by Brenda Novak
Blinking away her tears, she used the counter to help her back to her feet. She told herself she’d have him over for dinner sometime to thank him, but she didn’t want him to have to wait that long to receive the acknowledgment he deserved. So she went into the bathroom to fix up a little, pulled on her best pair of jeans and a V-neck T-shirt and walked over to see if his light was still on.
Sure enough, it was.
She felt oddly nervous as she approached his front porch and knocked. Was it too late to bother him? Should she hold off until tomorrow, after all?
When he didn’t answer immediately, she turned to go. But the door opened before she could travel more than ten steps, and she could tell by the way he was still messing with his shirt that she’d once again caught him half-dressed—only this time he’d hurried to put on something.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re back.”
“Yeah.” She tucked her hair behind her ears as she returned to the stoop. “Sorry to bother you so late. I wanted to thank you for...for fixing the heater and the windows and all the other stuff you did. I can’t tell you what a surprise that was.”
“You’re welcome.”
She loved his smile. “I hope you don’t come to regret that I moved in next to you. Now that I have the basics, I’ll try not to be such a nuisance.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I fix stuff for a living, so it wasn’t hard.”
“I saw the cereal and milk, too. That’ll make tomorrow easier. I meant to pick up a few groceries, but then the kids fell asleep in the car and I forgot.”
“No problem. Did you get an SUV?”
“Those in my price range had too many miles on them. But I got a car.” She gestured toward her house. “Would you like to see it?”
“Sure. Let me grab my flip-flops.”
Since he left the door standing open, Savanna couldn’t help peering into his living room while he was gone. She’d seen it before, when she was there with the kids while he booked her that motel room, but now that she knew him better, she was a little more interested in taking note of the details. His place was clean, manly and decorated in neutral colors. She remembered that. What she hadn’t paid much attention to before was the fabulous art hanging on the walls.
When he returned, she gestured toward a big canvas depicting a forest of redwoods centered above his couch. “That’s a cool painting. Where’d you get it?”
“My brother’s the artist.”
“Eli?”
“No, Eli helps our mother run New Horizons. It’s my other brother Seth.”
“How many siblings do you have?”
He hesitated as if there was a story behind that question. But he must’ve opted not to tell it to her because when he answered, he didn’t elaborate. “Seven brothers.”
“Wow! That’s a lot. Does Seth live here in town?”
“No, he’s in San Francisco.”
“He’s talented!”
“Seriously. I used to buy a lot of his stuff. His work really speaks to me. But it’s getting pricey these days.”
“He doesn’t give you a family discount?” she teased.
“He gives me a free piece here and there—for my birthday or Christmas. But he has some...issues that sometimes come between us. They come between him and everyone actually. He tends to wall himself off.”
“I’m sorry, especially because you’re obviously one of his biggest fans.”
“It didn’t help that he got married several months ago and lost his wife only weeks after.”
“To...”
“Sepsis. She got bit by a stray cat she was trying to help, went into the hospital and never came out.”
“How tragic.”
“Especially for someone like Seth. He doesn’t open his heart very often.”
She studied him. “You seem to do the opposite.”
“As far as I’m concerned, life only gets harder when you insist on going it alone.”
“You’d rather open yourself up to loss?”
“Loss is part of life. There’s no way to avoid it.”
She’d never met anyone like Gavin, she decided. He wasn’t arrogant. Didn’t act as though he was always right or that his opinion mattered more than everyone else’s. He seemed calm, forgiving, patient—and wise beyond his years. So what had he done as a teenager to be sent to a boys ranch? “I hope I can be as brave as you someday.”
Their eyes met—and something spine-tingling passed between them, something Savanna hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Her heart began to race, and she grew a little short on breath by the time she looked away.
“You’re going to be fine,” he said.
That seemed to be true, now that she had him as a neighbor. He’d already made a huge difference in her life. “Thanks for being there for me, even though I’m new and you don’t know me very well.”
“That’s what friends are for. Let’s go see your car.”
8
Gavin tried to keep his attention on Savanna’s vehicle, but it wasn’t easy. What had happened back at his house? The way her gaze had fallen to his lips had almost tempted him to move in for a kiss.
“Gets decent gas mileage, too,” she was telling him, still listing the features of the Fusion as he slowly circled the sedan.
“What’d you drive before?”
“An old Honda that had a big dent in the back. So even though this could hardly be considered a luxury car, it’s several years newer and it’s not wrecked. That’s a step up.”
Her phone went off. Surprised that she’d get a call so late, Gavin saw her look down at it and watched as the excitement and enthusiasm she’d exhibited a moment before dimmed.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
After first acting as though she’d shrug off the interruption, she seemed to reconsider her answer. “No. But there’s nothing I can do about it, so...it is what it is.”
