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Page 11

“It definitely counts,” Brock says. “Could I see, honey?”

  Reluctantly, or so it seems to me, Lauren raises her face from my chest and shows her injured face to Brock.

  He utters a low curse. “That son of a bitch never learns, does he?”

  Lauren’s eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head.

  “Do you need medical attention?” he asks.

  “No. I’m okay.”

  “I’ll be with her,” I assure Brock.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll need you to come down to the station and file a formal report. Or I can come to you. Whatever works best.”

  “Could you come to her place in the morning?” I ask him, trying to make this as easy on her as possible.

  “Of course.” After a pause, he says, “You have to press charges this time, Lo. We can’t let this happen again.”

  “I know,” she replies in a soft, broken tone that makes the ache in my chest sharpen. I have so many emotions rushing through me right now that I can barely process them all. I want to protect her and hold her and love her and avenge her—all at the same time.

  “I need to take some photos of the bruises, Lauren,” Brock says. “Would that be okay?”

  She glances at me, and when I nod in encouragement, she says, “Okay” in a small, defeated tone that breaks my heart.

  Brock takes the photos quickly and with a minimum of fuss, which I appreciate.

  “Will you see her home, Garrett?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “One other question, Lauren. Do you have video surveillance in the store?”

  She nods and points to the closed door off the storeroom. “It’s in the office.”

  “Do I have your permission to review it?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re going to be here awhile processing the scene. If you give me a key, I’ll lock up when we’re done.”

  “There’s an extra set on my desk. They’re the only keys on the desk.”

  “Great, thanks. You guys don’t have to stick around if you want to go.”

  “Will you grab her purse from the office?” I ask Brock.

  “You got it.”

  Because I want to get her out of here more than I want my next breath, I scoop her right up off the floor and settle her into my arms. She presses her face to my chest, as if the thought of anyone seeing her like this is more than she can bear.

  I take the purse from Brock and make eye contact with him.

  He nods to acknowledge the rage that I’m certain he can see all over my face and then holds the doors for me as I carry her to the parking lot.

  Honey is waddling down the sidewalk between their storefronts as I load Lauren into my car. “Garrett! Oh my God! Blake called me. What happened?”

  “Wayne Peterson paid her a visit.”

  Before my eyes, Honey goes pale and takes a stumbling step backward.

  I grab her arm to keep her from losing her balance. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, sorry.” She blinks back tears. “I just… I’m shocked.”

  “So is she. I’m taking her home.”

  “I’ll wait for Blake, and we’ll come over. We’ll bring something to eat.”

  Because I know Lauren’s other best friend needs to do something for her, I didn’t object, even if I’d prefer to be alone with her. “Okay.”

  “Let me just…” She gestures to the passenger door of my car, and I step aside to give her access to Lauren.

  Honey opens the door and bends—as much as she can, which isn’t much—to speak to Lauren. I see Lo nod at whatever Honey says to her. Then Honey steps back, and again I take hold of her arm to help her find her bearings. If she doesn’t give birth to this kid soon, I worry she’s going to topple over at some point.

  I’m about to offer to give her a ride back to the studio, but Blake’s company pickup comes to a skidding stop at the curb, and he jumps out, running over to us. “Is she okay?” he asks of Lauren.

  “She will be. He was rough with her and scared the hell out of her.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Blake mutters.

  “Brock is going to arrest him and charge him with assault.”

  “Thank fucking God. It’s about time.” He puts his arm around his wife and draws her into his embrace. “Come on, darlin’. Let’s get you off your feet.” As Blake leads Honey to the truck, I go around to the driver’s side of my car and get in. “How you doing, sweetheart?”

  “Okay.”

  “Blake and Honey are going to come over to check on you. I hope that’s okay.”

  She nods. “It’s fine. I’m sorry to make such a fuss.”

  “Don’t you apologize for anything.” My tone is harsher than I intended, and I immediately regret it. Placing my hand on top of her still-freezing hand, I soften my words. “None of this is your fault.”

  “I… When he came into the store, I-I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I thought I was hallucinating.”

  While keeping my hand over hers, I grip the steering wheel with my other hand so hard, it hurts. “I’m sorry you were so frightened, love.”

  “About one minute before he walked in the door, I got a call from the funeral home to let me know that Mr. Peterson had died, and they needed to order the funeral spray. That was all the warning I got that he might be back in town, and then he was in my shop.”

  I take comfort from the fact that she’s talking about it and the stammer seems to be fading. Last time, it took two weeks for her to be able to talk about what happened, and the stammer had lasted a month. I have no doubt she’s stronger now than she was then, but it still kills me that he hurt her again. I’d like to tear him apart with my own two hands, but I won’t do that. I won’t sacrifice myself to gain a moment’s satisfaction. I’m always brought back to reality by the reminder of how many people rely on me. I don’t have the luxury of being able to give in to my thirst for revenge. Rather, I’ll focus on her and getting her through this.

  An idea pops into my mind—the trip to Austin, the luxury suite, the spa, the pool, not to mention the wining and dining. The getaway could be just what she needs if we can make it happen. I’ll mention it to her tomorrow when she’s had time to process what happened today.

