Torn (Summer In Winter)

by C. J. Scott

  He removed his hand from my breast and wrapped both arms around me. Holding me tight, almost too tight, like he needed me to anchor him.

  The back door banged. "Ryder?" his dad called. "You inside?"

  Ryder pulled away and stepped back. He stared at me, his eyes as round and wild as an animal's caught in headlights. He stood there, frozen to the spot, while I tried to catch my breath.

  "Jesus," he muttered. "What the hell—?" He turned away and pressed his hands on the table, palms flat. His breathing was as erratic as mine and just as heavy.

  Mr. Cavanagh strolled in, carrying two grocery bags. "There you are. Hi, Jane." He set the bags down on the table in front of Ryder. "Everything okay?" His gaze flicked between us. "Jane? What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," Ryder ground out. "I didn't do anything to her that she didn't want me to." It would seem he'd recovered from the kiss. I, on the other hand, was still short of breath and functioning brain cells.

  "Right," Mr. Cavanagh said, looking uncomfortable. "Of course."

  "She was just leaving. Weren't you, Jane?"

  I nodded and gave Mr. Cavanagh the best smile I could muster as I moved past him on my shaky legs. I should stay and talk to him, but I doubted Ryder would let him tell me anything important, and I was in no condition to force the issue. That kiss had weakened me, but worse, Ryder's dismissal of it—of me—had shredded what resolve I had left.

  CHAPTER 6

  The next two days were a blur. I helped Ben and Kate with the painting, sweated my way through more weeding, and went to work. Two out of three of those things didn't require me to do much thinking which was lucky because my brain was still stuck in the Cavanagh kitchen in that moment Ryder held my breast in his palm.

  Serving customers turned out to be a nightmare. I smiled my way through polite exchanges easily enough, but kept ringing up the wrong amounts on the register, or returning things to the wrong shelf. My boss was mostly patient with me, but when I smashed a glass vase, she pulled me aside.

  "This isn't like you, Jane," she snapped. "You're the one I can rely on."

  "I'm sorry, Elaine, my mind's elsewhere. There's stuff going on at home—"

  "Whatever it is, leave it at home. When you're here, I want your full attention. My patience is wearing thin from all your fuck-ups. Now go and clean up the mess before someone cuts themselves."

  I did as told. The following day I called in sick. I didn't want to break anything else.

  "I can help out today," I told Ben that morning over breakfast. He was dressed for another day of painting, this time the long hall that ran the length of the house. He handed me a plate of toast and I set it on the table.

  "I thought you were working?" He sat opposite me and took a piece of toast.

  I sighed and gave him the short version of my previous day. He winced when I repeated Elaine's words.

  "Harsh." He buttered a piece of toast and handed it to me, only to withdraw it at the last moment. I glared at him and he gave me a sly smile. "You know, if you turned this place into a B&B, you'd be working for yourself."

  I snatched the toast, leaving him holding the torn corner. "Technically I'd be working for Gran."

  "You can handle her. Besides, you'd be making all the decisions."

  It didn't sound like something I'd be very good at. On the other hand, being my own boss would be nice and not having to drive into Riverside would be a bonus.

  Or maybe I was just reacting to my bad day and should ignore him.

  "Jane," he said, leveling his gaze on me. "It's time we talked facts. You're not earning enough money to keep this place from ruin. It's a big house and it needs ongoing maintenance. I can get some part-time work now and help out, but that will slow down the renovations. And what happens when I leave town? Who'll do the heavy work if the renovations aren't complete?"

  I threw my toast on my plate, no longer hungry. "Do we have to talk about you leaving?"

  "Yes. I'm going wherever Kate goes."

  "I don't want to talk about it." I didn't want to think about it. I'd just gained a new member of my family, and he was already talking about moving on.

  "Jane, why are you avoiding this?" He sighed heavily. "Why do you insist on working in a job you hate when the house you love could be paying for itself?"

  "Because this is our home. Gran's home. Turning it into a tourist resort feels cold."

  "She might like the idea. You won't know until you ask her. Besides, it's not going to be a resort, it'll be an upmarket B&B. Cozy and friendly with a family feel. Anyway, I don't think that's the real reason you're hesitating."

