Relentless Desire (Relentless Romances Book 1)

by Amber Burns

  “Sounds like you’ve got every reason to be angered, ma’am.” I smiled through the fake sympathy. Vanna had me jumping through all sorts of hurdles. This went against my blunt nature to say how things were. Amos Fuller didn’t lie unless he was backed against a wall.

  “That I do.” She nodded hard enough to shake the excessive layers of skin under her jaw. “If I wasn’t so busy cleaning and cooking house, I’d go down to that Tilda Sterling’s house and drag my Mindi out of there.”

  “Tilda?” I asked, prodding for more information.

  “Donald Sterling’s younger sister, the bride’s aunt, and the host of this party my Mindi’s gone off to.” She wrinkled her nose and shook her head while muttering, “No God-fearing woman, that one.”

  “Where does Tilda Sterling live?” I asked and she was back to looking at me. The intrigue was like a live spark in her eyes. “I have a gift for the bride.”

  She uncrossed her arms, lifted the garbage, and resumed moving in the direction of the large black receptacle at the edge of her lawn and property.

  “Let me help you with that.” I hauled the garbage up while she was busy flipping back the lid. I dropped it in and shut the lid before brushing my hands off and meeting her lifted chin and glinting eyes.

  “As much as I hate Tilda, the last thing I need is to be sending over menfolk she might not want. I don’t care for this to be circlin’ round to me.”

  “And it won’t, ma’am. I promise you that.”

  “Long as I don’t hear’a this again, you’ll find Tilda’s so-called home on Season Lane. Thirty-four Season Lane to be exact.” She sighed and wistfully glanced at her house. “Only wish I could go with you myself, pull my Mindi out there, box her smart on the ears, and bring her on home with me.”

  I tried not to laugh at the image of her causing hell. Honestly, I believed that she would be a force to reckon with. I noted that she could be a great distraction, if I needed one later on.

  She was swinging into giving me directions when I cut her off, “No need, ma’am, we have GPS. Thank you for your help.”

  I lingered to give her a nod and a smile, this one actually authentic. River was already back to the passenger side door of my rental. Somehow, I’d convinced him to let me drive us.

  “Got your information, or are we setting up camp?”

  “No need for the tent, yet.”

  I started the car and pulled away from the curb in front of the empty Sterling house. In hindsight, I was glad that I bumped into Mindi Lou’s grandmother rather than Mr. and/or Mrs. Sterling.

  “Do you mind?” I asked, pointing to his phone. “Thirty-four Season Lane.”

  The app took a few moments to figure out where we were and where we wanted to go before it popped with directions and an ETA. Apparently the party was a twelve-minute drive from here.

  “The treasure we’re looking for located at 34 Season Lane, Sergeant?”

  “Not the kind you’re referring to, First Lieutenant.” I didn’t take my eyes off the road, but I felt River’s smile, which had me smiling too.

  “Really can’t answer me, Amos? You’ve no idea what kind of treasure I’m thinking of?”

  “I could say the same for you.” I shrugged and kept my eyes out for Season Lane, then house number thirty-four.

  He was beating round the bush, but I wasn’t going to bite. Besides, he’d see what kind of treasure I was thinking of.

  I found the house to my left but also found that there was little parking to be had. I pulled a U in the fairly empty road, then parked behind the line of cars that spilled in front of the neighbor’s charmer of a bungalow.

  “Lovely place,” River commented.

  He was waiting, sans his coat jacket, for me to round the front of the car. Once I reached him, he let me lead up the cracked path that split the dry, browned lawn in half. The short three stone steps to the front door called for some serious renovation, just like the rest of the house.

  Much like the Sterling place, Vanna’s aunt Tilda needed to find both a contractor and designer to spruce up the place. The neighbors didn’t fare any better. It seemed like the whole street was falling down where home improvements, or even just basic maintenance, were concerned.

  It was a sobering reminder to wake up, open my eyes, and remember that Vanna grew up in Rosebay. She spent years with these people and these places surrounding her. I should be grateful to anywhere and anyone that brought her into my life.

  River reached around me and knocked on the less painted, more metal door. He smiled impishly and said, “Looks like you needed help there.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  He was right though. If he hadn’t knocked, we probably would have stood out there long enough for me to convince myself that this was all a mistake.

  Sounds came from inside, and then the door swung open. I was met with the wide, surprised eyes of a middle-aged woman. I couldn’t imagine what went through her mind when she opened the door to find two large and very intimidating guys on her doorstep.

  “Hello there,” I said before floundering for something else to say, some kind of explanation to why we were on her doorstep.

  Come in, come in. You’re letting all the cold in.” She ushered us in while sweeping the cotton-candy pink veil that flowed down from a fake tiara that was sitting snuggly tucked into her hair.

  “Ok…” I said and tried to keep myself small as the three of us squeezed into the small entrance.

  I couldn’t imagine how River was feeling. I glanced back to find him standing sideways, his back to the overflowing closet. He was looking cool for a guy who was packed into this sardine of a home.

