Love, Me: A Pleasant Valley Novel Page 10

  “Do you like seafood?” I ask.

  “No. I hate it. Even the smell makes me gag.” She makes the sound, and I swear I don’t imagine my dick down her throat. I don’t.

  “Okay, good. Me either.”

  “Oh, thank God. Bryan always took me to fish frys, and I got stuck sitting there eating coleslaw and smelling like a deep fryer.”

  Just the damn mention of his name tests the patience I’ve built up for this woman. “Hmm.” It’s all I can reply.

  A new song comes on the radio, and she leans forward to turn up the volume. “I love this song. This band, Reason to Ruin, is my favorite. I have always wanted to go to a concert, but getting tickets is near impossible. Bryan called when they went on sale once, and they were sold out in less than five minutes.” Her singing is pretty damn good, and the irritation itching at me has faded as I listen to her sing.

  Luckily, she doesn’t ask where we’re going, because I have no clue. I thought about a famous steak place down in the valley, but with that dress and the kind of trash who hangs around there, I decide against it. I’m not in the mood to deal with assholes tonight, even if they have a cop at the door.

  The main strip of restaurants and stores will surely be the right place to go. I may have left home for a while, but nothing in this town changed. As I drive down the street, I pull into the parking lot of an Italian restaurant. “Are they closed?” I mutter it to myself, but she answers. “Looks like it. There’s a board on the window. I wonder if something happened.”

  “Damn. Okay.” I steer us back onto the road. “Let’s see what else we can find. Do you know of anything I might not?”

  “Huh?”

  “I dunno. I thought you might know other restaurants or something since you’re in the biz.”

  She giggles. “Yeah, we have a secret meeting every month and discuss which restaurant we’ll work on hiding from customers.”

  I reach over and tickle her rib cage. “Smart-ass.”

  “Stop.” She laughs and pushes my hand away. “I’m super ticklish, and I swear to you . . . I’m just really ticklish.”

  “You will what?”

  “Nothing. What about the Chinese place?”

  I store the subject change in the back of my mind. “They close for the month. I tried to order takeout the other day, and it said on the voicemail.”

  “Damn. Okay.”

  I point at a well-known chain restaurant. “What about there?”

  “Gross. No. Bryan and I used to go there, and every time, the service was either really shitty or the food was horrible. Or both. Hey, how about the Hibachi place?”

  My jaw unhinges just enough to answer her. “Sure.” I put my blinker on and turn around at the next stoplight. The restaurant is only a couple of blocks away, so we get there in no time.

  When I walk around the car, snowflakes begin to fall from the sky. It’s starting early this year. I wrap my arm around her shoulder to try to help ward off some of the chill from the air. Her jacket is a flimsy thing; surely, she’s going to be freezing, especially since her legs are bare.

  The restaurant is busy, but we’re able to get seats right away at a large table with a family celebrating a birthday. We sit at the end, and after placing our orders, I turn my back to everyone else so I can focus on the gorgeous woman sitting next to me. Not more than a few minutes go by before the man wheels his cart up to the hot surface.

  He confirms everyone’s order, and Rayne has a glass of sake while we watch him cook. “I could never do that,” she says, nodding at the chef chopping food.

  “I bet you could.”

  “No. My knife skills are not good.” She finishes her drink and turns toward me, so my legs are caging hers in. “My dad is an amazing chef. He can do some crazy stuff with knives, but I didn’t get that skill from him. Other than the basics, I’m terrible. I’ve had to get stitches in my fingers like six times over the years.” Her slender fingers wiggle in front of my face, and I grab her wrist.

  I notice a very faint scar on her thumb and lean down to kiss it before letting her go. “I cut that one Christmas Eve. Bryan had to take me to the ER.”

  Motherfucker. “I’m sure you’re better than I am.”

  “Doubt it. I can cook, yes, but I swear I’m not good with a knife. My mom, she’s very fast but not as good as my dad. But he sucks at baking, and my mother is . . . she’s such a good baker. Although, Bryan was even worse than I am, so I didn’t feel as bad about myself when we were in the kitchen together.”

