Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

I stared at my face in the stark light of Dahlia's bathroom. A scarred shell of a man who didn't belong in her tidy green oasis. Hell, it even smelled fresh and welcoming.

And I wanted to break everything in the room.

She was the first woman I'd been with since my accident.

Nearly two years of doctors and skin grafts and punishing workouts to bring my body back from the brink, and now I was more a mess than ever. I'd accepted that this was the new normal for me, but that flew out the window the moment she'd touched me.

I wasn't sure what had come over me. It had been a near compulsion to hold her and break her at the same time. To make her come so hard and so many times she couldn't escape.

Wouldn't want to escape me.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

So very many things.

I had to get out of there. She was probably freaking out right now. I'd literally held her down the entire time. I'd never done that in my life. Sex had always been a mutually beneficial bit of fun. More importantly, it was sweaty and quieting for my ever busy mind.

But never like that.

I'd never been so afraid to let someone go.

I didn't want her to see me. The real me or the network of scars that riddled my body.

I stared down at my still hard cock and ripped off the condom, wrapping it in toilet paper before flushing it.

The scar bit into the skin above my cock and finally ended halfway down my thigh. I was a mangled mess.

Who the hell would want to touch any of this?

I gripped the edge of her sink.

I willed my cock to give up the need to go back into that room. To go for another round and pound out every frustration and confusing twisted longing into her sweet, perfect body. She fit me like she was fucking made for me.

I jerked my jeans closed.

No one was made for this monstrosity of a body.

Least of all someone like Dahlia. Her huge dark eyes that saw way too much. The fire that lived inside of her called out to something inside of me. Hidden in my fucked-up psyche where no one should ever travel. No matter how perfect she fit me. Or that heart-shaped ass that made me want to hold on and never let go. I could still smell her on me.

Her honeyed, flawless skin and the warm peaches scent of her hair.

It would have to be enough. Once was all I'd allow. This was a mistake on every level.

Even if the mere idea of not doing that again was a physical pain.

I splashed water on my face as cold as I could stand. Washed away the clinging scent of her in my beard. Of the salty and sweet uniqueness that I'd happily wear daily if I was any other man.

But I wasn't. And never would be again.

I dried off before I stepped back into the hallway.

I was ready to run away and hop in my Airstream and head to the mountains. Part of me wanted to leave the house and this lake town in my rearview.

I clenched my hands at my sides.

Running again.

It would be easier to be alone. It wasn't as if Macy wanted me around, anyway.

It would be easier for everyone.

"Going somewhere?"

I froze, unable to turn around. "Dahlia?—"

"Oh, now I'm Dahlia?"

I glanced over my shoulder and my whole system locked. Her hair was down and she wore a simple T-shirt that was sheer enough that I could see the brown sugar tone of her nipples. Already, I missed the little constellation of freckles that clung to the side of her left breast. It would have another mark from my teeth right in the center of the cluster.

One of many bruises I'd probably left behind on her.

"This wasn't right." My voice was little more than a whisper.

"What part wasn't right?" She lifted her chin. "The part where you wanted me so bad you nailed me into the mattress, or the part where you growled my name in my ear as you came as hard as I did?"

I fisted my hands at my sides. "It was only because it's been a while."

"Sure. If that what you need to tell yourself." She threw my wallet at me.

I caught it against my chest, bobbling it once and almost dropping it.

She shook her hair back over her shoulders, and fuck, her nipples were twin points under her shirt. Even as anger spiked in the room, the tip of my tongue burned with need to taste them again. Taste even lower.

She folded her arms over her chest, and my gaze snapped to hers. She gave me a bland stare.

I shoved my wallet into my front pocket. "It's what needs to happen." The words came easily out of my mouth even though every instinct told me to throw her over my shoulder and drag her back into her bedroom and sink inside of her again.

I swallowed down against how badly I wanted it.

She didn't deserve my brand of fucked-up.

"If you want this job, that's what we have to do," I added.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

She stalked down the hallway to the living room, brushing by me with a solid shoulder block that knocked me into the wall. I followed, much more slowly. But she was already at the door, holding it open. "I'll have the proposal written up and ready for you by Thursday."

I sighed. "Take your time."

"Thursday."

I paused at the door. "You're the best person for this job. That's the important part. Not this ."

"You got that freaking right."

She followed me out into the hall.

I swung around. "Get back inside, Hellcat. You're just wearing a shirt." The sconces behind her on the wall threw her into silhouette. "I can see the outline of every inch of you, for fuck's sake."

