Now it was time to clean house. Desperate to get rid of any reminders, Caelen was now surrounded by piles of before-and-after shoes.
Before I got involved with a prick, and after.
It should have torn out her heart to say goodbye to her pretties, but at this point she just wanted to be done.
She was furious at him, herself, the damn weight of all her stuff. And even though she should be calling the cheating bastard and telling him where to stick his divorce papers, she decided instead to downsize. To get rid of anything and everything “Victor.” Unfortunately, the after pile was growing. A haphazard stack of Jimmy Choos, Loubutins and Prada sat to the right of her, even the ones that Carly had admired just a few hours before. Victor had only bought the best, often scoffing at her thrift store finds.
Earlier she’d told Dacey the reason she hadn’t told – what had she called him? – Captain Long Schlong to take a flying leap was because it would only encourage him. That was partly true. But the better reason, the
real
reason for her silence was because she’d have to admit her complicity, her total acceptance of his half-assed explanations and excuses.
She was frightened to the marrow of her bones that a confrontation with Victor would only reveal she’d been a trusting shoe-whore, who liked the convenience of a rich boyfriend that frequently left town, giving her endless time with her materialistic friends. Was she really so shallow, or was it the ruse Brynn accused her of creating? Did she do this to herself on purpose, date unavailable men to punish herself?
Didn’t matter. It was time to make a change. Her reckless actions weren’t only affecting her now. When she thought about his kids, the regret sitting in her stomach revved into high gear, continuing its corrosive joy ride through her system.
Bzzz. Bzzz.
Enough. There was nothing she could do about her selfish actions from the past, but at least she could fix things from here on out. Striding across her room, she snatched up the cell. The quick grab made her glasses slide forward, threatening to drop off her face. The bottle caps were necessary to figure out which shoes were what.
Hate these damn things
.
The flashing light indicated she had a voicemail. From Dare. Just seeing his name made her whole body ache and her heart hurt. He would never forgive her. Never. Didn’t matter that she’d never lied to him. Didn’t matter that she’d never promised more than four days. None of it mattered because if Dare ever found out what she’d done, he’d be furious and probably disgusted he’d ever gotten involved with her.
This was the first time he’d called after they’d spoken about his ex-wife. Maybe the intimacy of the moment had been too much. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but those few whispered words had brought her closer to him than any orgasm could. And for some reason, she wanted more.
A knock at the door interrupted her musings. It was almost 8:00 pm. Maybe Ms. Hattie was bringing up some dinner, since she’d missed the evening meal. If not, she’d raid the pantry to find some leftovers.
“Hold on a sec.” Caelen rubbed the heel of her hand against her stomach. The ache never left her.
She tugged at her shrunken Spice Girls tee, making sure it wasn’t riding too high above her pajama short-shorts. All makeup was off for the day, because she needed an early start to get ready for the class tomorrow. She swept a few strands of hair off her face, patting her bun, making sure it was still piled high above her head. If Goldie could only see her now. This was even scarier than the fluffy robe, but it was what she wore to bed most nights.
Swinging open the door, she was greeted with a sight that almost brought her to her knees. Dare stood leaning against the doorframe, cocky grin tilting up the side of his mouth. He wore the usual uniform of faded jeans, scuffed boots, and long-sleeved flannel.
Through her shock, she could only think how handsome he looked.
Then reality reared its ugly head, and Caelen didn’t know what to do first: let her hair down, throw off the glasses, put on some makeup, scream bloody murder, or jump into his arms.
Instead, she promptly burst into tears and slammed the door in his face.
*
D
ARE SPUN AROUND,
ready to confront the intruder that had made Caelen cry. He pivoted on his heel, clenching his fists, ready to spring. Nothing. Just him and empty air, no burglar, boogeyman, or otherwise scary entity behind him. He even jogged down the hall and peeked around the corner for good measure.
Nothing.
That could only mean she was reacting that way to… him? He bounded back toward her room and pushed open the door. Caelen sat, surrounded by stacks and stacks of shoeboxes. Only her pile of dark hair floated above the mountain of stuff.