  My neck involuntarily twitches, and I pretend not to have just heard that. “Why don’t you guys sell some of your mom’s baked goods at The Lunch Box?”

  She starts to answer me when a piece of zucchini hits her in the forehead. My immediate reaction is to kick someone’s ass for throwing food at her, but then I remember where we are. I laugh at her as her face reddens, and I’m nailed on the cheek. She points and laughs, the rest of the table laughs, and the chef laughs, too, amused at his own antics.

  We shelve the rest of the conversation and give him our attention while he finishes cooking and finally plating our meals. I scarf mine down, and Rayne only eats half of hers. I pay the bill and wait in the hallway for her to get out of the bathroom.

  Pushing the door open, I’m met with a little resistance. “Damn, it snowed.”

  “Of course, it did.” She sighs.

  I get the door open all the way and then reach for Rayne. She comes closer, and I scoop her up. I love her giggle, and I want to hear it all the time. Forever. Her arm loops around my neck, and when I reach my truck, I have to balance her on my leg while I grab the key.

  By the time I get into my seat, she’s buckled and ready to go.

  “What did your parents do?” Her question comes out of nowhere and takes me completely off guard.

  I’m ashamed of where I came from, but more importantly, I’m ashamed that I still try to maintain contact with a mother who abandoned me without a second glance. No, I used to. I’m not trying anymore.

  I haven’t had many people in my life that have gotten close enough to me to even ask about my childhood, so I’m not prepared to answer it.

  The truth-ish, I guess? “My stepdad was on disability, and Mom didn’t work.” Before she has the chance to delve deeper into it, I steer the topic to something else. “I’m really sorry this wasn’t what you were expecting. I’m honestly just not used to . . . this, Rainey.”

  “To driving?”

  I take my line of sight off the road for a brief second to see the smirk on her face. “You’re just full of one-liner’s tonight, aren’t ya?”

  “I used to be like this. Funny, happy. But then Bryan disappeared, and along with that so did a part of me. I’m just glad to have it back now. Thank you for giving it back to me.”

  My hands squeak when they grip the steering wheel tighter. That guy’s name is like nails on a chalkboard. She continues talking, and thank the Lord she doesn’t bring him up again, because my self-restraint is being tested something insane right now.

  The drive back to her place takes a little longer because of the slick roads. When we get there, I carry her to her door and place a gentle kiss on her soft lips because I’d be an idiot not to taste her once more . . . even if it’s only short and sweet. When she steps inside, I back up. She looks at me confused. “You don’t want to come in?”

  Hell yes, I want to. I want to rip that damn dress off and see what she’s wearing beneath it. I know she doesn’t have a bra on, because her nipples have been poking at the fabric all night. I wonder if she’s even wearing underwear. If she is, it’s definitely a thong. Probably white. Maybe with a little lace on it, too.

  But what, half a dozen times tonight, she brought him up. If I don’t walk away now, I’m going to either say something I regret or do something to her I regret, like hiking her dress up to her waist and bending her over the couch to fuck my frustration out. It’s what I’ve done before, what’s familiar. Pretty much al
l I know. So me walking away is a revelation.

  “I really should get going before the weather picks up.”

  “The weather?” She crosses her arms and taps her foot.

  “Yup. I really am sorry I fucked up and didn’t plan better.”

  “You’re seriously leaving because of the weather?” Pissed off Rayne is even hotter when she’s horny.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’.”

  I walk out without a backward glance, and by the time I get home, my disappointment in the evening has reached the peak. I rip my jacket off and throw it across the room. My boots closely behind. I just want a fucking do-over. I want a night when I’m not a moron and think to actually plan something nice, and I want a fucking night when she doesn’t bring up her ex.

