Touch Me (14 page)

She put her nose in the air. “Not trusting you might be a good idea,” she said.

He retaliated by tugging on her hair as she trailed the twins to their front door, an action which felt refreshingly juvenile.

Kids safely inside, they were back in the car and heading in the right direction—his home and his bed—but he could tell her mind was still fixed on the teenagers. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“I just feel for them, you know?”

“Yeah.” Not that there had ever been any stable, forever kind of relationships modeled at the compound, but he understood their appeal for a woman like Rose. Her parents hadn’t held it together and she’d lost that at an impressionable time in her life.

“I was just about their age,” she said, confirming what he’d been thinking. “It creates a lot of stress.”

“I know.”

“You do, don’t you?”

The odd note in her voice had him looking over, frustrated by the darkness. “Wait. What do you mean?”

“Stress. It can make a person act…out. Act outside of their usual character.”

He frowned. Was she talking about tonight? Was she insinuating that she was under stress—new move, no real job, recently out of a relationship, of course she was under stress!—and that had caused her to “act out” with him on the couch at the yard?

She now considered it a mistake.

Fuck. Regret, disappointment, and a serving of anger mixed in his belly. Not that he could blame her. He didn’t consider himself a cruel person, of course, but he was reckless and decidedly debauched, even though he hadn’t been driving in months and his sex life was all about French maid fantasies these days.

Blowing out a silent breath, he tried relaxing his body. It had been revved for an upcoming sexual encounter and he needed it to understand that was a no-go now.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it for days,” she said.

His brows came together. That didn’t make sense. “Huh?”

In the light from a street lamp, he saw her throw him a look. “What happened when I was fifteen.”

He tensed all over again. That one kiss had been a game-changer for him, but he didn’t want to rehash the particulars. “You were a kid.” Until that night, he’d considered her just that.

“I was a week away from sixteen. You’d just turned eighteen. We are only a couple of years apart, actually.”

Which didn’t seem anything now. But at the time, before that one pivotal moment, he’d thought of her in terms of teddy bears and ice cream sundaes. “You were a cute little girl,” he said, dogged about that fact.

“Ouch,” she said, wincing. “I realized afterward that my crush probably seemed amusing to you—”

“It wasn’t funny. Nothing about that was funny.”

“It’s good to know you weren’t laughing at me.”

Payne shook his head. After following her to her friend’s, he’d gone back to his room and stared at himself in the mirror. She’d turned him upside-down and inside-out and his hands had still been shaking.

“I just wanted to clear the air about it. Let you know, even at this late date, that I’m sorry I put you in the awkward position of…of dealing with your girlfriend’s little sister.”

Pushing her away when everything inside him wanted to haul her closer. Rejecting her when lust had welled like a tidal wave, urging him to teach her all he knew about wet kisses and carnal desire.

Rose was nearing his home when she laughed a little, the sound stilted. “Pretty wild times at the compound, huh? I don’t think I understood the rumors until for the first and last time I was invited to a game of naked hide-and-seek.”

With Payne’s own father as one of the chief players. He closed his eyes now, recalling more of that night in vivid detail. Post-kiss, his blood moving through his body like cars on a speedway as he stared at Rose, seeing her as a beautiful young woman for the very first time. He’d curled his fingers into his palm, resisting the instinct to grab her close again as he noted her swollen mouth and the flush on her cheeks.

Then that woman had come upon them. He didn’t remember her name—or if he’d even known it at the time. The females who arrived at the compound would call themselves silly-ass names like Breezy or Deja. The men who showed up for the women and the booze and the drugs all had adopted eye-rolling rocker handles like Bolt or Ryvr.

And the idea that any of them, that any of that life would touch innocent, unsullied little Rose had freaked him out. So he’d chased her all the way to her friend’s, and then walked back to the compound with a deeper—uglier—understanding of what he came from and what he could never have.

His head throbbed now, the pain at his temples like twin fists beating at his skull. Sour bile churned in his belly and a sick, cold sweat broke out on his skin. He needed a hot shower and something strong to purge his memory.

They’d reached his house. Rose pulled into his driveway, but before she could turn off the ignition, he was out of the car.

