Never Doubt Me (9 page)

Great.

I try not to picture the fucker’s hands on my girl, but it’s tough. Kay told me they never had sex—thank fucking God—but there was one night when he did get half her clothes off in the backseat of his car. I bristle at the thought, but remind myself that, like my hookup with Missy, it’s all in the past.

Still, so I don’t fly off and sucker punch Nick just for the hell of it, I divert my attention away from him, focusing instead on the clean-cut guy who’s at the counter paying for the takeout order.

Even with only a view of the back of Clean-Cut guy’s head, there’s something vaguely familiar about him. His neatly trimmed dark-blond hair, athletic-build… I feel like I’ve seen him before. He’s not someone I know well, I’m sure of that, but I sense he’s from this town. Hell, if he’s here at Pizza House, he has to be from Harmony Creek. Only, his nice attire doesn’t fit in. A suit and tie on a hot day like today just screams out-of-towner.

But the mystery remains when guy-I-can’t-place never turns around. He slips out a side door with his pizza.

“Someone you know?” Will jerks his thumb toward the guy’s departing form.

I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so.”

At the counter, Nick’s dark eyes widen slightly when he sees me. Unlike with me and the dude at the counter, Nick obviously knows who the fuck I am. And he surely knows Kay and I are a couple. That juicy tidbit has made its way around this small town too many times to count.

Despite the awkwardness, Nick takes our order with efficiency. He jots down everything on an order pad, then excuses himself to “personally” take the order back to the kitchen.

“I want to make sure they get everything right,” he explains.

“Great, that’s cool,” I snort.

I know Nick just doesn’t want to get stuck making small talk with my brother and me while we wait for the two large pizzas we ordered to bake.

A waitress who looks like she’s worked at Pizza House for the past twenty years comes around the corner, just as Nick is heading toward the back.

He stops her midstep and tells her what we ordered, then adds, “Can you ring them up, Vi?”

“No problem, sweetie,” Vi replies warmly as she reaches for an order pad in the pocket of her apron. She removes a pen from the big bun on her head—dark hair streaked with gray—and recites the items we ordered while she writes them down.

When she steps over to the register, her eyes following her fingers as she taps in our order on a touch screen, she asks me, “So, young man, you being good to our girl?”

Clearly, Vi recognizes me as the local bad boy dating the beloved former Pizza House employee.

I smile charmingly when she looks up and I hand her the money. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

She smiles as she peruses my face and my body.
These older women are killing me today.

She takes the cash from my hand and says, “I swear, that Kay is one lucky girl. It’s been like a gathering of her good-looking men—past and present—in here this afternoon.” She proceeds to count off the list with her fingers. “Let’s see, there’s you, Nick, that last customer—”

Whoa…wait.
“The last customer? What are you talking about?”

She hands me my change and gives me a look like maybe I’ve missed something important. “That man who was leaving just as you arrived…he used to date Kay.”

Oh shit.

I sure did miss something important. Now I know why the dude looked so familiar. Doug-motherfucking-Wilson was no more than eight feet from me less than ten minutes ago. If only he’d turned around, then I would’ve recognized his face.

Fuck, this is bad. Kay’s mother wasn’t bullshitting; Doug is in Harmony Creek, right on schedule. And that means he’ll be looking for Kay so he can spew forth his four-years-too-late apology.

Yeah, right.
Not if I have anything to say about it. That fucker is not going to unload his guilty conscience onto my girl. She’s finally at a place of peace, coming to terms with Sarah’s untimely death. And Doug-fucking-Wilson isn’t going to be bringing that shit back to the forefront of sweet girl’s mind.

Kay doesn’t want to see him anyway, she’s told me as much. And she sure as fuck doesn’t need Doug’s phony apologies.

I had considered taking preventative action when Kay first told me about her ex’s plan, but now I am certain—I’m going to make sure that dickhead stays far away from Kay. Too bad he left the restaurant, or I’d nip that shit in the bud today.

Vi misreads the displeased look on my face. She says in a low but consolingly voice, “Aww, don’t you worry, gorgeous. You’re definitely the most handsome.”

I roll my eyes, and Will laughs out loud.

Nick returns a minute later and shoos away Vi. “Sorry about that,” he says apologetically. “She’s quite the talker.”

Will shakes his head. “Bro, this is one small fucking town.”

He doesn’t even know the half of it.

Nick chuckles like he’s agreeing with Will, but he shuts the fuck up when he sees my expression. I don’t have a problem with him, not at the present. Nope. But I do have an idea. And I’m about to enlist Nick’s help in taking care of the problem I presently face.

“So”—I lean forward on the counter—“the guy who was leaving with the takeout when we first got here, that was Doug Wilson, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nick replies slowly, eyes wary. “Why?”

