Love in Due Time

by Smartypants Romance

  “No one,” I answer, holding my breath. I don’t want them to discover Naomi.

  “Still seeing that strange bird?” Catfish inquires, tipping his head once in the direction of Naomi’s home. How does he know where she lives?

  “We broke up.” I’m not wrong. She’s not going to want to see me again. I killed her brother. While we didn’t hit head-on, I’m still indirectly responsible. And man, how I wish the circumstances were different.

  Dirty Dave snorts, and the tone itself suggests something. He wants her next.

  “You leave her out of it,” I rush. My fists clench and I fight the force pulling me to step into Dirty Dave’s face. The venom in my warning gives away my still yearning for her.

  “That’s what I thought,” Catfish drawls, with a knowing gleam to his eye. “She the one holding you back? Do we need to let her know you owe me?”

  “Don’t you go—”

  “Easy, Wolf,” Catfish warns as I step up to him and we stand toe-to-toe.

  “We could take care of her. Chirp-chirp, little birdie.” Dirty Dave snickers and my hackles raise. My fingers unfurl and then return to fists. “Or should I be calling her a witchy woman?”

  An old song from the Eagles comes to mind, but I shiver at Dirty Dave’s hint at the gossip around Naomi.

  “Are you threatening me?” I glare at Catfish, ignoring the older man. My eyes burn with my own ultimatum: come near her and I’ll toast him.

  “Ahhh.” Catfish lets out with a devious grin but doesn’t elaborate. We stare at one another a long moment before he speaks. “You tell Henderson we don’t have time to wait for his nonsense, and as for you, I hope you come to your senses soon, Wolf.”

  “Never,” I hiss under my breath.

  “You will,” Catfish states. “Sooner than you think.”

  My body hums and I hold my breath as the two men turn for the temporary front door and exit. Once I hear the roar of motorcycles, I turn to race up the stairs and nearly collide with Naomi tucked into a dark corner. I grip her upper arms and tug her against me, displaying my inner caveman and a bit of fear. I don’t want them coming after her to get to me.

  “What was that all about?” she asks, pressing her face into my flannel and gripping handfuls of the fabric.

  “Nothing,” I lie.

  “You didn’t explain to them who I am?” There’s a question in her eyes, wanting an explanation and maybe a definition of what she means to me, but I can’t make declarations with the anxious energy rumbling through me.

  “I don’t want them to come near you.” I pause as I grip her shoulders and push her back from me. “This is between him and me.”

  “You told them we broke up.” Her voice falls soft and uncertain. Is she questioning us?

  Didn’t we?

  “Can we get past this?” Her brother. Me.

  Tears fill her eyes as her lips twist. Her head shakes side to side. “I don’t think so.”

  She shrugs out from under my hands, and this time, I’m the one left standing alone, while she walks away.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dewey Decimal Classification: 168 Argument and Persuasion

  [Naomi]

  He follows me at a distance which both startles me and settles me. I want to walk away all brave and determined to be free, and yet I want his comfort and reassurance. The emotions conflict inside me.

  I killed your brother.

  Not in a million stars did I think that would be his reason for not calling me.

  Another woman.

  A change of mind.

  But this …

  He isn’t trying to hide the fact he follows me. The snap of a twig. The crackle of brush pushed aside. Loud sounds echo in the forest on this quiet night meant to reassure me he’s there for protection and because he’s a gentleman. I don’t know what those men wanted with him and it’s yet another mystery surrounding Nathan Ryder.

  Who is this man?

  I break free of the thick bush between the properties and continue to my door. At the edge of my land, I expect him to turn and retreat. I’ve made it safely home. He can disappear once again. So the sound of his voice directly behind me startles me.

  “Do you hate me?”

