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Authors: K. A. Tucker

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #New Adult, #Suspense, #Contemporary Women, #General

Burying Water (28 page)

BOOK: Burying Water
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THIRTY

Water

now

I nearly stumble over my own two feet when I round the corner to find Ginny sitting in the truck.

She holds up a horseshoe. “Lulu needs her own sign.”

“Okay . . .” I climb in and crank the engine, unable to keep my gaze from wandering over to her wide-brimmed hat and the oversized purse tucked under her arm.

“What?” she snaps.

“Nothing, it’s just . . . you’re actually going
into
town?”

“Well, not if you’re just going to sit there all day, holding the steering wheel.”

I put the truck into gear, avoiding a confused-looking Felix who simply stands in the middle of the driveway, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself without Ginny there. “How long do you think it will take to get that engraved? I can drive you back right after. I’m sure Dakota won’t mind.”

“I have some errands to run, anyway. They’ll take me a few hours. Maybe you can drive me back over lunch.”

“Errands?”

“Yes, errands.” She sets her jaw and I know I’m not going to get any more out of her. So I tune the radio and settle into the drive.

And think about Jesse. Since that night last week, we’ve been alternating between apartments for the last few nights. Thank God he left my apartment early this morning. I’d hate to think what would happen if Ginny caught him strolling down my steps. Though she seems to have warmed up to him a bit since she saw what he helped me with in the barn. She didn’t even comment on the fact that he needed to be in her barn in order to do it.

As we approach the main street, I notice her hands curl tighter around the straps of her purse, until her knuckles are white. “I can go with you to do your errands, if you want, Ginny.”

“I’m not a child.”

Okay . . .
“Don’t forget, Hildy’s coming out with Zoe tonight, after school.”

She shakes her head, mumbling, “The girl thinks I’m senile.”

“Who’s that?” Meredith nods toward the small woman standing next to Ginny, their backs to us as they watch Zoe and Lulu trot past.

“That’s Hildy. She and Ginny were childhood friends.”

By the time Zoe and Hildy drove up in Hildy’s black sedan an hour ago, Ginny had changed out of two different outfits, swept the porch, given Felix a good brushing, and was sitting stiff on her swing, her arms folded in her lap.

I couldn’t tell if she was nervous or excited. I suspect a bit of both, though she wouldn’t admit it to me.

Seems there was nothing to be worried about, though. One minute out of her car, Hildy was hugging Ginny and Ginny was letting her.

“I hear Ginny went into town today. I never thought I’d see the day.”

I chuckle. “Yes. She had ‘errands.’ ” I air-quote the phrase. I honestly don’t know what she spent her time doing. Aside from the engraved horseshoe, I drove her back empty-handed. I think maybe she just wanted to rejoin the land of the living, if only to wander among them for a few hours.

“You wouldn’t believe how much of a fight that stubborn mule put up over the gallbladder surgery. I didn’t even know something was wrong until I saw her hunched over outside the barn. Apparently she’d been having digestive issues for years. And even after the gallbladder attack, she still refused surgery. Honestly, I think it was me telling her about you, and my suggestion to have you move here, that motivated her to go in at all.”

“That’s . . . crazy.”

She sighs. “That’s Ginny.”

“Well, Zoe asked if her friend could board her horse here. If Ginny agrees—which I’m pretty sure she will—then she’ll have an excuse to go back into town for a new horseshoe.”

“Huh.” I turn to find Meredith with her arms folded over her chest, smiling at me.

“What?”

I get a tiny head shake in response. “Come on. We’re going to grab dinner at the rodeo. Jesse can meet us there.” She ropes an arm around my shoulders. “You two have been spending a lot of time together.”

If, by a lot of time, she means every moment that we’re not at work, then she’d be right. I honestly didn’t think that anyone had noticed, but I guess I was wrong. I duck my head as I feel my cheeks begin to burn.

“And you haven’t had any issues?” She hesitates. “I’m asking as your doctor, not as a nosy mother.”

“No issues.” Nothing but hours feeling like I’ve fallen and somehow landed in my own private heaven.

