in her eyes, and he hated seeing it there. Knowing that he’d had some part in making her feel like crap.
“So what’d you wish for when you blew out the candles?” he asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
“For you to kiss me,” she said after a long pause.
Well, so much for lightening things up. He’d expected her to go with a joke, maybe like a new porn collection from the Great Depression. But he could tell from her expression that she’d told him the truth.
Joe could also tell, from the way his body was urging him on, that he was going to make that wish come true. Even if she wasn’t his. Even if it was a stupid thing to do. In fact, he did so many stupid things concerning Millie that he needed to set up another jar just for that.
He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. Hardly a kiss. So he did better. Without putting his hand on her, he just moved in closer, pressing his lips harder against hers. Turning it into a real kiss when he slipped his tongue into her mouth.
She moaned, that pleasure sound that always gave him an instant erection. He heard himself moan, too. A needy, hungry sound of a man who was starving for this. Starving for her.
Now he touched her. Joe dragged her to him though he didn’t have to put up much of an effort there since she was already heading in his direction. They landed against each other with a heavy thud and just kept on kissing. In fact, Joe thought he might be able to keep this up for days.
Or not.
He had to amend his “days” pipe dream when he heard the sound of a door slamming. For a moment he thought someone had come out of the house and onto the porch, but it had come from a car that was now in front of his house. Joe hadn’t even heard it pull up, but he sure as hell saw who got out.
Janice.
And it was a million times obvious that she had seen him kissing Millie.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” Janice said.
Joe studied her because there was none of the expected anger and perhaps even disgust in her voice. In fact, she looked ill, and that’s why Joe hurried off the porch. Millie stayed put.
“You have company,” Janice murmured.
“Millie’s birthday party,” he supplied, taking hold of her arm. “Dara, my sister, her son and Millie’s brother are inside.”
“I don’t want to go in there. I don’t want to be around anyone right now.” Janice stopped him from taking her onto the porch. “I’ll just say what I need to say and then leave.”
Hell, this was bad, and he tried to brace himself for whatever she was about to spill.
“Ella was adopted,” she said, her voice soft and thin. Janice stared down at the ground as she spoke. “But I gave birth to her.”
Joe was certain he looked confused. “Then, why’d you say she was adopted?”
Janice swallowed hard. “Because I got pregnant with her before I got married.” She looked up at him with what he thought might be apology. Maybe because she’d given Ella so much grief about getting pregnant with Dara.
“Ella’s biological father couldn’t, wouldn’t,” she corrected, “marry me and told me I’d just have to raise the child on my own.”
All of this was still whirling around in his head, but he asked the obvious question. “Who was he?” Joe asked.
“No one you know. No one Ella knew. He was a country music singer I met when I went to one of his concerts.”
Everything still kept whirling. He couldn’t image Janice as a groupie—to anyone or anything.
“Anyway, I gave birth to Ella,” she went on, “and I got married when she was two. Daniel adopted her.” Some fire lit in her eyes now. “And he was her father in every way that mattered.”
Joe nodded. He didn’t doubt that one bit.
“You can tell Millie if you feel you must,” Janice added. “But swear her to secrecy. I don’t want Dara to ever find out, and I don’t want a word about this in that research report Millie’s doing.”
She didn’t give Joe a chance to try to assure her that this wouldn’t make Dara think less of her, but Janice was already hurrying back to her car. She kept hurrying, too, when she drove away.
Joe stood there a moment, just breathing. Just thinking. Then just cursing. Because yeah, he’d tell Millie, along with asking her not to put anything about this in her report. That was a must. Then, Millie would know that Ella and Royce hadn’t been siblings. That they were not both the children of a man who’d killed their mother. That they still had no explanation as to why their spouses had been together and had died with Ella’s arms around Royce.
And that would put Millie and him right back on the emotional roller coaster they’d been on for two years.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MILLIE SAT AT her desk in the shop. She had her laptop positioned in front of her so that anyone who spotted her would assume she was working. She wasn’t.
Couldn’t.
So, she just looked out at the customers who tri
ckled past her door and to and from various displays. It was like watching a really boring TV show. It didn’t seem real with everything just moving and floating while her mind was stuck on what Janice had told Joe.
