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Broken in Love (Studs in Stetsons Book 2)

Page 17

by Megan Hetherington


  My fingers splay across the empty mattress space beside me.

  We both went to bed early and for the first time since we’ve been together there was no sex. Carson said he didn’t want to harm the baby, especially after I’d miscarried before, which is so caring of him, but at the same time super annoying because it seems my hormones have kicked in already and I’m horny as hell.

  But then to be up so early is not like him. He likes his cuddles in a morning. To spoon me until it’s way past his time to get up.

  I fold my arms against the cool morning air as I pad through to the kitchen. He’s sitting on the porch, rocking in his chair, as he looks out across the lake.

  For a moment I watch him. He’s got something on his mind. I take a deep breath before stepping out onto the wood deck. I dip my head and kiss him gently on his lips before slinking down on to the matching chair next to him.

  Carson’s expression is not good. I’d go so far as to say it’s the most somber I’ve ever seen it. He looks like Blue used to. Like he has a lot on his mind. But this time, I can’t ignore that look like I would with Blue in the hope I could turn him around any time he was ready to leave me. Tell me it was over. The air filled with those words every time he had that look even though his mouth never moved. And as soon as it did, I would leave the room or say something to divert the conversation. But I’m not playing that game with Carson. Last night I delivered the most amazing news to him and yet this morning he looks like I’ve told him it’s over.

  “What’s up?”

  He rests back on the chair and looks me square in the eyes. “We need to talk.”

  “Just a minute.” I buy some time to grab a bottle of water from the fridge and offer it over to him as I curl back down on the chair. With a slight shake of his head I unscrew the lid in preparation. It’s a prop. Something for me to hold when he starts this tough conversation. Something for me to put to my lips when all I want to do is scream at him or, worse, press my lips on his to silence him. Sit on his lap. Rub over his jeans until he is hard for me. All of those thoughts and tactics rush through my mind. My strong sense of survival, nurtured through those early years getting by with an absent father and a wayward mother.

  “I haven’t slept.” He delivers the words in a monotone fashion.

  No shit, Sherlock. “Why?” I’m surprised I’m having to pull this hard. I’m no sadomasochist but I’m also no fool. If there’s something wrong between us I need to know. And then deal with it.

  “Because…” he breathes overly loud to make sure I’m prepared for the bombshell. The knock back. I can see it coming a mile off, like he’s got those lights spinning and the handcuffs ready. “I’m confused.”

  I bite my lip and unscrew the cap completely.

  “We’ve never had unprotected sex. You told me that yourself.”

  I blurt out a laugh and pull my chin into my neck, blood rushing to my head with the accusation that rings in my ears. “You don’t think this baby is yours?”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m just confused by it.”

  “It’s not impossible, you know. One of the condoms could have been defective.”

  “I guess.”

  “There was that time in the lake and before then…” I struggle to flick through the memories of the times we’ve had sex, searching for that time when he forgot to put on a condom. “That first time, remember?”

  He nods but with a hard-set jaw.

  Anger builds in my stomach and bubbles up my throat. I take a swig on the bottle but it’s not enough to quell my frustration. “I haven’t had sex with anyone else. Despite what people around here may think. I’ve only ever slept with you and Blue.”

  Even through my anger I notice his eyes harden.

  I gasp. “You don’t think I’ve been with Blue, do you?”

  His cheeks inflate like he will explode with the statement that is about to be unleashed. I stop breathing, overcome with the fright.

  “No. I don’t think you’ve been with Blue but… Lemon, I love you like no other. Believe me, this is my dream and every day I can’t believe we’re together. Which is why I find myself questioning everything.” His hands loosen and for a moment his eyes unlatch before he looks back at me. “Honestly, I wish you and Blue had never been together and I repeatedly kick myself for not telling you how I felt before you even noticed him.”

  “What? When we were at school?”

  With the back of his hand he pushes a lock of hair away from my face. “Yes. And I hate that I am doing this to you now.”