I shrug. “I hear he’s in town for the next week or so. Does he come in here much when he’s around?”

Nick’s concern with my question is obvious, his expression is grim. But he answers nonetheless, “Yeah, Doug picks up a lot of takeout whenever he’s around. I’m sure he’ll be back.”

I grab an order pad off the counter and scribble down my cell phone number. “Do me a favor”—I tear the slip of paper from the pad and hold it out to a reluctant Nick—“give me a call next time he places an order. Hold him up a little, if you can. Give me some time to get here.”

Nick takes the slip of paper and stares down at the number I’ve written. “Is there some reason why you want to see him in person?” His voice is a mere whisper.

“Yeah, I got something I need to talk to him about.”

Knowing my background and my temper better than anyone, Will whistles under his breath. The kid knows what’s up.

I ignore Will, and raise a questioning brow Nick’s way. “Are you cool with helping me out with this?”

He folds the piece of paper and slips it into a pocket of his pants. “Yeah, sure. I’ll let you know when Doug orders again.” His eyes dart from me to Will, and then he points to the back of the restaurant. “Uh, your pizzas are probably ready. I should go check.”

After Nick is out of sight, Will says, “You look pissed. What was that all about?”

I mess with the order pads on the counter, stacking them up. “Nothing.”

“You got some ass to kick, I can help,” Will offers.

“Hey”—I turn abruptly and point a finger at my too-eager-to-fight brother—“you are doing nothing of the kind. This next week is all about you staying
out
of trouble, not getting into it. Got it?”

Will shrugs. “Sure, bro, whatever you say.”

I don’t mean to be so harsh with Will, especially after he’s already had a rough morning with Cassie leaving. But I sure as fuck don’t want him involved in my mess. Or what will probably end up turning into a fucking mess.

Because one thing is certain: Doug Wilson is not going to be searching out and upsetting Kay. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that motherfucker stays far, far away.

Chapter Six

Kay

I
come home from work on Friday, swap out my summer-green sundress for denim shorts and a peach-tone baby-doll tee, and then head across the driveway to the house.

“You look cute,” Chase says when I walk into the living room, where I find him and Will eating pizza and watching TV.

I plop down on the sofa next to Chase, lean over and grab a slice of pizza from his plate. “I see you started without me,” I say, before biting into a big glob of cheese and pepperoni.

“Sorry, babe,” Chase says.

Will looks up from where he’s stretched out on the floor in front of the TV. “Don’t be mad at Chase. It’s my fault we started without you. I was starving.” He takes a large bite of pizza, as if to illustrate the point, and once he’s finished chewing, he adds, “I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m not mad,” I say, smiling at Will. “I’m just teasing you two.”

After a few more bites of pizza, I recognize the distinctive flavor. I turn to Chase and ask, “Did you pick this up from Pizza House?”

I’m surprised Chase chose that particular restaurant. On account of Nick, we tend to avoid the place.

But, sure enough, Chase replies, “Yep.”

His short response, though, leaves me with the impression he doesn’t care to discuss his Pizza House run. I have to wonder why.

Chase suddenly reaches over to the end table and grabs an unopened can of soda. “Thirsty?” he asks, his lips curving into a mischievous smile.

When I see he’s offering me a lemon-lime soda—of course, it’s Chase’s favorite—I decide to have some fun.

Accepting the can from Chase, I make a show of reading the label. “Oh, big surprise, lemon-lime.” I huff and roll my eyes mock-dramatically. “I swear I can never get anything else in this house.”

Will, poor kid, misreads me once again. He sits up and offers to get me something else.

“There’re other things in the fridge,” he says, his expression serious. “Juice, water, beer—do you want any of those?”

Chase chuckles. “Kay is just giving me a hard time, Will. She loves the lemon-lime shit.” His eyes slide to me, and he winks. “Don’t let her tell you anything else.”

Will then takes the opportunity to endorse his brother’s love of lemon-lime soda. He sings the praises of how that particular flavor is “truly the very best.”

“God,” I interject, “you two are so much alike it’s scary.”

“I guess,” Will mutters, glancing away. “Whatever.”

Will acts like he doesn’t care, but it’s evident in the smile he’s trying to hide that he’s pleased by my comment. Chase picks up on Will’s satisfaction and smiles over at me. For some reason, though, Chase’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I know something has to be weighing on his mind. But, for the life of me, I can’t imagine what could be bothering him. He spent the day with Will, and they seem to have gotten along well. Heck, from what I’ve observed thus far, they’re getting along great.

That leads me to wonder if something happened at Pizza House. I hope there was no trouble with Nick Mercurio—or anyone else, for that matter.

Chase interrupts my reverie when he asks if I want to watch a movie. “Sure,” I reply.