He navigated through the structured mess and found her hunched over, her glasses – a close rival to the ones worn by Mr. Magoo – were perched precariously on her nose as she frantically wiped her cheeks. Her cheeks were mottled, looking as red as her eyes. She still looked good enough to eat—if it weren’t for the tears. “You’re wearing glasses.”
“I am not,” she wailed as the tears rained down her cheeks.
He stepped forward tentatively, having no
holy idea
how to handle this moment. “Why are you crying?”
“Because.”
Dropping to his knees, he crowded in close and tugged her into his arms. She snuggled onto his lap as he leant against the bed, and he felt his whole body expand, pulling her in, surrounding her in his warmth. The familiar feeling of contentment and just “rightness” had always been there, since they were kids, and it felt so damn good. “Because of me?”
“No.”
He rubbed his cheek against her hair, loving the unique smell. Dare sat with his legs spread, Caelen leaning into him sideways, her long silky legs tangling with his own. “What was I thinking? ’Course it couldn’t be me. Don’t know why I even asked. I’m the guy with the pretty dick, remember?” He took a deep breath, her tears absolutely killing him, but he kept it light. “Still not talking? That’s okay; I’ll figure it out. Did you stub your toe?”
She shook her head.
“Accidentally kill a spider?” He felt her shoulders shake and felt rather than heard a quiet snort of laughter. “No? Hmmm. I know what it was! Your sisters. I’ll go tickle-torture them right now for you.” He leaned back to get a look at her reaction, and she immediately burrowed in, not letting him get away.
She rested her head against his chest and took in long deep breaths. Her tears were breaking him down, reminding him of the complications between them, and reaffirming the fact that a really aggressive asshole still thought he had a place in her life.
Maybe it was time to remedy that situation. He placed his palm against her neck, his thumb slowly brushing back and forth against her satiny nape. “All you have to do, baby, is say his name. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Her head snapped up. “What? No! No, no,
no
… You have to promise me you’ll never hurt him.
Promise.”
She poked him in the chest.
He gritted his teeth and tightened his hold, slightly, as she tried to pull away. The words were all too familiar. “Why?”
“Why?
Why?
How can you even ask me that? You know why.”
“Because you still love him?” This was it. Her response, like an uppercut to the jaw, could knock him out cold.
She slapped her hands against his chest and pushed, hard. “No, you idiot. Because it’s illegal to beat the shit out of someone, and he’d totally press charges. You’d go to jail, probably lose your job… I can’t be responsible for that. I won’t be.”
“You think I don’t know how to take care of things discreetly?”
She stopped and looked at him, her whole body going still. “Like you did with Bobby?”
He pulled back, the statement catching him off guard. Was this because of what Frank had said at the bar when he brought up that stupid nickname? The two of them faced off, no longer in each other’s arms, just sitting in front of each other on the floor, bracing for the difficult conversation ahead. After all these years, he’d never thought Caelen would find out. “You heard about that?”
“Yeah, just recently. Like, today, in fact.”
Chapter 25
‡
C
AELEN WATCHED
D
ARE
take in a deep breath, which caused his broad shoulders to expand. God, she loved his rock hard muscles, loved how his shoulders bunched around his neck, tapering down to strong arms and hands with long, knowing fingers.
But right now, she forced herself to focus on his response. Too many decisions rested on what he might say next. “What happened?”
“No comment.”
“This is important. Tell me.” Her voice caught, the weight of what he’d done for her and how it’d changed her life had gone unspoken for too long. Back then, she’d waited by the phone, desperate for Bobby to ask her to stay, to say he loved her. Even after he’d hurt her physically. And if he’d called, she would have gone back to him.
The call never came, but not because of Bobby, because of Dare.
“Caelen, I…” He pressed the heel of his hand between his brows. “I was a dumb kid. I wanted—I thought I was helping.” Now he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Who told you?”
“Ms. Belle.”