  We pull into her driveway, and I run around to help her out of the car. “You want me to give you a lift?”

  She gives me a small smile. “That’s okay. I can walk.”

  I follow her up the stairs and wait for her to unlock the door before following her into the cool darkness of her home. Was it only this morning that we were here eating doughnuts and kissing the sugar off each other’s lips? That seems like a lifetime ago now.

  “Where do you want to be? Down here or upstairs in bed?”

  “Here is fine.” She curls up on the sofa, resting her head on a pillow with butterflies embroidered on it.

  I cover her with the yellow throw that’s slung over the back of the sofa and sit next to her, caressing her hair and taking notice of the darkening bruises on her cheeks. “How about some ice for your face?”

  “That might feel good.”

  I kiss her forehead. “Coming right up.” In the kitchen, I fill a plastic sandwich bag with ice and make sure it’s completely sealed. I find a soft dishtowel in a drawer and bring that with me. I place the towel over the lower part of her face and then position the bag so it is split down the middle with ice applied to both sides. “How’s that? Can you breathe?”

  “Uh-huh. Feels good.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

  I brush the hair back from her face and let my fingertips venture over the upper curve of her left cheek. She is so very precious to me. How anyone could ever hurt or scare her is beyond me. Tears burn my eyes, and I close them to keep from breaking down. I haven’t cried since my father died, and I can’t start now or I might never stop.

  Tuning in to my dismay, she curls her hand around my neck and gives a gentle tug, bringing my head down to rest against her shoulder. As she runs her fingers
through my hair, I wonder how she ended up taking care of me rather than the other way around.

  We stay that way until we hear Blake and Honey coming in the front door.

  I raise my head to meet Lauren’s gaze and kiss her forehead.

  “Dinner’s here,” Honey calls out cheerfully.

  By the smell of things, they’ve brought barbecue that makes my mouth water. I can’t believe I’m actually hungry. “Do you feel like you could eat a little something, sweetheart?”

  She removes the ice and towel from her face, which is red from the cold. “If they brought what I think they did, I could probably choke something down.”

  I say a silent thanks to Honey, who knew just what would appeal to Lauren. I help her up and hold her hand to walk her into the kitchen, where Blake and Honey have laid out dinner.

  We hear the front door open again, and Lauren glances at me anxiously.

  “Just me,” Scarlett calls out. She comes into the kitchen and goes right to hug Lauren. “Where is he, and how can I stick an ice pick through his skull?”

  Lauren laughs because how could she not? Scarlett is too much at the best of times, and absolutely perfect at the worst of times.

  “Don’t do that,” Lauren tells her friend. “Don’t any of you give in to the urge to get violent with him. Violence doesn’t fix anything.”

  Leave it to Lauren to zero right in on what we’re all thinking. I’m so proud of the way she’s handling this latest encounter with Wayne. It’s light years from how she was after the first time he hurt her, even if that incident was much more severe than this one. She’s so much stronger now than she was then. Later, when we’re alone, I’ll tell her so.

  We enjoy a lively dinner with our friends, who make an effort to act as if nothing is wrong. We’re finishing up when Matt and Julie come in with their baby, Grace. Lauren reaches for the baby. Julie deposits her into Lauren’s arms and then plants a kiss on Lauren’s forehead.

  Watching Lauren hug and kiss the squirmy baby has me rubbing that spot on my chest again. I should probably get that checked at some point. It’s been pretty intense the last couple of days. It occurs to me that she’s going to be a wonderful mother someday. Any child born to her will be one lucky kid. And where will I be when that happens? In Austin or some other far-flung glamorous location, growing my career and living the life I always dreamed of?

  Surrounded by Lauren and my closest friends, watching our tribe band together in the midst of crisis, the thought of moving to Austin doesn’t sound quite as good to me as it did only a few days ago. I’m so confused about everything, but I can’t cancel the meeting that’s been planned with such excitement by the company, and it would be good to get away with Lauren for a few days.

  “So listen, guys,” I say before I take another second to contemplate whether it’s a good idea or not. It feels like a good idea, and that’s enough for me. “I have to go to Austin tomorrow to meet with a potential new client. They’re putting me up at the Four Seasons for the weekend, and I thought Lauren might come with me to take full advantage of the spa and pool while I’m working.”

  “Who’s the client?” Blake asks, sounding suspicious.

  “A restaurant group that’s looking to expand. They saw the article about me in Texas CEO and hit me up.” Part of that is true—the interest from the company I’m interviewing with came from the same article, which ran about a month ago and talked about the way I’ve grown my father’s small-town business into a seven-figure operation in just six years. To Julie, I say, “Is there any way you could cover for Lauren at the shop so she can be away?” She’s worked part time for Lauren over the years, filling in during the busy times.

  “Absolutely. Grace and I would be happy to do that.”

  I glance at Lauren, who seems stunned by the turn of events. “What do you think, Lo? Are you up for a little getaway?”

  “I… I don’t feel right leaving Julie in charge on such short notice.”

  “Oh please,” Julie says. “Give me something to do besides change diapers and breastfeed.”