  I got up to put the kettle on. "Oh? What is?"

  He didn't answer me straight away and I turned around. He gave me a pitying look, the same one I'd seen on Kate's and Beth's faces. "You think you're going to end up with Ryder Cavanagh."

  I snorted. "I do not."

  "You think you'll end up living at his house, or wherever he is, and you don't want to start turning this place around if you're not going to continue with it."

  "Did Kate tell you that?"

  "She told me about Ryder and I worked the rest out myself."

  I turned on the faucet and filled the kettle. "You're both wrong. I love this house and I'm staying here forever. I just don't want to risk putting money into an endeavor that might not pay off."

  "Sometimes you need to take risks, Jane. Believe me, I know. I took one coming here."

  I felt horrible. The risk he'd taken coming to Winter was far greater than the one he was asking me to take.

  I hadn't realized he'd stood until he gently took my elbow. "I want you to give it proper consideration, that's all. Think it through, form a business plan and talk to Mrs. M. If you both decide it's not something you want, then fine, I'll drop it. I just think it'll be good for you."

  I turned off the faucet and put the kettle on the element. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means you can't put your life on hold. Waiting for someone who's promised to return is one thing, but waiting for them when there's been no promise, only your own hopes, is a waste. It's time you did something for yourself, Jane, otherwise you'll never be truly happy."

  "I am happy." It didn't sound very convincing so I repeated it more strongly.

  Ben gave me a brief hug. "If you say so. Now, I've got work to do."

  "I'll help after I take up Gran's breakfast."

  He left and I prepared Gran's eggs and tea. I thought about what he'd said, but came to the same conclusion. He was wrong. Of course I wasn't waiting for Ryder to whisk me into his amazing life. This wasn't a Disney movie and I was no princess. Besides, Ryder was in no condition to whisk anyone into anything. His career was in some sort of crisis and I needed to help him fix that before I thought about how to bring in extra money for the house.

  I sighed. At least Kate had respected my plea and not told Ben about Ryder's rudeness, only that I had a crush on him. Now I just had to continue to keep my cousin from finding out. I didn't want them to get off on the wrong foot.

  Kate came mid-morning with a cake freshly baked by her mom. Ben and I cleaned up while Kate made tea. She brought it into the drawing room where Gran sat waiting. I think that time of day had quickly become Gran's favorite. If I wasn't working in Riverside, it was the time we all gathered in the drawing room for a break and chat. She was getting more social in her old age.

  "Here's your tea, Mrs. M," Kate said, handing Gran a cup and saucer.

  "Did you put the milk in first this time, Kathryn Bell?"

  "I do know how to make a proper cup, Mrs. M." Kate winked at me. I had a sneaking suspicion she put the milk in last just because she knew it wasn't how Gran liked it.

  Gran sipped and nodded. "Good girl. You're learning. It takes you Bells awhile, but you get there in the end."

  Ben chuckled into his teacup and Kate glared at him. She was about to sit when there was a knock at the door. "I'll get it. It's probably Beth. She said she was going to help ou
t today."

  Gran took the piece of cake I offered. "That's nice of her. They're nice people, the Ormonds, like the Bells and Cavanaghs," she said to Ben. "Speaking of which, why hasn't Ryder Cavanagh come to visit me yet? Jane, do you know?"

  "Um…"

  "Ah, speak of the devil."

  I swung round. Sure enough, Ryder filled the doorway, looking dangerous with his hair dripping over his eyes and his lips curved into a small, wicked smile. The devil indeed.

  Ben extended his hand. Ryder took it and they introduced themselves. So far, so good. I exchanged a glance with Kate and she shruggged.

  "Ryder Cavanagh, come over here and let me look at you." Gran set her tea and cake down on the table beside her and held out her hands.

  For a horrible moment I thought he wasn't going to move. He stood there, blinking at Gran, his hands thrust into his pockets. Then he crossed the floor, leaned down and pecked her cheek.

  I breathed out and sank back into my chair. Whatever Ryder was doing here, it wasn't to be rude to Gran, or to me in front of her.

