Counting on Cayne (Hallow River Book 1) (5 page)

“I think so. I mean,
yes. I am staying for a while.” I heard myself stammering. Cayne shot me
another sideways grin.

“Good,” he said simply.
He tapped my knee. “Listen, I kept meaning to tell you. I checked out the car
this afternoon. I won’t bore you with the details, but the end result is that I
need a new part in order to fix it properly. Top-flight sports cars don’t show
up too often around here. I’ve put out inquiries to other shops and dealers to
see if anyone has the part that I need. It’s safe to drive in the meantime.
Just don’t go too far.” He winked.

“Thank you. That’s no
problem at all. I have nowhere else to go.” This sounded both pathetic and
dismissive. I regretted saying it. We drove in silence for a couple of minutes.

Cayne stopped at an
intersection. There were no other cars around. He turned in his seat and faced
me. “Brinley, why did you come back? Why now? What’s going on?”

“This is my home.” I
swallowed hard. “Why shouldn’t I come back home?” I felt guilty about being so
evasive, but it had become a reflex. And I was not ready to tell Cayne the
truth. I was not ready to tell anyone the truth.

His eyes sought mine in
the darkness. I rested against the seatback, and he brushed my forearm and hand
with his fingertips. “Ok. If that’s how you want it.”

“Cayne, it’s just…there
are things that I can’t…”

“It’s fine, Brinley. You
don’t have to tell me anything.” He shifted the car into gear. We continued
through the empty intersection.

I opened my mouth to
speak several times but remained quiet. I wanted so badly to offer some kind of
a justification, however feeble and half-complete, but the right combination of
words failed me. A strange mixture of pride and shame kept me tongue-tied. I
was ashamed that I had allowed myself to be broken in the first place and too
proud to let anyone glimpse the shattered pieces. If that led Cayne to imagine
that I was hiding secrets, he was right. But maybe his imaginings were
preferable to my admitting the awful truth.

He pulled up to the curb
and cut the engine. I noticed a light in Aunt Lu’s bedroom and saw a twitch of
curtains. Then the light went out.

“Thank you for the
ride,” I said weakly. I picked at my jeans, nervously scratching my nails into the
denim.

“No problem. It’s the
least I could do after holding your car hostage. Besides, it gave Cami a chance
to spend some time with Jasper. My sister couldn’t make her feelings any more
obvious if she wrote them across her forehead. He’s not a bad guy, despite what
you may have witnessed tonight. Cami’s had a crush on him since she was
thirteen, and he has yet to take advantage of it. Of course, he knows I would
beat the shit out of him if he ever hurt her.”

He stared thoughtfully
through the windshield for a few seconds.

“Cami has always lived
very close to the surface,” he continued. “She’s never hiding anything. I
admire that.” He placed a hand on my leg to cover my fidgeting fingers. “Not
like us, I guess, huh?”

I was confused by his
reference to “us.” When he mentioned hiding, I assumed that he was speaking
only of me. But I knew what he meant about Cami. I admired and envied people
who were capable of living entirely on the surface, their thoughts and emotions
an open book for the world to read. It showed a fearlessness that I had never
been able to master.

Cayne kept his hand on
top of mine. I turned my palm up. Our fingers intertwined. “Are
you
hiding something, Cayne?” My pulse rate increased. I felt tingles of heat
around my neck and cheeks.

“Maybe,” he said. His eyes
glittered in the faint moonlight. My rapid breathing sounded loud in my ears.
He leaned toward me and reached across my body, his muscular bicep grazing the
loose folds of my top. I braced against the seatback, fighting a surge of
desire that radiated through my body from the warmth of his fingertips on my
thigh to the sturdy heft of his chest pressing against my arm.

Then I heard a click. The
passenger door swung open. Cayne straightened up, snatched his hand away, and
turned the key in the ignition.

“Passenger door sticks,”
he said with a smirk. “I just wanted to help you out.”

The insistent ding-ding
from the dashboard only heightened my embarrassment. I bent low and fumbled for
my purse on the floor. Cayne chuckled. I was about to call him a bastard and
stumble into the night when he gently tugged at my elbow.

“Come here,” he said
softly.