  “Hate is a strong emotion,” I say spinning to face him. “And I don’t feel that—”

  “I know.” His voice drops as he holds up a thick hand to stop me. “You don’t feel that strongly about me.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I do feel strongly about you … in the opposite direction.” I blow out an exasperated breath. He couldn’t possibly be this dense. He couldn’t possibly not know how I feel about him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nathan.” I sigh. “I’ve fallen for you. Again.” My arms flap and then my hands slap at my sides, frustrated with him, with myself, with these feelings that I shouldn’t have in our situation. I visibly shudder.

  His breath catches but his eyes remain uncertain. “Maybe we should step inside to talk. It’s cold out here.”

  Is it? I don’t feel the cold. I only feel the heat rushing through me from his revelation.

  I killed your brother.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say, slipping my hands into my coat pockets. I inhale in hopes of drawing myself taller, to ward off the pull to hug him or hit him. I don’t trust myself to bring him in my house. Besides, he hasn’t responded to what I said. I’ve fallen for him.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  “Isn’t that what we are doing?” I admonish and then my head lowers. “I don’t know what’s left to say.”

  Nathan wraps both his hands behind his head, turns in a circle, and then faces me again. He’s wearing only a flannel, rolled to the sleeves and exposing his strong forearms. My eyes leap to his wrist, noticing the gratitude bracelet I gave him.

  Am I still thankful for him?

  What’s his purpose in my life?

  Right now, I can’t think straight.

  Nathan lowers his arms, slipping his hands into his pants pockets. He blows out another breath.

  “Look, I just want to explain. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t see him. He probably didn’t see me. You mentioned he was drinking.”

  Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head, willing them away. Willing away the memories of my brother, a fun guy who took things too far, too fast, too often.

  “Did he do that often?” Nathan’s voice softens. I swallow past the lump in my throat and nod. A thick finger comes to my chin and presses upward. I lift my face to meet his. “I’m sorry he did that.”

  He’s not blaming Jebediah. Mother Earth knows, Jebediah didn’t have it any easier than the rest of us under our parents. As the precious, only boy, the pressure to conform was tripled, which was something he simply could not do.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop immediately, Nae.” The nickname turns my stomach. I’m going to be sick. “I was young and stupid and in a hurry and …” He licks his lips and I close my eyes. “I don’t have a good reason.”

  I nod. He doesn’t. There isn’t any reason in the world I can accept for not turning back to help another human being.

  “When I went back, I didn’t touch him, but I knew …”

  “You went back.” I’m not absolving him, but I’m curious. “Why?”

  “I felt guilty.” He lowers his finger from my chin. “It took me a minute, but it hit me hard. My mind raced. Did we touch? Did we somehow clip bikes? I knew I’d lost control, but I righted myself. He obviously didn’t. I called Catfish. He warned me not to go back but I did anyway. I had to be certain. If there was a way to make it right, I was willing to try … but I just knew.”

  His head falls forward and two thick fingers pinch at his eyes, pressing at the lids. He swipes to the center and draws down his nose after a second.

  “Why did you call Catfish?” Another thought occurs. “How did you call him?”

  Nathan had left his phone on the bed by
me. I always assumed he returned to the motel, retrieved the phone, and decided not to call me again. He’d got what he wanted and left, that kind of thing. I never imagined this. Never.

  “I stopped at a diner in Cedar Gap.”

  My breath hitches. The Water Pump. A greasy spoon on the edge of the highway just off the pass where drivers decide: do I take the Dragon or the safer yet longer route around the lake?

  “I used a payphone.” The comment interrupts flashbacks of visiting the Water Pump, drinking contraband soda pop and hanging out with boys I shouldn’t have been with at thirteen. I’d giggle at the thought of a payphone if the moment wasn’t so serious between us.

  “Catfish was my brother.”

  My brows instantly pinch. “I thought Todd was.”

  “Catfish was going to be my biker brother. He’s the reason I was patching into the Wraiths.”

  Ah, yes. The Iron Wraiths. The reason Nathan left that night.

  “And the reason Catfish was next door tonight?” I question.

  “He wants me to patch back in.” My insides tumble and the nauseous sensation returns.

