by Ella Brooke
Why shouldn’t Char look at me with disdain?
I didn’t know why it mattered so much to me, but I desperately wanted to wash that look of contempt out of her eyes. I remembered how she’d looked at me that night in the alley, the expression of awakening desire on her face, a look almost of adoration as she’d gazed up at me. I wasn’t sure why she’d looked at me that way, considering she hadn’t seen me in years, but…
Well, if I was going to be honest about it, it wasn’t the sex that had scorched its memory into me that night. It was the way she’d looked at me.
I let myself sink into fantasy and imagined taking her out behind the diner, shoving her up against the wall, and making love to her until she looked at me that way again.
***
Charlotte
I wasn’t all that surprised when Hunter showed up the next day.
Like a bad penny, I thought with a twinge of mingled annoyance and panic. I poured him a cup of coffee and looked down at him, wishing that I wasn’t wearing this shapeless uniform, that I could let him see me wearing tight-fitting jeans and an even tighter t-shirt, so that he could see that I was still as shapely as ever. That I could let my hair ripple down over my shoulders, instead of confining it in this sexless braid, so that he’d know I was still a woman...
But I caught myself quickly and tried to erase those thoughts. I didn’t care what Hunter Kensington thought of me, after all. In fact, the less he thought of me, the better.
“Hi, Char,” he said, smiling up at me. He had a nice smile. Today he looked less worn, like he’d gotten a good night’s sleep for the first time in a long while. He was still a little on the thin side, of course, but under his familiar old leather jacket, it didn’t show as much. And he smelled like I remembered, like a cool winter breeze carrying snowflakes in its wake.
I refused to give in to that smile, refused to soften. If he’d known about Diana, I was reasonably sure he wouldn’t have walked away yesterday. The fact that he had made it pretty clear he hadn’t heard about my daughter yet. But sooner or later, it was inevitable that he would.
So I couldn’t let myself bend, not even a little. This man held my entire life in his hands…and he didn’t even know it.
“What can I get you?”
I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment in the amber depths of his eyes, but the amiable smile stayed firmly in place. “Today, I think I’d like pancakes. Sausage on the side, and a biscuit.”
I wrote it down and turned away, not even bothering to tell him it would be out shortly. Despite his carefully nonconfrontational attitude, my heart was racing in my chest.
If only he’d leave town and never come back. If only. Because if he stayed here, there was no way he wouldn’t find out about Diana sooner or later. Someone was bound to mention her, and then he’d do the math and guess she was his. Even if I denied it, he’d just use his vast wealth and the lawyers at his disposal to force me into having a paternity test done. And then…and then…
And then what? I remembered my first panicked thought yesterday, that he’d want to take Diana away from me. But did Hunter Kensington even want a daughter? I seriously doubted it—a little girl hardly seemed to fit his bad boy, motorcycle-riding lifestyle—but I also knew that to the Kensingtons, family was everything. Would he allow his child to be brought up in a decaying old bungalow? Would he allow her to attend a cheap childcare center?
I knew the answers as well as I knew my own name. Whether he cared for the child was irrelevant—after all, his own father hadn’t ever seemed to give a damn about him. But the Kensington devotion to family was legendary. As a Kensington, he would want to give his child everything his name and wealth could offer her. It was even possible he might try to take her away from me. Given that he was a felon, I doubted he could succeed—but then again, there were few limits to what that sort of wealth could achieve. The thought made me break out in a cold sweat, and I almost dropped the coffee carafe.
Once again, I thought of running. It was, I thought, the only way out of this situation, the only way to protect my baby. But the grim truth was that I had no resources, no way to escape. Mom had spent almost all her savings to get me and Jacob through college, and Jacob’s bookstore was only barely profitable. All my friends, even Angela, had long since moved to bigger towns that offered brighter futures. And me—I didn’t have two pennies to rub together.
No, I wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how much I wanted to.
I was trapped.
Chapter Four
Hunter
I wasn’t sure what had drawn me back to this shabby little diner. Well, to be honest, I knew perfectly well. It was Char.
Now that I knew who was beneath the waitress uniform, I wondered that I could ever have thought it and the figure beneath it to be shapeless. Every movement was as graceful as a dancer on stage, and every line of her body was utterly captivating. Her eyes were as dark and mysterious as ever, and beneath the cap, her face glowed with beauty despite the exhaustion I could see written on it. I couldn’t stop looking at her as she moved around the diner, pouring coffee and carrying trays.
You haven’t gotten laid in three years, an inner voice told me snidely. You’d look at any woman the same way.
But it wasn’t true, and I knew it. If I simply needed a woman, any woman, I could make a call or two, and any number of actresses, models, or singers would come running. The fact that I’d recently been released from prison wouldn’t dissuade them. If anything, it would make me more attractive.
But I didn’t want an actress or a model. I wanted a waitress in a crappy little diner in Bumfuck, Egypt.
I wanted Char.
She stopped next to my table, and I thought I saw a flash of aggravation in her eyes. Probably because I’d been staring like a horny teenager. She put down plates in front of me with a clatter, and I counted my lucky stars that my pancakes didn’t wind up “accidentally” dumped in my lap. She was clearly irritated.