“Payne?” she called out, clearly puzzled. “What—”

“I’ve got to get inside. Bad headache.” It was fucking true. “Thanks for the lift,” he said through the open passenger door. “Thanks for everything.”

Especially the reminder that he was who he was and it wasn’t anyone who could have a woman such as Rose.

Inside the Velvet Lemons compound, Rose parked her car and slid out, grabbing her beach bag as well as a large plastic bowl filled with pasta salad. It was another Rock Royalty Sunday brunch. Since the “winter” weather might as well have been summer, she wore a knee-length cover-up over her swim suit.

As she approached the outdoor kitchen, she could hear splashing in the pool in the distance. She reminded herself not to look for Payne.

That night at the salvage yard, after their aborted interlude he’d unexpectedly cooled off. A headache, he’d said. In the days since, certainly he’d given himself another, spending hours on the computer updating the yard’s database. When she’d made any noise about the wisdom in that, he’d ignored her protest.

He’d virtually ignored her altogether the entire week.

She supposed he wouldn’t be thrilled to see her now.

But Gavin had the day off and Rose wanted to give her brother-in-law, Lily, and baby Marcus a chance to bond as a family without her intrusive presence. And Cami had called and invited her. Rose owed the woman for the introduction to her friend Dustin. She’d exchanged a couple of texts with the man and maybe she’d get around to inviting the nice guy to coffee or lunch soon.

When she wasn’t so pre-occupied with Payne.

She was determined to get over that.

Today was a test of sorts. The day before, she’d given herself a talking-to, reminding herself that maybe a full catharsis wasn’t necessary. On the couch at the salvage yard, Payne had played her body well and she’d gotten the taste of him she’d dreamed of since she was fifteen years old—not that her imagination had come close to knowing what it was like to have his mouth on her nipples and his hand—

Good God.

No going there, she told herself firmly. That way only led to remembered frustration. She was determined to enjoy herself while steering clear of the man, physically and mentally.

It seemed doable when she found Cilla setting up the buffet. The other woman was practically dancing around the table. Her smile beamed as she took Rose’s bowl and exclaimed over the salad.

Smiling too, Rose had to shake her head. “It’s only some pasta and vegetables, Cilla.”

“Today, it’s the food of the gods.”

Cleo Anderson, Reed’s lover, looked over from where she was placing rolls in a basket. “Beck’s made contact.”

Rose knew that the oldest of the Velvet Lemons progeny, Beck Hopkins, was an adventure writer who had gone missing some months ago, during an expedition to the Nile River. “He’s all right?”

“He says so.” Cilla skipped over to place napkins by a stack of plates. “So now I get to pick a wedding date, e-mail him the particulars, and then
do it
!” She practically squealed the last words.

Then she did squeal when arms circled her waist and brought her back against a strong body. “Don’t we already ‘do it’ enough for you, my girl?” Ren nuzzled his fiancée’s hair.

She turned in his arms and threw her own around his neck. “I’m going to be your wife.”

He grinned down at her, his gaze open and affectionate. “My heart’s desire.”

Cleo nudged Rose with her elbow as the engaged couple murmured to each other. “Cute, huh?”

Rose sighed. “It’s pretty great.”

“Very great,” Cleo said. “The way things were here growing up at the compound…I don’t think they believed they could find something so strong and true.”

“The Rock Royalty are falling like flies though,” Rose said, shifting her eyes away from Ren and Cilla because it almost hurt to watch them.

Cleo shrugged. “I think those two have given everyone else hope.”

Including Payne? Rose didn’t think so. Or maybe you had to want the strong and true in order to find it. His desires lay with the superficial and plenty of variety, if the past was any indication.

She almost turned her head to scout him out, but squeezed her eyes shut tight instead.

“Are you all right, Rose?” Cilla sounded concerned.

“I’m fabulous,” she answered, opening her eyes and pinning on her smile. “And so happy to hear your news. So…what can I do to help?”

The other woman whirled away and whirled back with a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa. “Will you deliver these to the people at the pool?”