  "Sit down," she said, smiling. "Talk to me. How is college?"

  Ryder looked at me for the first time since arriving and I shook my head. I hadn't told her anything. Whether he was relieved or not, I couldn't tell. His face was unreadable.

  "Well?" I prompted. "How is it?"

  "It's interesting," he said.

  "It's nice that they let you come home for the summer this year," Gran said.

  "Yeah. Very considerate of them."

  If she heard the tone of derision in his voice, she didn't show it.

  "So what can we do for you, Ryder?" Kate asked, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

  "Just a social call on Jane and Mrs. M."

  Me?

  "He doesn't need a reason," Gran said. "Jane, pour him some tea. Kathryn Bell, pass him a piece of cake. Ryder Cavanagh is welcome here any time."

  "I'm not staying," Ryder said. "Although you might not welcome me if you knew me now, Mrs. M."

  "Amen to that," Kate muttered. Ben frowned at her.

  The wrinkles on Gran's face drew together. "What are you talking about?"

  "I've changed since I was last in Winter." Ryder gave me a defiant smile, as if he were daring me to challenge him, or maybe agree with him. "Just ask Jane. I haven't been the nicest of friends to her lately."

  "Tosh." Gran flapped her hand. "You're a Cavanagh and Cavanaghs don't change."

  Kate gave a miffed laugh and received a glare from Gran.

  "I think you and I need to go for a walk," I told him. Getting him out of the house and away from Gran seemed like a good idea. He was in a dangerous mood. I didn't trust him and for some reason I didn't want her illusion of him to be shattered. Maybe because I wished I was still under the same illusion.

  He smirked. "You read my mind."

  "You came here to ask me to go for a walk with you?"

  "Does that shock you?"

  Yes! I merely shrugged. "Let's just go."

  He rose and said a polite goodbye to Gran. Ben and Kate walked with us to the front door.

  "Thanks for the escort," Ryder snipped.

  "Are you sure you should go, Jane?" Ben asked, one eye on Ryder. I got the feeling Kate would get the third degree from him after we left.

  "Of course," I said. "We'll be down by the river."

  Kate squeezed my hand and gave me a flat smile.

  "Jesus," Ryder muttered as we walked away. "You'd think I was taking you down to the river to drown you. Or worse," he added, quietly.

  "There's not a lot worse than death," I said, trying to be funny.

  He didn't laugh. "Thought I'd be safe from all that here," he muttered. "Guess I was wrong."

  "What do you mean 'safe'? Safe from what?"

  "Nothing."

  "No, Ryder, you don't get to make comments like that then not explain."

  "It's nothing!"

  "You know, your attitude is beginning to get on my nerves."

  "Finally," he muttered.

  I ignored him. It seemed to be the only thing that worked with Ryder. Don't poke the beast and with any luck, he'll stay in his lair. But I couldn't let him get away with brushing me off forever.

  Both our properties backed onto the river, but the trees had grown up and obscured the view from the houses. I walked down to our jetty every day to take in the sight of the gently flowing river. Trees crowded along the water's edge on both sides, but our bank was mostly sandy. There were no boats moored at the jetty anymore. We used to have a small dinghy but it had disappeared after the last flood and we'd not replaced it.

  I indicated the sand. "Want to stay here?"

  "Whatever."

  "Maybe we should. Wouldn't want to hurt your leg any more than it already is."

  He gave me a withering glare. "Is that your way of asking me why the torn ligament story?"

  "No, but you can tell me about it anyway if you want."

  "I don't want."

  "Fine." I sat on the sand and stretched out my legs. I wore my usual sort of skirt—denim and knee-length, and a fitted T-shirt. Ryder didn't look at me as he sat. He stared at the river where it snaked off into the distance, the deep blue-brown merging with the paler blue sky, lined with trees as far as the eye could see. Magical.

  "Tell me you don't miss this," I said.

  He pulled up his knees and looped his arms around them. "Not everyone likes trees and dirt. Some prefer civilization."

  "That doesn't answer my question. Besides, you're a country boy at heart. You prefer trees and dirt."

