The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7)

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The Alcove (Lavender Shores Book 7) Page 10

by Rosalind Abel


  Even Robert noticed. He whispered how my bodyguard looked smitten, and hung. Maybe it was the wine causing me to see things, imagine what I wanted to be there. Although Robert… well, Robert probably wasn’t the best judge of that sort of thing, and he’d been pretty drunk too.

  All the thinking was making my brain hurt.

  Things would be better in the morning. I’d apologize.

  No, I wouldn’t. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.

  But still….

  I’d decide in the morning if I needed to apologize, and then things would be better.

  Although, Russell said he was going to poke his head in before he went to bed, maybe there was still a chance for tonight.

  I needed to get myself together before he did that.

  I could make coffee. Try to sober up before he came back in.

  Brush my teeth. I should probably brush my teeth.

  That was it. I needed to smell fresh when Russell came back in.

  Once more, the sheets seemed to be struggling with enmeshment issues as I fought to free myself. Finally I was out of the bed and headed to the bathroom. I was pleased to see that the doorway between the two rooms was fairly solid, and doing very little spinage.

  I couldn’t believe I’d chosen the wrong book. The In Death series was amazing. It was one of my favorites. I’d thought for sure Russell would like it, all the crime and murder, solving the mystery. I know he said it was too much like being at work, but Eve Dallas wasn’t a bodyguard. She was a detective, or a cop… lieutenant… something. I couldn’t remember right then.

  I’d just reached the bathroom when a crazy idea hit me. Perhaps it was the wine talking, or maybe it was because I was a prissy little queen. I wasn’t sure. But maybe that was exactly what Russell needed. He was a pretty intense man. From all I’d seen anyway. Serious. Maybe he needed something lighter, something fun.

  Just as I started to flick on the bathroom light, I made my decision. That was most definitely what he needed, something fun.

  The thought brought a new wave of energy, and I turned and headed across the bedroom. I spared a look at my jeans and shirt on the floor, but they looked like too much effort. I glanced down, I still had on my underwear. Although, if I ran into Russell, maybe it would be better if I didn’t.

  I’d just slipped my thumbs into the waistband, ready to yank them down, when I thought better of it. I had already pushed too much. Leaving them on, I went to the bedroom door and opened it slowly before sticking my head out to check to see if Russell was close by.

  He wasn’t, and after a moment I heard the shower running in the guest bedroom.

  I could join him in the shower. Bet he looked amazing in the shower. The water running down all those muscles, making its way over his chest hair, dripping off that big, fat dick of his.

  No. I’d just decided I wasn’t going to push. I had to get a grip.

  Why had I come out there again? Coffee?

  No. I wasn’t headed for the kitchen. That was the problem. Wrong place.

  Remembering my mission, I made my way to the stairs as quietly as possible, opened the door, and walked down to the bookshop. Thank God the long flight of stairs was narrow as I had to hang on to the wall to keep from stumbling. The spinning seemed to be returning.

  That sensation lessened as I entered the bookshop and flicked on a light. I turned it off again instantly when the bulbs attempted to scorch my retinas.

  I was fine. Didn’t need light to see anyway. I knew where everything was. On my way over to the mystery section, I only pulled a couple of books off the shelf when I stumbled against a bookcase. That was fine too. They could be retrieved in the morning.

  I found the books I was looking for fairly easily. But both series were missing the first and second installments.

  Maybe I needed the lights after all. Possibly I just couldn’t see them. Although the room was bright enough with the moonlight coming from the large front windows to make out the titles. If I’d grabbed my glasses off the nightstand that could’ve helped as well.

  They weren’t there.

  Someone stole them. It was a very un-Lavender Shores-like thing to happen. Granted, there were a lot of tourists in and out of the shops, but even so, most of the tourists who traveled to Lavender Shores weren’t the type to steal.

  Maybe it was Neal. I took a step back, bumping into another bookcase at the thought.

  Had he been there while Russell and I were at the book club?

  I whipped around to see down the aisle of books and nearly fell over. I managed to catch myself on one of the shelves.

  Neal wasn’t there.

  Of course he wasn’t, I was being an idiot. A drunk, drama-queen idiot. Why would Neal come in and steal books?