  “What, Carson? What are you doing to me?” My pulse clatters in my ears.

  He pulls me into his chest. “Doubting this can be so perfect. That there must be something that could lever us apart.” He places a hot, soft kiss on my forehead. “I love you Lemon, for better or for worse and nothing will come between us. Nothing.”

  Why do I feel like there is something? “Are you sure?”

  “Never been more sure. But nothing is simple, as you well know, and I’ve found something out that we have to talk about.”

  He steps back and sits in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face.

  I sit too, taking a gulp of water and wishing he would just get on with it.

  “Do you remember any more about the night you was attacked?”

  I freeze for a second, the lid hovering over the neck of the bottle. “No. Why?” I’m thrown by the subject of his questioning. I thought this conversation was about us. Not that night.

  “Did you know that Blue has been interviewed over it?”

  “Blue?” My mind screams at me while I fight to keep a calm exterior. “What’s it got to do with Blue?”

  He sits back in his chair, staring at me like I might imagine him looking at a suspect. “His alibi wasn’t watertight and the attack happened after you texted him.”

  Shit. I know I did that, but to me it seemed quite banal. Just wishing him well, as any friend might. But I deleted that text and didn’t tell Carson about it, or anyone else, and that makes it seem like I was hiding it from him.

  “So, you think because I didn’t tell you about that text, I’m still in love with him? Slept with him and lied about the baby being yours? If that was true why the hell would I try to pass the baby off as yours? Don’t you think I would have been over the moon about that? If you can’t trust me, then it’s over between us.”

  The air implodes around us, sucking everything I’ve just said into a hand grenade and then throwing it high so it blows everything we have apart.

  Why in the living hell did I just say that, in that way?

  “I didn’t mean it that way, I meant…”

  His chair scrapes like fingernails on a chalkboard across the wood floor.

  “I’m going to work,” he shunts out gruffly.

  Tears mist my vision.

  I rush to the door, but it’s too late; his tires skid on the dirt track as he speeds away.

  No. No. No. This can’t be happening.

  What the hell was I thinking? I clasp my hand to my head and turn on the spot. I scrabble around for my phone, pacing the floor while I call his number. Again and again.

  I feel sick but have no time for that now.

  I run out and clamber into my car and reverse, recklessly close to the corner of the porch. All the way through to the police office I try calling Carson.

  By the time I pull up outside the municipal office, I’m a blubbering mess, hair matted to my face by snot and tears and my eyes puffy. I suck in a last sob and yank my fingers through my hair, smooth over my eyebrows and blink the tears from my eyes. Then I look down at what I’m wearing. Sleep shorts, a stained tank, and my hooker slippers.

  I can’t do this to him. We’ve had a misunderstanding and it needs to be resolved, but not like this, I can’t put him in this situation in front of the town. He’ll never get what he deserves if I do that.

  Cautiously, I pull away from the curb and race out of town and toward the Corriga
n ranch.

  While I drive, I think on how behind every great romance is reality. And it sucks. Great big hairy balls.

  Twenty One

  Lemon

  The gates to the ranch driveway are closed and I have to press on a buzzer for Blue to let me in. Which surprisingly, he does. The last time I was here it was for the Day Center Fundraiser. Penny told me it would be fun. It wasn’t.

  And it’s been even longer since I’ve driven myself up the dirt track to the Corrigan ranch. My palms are sweaty on the steering wheel and I wipe them, one at a time, on my sleep shorts.

  Sleep shorts. Ugh.

  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t give a flying fuck how I look in front of Blue Corrigan but the last thing I need from him is pity. Carson raising the issue of the text sparked something in me. A recollection of what happened that night. The familiarity of my attacker that everyone had questioned me about.

  And I need to resolve that issue here and now.

  Before I reach the end of the driveway, Blue throws open the door to the ranch office and stands wide legged with his arms folded in front of his chest. If I could see his eyes under that wide brimmed cowboy hat, I bet they would shoot me with live rounds. I shrink in my seat.