She should have been used to these fixations by now since it’d been nearly twenty-four hours since Joe had passed on to her what Janice had said. Until she’d heard him say the words, Millie hadn’t realized just how badly she’d wanted it to be true that Ella and Royce had been siblings.
Such a bombshell would have restored their good names. Would have assured Joe and her that they’d had good marriages after all. It wouldn’t have changed what happened, but it would have fixed some things.
Now nothing was fixed. And worse, she was caught up in a very dark place. She couldn’t totally blame that on this fresh grief though. No, this was more her own fault. She’d fallen hard for Joe, knowing that he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He’d spelled out for her that the best he could do was give her some moments, not even a confirmed tomorrow. Millie had known he was telling the truth, but she’d practically thrown her heart at him.
And now it was broken.
Her body was actually broken, too. Every muscle ached, and she had plenty of scrapes and even a blister. Instead of indulging her broken heart only with wine, ice cream and crying, she’d added some heavy physical labor by moving and boxing up stuff that should have been moved and boxed up months ago. She wasn’t finished, but she’d made a dent in it.
“Want me to lock up?” she heard Monte say, and Millie looked up to see him standing in the doorway. “Haylee’s checking out the last customer now, and it’s past closing time.”
Millie nodded, muttered a thanks.
Monte didn’t budge. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.” But she muttered another thanks.
Talking wouldn’t help, but maybe packing more boxes would. Or eating some more large quantities of the little tubs of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Millie ticked off some other possibilities, including a third call to Frankie—uh, no, correction, that would be a fourth call where Millie had already whined to Frankie in a vague sort of way since she couldn’t re-spill what Janice had spilled. Frankie probably thought she was on the verge of a breakdown.
Millie nixed the ice cream, the fourth call and would probably skip more box packing, as well. She didn’t want to go shopping for more B & J’s. Didn’t want to keep bugging Frankie. And didn’t want to throw out her back by lugging around more boxes. Besides, the only thing that would be a surefire cure for her mood would be to see Joe. She so desperately wanted to see him that for a moment, she thought she had conjured him up as a mirage.
No mirage though. It was Joe in the “holy smoke!” flesh that stepped up behind Monte.
“Got some time to talk?” Joe asked.
“I’ll go ahead and close the shop,” Monte said, smiling a little. Probably because Millie felt some of the darkness just float off her.
She didn’t quite trust her legs, they suddenly felt wobbly, so she kept her hands anchored on the desk when she stood. “Yes,” she said. “I’d love to talk.” Now that her cure was there, she was game for anything.
Joe just stood there, his eyes locked with hers, while she could hear Monte and Haylee scurrying—yes, scurrying—to close up. The bell jangled on the front door and Monte called out, “Bye, boss. Have a good evening,” before she heard the click of the locks.
Monte probably thought their hasty exit would spur some hasty sex between Joe and her, but Millie could have told him he was wrong to think that.
Or not.
Joe went to her and pulled her into his arms. It wasn’t anything close to sex, but it still felt amazing.
“Frankie’s worried about you,” he said, easing back to meet her eyes. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m better.” And that wasn’t a lie. Oh, mercy. She had it bad—and not for what had happened two years ago but for the man looking down at her with those incredible eyes. “How about you?”
“Better,” he repeated. And that probably was a lie. “Janice has called me about a dozen times to warn me not to tell anyone her secret. I assured her I had no immediate plans to do that, but that down the road, I thought she should tell Dara.”
Millie nodded. “She should know if for no other reason than family medical history.”
He made a sound of agreement. “I doubt Dara will care one way or the other since she didn’t know the man who adopted Ella. For Janice, I think it’s mostly about appearances. She doesn’t want anyone to know that she had a child before she was married.”
“Appearances,” Millie repeated. “Janice has a lot in common with my mother. Laurie Jean’s number one priority in life is appearances.”
“Anything new on the blackmailer?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Well, maybe there’s something new. Truth is, I’ve been avoiding Laurie Jean. Something I won’t be able to do much longer though. The poop will hit the fan when word gets out that I’m donating my house, Royce’s house,” she amended, “to the Last Ride Society.”
Joe froze for a moment, then did a sort of double take. “What brought that on?”