  Although maybe he was taking the first book of every series, just to hurt business. I hadn’t checked that.

  No, that didn’t make any sense either.

  Then I remembered. I’d put them in my car the other day to take to Heather Kelly. She was so busy running the bed-and-breakfast and in her new role as mom, I thought she might need a light, easy escape. I could’ve sent them with Xander, but I’d wanted to talk to her face-to-face.

  That was it! I’d stolen them from myself.

  Luckily I hadn’t had a chance to drive over to the Blue Blossom Bed-and-Breakfast.

  Sorry, Hayley, Russell comes first.

  I’d get the books from my car, and have them ready for when Russell got out of the shower and came to check on me

  The bookshop barely spun once as I crossed it again, entered the stairwell, then stepped outside.

  As the back door shut behind me I took the night air deep into my lungs. That was what I should’ve done in the first place. I instantly felt better, clearheaded, and my stomach soothed. Leaning against the door for a few moments, I watched the stars overhead in the crystal clear black sky.

  Maybe I was being ridiculous. Like books were going to help the situation. As if Russell would read them, enjoy them, then look over at me and say, Wow, you really do get me. And then sweep me into his arms, take me to bed, and I’d get to spend every night for the rest of my life in those arms’ embrace.

  Maybe the night air wasn’t doing quite as much to clear away the effects of the wine as I’d thought. I had no business thinking of forever, not with Russell or anyone else. I already had my forever; my little bookshop was the stuff of my dreams and more than I thought I’d ever have.

  My robin’s egg-blue Mini Cooper sparkled at me in the moonlight. I nodded in its direction. “Good point. I don’t need to figure all that out. Doesn’t mean he won’t like the books. In fact, he probably needs the books.” The distance between the back door and my car held no walls to lean against, no more bookshelves to grip for support. But the night air really was doing its job. The only spinning was the stars doing what stars do. Though if I moved slowly, I didn’t stumble or fall. I might’ve wobbled a time or two, but regardless, I reached my Mini Cooper without incident.

  I tried the door handle. It didn’t budge.

  I reached into the pocket of my jeans to pull out the car keys, then remembered I was only wearing underwear.

  Well… shit.

  Maybe I could retrieve the key, come back out, get the books, and crawl back into bed before Russell got out of the shower.

  Chances were low.

  “You always were adorable when you were drunk. Although I don’t think I’ve seen you quite this naked outside before.”

  I whirled around, the motion knocking me off-balance. I tried to steady myself on the side mirror of the Mini Cooper but missed.

  Neal shot out a hand and steadied me. Then he squeezed. “Wow. You’ve bulked up. I thought it looked like it, but I couldn’t be sure. But seeing you out of clothes—” He whistled. “—sexier than ever.”

  Neal? Holy fuck. Neal. I looked up at his face; he was almost as tall as Russell and nearly as wide. He’d always been beefy, but apparently his time in
jail had transformed him from stocky to bodybuilder. Why? Why would they let that happen?

  I tried to slink by, but his grip remained firm on my shoulder.

  His other hand came up and stroked my cheek, and then he ran his fingers through my hair. “This is new too. Though I like it better longer.”

  I jerked my head away, the motion causing my nausea to return. “I need you to leave.”

  “Jasper, baby.” His hand returned to my face, his thumb caressing over my cheek. “Didn’t you get the postcard? The roses? They’re my way of saying I’m sorry, for everything.”

  Yes, the worst fights had always been followed by flowers. “Fine. I forgive you. But I still need you to go.”

  He stepped nearer so his body secured me against the car. The pressure revealed just how much more mass he had, and that he was aroused. “I’ve missed you. I wanna make things right.”

  I glanced toward the bookshop. Maybe Russell was out of the shower. Maybe he’d look in on me and see that I wasn’t in my bed. He’d be here any second.

  Neal gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him again. “Searching for that big guy? Did you move on? You got someone new?”

  There’d been very little physical violence in our relationship, mostly lots of control, threats, manipulations, and every other sort of abuse that didn’t involve fists. A shove every once in a while, but it mostly stopped there.