  Pressing the brakes, I wait for the dust to settle before stepping out of the car.

  “What’s up?” He jerks his chin at me.

  “I’m not here to fight,” I say, preemptively.

  He huffs and it’s an expected reaction.

  “I’m in a mess.” I sigh, that sounds like one of my regular lines. “I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere private?”

  He snorts and I close my eyes for a second to quell my rising frustration. “Blue, this isn’t about you and me, or not in the usual way, anyhow. But I need to know why you’ve been questioned in connection with my attack.”

  He pushes his hat to the back of his head and scratches his hairline. “Come on.”

  I follow him to the ranch office.

  He stands with his back to me at the coffee machine, swatting a couple of sugar sachets against the edge of the counter before turning to me and ripping the tops off them. “Coffee?”

  I pull my mouth into a wince. “No. Thank you.”

  He pulls his chin back in confusion and then carries on making his beverage.

  “So, what’s going on?” He says in a flat tone. Not that I mind, I don’t want his sympathy. Not anymore.

  “I’ve been told you may have something to do with the attack on me.”

  He turns, his arms folded. “I didn’t have anything to do with it, and I’m sorry it happened to you, Lemon.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “But why do the cops think otherwise?”

  “Because you sent me that text.”

  “Oh.” I play with the ribbon on my sleep shorts. “I didn’t mean to cause any issues. I only wanted to wish you and Josie well.”

  “Hmm.”

  It’s his prerogative not to believe me and, to be fair, with our history he’s entitled to be suspicious. Whatever sentiment I tried to convey in that text, it’s not unreasonable to think he would read it a different way.

  “Anyway, that can’t be enough for them to haul you in for questioning?”

  “No, but I received it just before I took a break from the wedding party.”

  He stirs his coffee with his finger and wipes it on his shirt. At one time I would have wanted him to let me suck on that finger but now he could take his clothes off and stand before me butt naked and I wouldn’t be interested. I’m well and truly over Blue Corrigan.

  “I put Mom to bed and then went for a walk up the hill. I needed to take a moment, after everything that’s gone on here this last year, I was… overwhelmed.” He slumps in a chair.

  “Oh.” My eyebrows lift. Blue is not usually one for sentimental talk. He’s a man of few words and they are usually devoid of emotion. It makes me skeptical, so I take a moment to analyze my suspicions. This isn’t about me being jealous or hoping to win him back. I genuinely don’t believe him.

  “Blue, you need to be straight with me, because there’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

  His mouth hangs open, he’s on the cusp of saying something and I lean forward, my teeth gritted. Then he shakes his head.

  I lose my patience. “Did you attack me?”

  “No,” he fires out. “I’d never do that to you.”

  “Did you send someone?”

  He rises sharply from his seat. “Absolutely not. It wasn’t anything to do with me.”

  “But something about this is to do with you. I can sense it, Blue Corrigan.”

  He sighs and sits back down, his head rests in his hands. Tension constricts my throat. He’s definitely got something to do with this and I’m not leaving until he tells me what it is. I fold my arms stiffly across my chest.

  “I can’t tell you anymore, Lemon. Because it will complicate things for you, and now that you’re with Carson, him too.”

  “If you don’t tell me Blue, I could easily dump you in it.”

  “How so?”

  “That gun you gave me. It’s not licensed. Carson has pestered me for a while now to get it licensed, but it’s yours and it was in my purse on the night of the attack. I keep it on me everywhere I go and I could have easily shot that attacker. In fact, the other day I got it out of my purse and I had this weird—”

  “Stop.” Blue lurches forward onto his knees. “Stop, Lemon.”

  His reaction is so over the top that I don’t know what to make of it. “Blue?” My voice trembles.

  For a terse few moments while he brings his body back in control, I stare at him. Panic wells up, and my breathing accelerates to a rate that makes me dizzy. “Blue. You’re frightening me. What’s wrong?”