Chase, Will, and I pick out a comedy and spend the evening in front of the TV.

Later, when Chase and I are going up to bed—no need to tromp over to my apartment and sleep there since Cassie is gone—I ask, “Everything went okay today, right?”

He replies, “Yeah, fine…today was great. Cassie left with her mom, Will and I went fishing down at the creek, and then we picked up the pizzas.”

I slow to a stop at the top of the stairs. “No problems at Pizza House, then?”

Chase drapes his arm around me. “Of course not, Kay.”

“Did you see Nick?”

“Yeah,” Chase says slowly, “he was there.”

I glance up at him, but instead of meeting my eyes, he urges me to start down the hall. “Let’s go to bed, Kay.”

“All right,” I acquiesce.

We stop by the bathroom to brush our teeth. But Chase finishes up before me and says, “See you in bed.” He then heads to the bedroom.

Hmm, something is definitely off.

A few minutes later, when I enter the bedroom, the first thing I notice is how the small lamp by the bed illuminates Chase’s tattoos, as well as all the hard muscles in his back. He looks so good, even when turned away.

I decide I’m done worrying about possibly nothing. If Chase claims things are fine, then I should take him at his word.

I crawl into bed and lean over him to switch off the light. As the room goes dark, Chase rolls onto his back. He grasps my waist and pulls me down on top of him.

I giggle as he nuzzles my neck.

“Something funny, sweet girl?” he asks, shifting so I can feel that he’s naked and, not surprisingly, hard and ready for me.

“Not at all,” I say.

Chase lifts the hem of my tee and says huskily, “How about we lose this shirt?”

“Sounds good to me.”

I sit up and swiftly pull my shirt over my head, and when I lean back down, I press my bare breasts to his warm chest. Chase groans and lifts his hips so he can push his hard cock into me. My panties, however, prevent us from joining.

Not for long, though, as Chase makes short work of my underwear, tossing it off to the side. He then, with no warning, sheaths himself in me. I gasp and he winds his fingers in my hair, tugging roughly, and then urging me down to his mouth.

Chase is rougher than usual tonight, but I have no complaints. I revel in his hungry kisses, relish his frenzied touches. His urgency leaves me breathless, particularly when his fingers find my clit, where he plays and plies me in all the right ways.

I hold on to wide shoulders, riding Chase’s hand and his cock. When I come, I cry out and bury my face into his neck. His pulse throbs against my lips, while a far different part of him pulses inside me.

“That was so good,” I rasp once I’ve recovered.

It’s always good like this, whether it be a session of lingering lovemaking or, like tonight, a quick fuck. Chase is just amazing when it comes to all things sex. But a little part of me is left wondering if this quickie was his way of distracting me.

Whatever the case, it worked.

When I start to move off of Chase, I am held in place. “We’re not done yet,.” he informs me.

“Oh really?” I trail a hand down his taut abs, straight to where he’s once again hardening fast. Wrapping my hand around his length, I begin to stroke. “It’s amazing how you can get so hard again so fast,” I comment.

“It’s all because of you, baby,” he rasps. “You turn me on so much.”

Chase closes his eyes and pushes his head back into the pillow. His breaths quicken and his mouth opens slightly. I move down his body, take him into my mouth. But after a few thrusts between my lips, he stops me.

Rolling me onto my back, he says, “I need to feel
you
, Kay. Not just your mouth.” He then pushes into me, telling me, “I love how you stretch and open for me when I first slide into you.”

When Chase is in as far as he can go, he stills, letting me feel his fullness, how he swells and hardens even more, just from being inside of me.

“God,” I groan.

“I could stay here all night”…he whispers…“never move.”

I want to respond that I could too, but, truth is, I
have
to move. I need to feel him; I have to create friction with what is filling me to capacity.

Chase, of course, is only too happy to give me free rein. He sits back on his heels while I raise my hips and slowly work his shaft in and out of my sex.

Chase watches, smirking and amused.

“Letting me do all the work?” I gasp as I slide up and down his length…over and over again.

“I like watching you fuck my cock” is his simple response.

“Ah, say it again,” I demand, glancing down to where we are so intimately joined.

I like when Chase talks dirty. And he’s very good at it. He knows what turns me on. He tells me now, in the raunchiest terms, the things he likes to do to me…and then he does each one.

His words, not to mention what he’s doing to my body, get me close to release. But I hold back. I want to keep fucking his cock, keep feeling his hands roam all over me, keep feeling his lips and his tongue. Everything he is doing feels so good, so right. There’s raw honesty in Chase’s actions.

How could I have doubted him earlier tonight?

“I wish we could keep doing this all night,” I say as I slow my pace.

“There’s nothing stopping us,” Chase replies.