  Something had changed in him.

  He dug his fingers into my jaw, two of them curling under the soft flesh to get a better hold.

  “You’re hurting me, Neal.”

  “Sorry.” He relaxed his grip, but he didn’t release me. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I don’t like the thought of you with someone else.” Despite his apology, he tightened his fingers once more.

  “I’m not. Russ—” Maybe I shouldn’t say his name. “He and I aren’t together. He’s here to… help me.”

  “You’re not together?”

  I managed to shake my head. Again the nausea rose, though I didn’t think it had much to do with movement anymore.

  “Good.” Still holding tight, he lowered his face and kissed me, hard, knocking my teeth on the inside of my lip.

  I wedged my hands between us and tried to push against his chest.

  He shoved his tongue into my mouth.

  I pushed again.

  This time he broke the kiss and stepped back. He looked genuinely confused and hurt. “Jasper. Baby, come on. It’s been a long time.”

  “I need you to go, Neal. Please.”

  His blond, barely there eyebrows knitted, and a shadow flitted over his face. Maybe it was just a cloud in front of the moon, but I didn’t think so. “That’s fine. You’ll change your mind. You just need time.” He took another step back, and though he kept a grip on my shoulder, he released my face.

  Relief flooded through me, which strangely only increased the nausea. I nearly threw up but held it back.

  Neal looked over at the bookshop, then walked so swiftly I couldn’t make sense of our movement until we were halfway across the parking lot. With one hand still gripping my shoulder, he’d thrown his other arm across my back, and we were heading toward a black Toyota sedan.

  I started to struggle, trying to worm my way free of his grip.

  He held tight, easily pulling me along with him.

  Despite my new and improved body, I was all but powerless to get away. Pain from his grip, from the asphalt against the soles of my feet.

  We were less than three feet from the car before scenarios began to play through my mind, burning away the remaining buzz of the alcohol, Neal stuffing me into his car and driving away. Being stuck with him. Losing the life I’d dreamed about for so long. Six years. Maybe that was good. A lot of people didn’t get six years living their dream.

  No! I wanted more. I wasn’t going to stop at six years. What was I thinking? Maybe I wasn’t as strong as him, but I couldn’t just give up. I couldn’t.

  Neal flung open the driver’s side door and started to push. “Crawl over to the passenger seat. Don’t try anything.”

  I gripped the edge of the doorframe and tried to stop the forced-forward momentum, but my bare feet couldn’t find traction on the blacktop.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Jasper. Just get in the—”

  A pounding noise cut off Neal’s words, and I couldn’t place the sound until there was a loud growl, the smack of flesh, and I was suddenly released.

  Caught off-balance, I fell into the car, bashing my forehead on the doorframe but managing to catch myself. Again the nausea returned.

  Scrambling back, not giving the pounding of my head, churning of my stomach, or the stars behind my eyes any mind, I was only desperate to get out of the car, to get away from wherever Neal wanted to take me.

  On my feet, I turned and saw Russell, wearing only flannel pajama bottoms in a struggle with Neal.

  It was like watching a bear fight. Neal truly had been transformed during his years of lockup. He was only slightly smaller than Russell. But over ten years younger.

  That last part didn’t seem to matter much.

  Russell managed a clean punch to Neal’s face, eliciting a bellow of rage.

  Neal stumbled back and screamed again, then rocketed toward Russell as a bull goes after a matador. Russell sidestepped, evaded Neal’s grip, and landed another punch, this time on Neal’s ribs.

  “Jasper. Get inside. Now.” He flung an arm wide toward the bookshop. “Call the police.” Without waiting for a response, Russell wheeled back around, just in time to get a fist to the stomach.

  I froze. Utterly and completely froze. Couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

  This couldn’t be real. It made no sense that Neal was back. Flowers or no flowers, I hadn’t been able to picture him inside the boundaries of Lavender Shores. It hadn’t been possible.

  Especially this version of him. Though his rage wasn’t new, I’d never seen him like this. He was just a run-of-the-mill, asshole boyfriend who had been peddling drugs behind my back for years. Not this… vicious creature in front of me.

  “Jasper. Get inside!” Russell yelled again as he threw another punch at Neal and missed.