“Anything else, sir?”
“Yes,” I said, surprising even myself. “Let me take you out Friday night.”
Her eyes went wide with shock, and then she turned a look of such disgust on me that I almost cringed.
“No,” she said flatly.
She turned to leave, but without even thinking about it, I grabbed her wrist again. She didn’t look any happier about it than she had yesterday. There was a dangerous glint in her eyes that promised scalding coffee in my hair if I didn’t back off.
“I’m sorry,” I said rapidly before she could dump the carafe on me. “I know I was a jerk yesterday. I apologize.”
She blinked, as if that was the last thing she’d expected me to say, and her battle-ready posture relaxed slightly. Some of the fire died out of her eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Kensington.”
“Don’t call me that, Char. I really think we ought to be on a first name basis by now, don’t you?”
“Hunter, then.” My name on her lips sounded like it was uttered by an angel. “I appreciate the apology, but I am still not going out with you. I have to work.”
“Okay. Saturday night, then.”
“Not interested,” she said tersely.
Of course she wasn’t interested. I was a stupid fool to have ever uttered the words, and I knew it. Why the hell would a decent, respectable woman like Char go out with a felon? It was hardly a surprise that she’d rejected me. I should’ve expected as much.
So why did it feel like she’d just slammed a pole into my stomach?
“I understand,” I said dully, lowering my head. All at once I couldn’t bear to meet her eyes. I couldn’t bear to see that look of revulsion again. I let go of her wrist, and instead of rushing away, she stood there looking down at me for a long moment, an odd expression on her face. For a long moment she looked like she might speak, but at last she turned and rapidly walked away.
I poked listlessly at my pancakes for a few moments, but somehow or other I’d lost my ap
petite. At last I stood up, stalked from the diner, and went outside to my motorcycle. The same old Harley. The one true friend I still had.
Which was a pitiful thought.
My thoughts were a million miles away, but the Harley took me home like it knew the way. I supposed I’d driven these roads so many times in my youth that I knew every curve, every turn, without having to pay conscious attention. The cold wind blew fiercely in my face, reminding me of my youth, and yet I couldn’t even bring myself to relish the joy of riding my bike again. My thoughts were too wrapped up in Char.
Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t like I was in love with her or anything. I barely knew her really. And yet I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her.
I left the Harley in its spot in the garage and headed toward the house. Toward my book-lined sanctuary. It was a raw, chilly February day, and the thought of sitting in front of the fireplace to warm my frozen toes was a comforting one. I headed into the back of the house and walked into the library.
Only to find Au sitting in the big chair behind the desk.
He looked up as I came in, and his mouth twisted in an unpleasant and wholly insincere attempt at a smile.
“How nice to see you, big brother,” he said, sounding as if it was anything but nice.
“Lovely to see you, too,” I growled. “Get out of my chair.”
“Your chair?” He blinked up at me, doing his best innocent look. We both knew he wasn’t innocent in the least, but he’d always had that decent-guy look down. It was the shimmery blond hair and the deep brown eyes, I think. He looked like a teen idol, pretty, nonthreatening, and disgustingly wholesome.
“I’m cold,” I said tersely, “and I would like to sit down in front of the fire. Move your ass, or I’ll move it for you.”
It was, I thought, the least he could do for me, considering he hadn’t even bothered to send a goddamn Uber for me yesterday. He owed me, damn it. He owed me everything. But he just continued sitting there, that irritating smirk still on his face.
“This isn’t your chair, Hunter. Not unless there’s a clause in the will I’ve forgotten about. I’m just as entitled to sit here as you are.”
I growled again, stalked around the desk, and grabbed him by the fine woolen lapels of his stupid charcoal Brioni suit, yanking him to his feet. Upright, he was three inches shorter than me and a good deal more slender, even considering the weight I’d lost in prison. I slammed him up against the nearest bookcase, toppling several volumes, and glared down into his eyes.
“I would like,” I snarled, enunciating each word with careful precision, “to sit in my goddamned chair.”
“Relax, Hunter.” Au failed to look terrified, or even particularly impressed. “Don’t rumple my new suit, please. I’m quite fond of it.”
“Fuck your new suit.” I shoved him up against the mahogany shelving a little harder, and was gratified to see something flicker in his eyes that might have been fear. “Get out of my way and stay out of it, or you’ll have to find out if blood can be gotten out of this fancy fabric.”
“Now, now, brother.” Au’s voice was cool, almost emotionless, and I decided I’d been wrong about that flicker of fear. The kid had bigger balls than you’d expect looking at his pretty face. “If you kill me, you’ll just go right back to prison—and for murder this time. They won’t put you in a minimum security facility for that.”
With an annoyed growl, I let go of him. Au was right—killing him wasn’t really an option, no matter how tempting an idea it might be. Au stood there straightening his lapels and tie, and I took advantage of his distraction to plant my ass in the chair. He looked down at me and gave a cold little laugh.
“Enjoy your seat by the fire, Hunter. Perhaps eventually we can find some way to agree on seating at the dining table without resorting to assault and battery.”
He turned to leave.
“Wait,” I blurted.