“Basically, I hate living there, always have, so while I was...” she stopped, rethought the confession she’d been about to make regarding her ice cream consumption and brooding “...boxing up the last of Royce’s stuff last night,” she continued, “I had an epiphany and decided I wanted to box up my stuff, too, and didn’t want to spend another night in the house.”
He continued to study her for a long time. “Good for you. What will the Last Ride Society do with it?”
This had been part of the epiphany, too. “I’m going to suggest they use it as the new library for the Last Ride Society. I figure that’ll please Alma to no end. She and her ilk have been wanting some place other than the back room here at the shop to store all the research reports, but the donation will rile Laurie Jean.”
“Because she wants you to hang on to the house?” he asked.
“Because she wants me to hang on to being Royce’s wife. I don’t want to do that,” Millie quickly added. She also quickly felt the anger over her mother’s shitty attitude. “And you know what—I don’t think Royce would want me to do that, either.”
Because she’d added a punch of emotion with each word, Millie waved that off. “The epiphany came post ice cream, post wine, post crying jag, so I wasn’t sure it’d make sense in the light of day, but it does. It’s what I want to do.”
Joe skimmed a finger down her cheek. Just a flicker of a touch. Oh, but it was a magic seal of approval. “Where will you live?”
“I’m working on that. Well, working on a short-term solution, anyway.” She smiled. “Yes. It was a very long epiphany,” she said, taking hold of his hand. “Let me show you.” Millie led him to the back stairs.
“Are we going to one of the porn rooms?” he asked.
She smiled because it didn’t sound as if he would completely object to that. “Some of the former porn rooms,” she explained. “The porn and rest of the stuff up here will go into storage. But I can give you the code for the storage unit if you want to go visit it sometime.” Millie winked at him.
He laughed, and it was good to hear it. Yeah, he was the cure all right.
With her anger gone and her mood improving with each passing second, Millie pointed to the long hall that was now stacked with boxes of stuff she’d moved out of the rooms.
She opened the door to the nearly empty storage room. “The house is zoned for both residential and commercial so there shouldn’t be a problem with building permits. I want to have this room and the adjoining one reconfigured into a living-kitchen area.”
Even though it was now just a blank canvas, she could see how it would be. A large cook’s table that could be used for dining, open cabinets, soapstone countertops. She wa
nted color, lots of it. Cobalt blue, sea green and butter yellow. It definitely wouldn’t suit everyone’s palate, but Millie thought designing a space like that would make her smile.
“I can use it until I find a house I want to buy, and then I can rent this out as an apartment,” she explained. “Monte’s already got his name on a renter’s waiting list,” she added with a chuckle.
Moving down the hall, Millie opened up the next room she wanted to show him. “This and the adjoining one will become the master suite. Not a huge space, but it’ll do.”
“You’re excited about this,” he remarked.
“Definitely. I’m excited about anything that’ll get me out of my current house and into something that feels more like me. Like I said, this will do so I can take my time to shop around.”
She might have to close the shop a day or two while the renovations were being done, but she’d deal with that when the time came. Deal, too, with Laurie Jean.
“I’m glad what Janice told you didn’t cause you to spiral down,” he said.
She turned, studying his face as he’d done to her. “Is that what it caused you to do?”
“No.” He dragged in a long breath and repeated it before he touched her cheek again. This time though, he slid his hand around the back of her neck. “I spiraled because I knew I’d hurt you. That I’d continue to hurt you if I kept seeing you. But here I am, anyway.”
Millie figured he was about to spell out why he was there, but she didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to listen to him say that coming here was a mistake. In his mind, it was. Nothing she could do to change that.
“Let’s just go back to our moment-to-moment arrangement,” she said and touched her mouth to his.
A sound rumbled from his throat. “I want to say yes because I want you. But, Millie, I can’t—”
He stopped, cursed and kissed her. In that order, and she wasn’t sure if the f-word he said was part of the cursing or if he was informing her what they were about to do.
She felt his frustration because she was feeling it herself. This inability to resist each other even when resisting was probably the way to go. But right now, she only wanted Joe, his mouth, his arms. And the rest of him. Yes, there’d be hell to pay, but at least she wouldn’t have to pay until she had another dose of him.
Spring at Saddle Run Page 27
