Showing up at the fair to “meet” me.Bam.
I was waiting for theBOOM.
What the fuck did he want with me?
What was even more puzzling—the thought of him made me uneasyandexcited.
Being close to him? Excited me more than anything. It was also what pissed me off the most. My feelings around him screwed with my mind. There was something about him that immediately made me want to take a step back and then a step forward. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I felt like the family inBeetlejuicewhen they all started dancing because the husband and wife ghosts controlled their functions.
Giving myself some credit, though, I felt like I handled him pretty well at the fair.
On the other hand.
I wished I could extend a fist through time and punch myself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing he had rattled me.
Darlin’.The way he’d said the word, with that sexy voice of his, made me shiver.
I was not an experienced woman when it came to men like him, but I did have a heightened sense when it came to the world in general, and something told me that he was the kind of man who easily read the signs from a woman. And he used them for his nefarious schemes. In his case, he had the perfect weapons: face, voice, body. His fuckingcharmlocked it in tight.
Charm—such a pretty word for something that could turn life ugly if used as a weapon. Especially when he used it to get whatever he wanted. And when charm didn’t work? There was no doubt he’d get it another way.
I hoped after I showed those men at the fair how good I was at hitting each target set out for me, Cash Kelly would realize that I wasn’t to be fucked with. I’d shoot an arrow in his ass so fast that he’d think an invisible foot had kicked him in it.
I grinned to myself, imagining it.
There was one truth that I couldn’t ignore, though, no matter how hard I tried. It always led me back to why the bastard excited me. It was nice and simple, clean cut, but with a sharp and dangerous point.
I was attracted to him on a level that felt unholy. Which by itself was okay—attraction was not actually cheating—but it almost felt like I was when I thought about Cash Kelly, even when Scott wasn’t around.
Scott—the man who loves you—Stone.
After I met Scott’s family in January, he asked me to think about marrying him. I told him I needed time, but he was starting to get impatient. Making a man wait a few months for an answer to such an important question didn’t do anything good for his ego, it seemed.
If he was true about his intentions, though, why rush it? It wasn’tlike he really asked, either. He didn’t get down on one knee or give me a ring. He told me tothinkabout it.
That was exactly what I’d been avoiding. Thinking about one huge word—yes.
I always found something to redirect my thoughts when they went there. Maybe if he did ask soon, I’d just blurt the first response that came to my mind. I had a teacher once who told me that if I didn’t know an answer on a test, I should always go with the one thatfeltright and leave it at that.
“It’s probably coming from your gut,” she’d said.
It was tiring thinking about the marauder (Kelly) and the detective (Stone) at the same time. I didn’t even want to compare them, and for some reason, it felt as if I knew Kelly as much as I did Stone. Maybe even better, which was bullshit, because I’d only met him twice. Still, thinking about them in the same space of time felt like a mind trap.
Enough thinking about men then.
I glanced into the backseat at Mari. She had been quiet, probably dreading the moment we pulled up to my apartment. I knew she had no money. She had told me before we left for the fair that she had been fired. She was kicked out of her apartment and beaten up by the prick Merv, her landlord. Her beautiful face was full of bruises and splits from his fists.
My own fists balled when I thought about him doing that to her over not paying rent.
She and I needed to come up with a plan for her life, and fast. She’d refuse any help outright offered, so I’d have to work around her aversion to accepting kindness without feeling like she had earned it first. I had to think of doing nice things for Mari in terms of a job. She did something for me. I paid her for it. Then she wouldn’t consider it accepting something for free.
It was a fucked-up way to live, but she was a kid from the streets. To accept kindness from strangers could get her killed or make her wish that she were dead if she ended up owing the wrong person. So even though I hated that she was that way with my family and me, I never faulted her for it. I understood.
As we pulled up to my apartment, her eyes fell to her old leather bag. I could feel the weight of her situation fall on my back, and I wished there was more I could do. It never felt like enough. It never would. Not until I knew she was taken care of.
“I’m coming in for a sec,” Harrison said, shutting the car off. “Give me a minute.”
I gave him a narrow look, wondering what he was up to, but I was dying to get comfortable, so I got out. I waited for Mari and we walked together to my apartment. We were both quiet, but I could feel her relief the moment we stepped inside and she realized that my roommate, Sierra, was not home.