“Good. I’m glad.” Her words are encouraging, but the worried frown over her brow has me second-guessing her.

The crowd explodes with hollers and cheers as the bull charges through the gates, bucking through the air like he’s on fire and desperate to put himself out, the rider somehow staying on his back.

“This happens every June?” I ask as I take in the bleachers, hundreds of locals and tourists filling them.

“Yup. One of the busiest weekends of the year for Sisters.” The way Gabe says that, he doesn’t sound at all enthused. We’re sitting near the front in special seats. One of the perks of being part of the sheriff’s family.

I guess I’m classified as “family” now.

Meredith sits on the other side of Gabe, in deep conversation with Mrs. Green, the town councilor. The topic of conversation appears serious by the stern frown in Meredith’s forehead. If I had to guess, it’s about building a bypass around the town. That or maintaining the curbside appeal of Sisters. Meredith holds a lot of pride in this town. When we first drove through it, I never noticed the dented trash cans and cracked curbs, but now that I’m a “local,” I’ve seen what she has complained about.

Amber stands down in the front row, talking and laughing with another girl. Both of them look done up like dolls with their fat curls and their wide-brimmed embroidered hats, their smiles dazzling.

“That’s this year’s Rodeo Queen,” Gabe explains. “That was Amber, a few years back. When she was little, she used to sit on my shoulders and stare at the girls. She was determined to win and so she did.”

“Right! Dakota mentioned something about that.”

A buzzer goes off just as the bull finally achieves his goal and bucks the rider off, rearing on him. The rider’s quick, though, landing on his feet and darting out of the way, his hands stretched in front of him. Several guys run into the arena to help corral the bull.

“How’s your first rodeo?” The smell of mint hits me a split second after hearing his voice spikes my heart rate. Jesse slides into the bleacher next to me, his leg pressing up against mine from hip to knee.

“Interesting.” My breath catches as he curls his arm around my shoulders, pulling my temple into his lips for a soft kiss.

I guess Jesse has decided that we’re going public.

He leans forward. “Hey.”

“Jesse.” Sheriff Gabe’s eyes graze over his son’s arm but he says nothing else, turning his focus back to the bull pen.

The crowd roars as the voice announces the second bull over the speaker and it charges out, this one bigger and bucking even more fervently. I should be watching the show and yet I can’t. I’ve lost interest. The entire event—whatever it is, ten seconds? Thirty seconds? A minute?—continues in the background as I absorb Jesse’s body heat against me.

Amber’s not watching the rodeo anymore either. She’s now staring at us intently, her wide eyes skittering between us and her parents, then back to us, finally to settle on her brother, a mixture of shock and worry and hurt on her face.

I probably should have said something to her. I just didn’t know how to explain it.

Other than I’m falling hard for her brother.

THIRTY-ONE

Jesse

then

“Jesse?”

My heart jumps at the sound of her voice.

I haven’t seen or talked to Alex in weeks.

“Hey . . . hold on a second.” A quick glance around the garage confirms that no one’s paying any attention to me. But Miller will bust my balls if he catches me on the phone. “Hey, Boone—I’m taking my break now, in case anyone’s looking for me.”

He sees the phone in my hand and nods. “Got it.” We’re at least on regular speaking terms lately.

A light drizzle falls. Not enough to soak me but enough to be annoying. “Hey. Is everything okay?” An image of her curled up in a dark corner in her house, bruised and battered, hits me and I grit my teeth.

“Yeah.” There’s a pause. I hear the hesitation. “Can you meet me?”

“When?” I check my watch. It’s three. “I have another couple of hours at work, but I can cut out if you need me to.” Miller can dock my pay. He can fire me. Right now, I don’t give a shit.

“Tonight, then.”

The white Christmas lights coiled around a fake palm tree ahead are impossible to miss. I pull off the road and into the parking lot of the restaurant, thirty miles outside of Portland. I know why she chose it.

Her husband’s unlikely to find us out here together.