"Take a good look, Nolan Devereaux. Last time you're going to see it. Your idea, remember?" She whirled and the shirt floated up to show that heart-shaped ass that made me crave all sorts of things I shouldn't.

Then she slammed the door loud enough for the whole hallway to reverberate with the sound.

I raked my fingers into my hair and gripped it tight enough for the pain to center me. When I turned back to the elevator, a woman was scurrying into her own apartment.

I stalked to the door for the stairs. There was no way I could handle the cramped space of the elevator right now. I thundered down the stairs and out the door to the quiet of the empty lobby. The group watching television had dispersed and thankfully, the doorman was gone at this late hour.

Or not.

Murphy? Murray?

Whatever his name was, he popped from behind a wall and held the door open for me. "You're well past the hour, sir."

"Fuck you."

"Manners like that show just how unworthy you are for Miss Dahlia."

As if I didn't know that already. I kept walking, kicking up the pace until I was loping across the four-lane boulevard to my truck.

LITTLE DICK stared right at me as I unlocked the Silverado.

I slammed the door and pulled out into traffic, heading right for the Cove. I should have gone to the Airstream.

Should have done a lot of things differently today.

But right now, I needed to walk. The craggy coastline by my house wasn't hospitable for the dark. I'd make sure to change that in the future, but right now, I needed the solace of the water and the long, walking paths I'd found my first day in town.

The trip into town was a short one. Kensington Square and Crescent Cove were only a few miles apart, even if they were way apart in vibe. Where Kensington Square was more like its own enclave of like-minded business owners who wanted to carve out their own space away from nearby Syracuse, Crescent Cove was the definition of Small Town USA.

Crescent Lake certainly drew people and businesses in, but almost everything was family-focused. From the growing maze of developments with their cookie-cutter houses to the quaint Main Street full of small businesses, eateries, and lazy walking trails for tourists—everything about it was welcoming.

But it also shut down before sundown, save for a few places.

I found a spot near Brewed Awakening. The café was dark at this time of night, and it seemed as if The Haunt was doing a brisk business. But I didn't want to face my sister tonight. I was still too raw from Dahlia.

Instead, I headed down the sidewalk and cut behind the diner to the path through the park along the lake. It was well-lit with modernized lamps that looked much like old street lamps but with obvious LED lights instead, which left the path easy to navigate.

A few people had the same idea as I had now that the heat of the day dissipated. A trio of women in varying stages of pregnancy were walking together. Another couple walked a dog.

The night sounds off the water smoothed out my frayed edges. The trill of tree frogs along with summertime beetles that reminded me of the one summer I'd spent in the Adirondacks. The first time I'd ventured out of Chicago had been to the east coast.

Anything to get away from the memories of my sister's shattered eyes.

And yet here I was in New York again. This time, the pain had followed me—both mine and the echo of it in Macy's gaze when she'd seen me in her café.

I'd do what I needed to do to mend that pain. That was the part I needed to remember, not the endless thirst that had taken hold after Dahlia practically dared me into her bed.

It was a fluke.

I'd been pent up for too damn long, that was all.

It was more important to get my house put together and my relationship with my sister figured out. If she'd allow it.

There were no guarantees in this life, and I had the scars to prove it.

I followed the path deeper into the trees. Lightning bugs flashed along the waterline and the breeze ruffled the tall grass that grew from the silted shoreline on this side of the lake. My own beach was rockier and more inhospitable. I'd do my best to work on that part—or find someone who could.

But for now, I let the tranquil sounds soak into my skin. I needed that after Dahlia, as well.

When I was around her, I felt anything but calm. Ramped up was more our speed. I'd just have to make sure I stayed out of her way because after seeing her drawings, I knew she was the correct choice for the house.

Regardless of the fact that she made me nuts, I recognized an artist. Hers might be in the rehab and design arena, but I could see it. I'd intended on researching her client list, but it wasn't necessary.

She was the right fit. I might've wanted to fight it, but the truth of it was obvious even for my stubborn ass.

I dropped down on the thick grass and looped my arms around my knees as I listened to the lapping water. It had been a damn long time since I'd had the quiet seep into me. The lightning bugs synced up and floated around the shore.

May was turning into one helluva month.

"Hello, Nolan."

My chest tightened at the voice behind me.

"Hey, Mace."

She dropped down beside me on the grass. "I was clocking out and saw your truck." Her mouth tipped up. "Made friends in town already?"

I sighed. "I suppose you're talking about LITTLE DICK?"

"Sorry to hear it."