  “What did he mean, you owe him? Is this why he wants you to patch in again?” I pause a moment while Nathan looks off to the construction site. He scoffs bitterly and scratches his knuckles under his chin, making raspy noises from the contact of skin on scruff. “He wants me to patch in because the Wraiths are a hot mess. They need to rebuild. Restructure.”

  “And,” I ask, not satisfied with this curt answer.

  “And I owe him because he let me go the first time.”

  My forehead furrows. “I don’t understand.” I’m not versed in biker culture.

  “I couldn’t handle what happened.” Nathan’s dagger-silver eyes hold mine without flinching. “I couldn’t take a life … whether by accident or on purpose … and that’s what I’d need to do to become a Wraith. It hit me that night. The near miss on my end. I couldn’t be responsible for taking away someone’s life. I told Catfish I wanted out.”

  His brows soften. “He did it.” Nathan shakes his head, shifting his eyes from mine. “He let me leave.”

  I continue to stare at him, not understanding. Nathan exhales with a shudder, and for a moment, I picture the brown-haired young man with his brilliant eyes, carefree and careless, but not without a conscious.

  “I wasn’t supposed to come back here. I wasn’t supposed to ever return. I took their secrets with me and Catfish knew mine. I was a coward.”

  “Nathan,” I admonish. His refusal to purposefully take a life doesn’t make him less of a man. It makes him honest with himself and the fact he didn’t patch into a notorious MC makes him a better person.

  “Catfish had to take responsibility for my desertion. I can only imagine what he went through when he told them he let me go.” His body trembles again.

  “So you didn’t patch in because of what happened with Jebediah?” The question rings in my quiet voice.

  He nods. “It’s also why I didn’t call. When Catfish told me to leave, I left. I hid in Nashville for a bit before defecting down to Florida. I never returned for that phone with your number.” He sighs. “And what could I say? I want to see you again, but I think I killed a man and now I’m running away.”

  The defeat in Nathan’s voice slays me. For such a big man, the slouch of his shoulders and the hang of his head speaks volumes to a trying time in his life. That was eighteen years ago. The silver in his hair and edging his sharp jaw hints at the passage of so much time, and I know all too well how guilt and blame can ripple like a current from the decisions you make.

  “Why did you come back then?”

  “Ma missed the girls, and after Margie went off with another man … Dahlia was in trouble at school … and I just wasn’t happy. Something was missing from my life.”

  An unsolved puzzle with a missing piece.

  Me?

  I shake my head. “Your mystery is solved.” My voice teases without humor.

  “What if it was the universe speaking to me?” He steps forward and my back hits the front of my house. Nathan fills my space and I breathe him in. Sawdust and cinnamon. “What if the universe drew me back here to find you? For us to be together?”

  “We can’t be together,” I whisper. This revelation confirms it for me. Jebediah has been my cross to bear in life, and now I hold Nathan’s as well. He’s the last man I should be with. “Your story confirms what I’ve always known. You plus me equals catastrophe.”

  “Don’t say that.” Nathan’s hand cups my cheek and while I should reject his warm touch, I lean into it. For the first time, in a long time, I want the comfort of another person.

  “There’s no other explanation. There are a million what-ifs in this scenario, but the result remains the same. You left me. I called my brother. He’s dead.”

  Nathan’s eyes narrow. “You don’t really believe it’s that black and white. I know you. You don’t see with such tunnel vision.”

  “You don’t know me at all,” I state, confident in his lack of knowledge. “You’ve been searching for the girl in your head, in your memory, but she doesn’t exist. She’s dead, too. And I … I don’t think I know you either.”

  Nathan’s breath hitches, his chest expanding in disbelief. “Don’t say that. She’s right in front of me. I’m right in front of you.” The pain in his tone almost breaks me.

  “She’s not,” I say louder. I’m not her anymore. I’m not the girl dancing around the room with a drink in her hand flirting with all the boys. I surround myself with safe places. The library and books and my home with all the lights on.