Caelen felt faint. Of all the names he could have said, she’d never thought Ms. Belle knew. At the time, she’d been so worried about her finding out, and she’d known.
Damn.
“Did she know what you were going to do?”
“I never mentioned it.” He shrugged but continued to look at anything but her.
“Why would she do that? Why would she tell you something like that?” Her voice broke. Why would Ms. Belle reveal one of the most shameful experiences of her life? And to Dare, of all people.
“She said I was so damn in love with you that I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Her words.”
Caelen snapped her head up. The intensity of his gaze threatened to swallow her whole. “Y-you were in love with me?”
“The night she told me about Bobby,” Caelen watched his hands fist at the mention of Bobby’s name, “she sat me down, and we had one of the most important talks of my life. It was about me and you.” He let out a deep sigh. “She told me you were special, but that you always gave yourself away. Gave away too many pieces of who you really were.”
Caelen remained quiet, caught off guard by Ms. Belle’s all too accurate assessment of her.
“She also said that you needed to go to college. That our small town would start to cage you in, and you’d never be happy here. Not while you were young. That you needed the city, the experience, the fun of spreading your wings.”
“Why would she tell you all that? Because of Bobby?”
“Because of
me
. A lot of things were going on with me, with my family and boxing… And once I found out about Bobby, it sort of made everything explode. I finally realized how I felt about you. I guess I’d taken for granted that you’d always be around for me to tease.” His mouth finally kicked up into a quick grin, but it was gone before it started.
Caelen felt numb, too shocked to respond. Dacey was right. Dare had been in love with her. The reality both warmed her and scared her to the darkest pit of her soul.
His words also shamed her. Look what she’d become after Ms. Belle had believed in her. Look what she’d done with her life! She graduated from college, but had fallen back into the same old pattern with Victor. Always dating men who took and never gave.
He cleared his throat. “I think the speech she gave me was to make sure I didn’t stop you from going away. No matter how I felt.”
“And then you beat up Bobby? And Ms. Belle just let you? My God, she was practically setting you up to do it. She knew your temper…”
“She made me promise not to lay a hand on him.”
“You lied to Ms. Belle?”
What?
Never in a million years would she believe …
“Not really. I knocked him down and kicked the shit out of him. Technically, my hands never got near him.”
“But…”
“I know. I felt like shit for lying to her, but, Goddamn, I’d do it again, in a heartbeat. That prick deserved it, putting his hands on you. I had to beat the fear into him, so he’d never bother you again.” He blew out a deep breath and looked down. “I think that’s why she never asked me about it. The whole town knew someone had beaten him up. She had to know it was me. I was ready to tell her the truth if she asked, but she never did.”
How to respond? Dare had changed her life; what would she be without a college degree? Probably still broke, homeless, and without a job, but at least she was all three with a diploma.
Dare still wouldn’t look up, suddenly obsessed with a streak of dirt on his jeans. His hands were resting on his knees, one leg bouncing in agitation. He looked so sexy, the combination of strength and uncertainty wasn’t a look Dare wore often, but he made it work. “Anyway, it was the best thing that could have happened.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized I couldn’t fight, anymore.” He looked down at his hands and said, “I hated the way it made me feel.”
“How did you feel?” Oh God, she probably shouldn’t ask, but he looked so tense. And she was dying for information, anything Dare would share. She needed him to tell her.
“Like him. Like my dad.” The words were said softly but with such power. He looked up and must have seen something he didn’t like on her face, because he started to frown. “Anyway, I happened to run into a buddy who was a firefighter and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“So, you hate boxing now?”
“Not at all,” he stretched, his hands linking behind his neck, as if to shake off the emotional overload. “I spar all the time. I just do it on my terms, not because someone told me I had to. No big deal.”
His words overwhelmed her. Now, she
felt
for him, knew the hurt went so deep. The connection between them snapped as taught as a bowstring. Why couldn’t she have kept her stupid questions to herself? Unknowingly, he’d made her care even more.