He turned and looked down his nose at me, radiating contempt. Anger flared in me. The little bastard had no cause to be contemptuous of me, not after everything I’d given up for him. But I choked back my anger because looking like I was always on the edge of murder probably wouldn’t help me in this situation.
“What is it, Hunter?”
He sounded amazingly like my father in that moment—exasperated by my presence and irritated by my mere existence. The memory of my father’s annoyed voice made my chest ache again, but I stiffened my spine.
“I want to be part of Kensington Media,” I said.
He turned back to me, lifting a supercilious eyebrow. “A part…of KM?” he repeated, as if I’d spoken with a mouth full of food and he was trying to make certain he’d understood me correctly.
“Yes. It’s the family business, and I want to be involved with it.”
“A part of KM,” Au repeated disbelievingly. “Well, we are looking for a receptionist, I believe…”
I briefly considered throwing him into the wall again, but I firmly chained my inner Rottweiler. “Don’t be insulting, Au. You know what I mean. I’m the older brother. I should be the CEO.”
He snorted, a rudely dismissive sound. “Please. You’ve just been released from prison, Hunter. I don’t know what sort of dream world you’ve been living in for the past few years, what sort of pie-in-the-sky redemption story you’ve been plotting for yourself, but the board of directors wouldn’t consider you for a middle management position, let alone as CEO. Not only are you a felon, but you never showed any sincere interest in the company while Father was alive. It’s too damn late to become part of it now.”
He turned his expensively-clad back on me and strode from the room, leaving me alone.
I stared into the fireplace for a long while, thinking. I should have known, I thought bitterly at last. I should have known. I’d given everything up for Au because despite all our differences, he was my brother, and family came first. That was how I’d been raised, and it was what I had always believed. I remembered my father’s voice lecturing me sternly: Family comes first, Hunter!
My charming younger brother had gotten the same lectures, but apparently the lesson he’d learned was this: Au comes first. He’d taken advantage of my absence to get his hooks into the board of directors and had managed to become CEO, and he wasn’t about to relinquish the position now, no matter what I’d done for him, no matter how much he owed me. In fact, I mused, he probably thought I was a danger to him because I might just decide to let the world know the true guilty party wasn’t me at all.
In which case, I might be the one who needed to watch his back.
Chapter Five
Charlotte
My old Hyundai wouldn’t start.
In the solitary darkness of the diner’s parking lot, I banged on the steering wheel with frustration, but the car didn’t seem to give a damn. Turning the key didn’t do any good, either; the car just clicked at me as if tsking at me for expecting it to start in this weather.
My battery, I thought glumly. Well, that was no surprise. This was the coldest night we’d seen all winter, and my battery had been on its last legs for a while now. I could probably get someone to help me jump start it, if anyone was around. Unfortunately, it was past eleven and I’d closed the diner on my own. The parking lot was an empty wasteland of cracked asphalt and Styrofoam containers, with not a single car to be seen.
I dropped my head back against the cheap upholstery of the headrest, closed my eyes, and considered my options. I didn’t want to call my mom, who was already doing me a huge favor by watching my daughter for me. Diana would certainly be asleep by now, and Mom probably would be nodding in front of her favorite late-night news show too. And Jacob most likely wouldn’t be home at all. He’d been working late much of the week, trying to keep the bookstore open longer hours in an attempt to garner more customers. No doubt he’d be willing to close it and come pick me up, but I didn’t want to ask it of him.
At last I decided that leaving the old wreck here and havin
g Jacob bring me by in the morning and jump start it on his way to work was my best option. Fortunately, it wasn’t a long walk home—though in twenty-degree weather, it would doubtless seem a lot longer. I reached back and grabbed my heavy coat from the back seat, then struggled out of the car and locked it. At last I turned toward home.
Could be worse, I thought. It could be snowing.
As if to mock me, a lone snowflake floated down in front of my face, and I groaned. It didn’t snow too often in this part of Virginia, but snow wasn’t unheard of in February, either. More big, fluffy flakes began to fall, and I pulled the hood up around my face, sighing.
Great. Just great.
I headed toward home. It was pitch dark, the clouds even blotting out the moon and stars, and the streets were almost silent since Pinecone didn’t have much night life, especially during the workweek. Snow fell more heavily, coating the sidewalks at an unusually rapid pace, and I found myself grateful for my nonslip restaurant shoes.
I trudged along, lost in grim thoughts about the cost of replacing the car’s battery—yet another expense I couldn’t afford. I wondered if I’d have to borrow from Mom again, and the thought made my heart sink. I didn’t want to be dependent on my mother for the rest of my life, damn it. And the truth was that Mom didn’t have much to lend me. If only Hunter and I hadn’t—
But no. Regardless of how much havoc the baby had wreaked on my life plans, the stark truth was that I wouldn’t trade her for anything. She may have been a mistake—but she was a mistake I could never regret.
After a nine-hour shift, my feet were already sore, and before long the ache in the balls of my feet was all I could really think about. The snow fell harder, and I pulled the hood up around my face more firmly, blocking my view of anything around me. I’d made it about five blocks into my journey when suddenly something grabbed me by the arm and yanked.