He lifted a section of hair
that had flopped over my face and delicately tucked it behind my ear. Then he
rested his palm against my burning cheek, brushed my lips lightly with this
thumb, and kissed me. His lips were warm and full. I tilted my head back as he
leaned in closer. His fingertips snaked down my neck and chest and under the
border of my top. He pressed his mouth firmly and hotly against mine. His
fingers danced along the rounded curves of my cleavage and then probed beneath
the black lace edging of my bra until his hand was wrapped around my bare
breast, squeezing tenderly and fondling my nipple with an expert touch.

I wanted him to go
further. I wanted to be naked in his strong embrace and feel his moist lips and
probing tongue massage and stroke every part of my body. Our lips locked in a
final long, sultry kiss and let go. He squeezed my breast once more and removed
his hand. My heart was pounding, my breath was shallow, and my mind was hazy.

“There,” he said as he
adjusted the bra strap that had slipped over my shoulder. “I’ve wanted to do
that since I was sixteen. Good night, Brinley.”

“Good night, Cayne.” My
voice trembled and cracked. I climbed out and picked my way along the uneven
path to the front door. I glanced back as I turned my key in the lock and saw Cayne’s
truck already rounding the corner.

I undressed and prepared
for bed in a pleasurable daze, replaying the kiss over and over in my head and
still tingling with the sensation of Cayne’s fingertips on my bare flesh.

Just before I drifted
off to sleep, a different vision flashed unbidden into my consciousness. It was
an image of Granton, his eyes flashing with menace and a cold maniacal grin
stretching across his face. I knew that he was coming for me. And with the
sudden chill of a terrible foreboding, I knew one more thing. He was getting
closer.

Look outside
.

The phone buzzed once on
my nightstand. I read the incoming text before I saw the identity of the sender.
A wave of panic crashed through my brain. Granton had been the last person on
my mind before I fell asleep and the first to disturb my thoughts when I awoke.
But the message was from Cayne.

I hopped from the bed
and split open the white eyelet curtains. The dawn had broken golden and serene.
Birds chirped in the myrtle trees that framed the yard. My car was parked at
the curb. He must have delivered it earlier that morning. I typed out a quick
reply.

 
Thank you. ;)

The phone buzzed again.

Don’t thank me. I
haven’t actually fixed it yet.

I showered and slipped
on a pair of cutoff denim shorts, a light gray t-shirt, and tennis shoes. I
threw my damp hair into a ponytail and bounded down the stairs.

Aunt Lu sat at the
kitchen table, stirring her coffee. She was still in her nightgown, a
high-necked collection of frills and flowers that contrasted oddly with her stern
expression. She looked up when I entered. The clean morning light revealed a spreading
network of lines around her eyes and mouth.

“Where are you headed?”
she asked, taking a sip of coffee. I could hear a children’s television program
coming from the living room, the sound of cartoon singing blending with Georgie’s
cheerful babbling.

“I’m starting work at
the diner today.” I set my phone on the kitchen table and checked the time.
9:26. I needed to be at the diner by 10. I poured cornflakes into a bowl and
the last dregs of the coffeepot into a mug that ironically read “Mother” in
curling purple script.

“Brinley.” Aunt Lu set
her mug on the table and folded her hands together. Her tone was serious and
her eyes, blue as a gas flame, leveled at me. I paused with a mouthful of
cornflakes and sat in one of the old pine chairs. “I need you to tell me why
you came back.”

I took a moment to
finish chewing, biding for time while my brain clicked through possible
responses. I sipped my coffee. Aunt Lu’s gaze remained level and intense. She
would spot a lie ten miles away. I checked the time again. 9:35.

“I should get going. I
have to be at the diner by ten.”

“You didn’t answer my
question.” Her shoulders drooped slightly, and her voice suddenly sounded very
tired. She seemed disappointed.

“I know, Aunt Lu. I’m
sorry. I promise we’ll talk about it later.” I rose and kissed her temple,
where a few strands of blonde-gray hair had escaped from her bun and swayed in
the fan breeze. I shouldered my purse and turned toward the door.

“Wait,” she commanded.
She got up and grabbed an object from the countertop. She dangled a set of keys
toward me. “Cayne dropped these off this morning.”

I felt my cheeks go pink
as I took the keys. She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows.

“Thank you,” I said
impassively. She limped back to her seat. Guilt stabbed my gut. “I love you,
Aunt Lu.”

“I know you do, dear.”