  His gaze remains focused on the floor and quietly he says, “You did shoot him.” He places his hands on my knees and they quiver under his touch. Not because it’s him, but because of what he’s just revealed. I shot someone.

  “How…do…you know?”

  “He was picked up… on the road by someone. They brought him here.”

  My heart thunders in my chest and a wave of nausea hits me hard. I throw my hand to my mouth. “No.” I gasp. “Who was it? Where is he now? What did you do with him, Blue?”

  Blue’s head hangs for a second before he slowly brings a watery gaze up to meet mine.

  Oh my god, this is bad. Real bad. I’ve never seen Blue act like this before. Even when he found out his dad died. Back then he went silent. Stiff. Let me cradle his head in my arms. When we lost the baby, we hugged for hours until his shirt was soaked with my tears. Neither time did he cry.

  “We buried him.”

  I push him out of the way and lurch for the trash can. Throwing everything I haven’t eaten in the last twenty-four hours into it.

  Blue stands and unscrews a bottle of water, handing it to me with trembling hands.

  “Lemon. No-one can know about this.”

  I snap my wide eyes to him with pure shock. “But Blue, I shot someone…” I can’t believe I’ve just said those words. “I can’t…” I swallow deeply. My mouth is dry, and I chug the water.

  “You can’t tell anyone, Lemon. There’s too much at stake.”

  A million questions spin around my head. “Why did you bury him?” I don’t wait for an answer. “He wasn’t even dead. He ran away from me. I’ve seen the footage.”

  “He was gone by the time he got here. He bled out on the back seat of the car.”

  “What car?”

  He presses his lips together. His eyes are now dry.

  “Who else was involved?”

  “I can’t tell you anymore, Lemon.” His voice is choked.

  I shake my head in disbelief. I knew there was a reason I blacked out all memories of the attack. But to think I shot someone is at the extreme end of anything I thought might have happened that night. “Jesus, Blue.” All strength evaporates from my legs and I sink onto
the chair. “What now?”

  He shakes his head. “Nothing happens now. You go home to Carson and forget about this. Carry on with your life and—”

  “I can’t.”

  “You have to,” he forces out between gritted teeth. “For all our sakes, Lemon, you have to.”

  My head rocks from side to side as I continue to take in the magnitude of what I now know.

  I’m a murderer.

  A car braking in the yard has Blue pace to the window. “Look Lemon, I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” I stand on shaky legs, still in shock. “But… Blue, I can’t let this ride.”

  “You have to. What choice do we have?”

  We both watch Austin stride across to the office, his suit jacket flapping in the wind.

  “He’s come about Amber’s trust fund,” Blue mumbles, grabbing hold of the face of his watch. “Shit.”

  “I…” My mind is mush. I don’t know what to do and Blue isn’t giving me anymore time to talk it through.

  “Lemon. Please don’t do anything rash. Come find me if you need to.” His eyes plead with me. “I’ll answer you, anytime.” A small huff blows from my lips. Is this what it takes to get Blue Corrigan to finally answer my calls?

  “Oh,” Austin says, as he opens the door. His surprise to see me is unnerving but understandable. I’m probably the last person he expected to see here.

  “I’m just leaving.” I grit out a tense smile; my jaw aches as I slide past him.

  “Lemon,” Blue calls after me.

  I turn to him and shake my head. If I thought things were bad before I came here, they are now a whole bunch worse. Now what am I to do?

  Twenty Two

  Lemon

  When I eventually get back to the cabin, after a long blurry detour around Tulare County, Carson sits on the rocker on the back porch, his hands clasping the chair arms and staring hard out to the lake. He’s still in his uniform, which is unusual. Two empty beer bottles sit on the deck next to his chair and a third is wedged between his thighs.

  What a God almighty mess.

  If I thought my life was a shit show before, it had nothing on this. And all I could think about on the drive is Carson. I can’t hide this from him. It would be plain wrong.

 

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