  It’s like someone is waiting for me.

  I take a deep inhale, my lips trembling. Tears sting my eyes and my nose burns again.

  “I don’t know who you are,” I whisper.

  “Nae,” Nathan softly hisses.

  “Don’t call me that.” I pull back from his touch, no longer allowing myself to melt under the warmth of him, or the ashen tone of his voice, or the look in those silver eyes. He’s a full body seduction that I won’t allow to take me again. I refuse to fold under his spell.

  “The universe did speak once before, Nathan. It told you to leave me behind and it told me to accept that you didn’t call. It took my brother and that’s the end of us.” With tears leaking, I spin away from him and press open my door. I don’t look back as I close it, and once shut, I slump to the floor with my back against the wood.

  There will be no phone call tonight. He won’t remain in my yard. All our dates are done, proving what I’ve known all along. Nathan Ryder and me were never meant to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dewey Decimal Classification: 309 Customs, Etiquette, Folklore

  [Nathan]

  I’m stuck on you.

  I don’t want to let her go, but with the door closed in my face, I’ve lost her once again. Only this time, the only excuse I have is myself. My hands rest on either side of the casing while I press my forehead to the wood. I should bang on it, demand she let me it. Be the wolf that I am.

  But I can hear her response. Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin.

  She says she doesn’t hate me, but she’ll never love me after this. I don’t know how to get us back. I didn’t want it to end.

  On Saturday, I took her to the woods with the full intention of discussing what was next for us. Us. I wanted her to meet Dahlia and Clem outside the library. I wanted to introduce her to Todd and Big Poppy. I wanted Ma to see I found a good woman. Only here I am again. Alone.

  I press back from the door and stalk through the thick twigs and rough stems of foliage-free fauna. I turn back only once, watching as lights slowly go out in her house.

  She’s no longer waiting for someone.

  I’ve been found and lost once again.

  After a restless nights’ sleep, I wake with a heavy heart. I’d spent the night thinking about Naomi Winters. Her independence and yet her innocence. Her pride and y
et her personal punishment. Her guilt compared to mine, or should I say the guilt we share which is one and the same—her brother. And I decide I won’t walk away so easily this time. I need to fight for her. I need to show her I’ll come back for her. I’ll make that call I didn’t place. But first, I need her forgiveness.

  Arriving early to work, I cross next door to leave a collection of fall flowers and a pumpkin carved with the image of a jar releasing lightning bugs. I haven’t carved in years and typically wood is my medium, but we had the pumpkins and I needed to work my fingers. The image feels symbolic to me. Naomi and I each need to let our shame go, instead of containing it inside. In fact, maybe we need to release the blame by working through it together.

  The lightning bugs remind me of Naomi. She was a light in one of the darkest parts of my life. A spark when I was ready to commit myself to a club that would have led me down the wrong path. Maybe, just maybe, the universe intended her to be a flame of hope for me. It blew out too quickly. This time, I don’t want her to burn once and be out. I want her again and again.

  I leave my offering on her doorstep, smiling to myself with hope she’ll see it and it will lessen the pain I know she must feel after learning my role in her brother’s death. I don’t know what will make me feel better, but I believe her forgiveness will be enough. I also want her to have a sense of peace. She knows what happened to her brother. She knows what happened to me. Maybe this will give her what she needs to move on.

  Throughout the next week, I leave her little things. An extra-large, fallen leaf with a heart cut in the middle. Another poem with my feelings. A ‘thinking of you’ note on her windshield. A miniature doghouse I made which was intended for her hedgehog, Dewey. And through it all, she doesn’t call me, and I don’t call her. I give her space.

  But the day of Halloween, I’m coming out of my skin. It’s been nine days since we spoke, and I promised Clem I’d attend the Halloween party at the community center. Secretly, I’m attending because my Dandelion told me Naomi would be present. I’m hoping seeing her in a public setting will at least get her to speak to me, even if I feel like a heel using my child as the bait.