I pushed open the screen
door, trotted down to the curb, and unlocked the car. There was a small note
taped to the steering wheel. The top of the paper read “Talbot Auto Shop.” The
words were hastily scribbled in masculine block print.

Good luck on your
first day.

***

The polyester green
waitress dress was quite possibly the ugliest thing I had ever worn. The fabric
sealed in moisture like plastic wrap. I could feel droplets of sweat coursing
down my torso by noon. The buttons gaped whenever I bent over to deposit or
retrieve a plate, and the short flippy skirt regularly threatened to give the
entire room a glimpse of my petal pink panties. The defective pin on my
oversized name tag stabbed my left breast so many times that I finally tore it
off in a huff and tossed it by the front register.

“You’re doing great,
girl!” I had just finished serving four heaping plates of meatloaf and potatoes
to a group of retirees when Cami appeared at my side. Her fire engine red lipstick
played nicely against the tiny sun freckles that sprinkled her nose. She had
tried stuffing her abundant hair into a ponytail but only half succeeded.
Sprays of errant curls popped out like a halo that grew thicker as the
afternoon progressed.

“Thanks,” I breathed
with relief as I perched on the edge of an empty booth. “Those old dudes
wouldn’t stop staring at my thighs though. I guess I don’t blame them. This
dress is so short that I might as well be serving in my undies. One of them
kept calling me ‘sugar lips.’”

Cami perched beside me. “Yeah,
it comes with the territory. I once had a drunk guy try to stick a rolled up
tip into my panties like I was a damn stripper. I broke his finger. He never
came back.”

I laughed at the image
of Cami being angry enough to commit bodily harm. Like many Southern women, I
suspected she had a steely tough side hidden beneath her sweet charm.

“Sooooo, how was your
ride home with Cayne last night?” She nudged me playfully in the ribs.

I tapped my toe
nervously into the linoleum. I was pretty certain that Cayne did not discuss
the details of his sex life with his sister, and I was not eager to tell the
world about our kiss just yet. I wanted to see how things progressed, if they
progressed. For all I knew, it was just a lark on Cayne’s part. Maybe he was
auditioning me for a role as another of his playthings.

“Oh, it was nice,” I
said with as much nonchalance as I could muster. “You know, it’s good to catch
up and all.”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she grunted
suggestively. “Catching up is fun.” She drew air quotes around the phrase
“catching up.” I laughed aloud and slapped her forearm.

“I don’t know what
you’re talking about.” I wagged my chin like an offended debutante. We both
chuckled. “But how about you and Jasper? Did you two do any ‘catching up’ on
your ride home? Seems like you’ve got kind of a thing for him, if you ask me.”

Cami placed her fingers
against her forehead and threw back her head like a suffering heroine. “Brinley,
don’t even get me started.” She sighed dramatically. “Nothing happened, of
course. He treats me like a little sister. I don’t even know why I’m so
obsessed.” She giggled and shrugged. “It’s a magnetic pull or something. I
can’t resist it.”

I knew exactly how she
felt. Cami hopped from her perch. The crowd had thinned to a trickle in the
pre-dinner hours.

“Well, it’s the end of
my shift,” she declared. “I need to go change and head to class. Eastern
European Politics.” She stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Actually, it’s not so
bad. The professor is hot in a nerdy kind of way.” The image of Cami trying to
master the intricacies of Easter European politics was almost as humorous and
unexpected as the image of her breaking a man’s finger. “Justine, one of the
part-time gals, will be here at six to start the night shift. Do you think you
can hold down the fort till then?”

“Aye aye, captain,” I
replied with a salute.

***

The next two hours
passed lazily enough. I found tasks to fill the time, refilling the ketchup
bottles, arranging the menus, and restocking the napkins. At a quarter to six,
a pixie of a girl with a nose ring and gobs of electric blue eyeshadow walked
in and introduced herself as Justine. We shook hands as she appraised my
outfit.

“Damn, you actually look
good in that hideous thing,” she laughed. “‘Good’ being a relative term when
you’re dressed like a seventies garage sale mannequin.”

I glanced down at my
casing of forest green polyester. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or
disturbed by that. I suppose it does have a certain Halloween costume appeal.”

“Hey, some guys are into
that sort of thing” Justine said with a blue wink.