Although “it” was none of his business, he could tell that call troubled her even if she didn’t care to admit it. “Was that Gordon?”
Confusion drew her eyebrows together. “How do you know my ex-husband’s name? Have I mentioned him to you?”
“Once, the day you moved in. You didn’t provide a last name, but his first name was enough.”
She blinked at him. “For what?”
“To be able to figure out why you moved to California alone with the kids.”
She didn’t seem pleased that he knew. “His first name was all it took to give away my recent past?”
Gavin came around the front of the car. “You mentioned a little more than that. A simple Google search did the rest.”
Folding her arms, she leaned against the driver’s-side door. “I should’ve made up a name for him and a whole new background for myself, but...that’s not as easy as it sounds, especially when you’ve got kids who know the truth and will correct anything you say,” she added ruefully.
“It’s too hard to be anything other than yourself, anyway.” He tilted his head to get her to look up at him again. “Don’t you think?”
“I think it’s better than carrying Gordon’s legacy along with me.”
He leaned against the driver’s side, too, next to her but not touching. “Why do you care if people know? Are you afraid they’ll gossip about you? That you’ll be put on the spot and have to explain?”
“I don’t want to be connected to something so horrible and embarrassing. And I don’t want to have to justify what I did or didn’t know like I had to do in Nephi. That’s why I moved. I’m tired of people assuming I must be stupid, or as bad as Gordon, simply because I was married to him.”
She seemed so beleaguered he couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. “You won’t be treated like that here. Silv
er Springs is far enough from the victims and their families that no one is emotionally invested in the situation. That’ll make a big difference. Anyway, I’m not going to tell anyone.”
She slanted him a glance. “You didn’t tell Eli?”
She was testing him; he could hear it in her voice. “No.” Now he was glad he could say that.
“I guess it doesn’t matter either way. There’s no avoiding the fact that I was married to a serial rapist.” She kicked a pebble across the drive. “I’ll never be able to escape it.”
“How’d you get a divorce so fast?” He was under the impression their breakup had been as recent as Gordon’s arrest, only a month ago.
“The divorce isn’t technically final,” she admitted. “But I’ve filed. The marriage is over. We’ll never be together again. And if Gordon gets convicted, he won’t be able to contest it. The paperwork will go fast from there.”
“What if he doesn’t get convicted?”
“I can’t even think of that right now.”
Gavin could understand why. As hard as it would be to have a husband who’d raped three women and been sentenced to prison, it would be harder still to have a husband who’d raped three women and gotten away with it. Then Gordon would be around to fight the divorce and/or pursue custody or visitation. And how could she let her children go with him on the weekends if there was even a small chance it wasn’t safe? “But is it a possibility?” Gavin persisted. “Even a remote one? Or is the case too strong?”
She leaned back to stare up at the sky. “Anything’s possible, I guess. The police seem to believe they have an open-and-shut case. But the lawyer I hired to defend Gordon—some expensive bigwig by the name of Howard Detmer—told me it was winnable.”
“Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“At the time. I thought he was innocent.”
“And now?”
She rubbed her forehead. “I’ve changed my mind.”
Gavin told himself to ease off with the nosy questions. This was obviously a difficult subject. But she didn’t sound completely convinced of where she stood, which surprised him. “I take it he hasn’t confessed.”
“No. That would make things easier, of course. But when I look back, I see certain warning signs despite what he has to say.” She rubbed her palms on her thighs. “Maybe that’s why the past month has been so hard. I let everyone down, especially the women he attacked, by not knowing what those warning signs indicated.”
Gavin slid a little closer. “What warning signs are you talking about?”
“He’d get mad if I ever got into his things. Was super private. And he’d clam up, would hardly talk to me for days. I thought he was just moody, you know? He had a difficult childhood and has struggled to make peace with his mother’s alcoholism and neglect. So I tried to give him the space to cope.” Her voice hardened. “Little did I know what he was doing with all of that space...”
Images Gavin didn’t care to see rose in his mind. “He didn’t ever get violent with you or the kids, did he?”
“No. Then maybe I would’ve had a real clue, something to prepare me for the shock of what he was doing when he was supposedly at work.”
Gavin breathed a little easier. “Did he ever talk about bondage or that sort of thing?”
“Never. If he had violent fantasies, rape fantasies, he didn’t say a word. He knew how horrified I’d be, which is probably why.” She toyed with the ends of her hair. “But...”
Her words trailed off, so he prompted her to continue. “But?”
“In order for him to get aroused enough to...to climax during sex, he had to—” She stopped as if she didn’t generally discuss such intimate details with anyone, let alone a new neighbor. “Never mind.”
Gavin nudged her with his elbow. “You might as well finish. We’ve talked about dildos, remember?”
She laughed in spite of the seriousness of the subject. “I still can’t believe I made that comment. I’ve never said anything like that to anyone else.”