  My mattress cushions my fall, and I stare at the ceiling. The pieces of the cheap ass popcorn ceiling morph into a bunch of fingers shaking at me, taunting me, scolding me for being such a miserable prick. When I was finally privy to the information about Rayne’s past, I thought my feelings for her could outweigh my abandonment issues. But man, hearing her continually bring him up brought back the same self-hatred from my childhood. The same torment and the same fucking insecurity I had to teach myself to overcome.

  If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t drink so much.

  It’s your fault he hit you. You’re nothing but a pain in the ass.

  You’re the biggest mistake of my life.

  He’s better than you’ll ever be.

  The constant stream of verbal abuse and demoralization I lived with until I was fifteen runs on a loop through my mind while I sleep. Just like last night, and the night before that, and every other night since I can remember.

  Chapter 13

  Rayne

  The entire night, I toss and turn, and when I wake up, my head is killing me. Probably doesn’t help that after Vaughn had ditched me, I finished a bottle of wine sitting in the back of my fridge.

  I text my parents that I’m going to be a little late today (perk of my job) and stop at Kennedy’s work on my way. He’s a music teacher, the JV tennis coach, and a student favorite at one of Pleasant Valley’s high schools. Wherever we go, kids always come up to him and show him nothing but admiration and respect. I really lucked out getting him as a best friend.

  I know it’s his planning period, so when the bell rings, I fight my way through the kids filtering out to enter his classroom. “Hey,” I call to him.

  He looks up from his seat and waves me over. “What are you doing here?” He stands and hugs me then leans a hip on the lip of his scratched-up excuse for a desk. “How was your date?”

  “Awful.” I move a music stand out of my way and sit on a plastic chair.

  “What? Why?”

  I relive the night and try to remember the details of everything that happened. Just as I’ve done for the past twelve hours. I keep trying to think what I did wrong. “Was it the dress? It couldn’t have been. He told me how badly he wanted to show me how fine he thought I was.”

  Kenny laughs. “He said fine? Like, ‘Girl, you so fine’?” He raises his voice and snaps his fingers.

  I roll my eyes. “He was being funny because I’d said something about me being fine, as in, fine with whatever for dinner. And even then, he was a total gentleman, honestly more gentlemanly than I thought he’d be.” Which I both loved and hated at the same time, because as much as I want him to treat me like a lady, I want him to ravish me like a desired woman.

  Kenny lifts himself up, so he’s sitting on his desk and crosses his arms. “Where did you say you went to eat?”

  I don’t want Kenny to think Vaughn was being cheap or anything. “Seriously, like I said, I didn’t care that he didn’t plan anything. I actually like it. That’s the kind of guy he is, and I really like that. It didn’t once have that uncomfortable first date feel, ya know?”

  “Yeah, that’s how it was with Brad. So why did you end up at the Hibachi place?”

  “Well, the Italian place was closed for some reason, and neither of us likes seafood, especially the nasty fish frys we drove by that Bryan would take me to. And I told him we always had bad service at the other place.”

  “Okay. And when you got to the Hibachi place, you said everything was fine. What did you guys talk about?”

  “Umm. Well. Not too much. We talked about my lack of knife skills, and he kissed this scar.” I hold up my index finger on my right hand. “Do you remember when I got it? Christmas Eve.”

  “Yeah. That was a long time ago.”

  “Yup. Bryan had to take me to the ER.”

  He raises a brow. “Did you tell Vaughn that?”

  “What?”

  “That Bryan took you to the ER?”

  “Yes . . .”

  “Oh, Rayne.” Kenny comes over and sits in the chair next to me. “How many times did you bring up Bryan last night?”

  I scrunch my nose as I go through the night. “A couple, I think.” The concert, the fish fry, the scar. “Shit,” I murmur. The restaurant. “Oh, my God!” I jump out of the chair and almost knock the music stand over. “What is wrong with me?”

  “Relax.” He grabs my hands. “It’s going to be fine. You need to figure out how you’re going to stop doing that, and he’s going to have to accept this part of your life.”

  I’m trying to remember his facial expressions, and if he gave me any indication he was upset with me. And I come up with nothing. Again, he was a perfect gentleman, and I was a moron. “I need to talk to him. I have to apologize.”