I returned to shelving
pies under the counter while she jogged to the back to drop off her belongings
and change. My head was bent over a fluffy coconut cream concoction when I
heard the outer door open and saw the shadow of a customer cross the floor to a
booth by the windows. When I looked up, the man’s face was hidden behind a
menu. I still had a few minutes left in my shift, so I pulled my notepad and
pencil from my pocket and stepped over to take his order.

“What can I get for you,
sir?”

“Oh, I’m not really
hungry.” His face was still hidden, but his voice was familiar. “I’m just here
for the scenery.” He lowered the menu. Bright green eyes traveled quickly from
my buttoned-up peter pan collar to my waist cinched in brown plaid ribbon to
the ruffled folds of the skirt that swished high above my exposed legs. His
gaze traveled more slowly down and up the full length of my legs, to the thin fabric
stretched tight over my breasts, and all the way up to my face that flushed
under the heat of his scrutiny. His lips curled into a rakishly crooked smirk.
His dimple flashed.

“Cayne.” My own lips
broke into a smile of genuine pleasure. “What are you doing here?” I felt suddenly
flustered in his presence. My voice was breathless and hurried.

He leaned back into the
booth and rested his wandering stare on the place where my skirt barely covered
the thin pink strip of my panties. If I didn’t know better, I would have
thought he had x-ray vision.

“Like I said, I’m here
for the scenery. You fill that uniform out nicely.”

I laughed and looked
down bashfully at the yellow flower-shaped buttons that were straining to stay
fastened over my chest. “Yeah, I’ve been told that I’m a natural.”

“So, how was your first
day?” He refolded the menu and slapped it decisively onto the table. “I see you
didn’t burn the place down or poison the customers, so that’s a good start.
Seriously though, I’m glad to see you went through with it. It means you’re staying
put for a while.” He winked and beamed a boyish grin.

I’d noticed that two
different versions of Cayne seemed to vie for dominance at any moment. There
was the leering Cayne, staring suggestively at my body, who made my cheeks
blush and my panties wet. Then there was the thoughtful Cayne, a distant echo
of the gangly sixteen-year-old in geeky spectacles, who made my heart melt with
tenderness. I never knew which Cayne was going to appear. I also didn’t know
which version was more real.

 “The first day wasn’t too
bad. I got hit on by some elderly gentlemen, which was definitely a boost to
the old ego,” I said sarcastically.

“Uh oh. Do I need to go
beat anybody up for messing with my girl?”

My heart flipped a
little. Was I his girl? But then I felt instantly silly. I was regressing to
the condition of a lovesick preteen when I had much bigger problems to
confront.

I laughed casually to
cover my burst of excitement. “No, I don’t think you have anything to worry
about.” I winked. Flirting could work both ways.

I looked across the room
and saw Justine setting two plates of food on the counter and chatting
energetically with a couple of burly truckers.

“My first day actually just
came to a close.” I flopped into the other side of the booth and blew a few errant
wisps of hair out of my face.

“That’s perfect,” he
said. “How about coming for a ride with me?” He tilted forward and crossed his
forearms on the table.

“Where are we riding
to?” I rolled my pencil over the table’s bumpy surface. It ricocheted off of
his arm. He picked it up and poked it point-down into the table, his muscles
visibly shifting under the skin with each movement.

“You’ll find out.” His
pupils glinted in the dim shadows of the booth. “Don’t you trust me?”

I hesitated. “I’m not
sure,” I said honestly. He cocked his head with interest. “But I’ll go anyway.”

I slid out of the booth,
planted my hands on the table, and raised myself to a standing position. “Let
me just grab my things and change out of this monstrosity. Then I’m all yours.”

He grabbed my wrist.
“Why don’t you leave the dress on?” he said with another blatant stare at my
naked thighs.

I nodded and strolled to
the back office, turning around once to see Cayne watching the light bounce of
my skirt against my ass. I retrieved my purse and fished around the interior
for my phone, but I was unable to locate it after three full circuits through
the roomy cavity and all of the pockets. The last time I remembered seeing it was
on the kitchen table at breakfast. It was probably still there. I replayed the
events of that morning, remembering Aunt Lu’s drooping shoulders and tired
voice and the topography of age lines that creased her skin. If Granton had
sent any more threatening messages during the day, Aunt Lu might have seen them.
My stomach sank with the thought.

I stuffed my jean shorts
and t-shirt into my purse and trotted out to the dining room. Cayne was already
waiting by the door. He placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward
his truck. His touch felt sweet and protective.