I ignore the hostess standing at the door because I saw the Z8 parked around back, so I know Alex is here, somewhere. It takes a lap around the surprisingly large restaurant to spot her white-blond hair at a small table in a corner, concealed from the entrance by a giant Christmas tree.

“Sorry I’m late,” I offer.

She looks up at me, startled, and I instantly remember how much I like Alex’s eyes. I can see by the dark circles that she hasn’t been sleeping well. Her face wasn’t as drawn before, either. She’s lost weight. “Jesse.” It’s almost a whisper, it’s so soft. “Hey.”

I want to kiss her. That wedding ring is staring back at me, though, and in my worn jeans and boots, there’s no doubt to anyone around that I’m not the one who gave it to her. I slide into the booth across from her and stretch my legs out to hug the outsides of hers. It’s cramped, so I have an excuse.

She doesn’t pull away.

“Have you been here a while?”

She swallows, and her gaze drops to the empty sweetener packets covering the closed menu lying on the table. “Since I called you.”

It’s after seven. That means she’s been sitting here for four
hours.
Something’s wrong. That much is obvious. “Where’s Viktor?

“Out for
business
.”

“So not much has changed.”

She shrugs. “He hasn’t hurt me again.”

“Yet.”

“I haven’t given him a reason to.”

What the fuck does that mean? I’m running a few scenarios in my head, and they all involve her doing things that make me want to scream. “And the tattoo? What does he think about the tattoo?” My voice is full of bitterness. I’m sure he’s seen it by now.

“He liked it, actually.” She pauses. “I told him that I went out with a few girlfriends from school and we all got one done.” Her voice drops an octave. “I said it was a surprise. For him.”

Well, now I’m just pissed. “It wasn’t for him, Alex. It was for you.”
For us.

Before she can speak, the waitress strolls by. “You thinking of ordering food, darling?”

Taking a deep, calming breath, I answer “Yeah” for both of us, knowing that Alex probably hasn’t eaten. I may be angry, but I’m also starving. I had just enough time to race home to shower and change. I don’t bother opening the menu. “Can you bring me a burger? No toppings. And what do you have with blueberries?”

The waitress sighs, looking at the ceiling. “Pie, cheesecake, mousse, ice cream—”

I cut her off. “Good. Bring one of each. And a beer for me. Do you want one?”

Alex shakes her head. I watch the waitress walk away and then return my focus to Alex, ready to push her. I need her to remember how happy she was with me.

Because I was so damn happy with her, and now I’m miserable.

“How’s school?”

She shrugs. “I just finished the semester. But . . . I’m not going back in January.”

“Alex—”

“How’s Boone? And Licks? Are you going home for Christmas?”

I heave an exasperated sigh.

She reaches across the table to curl her fingers around mine, her eyes pleading with me. “Can we not talk about me for tonight? Please?”

I want to argue. I want to demand that she tell me everything and promise me that she’s okay, even though I know she’s can’t possibly be okay with him.

But I merely nod.

Denial it is.

The overhead lights are shutting off, a polite signal to get the hell out.

“You ready to leave?”

She shakes her head but stands, sliding her pink coat on over a short black dress.
Damn
, how I’ve missed seeing her long legs.

I climb out of the booth and offer her my hand. “We don’t have to go right away.”

She takes it and we exit, hearing the distinct lock of the deadbolt as soon as we step outside.

“Come on, this way.” It feels so natural, Alex’s hand in mine as we stroll through the cold, dark parking lot, snowflakes drifting down from the dark sky.

An invisible but palpable barrier between us.

I did what she had asked. All through dinner, we talked about everything but Alex. I bit my tongue against the urge to ask her if he’s yelled at her, slapped her, touched her, been inside her. All the questions that have kept me tossing and turning at night for weeks, I kept in.

I don’t think I can handle the answers.

And every time I opened my mouth to urge her to leave him, I promptly shut it.

When we reach my car, I pull open the passenger-side door and guide her in. Ducking into the driver’s side, I start the engine and rev it, hoping to quickly crank up the heat. I leave the lights off, though. I’m not ready to leave, either.

“How are you liking the car?” She reaches forward and runs her fingertips along the dashboard.