  "For fuck's sake, Jane, stop living in the past. Everything's different now. I'm different." He dug his hands into the warm sand then let the grains fall from his fingers. He didn't seem to be aware of what he was doing.

  "If you don't like dirt anymore, then why can't you stop touching it?"

  His hands stilled. He rolled his eyes. "I can't believe you're so…"

  "What? Naive? Sentimental?"

  "Stubborn."

  I tipped my head back and laughed. It felt good to laugh with Ryder again, although he wasn't exactly laughing along with me. It's possible he thought I was crazy if the strange look he was giving me was an indication.

  "I've always been stubborn," I said. "I've got both Merriweather and Forsythe blood in me. The word stubborn was branded on me at birth."

  Was it just my imagination or did his lips twitch? So Ryder Cavanagh still had a sense of humor. It may be buried deep under the baggage he was carrying, but it was there. There was hope for him yet.

  I lay down and closed my eyes, satisfied that I'd got some cracks to appear in his crabby facade. The sand and sun warmed me, relaxed me, and my mind drifted off. Unfortunately it drifted to thinking about the kiss I'd shared with Ryder in his kitchen. The taste of his lips, the smell of his skin, the way he'd touched my breast, and the throbbing reaction of my body. Would I ever feel those things again?

  His small sigh wrenched me fully awake. I opened my eyes just in time to see him look away sharply. Had he been watching me?

  Had he been going to kiss me again?

  I sat up slowly and stared straight ahead at the water. My face heated up like a beacon. I waited until my blush subsided and turned to him. It was time I stopped letting him dictate how our meetings went and took some control. If I had to drag the old Ryder out kicking and screaming, I would.

  "So you didn't come down here to look at the scenery," I said, "or talk about the reason you're back in Winter, and I doubt you want to reminisce about old times."

  He snorted. "You're right there."

  "So what did you bring me down here for?"

  His fingers traced swirling patterns in the sand. He seemed lost in thought, and I began to think he wouldn't answer me at all.

  "Are you sure you want to know?" he finally said.

  "Yes." My mouth went dry. Did I really? Hell yes! But only if my guess was right and he couldn't stop thinking about the kiss too

/>   He didn't kiss me. He turned that icy gaze on me and gave one of his cold smiles. There was no heat or tenderness in his face, no desire, just a mocking sneer. "The other day you told me you were loyal."

  I tried to recall the context of that conversation, but I couldn't. The kiss was the only clear memory I had of that day. "Okay," I said. "And?"

  "And now you get to prove it."

  So now he would kiss me?

  But no. He gave me a lazy, wicked smile. His hands stilled in the sand. What the devil was he up to?

  "What do you mean?" I hedged.

  "Prove it. Prove your loyalty."

  "How?"

  He hooked his finger in the neck of my T-shirt and pulled it down, exposing the flesh of my breast. His eyes glazed over. His lips flattened. "Sleep with me, Jane."

  CHAPTER 7

  I must have made a sound of agreement or nodded my head or something, because his reaction was fierce, yet totally unexpected. His eyes narrowed. The muscles in his jaw worked as if he were grinding his back teeth. He didn't look pleased in the least, but bitterly angry.

  Did he want to sleep with me or not?

  I would have asked, but the finger inside my top dipped into the V between my breasts and my brain froze.

  "I have one rule," he said, voice husky. "No kissing on the lips."

  "Okay." What else could I say? It seemed like a weird request, but I'd go along with it because no way was I giving up this opportunity. Finally I was going to live my dream. We'd talked about having a purpose before—well, this was mine. Losing my virginity to Ryder Cavanagh. I wouldn't ruin it by breaking his rule, and I wouldn't worry about the consequences of how this might affect our relationship.

  There was another consequence I did think about. "Do you have a condom?"

  He removed his finger and fished in his pocket. He pulled out a silver packet. "Worried you might catch something from the player?"

  I hadn't thought about STDs, only pregnancy. "Ryder, what's wrong? Do you want to do this or not?"

  "I'm a guy. Of course I want to. Take off your clothes."