  “She’s stir-crazy,” Matt adds gravely. “She’d love to get out of the house. You’d be doing us both a favor to let her work a few days for you.”

  Julie sends her husband a saucy smile that makes us laugh.

  “Plus, Megan is there to help in the afternoons,” Julie says. “I can handle it. Take a break, Lo. It’ll do you good.”

  “I have to do Mrs. Smyth’s grocery shopping on Sunday and count the money at church,” Lauren says. “We have the special collection for the food bank.”

  “I’ll take care of both those things,” Honey says. “You’re going to Austin.”

  To my horror, Lauren breaks down into sobs once again. I reach for her. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Do you not want to go? We don’t have to if you don’t feel like it.”

  She shakes her head, and after taking a moment to get herself together, she says, “Y’all are the best friends any girl could ever have.”

  “We love you,” Honey says bluntly. “There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for you. I’ll help out at the shop, too. Go with Garrett. Have a good time. It’ll do you good to get away for a few days.”

  “Can you do tomorrow and Saturday?” I ask Julie. The shop is closed on Sundays, so we only need coverage for two days.

  “Yep. Consider it done.”

  “What about the five a.m. flower deliveries?” I ask Julie.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Scarlett says. “I’m at the coffee shop by then anyway.”

  “Looks like you’ve got yourself a mini-vacation,” I say to Lauren, whose bright smile lights up her teary eyes but then fades just as quickly.

  “What?” I ask her.

  “The bruises,” she says softly, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t go anywhere looking like this.”

  Her shame enrages me and tests my resolve to let Brock handle Wayne. I want to pummel him.

  “I’ve got makeup that’ll cover them,” Scarlett says. “It’s left over from my theater days. Don’t worry. I’ll fix you up and show you how to do it yourself. No one will know they’re there.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  “So we’re going to Austin?” I ask her.

  Nodding, she says, “I would love to go to Austin. Thank you for inviting me. I can’t remember the last time I went anywhere.”

  When she agrees to come with me, the ache in my chest is replaced by a lighter feeling of flying higher than I ever have before. I don’t really understand what it means, but I sure do like how it feels to know I have three days to spend with Lauren away from work and all my other responsibilities in Marfa.

  I can’t wait.

  Chapter Ten

  After everyone leaves, I finish cleaning up the kitchen and go looking for Lauren, bringing a fresh bag of ice with me. I find her upstairs in her room. She’s changed into pajama pants and a tank top. Her hair is soft around her face, and her eyes have lost the haunted look they had earlier. I’m so relieved to see her recovering from the scare with Wayne relatively quickly.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  “Surprisingly okay, thanks to you and the others. I’d be losing my mind if I had to deal with this alone.”

  “You’ll never be alone.” But what about when you’re in Austin, six and a half hours from her when something upsets or hurts her? What’ll you do then? I push that disturbing thought from my mind so I can focus on the present and what she needs right now. “How about some more ice?”

  “Sure.”

  “Get comfy.”

  She gets into bed and sits back against a big pile of pillows.

  Rounding the bed, I bring the ice pack and towel to her and help to position it. “Good?”

  Gazing at me, she nods. She takes hold of my hand. “How did you know to come to the shop earlier?”

  “I heard some guys talking at the gym about Wayne being back in town. I didn’t think. I just ran.”

  “I’m s
o glad you did. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

  “I’m glad I was able to be there for you.” After a pause, I ask her, “Do you want to be alone, or would you rather I stayed?”

  She looks up at me with those big eyes that slay me. “Please don’t go. I don’t want to be alone.”

  I grasp her hand and give it a squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you for that and for everything tonight.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. I was hoping you’d want me to stay.”

  “I’m so excited about the trip to Austin. You hadn’t mentioned that you were going.”

  “It came up earlier this week. I’m glad you can come. The client told me to bring a guest and make sure we take full advantage of the spa and the pool.”

  She sighs with pleasure, and the sound is so reminiscent of the hours we spent in my bed that my cock stirs for the first time all night. But tonight is not about that kind of pleasure. It’s about comfort and safety and anything else she needs to get past what happened earlier.

  “Do you mind if I grab a quick shower? I never took one after the gym.”

  “Of course not. Make yourself at home. Towels are in the closet.”

  “I’ll be quick.” In the bathroom, I’m not surprised to find bright yellow towels in the closet. I step into the shower I normally would’ve taken at the gym and turn my face up to the hot water, letting it rush over me while trying to summon the calm that Lauren needs from me. Tonight is all about her. After my shower, I put on only boxers and return to her bedroom to find that she has dozed off.

  I carefully remove the ice pack and towel from her face and then stash them on the bedside table before turning off the light. I get into the other side of the bed and try to relax so I can sleep. But my mind is full of thoughts about the things I’d like to do to Wayne Peterson, the interview in Austin and whether I should be concerned about the nagging ache in my chest.

  At some point, I fall asleep and wake when Lauren curls up to me. I wrap my arm around her and hold her close to me, determined to protect her from ever being hurt again. But does that determination include turning down a huge career opportunity to stay close to her? That’s one question I don’t have the answer to.

 

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