And I wish those fingertips were running over me again. Prickles run down my neck with just the thought.

“Still love it,” I admit, turning the radio down before reaching into the backseat for the red-and-blue plaid blanket that I now keep there. When I start stretching it over her legs, her eyes light up. “I hate that I do, but . . . I do. It’s what I’ve always wanted.” Viktor found me a car with a solid engine and an interior in mint condition. “Found” being the operative word. Everything looks legit paper-wise. I’ll bet money that my father ran the VIN when I went home that first weekend, but I haven’t heard a word about it since. I can’t be certain that someone’s not missing a 1969 Barracuda. That’s the thing with these old cars—they’re not stamped with their VIN codes, so unless there’s some identifying marker on them, they’re as good as gone when a guy like Viktor gets his hands on them. Plus, with his legitimate car sales business, I’m sure he has the connections to get ownership documents created.

“It’s okay.” She reaches out and grasps my forearm. “You’re happy with this car. That makes me happy.” She pauses. “Fuck Viktor.”

I’ve never heard her swear before. It makes me smile. “Fuck Viktor,” I echo, rolling my head to take her face in. I find beautiful russet-colored eyes with a thousand questions swirling in them staring back at me.

She pulls the blanket to her nose. “Smells like your apartment. Like the woodstove.”

Like the night we curled up together in front of the woodstove, in the blanket
, I want to remind her. But I don’t think she has forgotten. I sure as hell haven’t.

The last lights on the restaurant shut down, leaving only one dim security light shining down on the side entrance. A moment later, the waitress who served us appears, pulling the door shut behind her and darting to her car.

And we’re now completely alone.

I can’t hold back anymore. “Are you ever going to leave him?”

“Yes, I
am
going to.” Her gaze drops to her hands. “It’s just not that simple anymore.”

“Yeah, it is. Pack your stuff up and file for divorce on grounds of his cheating on you.”

“You mean like I cheated on him?” she whispers.

“This is different and you know it, Alex. He doesn’t give a fuck about any of them. But you and me—” I cut myself off.

Silence fills the car.

“Why’d you want to meet up with me tonight?”

Alex’s mouth opens to say something but she stops, as though she can’t get the words out. “I miss you so much, Jesse.”

My gut tells me she was going to say something else, but it doesn’t matter. What she did say makes all the long nights lying in bed alone, bitter that she gave up on us so easily, disappear from my thoughts. It makes my heart start pumping and all my resolve vanish. I reach over and grab her around her waist with both hands, using my strength to lift her over the console and onto my lap, blanket and all. Not caring about Viktor or the ring on her finger or anything else except having this girl’s mouth on mine again.

She doesn’t resist, climbing onto my lap to straddle my thighs, her dress sliding up around her hips. I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her scent. I’d kill to cover my pillows with it again.

I don’t even notice the cold anymore, too focused on her as she undoes my fly. The hesitant girl from the hotel is long gone, and this one is tugging my pants and boxers down, her chilly hands warming up as they reach inside. I slide my hands under her dress to find the lacy tops of her nylons—the sexy kind that stop high on her thigh instead of going all the way.

My favorite kind right now, because they mean easy access.

And I can’t wait anymore.

Hooking one arm around the back of her waist and shoving aside her panties with a finger, I sink into her.

And let out a pained groan as she lifts her body off me. “We need a condom. Viktor refuses to use them, and who knows what he has been with.”

“Seriously?” The guy not only fucks around on her but risks her life like that? Not that I should be talking right now because I was ready to go bareback with her, but at least I know I’m clean. I fish a condom out of my back pocket and throw it on in record time.

She slides me into her again.

And then I don’t give a shit about Viktor or anything else.

I pull up alongside the BMW as Alex adjusts her clothes, wishing I could just take her home with me. “What now?”

She pauses to take a deep breath. And sadness slithers back into her gaze. “Now . . . Have a Merry Christmas, Jesse.” Leaning in, she lays one last sweet kiss on my lips, before exiting my car.

BOOK: Burying Water
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