  Without giving Kenny a chance to respond, I rip out of his hands and rush to my car. I dial Vaughn, and he answers on the second ring.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home, why?” His sleepy voice is so damn sexy.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “No.”

  “What’s wrong? Where are you?” God. Even after I continually brought up my ex on our official first date, his concern is the last thing I expected.

  “I just need to see you. Where do you live?”

  “You know where the art gallery is?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m in the studio above that. Come in on the Sixth Street side.”

  “Okay.” I hang up and whip my car around to make a U-turn, nearly getting t-boned. “Shit, sorry.” I wave at the old lady flipping me off. “Sorry, sorry.”

  Thankfully, it stopped snowing, so the roads are clear, and I get to his place rather quickly. I park and knock on the door then turn the knob. He doesn’t answer, so I push it open and head up the stairwell to where I’m hoping his place is. The same happens there, and when I open that door, I immediately know this is his apartment.

  Pictures hang by thumbtacks on the wall, and the minimal furniture and décor coincide with the fact that a guy resides here. “Vaughn?”

  “Be right there.”

  I stop at the little nook where he has a shit ton of different pencils and pads of paper. I’m amazed at the different moods of his pictures. Some are beautiful flowers, and some are scary dragons. The portraits are unbelievably realistic. A stack of envelopes sits in the corner, and the one on top has a return to sender stamp on it. I lean over and see Vaughn’s name in the upper left corner. The envelope is addressed to Rose Morris.

  “Hey.” Vaughn’s voice comes from behind me.

  “Did you draw these?” I turn to look at him while pointing at the huge array of artwork. My hand falls seeing him in a pair of black basketball shorts and a gray tank top. I’ve never seen him in less than jeans and a t-shirt. And his body is amazing, much like the man under the clothes.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow. These are all so good, Vaughn.”

  “Thanks. So what’s up?”

  I didn’t have much time to contemplate how this conversation would play out. Hesitation kicks in a moment before I just go for it. “I’m so sorry. I totally ruined last night, and I didn’t eve
n realize it until Kenny pointed it out. I can’t believe I was such a moron.”

  “You’re not a moron.”

  “I am.” My lip quivers, and I blink back tears. “I’m sorry.”

  He removes his hands from his pockets and has them wrapped around me in a split second. “Why are you crying?”

  “Because I feel horrible. I can’t believe I kept bringing Bryan up. It was so stupid of me, and I—”

  “You’re not stupid, Rayne. He was a part of your life, and I need to accept that. I do accept that. I’ll admit it took me by surprise yesterday, and instead of saying anything, I thought it was best just to leave so I could have some time to think. And I did after I got home, a lot. I get it. I understand, really, because there’s a woman in my life who still has her fucking claws in me, and as much as I try, I can’t rip them out.” He leads me to his couch, and we sit down next to each other. “We’re still learning about each other, right?”

  “Yes,” I agree, wanting to know if the woman he’s talking about is the one whose name is on those letters.

  He looks past me and licks his lips before refocusing on me. “I haven’t allowed anyone to get close enough to me for it to matter who was involved in their past. I’m not saying this to be a dick, but any woman I’ve been with has been nothing more than a nameless, faceless means to an end.”

  I can’t help the disgust I feel when thinking about him with someone else.

  “With you, I knew I wanted you immediately. It was instant with you. And in the beginning, I tried my usual shit that’s never failed me before. And ya know how I knew you were different? Special? You’re the first woman who’s ever turned me down.” He smirks. “But all it did was make me want you that much more, even if it meant I had to wait.”

  I don’t know how he’s managed to turn my apology into this, but I suppose it’s one of the reasons I’m so attracted to him.

  “But I knew. I absolutely knew something was there. Something here.” He holds our joined hands to his chest. “I don’t know how the fuck to give you the life you should have. Being the kind of man that a woman can be proud of is something I’ve never had the desire to be before. I don’t do fancy dates. I don’t even know where to begin with all the romance shit women like.”