“You can always speak your mind with me.”
She studied him as if she was trying to decide whether it was really safe to be that open and trusting. “Fine,” she said. “He’d put his hands around my throat like this while we were making love.”
As she stepped in front of him and her cool, small hands slid around his throat, Gavin couldn’t help feeling defensive of her. “Did he ever squeeze too tight?”
Her hands dropped away and she stepped back. “There was only one time when I had to tell him I couldn’t breathe.”
“What’d he do then?”
“He came before letting go. But it happened right away. And I believed he loved me, that he’d hung on a pinch too long because he was so close to orgasm and wasn’t thinking clearly. Besides, he apologized.”
“How’d you feel about that kind of sex play?”
“I hated it. Believe me, there are plenty of other places I’d rather have a man’s hands, places that feel a lot better.”
All the blood in Gavin’s body rushed to his groin. Her ex hadn’t treated her right, and he couldn’t help craving the opportunity to rectify that. “But no one wants to be accused of being a bad sex partner, someone who refuses to be a little adventurous, so you tolerated it.”
“Everything in a marriage comes down to compromise,” she said.
Still battling an onslaught of testosterone, he tucked the hair that’d come out of the tie holding the rest back behind his ears. “Surely, not all marriages are difficult.”
“I would hope not, but why take the risk?”
“A good marriage must be as wonderful as a bad marriage is terrible, I guess.”
She glanced over at him again. “You’ve never been married?”
“No.”
“And you’re...what? Twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”
“Twenty-nine.”
She moved the dirt on her driveway around with one toe. “Since you’ve been asking me some pretty tough questions, I have one for you.”
The wind was growing stronger. Gavin pulled the tie out of his hair, gathered it all back and secured it more tightly. “Shoot.”
“Have you had any long-lasting relationships?”
“I was with someone named Winn for a couple of years, but we were barely out of high school, too young to even consider marriage.” He thought of Heather, who’d come much later. He wondered if he was being fair to leave her out, but they’d never been together for more than a few months at a time, and she’d never been anyone he’d considered marrying—until now.
“Where’s Winn these days?” Savanna asked.
“Living in LA, building a family with someone else.”
“Do you ever regret the breakup?”
“Not really. We’re still friends, and that’s enough for me.”
“You keep in contact with her?”
“I keep in contact with most of the women I’ve dated.”
“That’s kind of odd, isn’t it?”
“Why would it be? I care about them, as friends.”
“Is Winn happy in her marriage?”
He crossed his legs at the ankles. “I don’t think she’s terribly unhappy. She echoes what you said—marriage is a compromise.”
“I’ll never marry again, never be willing to put up with so much or try so hard to make the best out of something bad. But I always wanted a family, so once I made that commitment, I figured I needed to be happy with what I had.”
Gavin grinned to lighten the mood. “And now that you have the kids, you no longer need a man. You’re free to become a lesbian.”
She stared over at him. “You’re so different—like a pretty rock that you almost step over because you assume it’s the same as all the others. But then you pick it up and
realize how lucky you are to have found it.”
As a child, he’d been a rock no one wanted. Even his father hadn’t cared enough to fight his stepmother to keep him. And because of Savanna’s word choice, which was what he got from people who didn’t approve of his long hair or tattoos, he wasn’t sure she meant it entirely as a compliment. “A pretty rock?”
He thought she might back away from that statement, now that he’d questioned her word choice, but she didn’t. She seemed completely unapologetic in her opinion. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. And it has nothing to do with your long hair. Everything works together just...perfectly.”
Gavin was tempted to pull her to him. She was shivering, and he wanted to warm her. He wanted to stand behind her and shore her up in other ways, too. Working at the ranch, he’d had a lot of practice patching up broken hearts. Like his adoptive mother, fixing things, fixing people, came second nature to him. If not for that, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t have been able to patch himself up after what he’d been through. So many of his brothers struggled worse, especially Seth.
His tendency to gravitate toward broken things made him wonder, though. Was part of his attraction to Savanna due to the fact that she needed someone so badly? He felt that was a suggestion Aiyana would’ve made, and his mother was usually right. She could read people so well. But if Heather was pregnant, she needed him, too, and yet he had far less desire to be with her.
“Are you still paying that expensive lawyer to defend Gordon?” Gavin asked.
“No. After I lost confidence in Gordon’s innocence, I fired Detmer and asked for the balance of my retainer.”
She was rubbing her arms for warmth as she replied, so he shoved off the car. “You’re cold. I’ll let you go inside. Thanks for showing me your new ride.”
After a brief hesitation, she caught his arm. “Why don’t you come in with me? I can’t offer you anything except a glass of milk—and that’s only because you got it in the first place—but it feels nice to talk to someone. You have such a...a measured way of looking at problems.”