I snorted. "Definitely not walking into that trap with my little sister."

"Am I though?"

The slice was a direct one, but she was right. "We were close once."

"Maybe when we were ten and twelve." She mirrored my stance and wrapped her arms around her ridiculously long legs.

"Still have those stork legs from back then too."

She punched my arm. "And you're still ugly." She glanced at me and the horror of what she said slackened her jaw. "I didn't mean it. No."

I looked back out at the water. "It's okay. My face is mostly still the same, so that part didn't change."

"You know you were always the attractive older brother my friends were hot for. Shut your mouth."

"Really?" I huffed out a laugh. "Had no idea."

"Yeah, because you were too busy getting gone."

I gripped my fingers tighter. "I know it. I couldn't watch her throw her life away each day, Mace. Making excuses for him until Dad finally didn't come home from one of those flop houses."

"You think I wanted to?"

"I don't know. You always made excuses for her." The memories had marinated in my brain for so long, I wasn't even sure anymore. All I'd been able to do was look forward and away from the hellscape our life had become. A junkie dad and a weak-willed mother were the only memories I had. No joy, no laughter, no Christmas mornings.

"She was weak, but she didn't deserve you to abandon her too."

I bowed my head. "She abandoned me first."

Macy dragged in a sharp breath. "I guess that's a fact too."

"I don't really want to hash out our shitty childhood. The past is the past, and there's not much I can do about that anymore."

"I suppose that's another fact." She stared out on the water. "You didn't have to disappear on me though."

"I thought you had something with Lou. He told me you guys were making a life, and I practically gave him my goddamn blessing." Louis Glover had been my friend since we were kids. He'd always been a bit of an idiot, but I'd never believed he would actually hurt my sister.

He wasn't exactly good enough for her, but he also wasn't an absolute piece of shit.

Or so I'd believed.

"I thought we were. And then we weren't." She rested her chin on her knees. "You know the part that really sucked?"

"I wasn't there?"

"No. That was just a bonus punch. It was losing Malcolm. Realizing that little boy hadn't really been mine, no matter how much I'd wished it at the time."

"Ah, Mace." I wanted to reach over and touch her, but she was balled up tight inside herself. Just like when we were kids and I'd find her in her personal shell. "That little boy deserved far better than Lou and that skank."

She laughed and I heard her hollow tears trapped in the ancient time-capsule sitting between us.

"You seem like you're in a good place now."

She sniffed. "I am. Somehow I ended up with a bonus kid one more time." She settled her cheek against her arms and glanced at me. "You'd like Ash."

"I thought her name was Dani?"

"How would you know?"

I shrugged. "I checked up on you guys."

"And yet you couldn't drop a line or a fucking letter so I could do the same?"

"Google works for both of us."

She huffed out a breath. "Yeah, well, I only found pictures of you with actresses and influencers. I stopped looking at that bullshit."

Not my art. Just the partying part.

My fingers ached from the stranglehold of my grip. She knew I didn't deserve the life I'd lived, either. The obscene amount of money I'd started charging for my sculptures.

I swallowed down that bitter pill. "So, why the name Ash?"

Macy sighed. "I found someone else who loves horror flicks as much as we used to."

The rusty laugh had me relaxing my grip. " Army of Darkness. "

"Damn right."

"At least she has taste. And she sounds like she's your kid."

"She is. I have to share her with her with Gideon's ex sometimes, but she's mine. It took me a long time to believe that. Even if I want to drop her off at Jessica's house more often these days. Fucking teenager."

"Jessica?"

"Yeah. Gideon's ex-wife, Jessica Kyle."

I twisted to look at her. "The actress?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, the actress. Luckily, my kid hasn't taken on her less endearing traits."

"Interesting life you got there, sis."

"It is." She stood up and dusted off her butt. "Too bad you missed out on so much of it."

"For what it's worth, I know that." I drew in a deep breath. If I wanted to mend the chasm between us, I had to do the work. "Now I know it. I was too self-involved to realize it before."

She nodded. "You really here to stay?"

I nodded and peered up at her. "You can find me on Harriette Lane. Can't miss the house."

"You bought the haunted house?"

"So, I've heard."

"At least that's one cool thing you did." She shoved her hands into her hoodie pockets, then she strode up the main walking path. "Maybe I'll come by and check it out," she called down to me.

My chest eased for the first time all damn day. "I'd like that."

She nodded and took off. Those long-ass legs of hers ate up the path. I watched until she was gone, then I turned back to the fireflies show.

This day had been nothing but surprises.