  Before I could respond, Neal made contact once more, this time on the side of Russell’s head.

  With a roar that made him seem as ferocious as Neal, Russell shot forward, returning Neal’s punch to the face, quickly followed by one to his gut.

  Neal doubled over, staggered backward, and crashed into me, once more pinning me between his body and car.

  It woke me up. Finally. I shoved him and only managed to push him back a couple of inches, but it was enough for me to slide free from the car.

  He whirled on me, eyes crazed, and backhanded me across the face so hard that I once more stumbled, banged into the car, then fell to the ground.

  Neal reared back his leg, preparing to kick, and I tried to roll away.

  “Jasper!” Russell screamed my name and plowed into Neal, both of them falling against the car so hard that the side of the back door dented in.

  Somewhere in the scuffle, Russell lost his footing and fell, landing on top of me.

  I let out a cry of pain, and then my stomach followed through on its threats from the entire evening, clenching and then forcing me to roll over and spew in the parking space.

  Russell twisted, getting off me as quickly as he could. “Sorry. Jasper, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” His hand was on my back for a heartbeat, and then it was gone. I assumed he was going after Neal once more, but I couldn’t look as my stomach clenched again and made me even more powerless than I’d been before.

  A door slammed, tires squealed, little flecks of rock, gravel, and debris smacked against my face.

  As if it had just been warming up, my body truly revolted, and I was lost to wave after wave as my stomach emptied.

  Eight

  Russell

  “I’m so sorry, man. I’m so, so sorry.” I lowered my head into my
hands, started to rub, then winced as I’d forgotten about getting punched on the temple. I straightened once more and looked over at Harrison, who sat on the other side of the couch, his husband, Adrian, standing beside him.

  “Why are you sorry? You did exactly what you needed to do. Thanks to you, Jasper’s in his bed asleep right now.” Harrison closed his eyes and shuddered. “Without you, who knows where Neal would’ve taken him by now.”

  Adrian squeezed Harrison’s shoulder. “He didn’t. Remember, you said so yourself. Jasper is safe. All is good.”

  I stared at them, both picture-perfect in the light of the dawning sun pouring through the alcove window. How could he even say that? Maybe because they hadn’t seen Neal in action, seen Jasper nearly forced into the car. But after hours at the hospital and talking to the police, they’d seen his bruised and cut-up face, the soles of his feet nearly raw from the pavement. Though mine weren’t much better. Not to mention the gravel marks on the back of his calves and thighs, which had been from me. “It almost wasn’t good. And I’m not sure if I’d qualify this as good anyway. Considering how banged-up Jasper is.”

  Harrison opened his eyes again and smiled at me. A gentle expression that was one of the few physical attributes the two of them shared. “You’re pretty banged-up yourself, and you’re that way because you were protecting my brother. He’s safe because of you. It’s not going to help him if you start beating yourself up.”

  “Yeah, well, I deserve to be scraped-up. If I hadn’t forgotten to set the alarm when we got back, Jasper wouldn’t have been able to get outside without me knowing.” I relived the flash of terror that had cut through me when I’d poked my head into Jasper’s room and found the bed and the bathroom empty, no sign of him in the apartment or the bookstore, and then realizing I’d failed to initiate the alarm.

  Again Harrison defended me, which was almost irritating. “Jasper is a grown man, not a kid. You’re not responsible for him choosing to go outside.”

  “Yes, I am!” I smacked the arm of the chair, stood, realized I’d yelled and glanced toward Jasper’s door. When it didn’t open, I refocused on Adrian’s and Harrison’s surprised faces and adjusted my volume. “Yes, I am. It’s my job. And Jasper was drunk. He wasn’t in the state of mind to make intelligent choices. I was too distracted by… stuff and forgot to set the alarm. I didn’t pause to run back up here to get my gun either. That’s on me.” Distracted by marveling at Jasper as we walked home. Trying to shove away the notions I’d had of him as he put on a show in that stupid underwear. Distracted by my terrifying thoughts of falling for the guy. Maybe that’s what I should be telling Harrison and Adrian, and then they’d realize what a fuckup I was.

 

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