  Our hostess, who was somehow balancing on her ridiculously thick clear pumps, was pulling down her miniskirt and leading us further into the house.

  “Take off your shoes and come on,” she instructed. She was then waving us closer from the doorway down the hall. “We’ve got just about everyone here tonight.”

  We did as she said, and I was suddenly hoping we were at the right address and Vanna was actually somewhere in this place. River was still letting me lead, and I stepped into a room that had me bearing the brunt of nearly two dozen eyes. I froze in the door way, giving River just enough room to see what we were dealing with.

  “A hen party,” he muttered under his breath, a sigh right behind it.

  We’d walked right into a fucking hen party and the gaping jaws of ten women, hostess included. It hadn’t occurred to me, as obvious as it might have seemed, since nothing about this situation screamed Vanna.

  My sweet, shy Vanna.

  There was no way she put this together.

  I scanned the room, searching for the woman I was here to convince to leave with me, but she wasn’t sitting in the living room among these women who were dressed to go party at a club. They were all sitting around the living room on worn couches and the questionable carpeting. In the center of the room stood a coffee table which held a mother-lode of alcohol.

  I stepped aside and approached the dark-haired woman who had let us in, “Sorry for interrupting –”

  “Shh.” She pressed a finger to her pursed, red lips. “We’re not here for anything but fun tonight.” I sly grin crossed her lips as her balance wavered a bit.

  “Actually, I’m – we’re here to see Vanna. Vanna Sterling,” I added the last part in case I had seriously made a mistake on the address. And here I thought I could trust Mindi Lou’s grandmother. I glanced at the faces of the other women. The ladies mostly ranged from middle age to a couple who were almost as old as my Grandmamma.

  “You’re not the strippers?” she asked like I hadn’t asked my own question. She was obviously more than a little bit tipsy.

  Behind me, I heard River guffaw. He tried to quickly mask it as a cough, but the humor was still crinkling his eyes.

  I’m glad one of us finds this hilarious.

  “No, no strippers here. I really need to see –”

  “Oh, no y
ou don’t. No making demands, Mister. This is my home, my rules,” she slurred before grabbing two shot glasses, one of them right out of the hand of one of the other girls.

  One glass was shoved into my hand, while she helped herself to the other. Her shot was met with catcalls and whoops from the other guests. I didn’t touch my shot.

  “Whatsa mattah? Not fun for you?” she asked, eyeing my still full glass.

  “You’re Tilda Sterling?”

  “Seems know my name, stud. What’s yours?”

  Now that I knew that I was in the right location, I took a couple steps into the living room and handed the glass back to its original owner.

  “Amos Fuller, and I’m here for Vanna.”

  There were more catcalls and one lady, who rivaled our hostess in intoxication, latched onto my thigh. She tugged on my jeans, trying to get my attention, and asked, “You ain’t Vanna’s husband? She got a man on the side up from where she came from?”

  I wasn’t going to bother answering that.

  “Can I speak to Vanna?” I pressed. “It’s urgent.”

  “My niece is on time out, right ladies?” the hostess said to a chorus of cheers and whoops.

  Time out? What the hell does that mean?

  I ask my hostess that, minus the cursing.

  “She doesn’t want to have fun!” she said like it was the most obvious thing ever. “And we don’t want party-poopers, even the,” she leaned in to whisper, “bride.” Before straightening and adding, “So she’s on baby duty, since we’re too fun for her.”

  “Where?” I tried to keep my tone pleasant, or at least polite. I didn’t want to get turned out now that Vanna was this close.

  Tilda looked down the adjacent hall towards three rooms, one of which had to be the bathroom and the others bedrooms, given the layout of the one-story spread.

  I started to move down the hall, planning on checking each of the rooms until I found my girl. I didn’t, however, count on being such a prized object. For such a small thing, Tilda had a hold on me that rivaled someone twice her height and body mass.

  “Stay, handsome. Let’s party.”

  I was beginning to wonder where Tilda’s husband was, considering she had said she had a child. He needed to monitor this hellion of a woman. Mindi Lou’s grandma was right on all counts.

  It was a struggle to get Tilda off of me. She was worse than a leach, and I was sure she was just half a second away from climbing me, wrapping her legs around my middle, and having her creepy way with me.

  I almost forgot that River was with me, until he materialized by my side and removed Tilda’s arms. Vanna’s drunk-ass aunt transferred her attention to River, and he was taking it like a champ.

  If I hadn’t of know that he could handle Tilda, I wouldn’t have left him alone with her. But, we both knew that Iris would be more than capable of hurting him if he cheated; thankfully we all knew that River wasn’t sleazy scum.

  “Go on. I’ll keep the ladies company.”

  River had my back. If it had been me, I might have backed out the door and waited in the car. My look of appreciation didn’t go unnoticed either. River tilted his head up, gesturing down the hall, and I didn’t need any other signal.