Rose could hardly refuse. Taking the items in hand, she struck off in that direction. Maybe Payne wasn’t even at the compound. Maybe he didn’t plan on coming that day at all.

Telling herself it was relief she felt at the idea, she let herself into the pool enclosure. Walsh and Honey were there at the patio table, while twin Lucy and another teen splashed in the pool.

The food went on the table top and she took a chair beside Walsh. He looked up from his phone. “Hey.”

Honey was still engrossed in hers. “Hey.” Rose nodded toward the pool. “New Rock Royalty recruit?” The unfamiliar boy had long dark hair, piercings in his ears, and wore cut-off jeans as swimwear instead of the more common board shorts. Leather and braided-string bracelets wound both his wrists.

Walsh’s mouth quirked and he glanced over at Honey, whose attention hadn’t left the screen of her phone. “He looks just disreputable enough to be a Lemons hanger-on.” Leaning closer, Walsh lowered his voice. “He goes by the name Maylo and he’s Lucy’s boyfriend.”

Oh, Rose could see the attraction of a Maylo for Lucy. There was an edgy vibe to the guy, from his pale skin to the devilish slant of his eyebrows. The girl probably imagined the crude black tattoo on his neck had been inked on his skin during a stint in the slammer.

While young Rose had been about a much more golden Payne, there was some of the same dynamic going on. Girls that age liked to flirt with danger.

Walsh’s phone rang and he excused himself, wandering into the nearby pool house. Honey soon followed, leaving Rose to idly watch the teens fool around in the heated water of the big pool. Protected from any wind by the enclosure, she turned over-warm and stripped off her cover-up, which was nothing more than a rectangle of a fringed loose-weave fabric, with holes cut out for her head an arms. Beneath it, her bikini was pale blue and pretty modest considering what passed for bathing suits.

She figured she could actually do laps in the two pieces of spandex without scandal. The bottoms concealed more than the necessary, with the embellishment of a lacy reveal at the hips. The top was bra-style, the shoulder straps the same lacy look and a band of the stuff went around the bottom of the cups. The sunshine felt glorious on her skin, and since she’d slathered on protection at home, she now tossed her cover-up on the chair beside her and positioned it to prop up her feet.

Ahh
, she thought, closing her eyes. Seattle didn’t have winters like this.

A girlish shriek and the thrash of bodies in water had her lashes lifting. The sun glared off the turquoise water of the pool and she blinked against the brightness for a moment until she could make out Lucy and Maylo.

They were still horsing around, but this looked rougher than before.

Frowning, Rose straightened and glanced around, realizing she was alone on the deck. Her attention back on the pool, she saw the boy push the girl’s head below the water, a wide grin on his face. But a knot settled in Rose’s belly as she saw Lucy’s limbs flail beneath the surface.

This was going on too long.

Rose jumped to her feet just as Maylo released his hold and Lucy bobbed up like a cork. “You rat,” she yelled, and planed the palm of her hand against the surface to shoot water into his still-grinning face.

His smile died and he dove below. A second later, Lucy was yanked beneath.

Maylo has the girl’s ankles, Rose thought. Though she told herself it was typical teen stuff, Rose found herself standing. By the time she’d walked to the edge of the pool, both kids were above the surface again.

“You two might want to take it easy,” she cautioned.

Maylo angled his head and gave her an assessing glance, from the top of her head to her sandaled feet. It was an ugly look, the scrutiny both inappropriate and disrespectful. Rose fought against crossing her arms over her breasts. She wouldn’t give this twit the satisfaction.

“We’re just having fun,” he told Rose, treading water. His gaze flicked to the girl. “Aren’t we Luce?”

“Sure,” she said. She swam closer to the side of the pool, swimming just below Rose. “Fun,” she confirmed.

And like a shark, from behind the girl Maylo pounced. Rose gasped as Lucy went under with a disturbing gurgle.

That’s it
, she thought, kicking off her flip flops.
I’m going in.

But before she could make her move, a body beat her to the water. It was Payne, she realized, in a T-shirt and black board shorts. His dive was flawless and he speared the surface then came up with Maylo, his big hand wrapped around the kid’s nape.

A second later, Lucy shot free of the depths, coughing.