  Vanna wasn’t in the closest bedroom, and I found out the middle was a bathroom when I knocked and got an “occupied” yelled out with a giggle. She ended up being in the master at the end of the hall, and when she spotted me, she looked shocked enough to nearly drop the wriggling purple bundle in her arms.

  “Amos!” she got out in a loud whisper.

  Her glance flitted down to the precious carriage in her arms. The baby was two, maybe three months old, and the blonde child cooed at Vanna’s bouncing and soft humming.

  She was mother material, and even squeezed in a corset and a gaudy tutu-inspired skirt, Vanna was the center of my attention… my world.

  I gently closed the door behind me, leaned back against the wall, and watched her. She didn’t look up until the child’s wriggling stilled, hinting at the sleep of the innocents. She sat down on the edge of the bed and raised her gaze to me.

  “Why?” was all she said.

  Not ‘how’ or ‘what’, she’s jumped right into the deep end. Maybe Vanna changed in the week since I had last seen her.

  Her dark hair was coiled - the upper section of her hair clipped high, the lower section cascading over her shoulders - and her lips were light pink. There was blush brushed over her cheekbones while her lashes were darker and longer.

  She looked exactly like how I’d picture her in our bedroom-turned-nursery, caring for our baby.

  Vanna, you ruined me. You ruined me and broke my heart.

  “Wes and Violet.” I struggled with the words and tried to gain a handle on my emotions so I could continue. “They were worried after you left without a word, and then when your parents told them you were getting married...” I trailed off there and gave a light shrug, like the rest should be obvious.

  “Oh.”

  She dropped her head and touched a finger to the bundle. I moved away from the door, drawn to her action. Vanna was stroking the sleeping child’s cheek, and I was mesmerized by her adoring expression, dewy eyes, and parted lips.

  “Boy?” I hazarded.

  “Girl,” she whispered. “Tabitha. We call her Tabby, though.”

  It was a toss-up as to who had my attention more, Vanna or little Tabby.

  “Why?” I whispered.

  It was my turn to seek elusive reasoning. Vanna and this marriage just wasn’t adding up. We had seemed so in synch before she shoved me off the boat without a life-vest. Metaphors aside, she had crushed me and, being the only woman to hold that especial accolade, I wanted to know why.

  “I-I don’t know what you want me to say.” She was looking at the child, but those heart-breaking words were directed to me. “I just am, Amos. And you shouldn’t be here.”

  I heard the stammer; it was light, but it was there. She was lying, and I seized onto the opening she gave me.

  “Do you love him?” Her head swiveled in my direction. Confusion held her expression, and I added, “The guy you’re about to marry and bind yourself to for the rest of your life. Do you love him?”

  Her attention turned back to Tabby, Vanna sighed, “Please don’t.”

  Ignoring her plea, I repeated, “Do you love him? Yes or no, Vanna? Do you love your husband-to-be?”

  It was the last thing I wanted to ask, too. Believe me, Vanna. But it was the only tie holding me to her.

  “I’m marrying him, aren’t I?” she tried.

  “That’s not an answer.”

  She lowered her face, her lips ghosted over Tabby’s forehead. “It’s not about love,” she said when she moved up.

  I fell down onto one knee and was just an arm’s length from her.

  “You don’t believe that.” I whispered, knowing it to be true, knowing it from our passionate encounters. Our moments together had brought wallflower Vanna to life; she bloomed in my arms over and over. It was too much for me to ignore the evidence and let that lame excuse of a response go. “You don’t believe that any more than I do. You have so much love and life to give; you wouldn’t throw it away on a loveless marriage. It’s not you, Vanna, so don’t lie to me and yourself.”

  Her mouth was quivering, and her lashes were ringing watering eyes.

  Shit, she’s going to cry.

  I recalled what Wes had said. She’d cried after I left, cried for six days after our breakup. If there was a time to close the physical and emotional distance, it was then.

  On both knees now, I moved to lean in front of her and my hands cupped her bare knees while my thumbs stroked the soft flesh.

  “Vanna, what are you doing?”

  “I-I don’t know.” She sobbed softly and sniffled much louder. The baby stirred, causing her drop both her voice and gaze. She was still shaking her head, and she repeated, “I don’t know.”

  “It’s not too late, sweetheart
. Not too late to shut this ugly mistake down now, and if anyone says otherwise, they’ll have to answer to me.”

  Her sobs were rocking through her, shaking the baby. I reached out for Tabby’s bundle, still amazed how such a cute child could be produced by Vanna’s aunt Tilda.

  Vanna saw what I was angling for and turned around, hooking her knee over the side of the bed to stretch and lay Tabby down. Baby out of harm’s way, I climbed on the bed beside Vanna, drew my arms around her middle, and brought her against me.

  It was the first time I held her since we had had sex in Pearlwater. She didn’t struggle out of my embrace either. Instead, she sunk back against me and her head lolled to rest against my shoulder. Hands over mine, she squeezed and let out a content sigh. I looked down to find her gazing over at Tabitha.