He lowers his body down over mine, his hands lifting my ass so he can take over and drive into me. There’s no more talk, but I get what I want. We fuck—soft, hard, fast, slow—well into the wee hours.

Needless to say, we sleep in late the next day. Lucky for us, it’s the weekend.

Despite the late start—or maybe because of all the phenomenal sex that resulted in our sleeping in—Saturday begins as an exceptionally good day. Everyone is in a fine mood. Not just Chase and me, but Will, too. Plus, it’s a perfect summer day to match our moods, all blue skies and soft breezes.

Throughout what’s left of the morning, Chase and his brother spend time together out on the back porch, looking over Will’s latest pages for his comic book. I plop down in the kitchen, e-reader in hand, all set to read. But I find myself smiling more than reading as I listen to Chase and Will, laughing and talking. I hear Chase suggest some changes to the plot direction of Will’s comic, and then his brother thanks him for taking the time to look over his work.

When they come back into the house, I set down my e-reader.

Will follows my movement and says, “It’s too nice to sit inside and read, Kay. We should all do something fun.”

I shrug and say, “Hey, I’m up for anything.”

Will arches an eyebrow at his brother. “What about a day trip?”

Chase glances at me, and I nod. He then says, “Day trip it is.”

Chase doesn’t give us any details right away, but Will digs out our destination when we drive out of Ohio and into Pennsylvania.

“Where are we going?” Will asks as we travel on the turnpike.

“Pittsburgh,” Chase replies.

When we reach the city limits, we head into the downtown area. Chase informs us that there’s a festival of some sort going on. We park in a garage nestled among the tall buildings, then walk to where this event is taking place. Turns out, it’s some artsy event, complete with vendors selling their artsy wares and prominently displayed professional art of all genres everywhere.

Art is on display across a wide expanse that starts at the edge of where the buildings end and extending out along a piece of land—a park—that narrows to where three rivers converge.

“This is right up your alley,” I say to Chase as we walk past several stands all in a row.

Each one in this area appears to be selling sketches and paintings.

Will catches sight of a teenage girl with an easel in a clearing nearby. She’s drawing caricatures for passersby. He turns to us and says, “Hey, I’m going to check that out, okay?”

“Sure,” Chase replies, but not before Will is halfway to where the girl is set up.

Chase and I smile at each other. “Kids,” he says.

“I know, right?”

We stick close to where Will is speaking with the girl about her craft. Chase and I peruse the stands in the area. Most of the artwork is amazing, but I can’t help but think Chase’s art is better.

“You should do something like this,” I say when we step into one artist’s tented area.

Numerous sketches, mostly city scenes, line the walls, and some sit propped up in tiny easels on a table. Chase picks up a sketch that’s for sale. It’s of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It’s similar to the one he drew for me, the one that hangs above his bed, the one we make love under all the time.

As he peers down at the sketch, I lean into his shoulder and truthfully say, “Yours is so much better.”

“Thank you,” Chase replies softly, and then he places the sketch back on the table from where he picked it up.

Chase asks the artist how one goes about securing a spot for an event like this. The man, an older gentleman with wild gray hair, is very helpful. He gives Chase a card and some other information printed out on a sheet of paper.

Will returns just as Chase is pocketing the information. He sees the card and printed form and says, “Thinking of selling some artwork, bro?”

“Yeah…” Chase blows out a breath. “…maybe.”

“You should,” Will says excitedly. “You’re good enough that I bet you’d pull down some fat stacks.”

“Fat stacks, eh?” Chase chuckles at his brother’s slang, not to mention his enthusiasm.

I agree with Will, though. Chase
is
extremely talented. The sketchbooks from his time in prison are a testament to his skill. Some of the artwork contained in those books is disturbing, but every last one is nothing short of amazing. Encouraging Chase to sell his sketches, however, might take some doing. He’s shy about his talent. And he’s not exactly pressed for money. He doesn’t make a whole lot working for the church, but his grandmother left him some cash in the bank, as well as all that property and the house.

“Chase,” I say to him, “it is something to consider.”

While we start over to the next artist’s stand, he quietly replies, “Maybe.”

I don’t press any further. Chase is stubborn, and if and when he decides to sell his artwork, it will be on his own terms. In any case, the rest of our afternoon in Pittsburgh goes well. We spend the whole day at the arts festival, where we have an incredible time, and then it’s back to Ohio that evening.

The next day, after church and a visit to Sarah’s grave, we embark on another outing.

Chase, Will, and I drive a little north of Harmony Creek, to the closest multiplex in the area. The plan is to catch a matinee movie. We do exactly that, and after the show, on the ride back home, we stop at a family restaurant along the highway to grab dinner.

It’s there in a booth, as we’re laughing, talking, and eating, that I realize I honestly feel like I am part of their family. I feel like I belong, like I’m a part of something. I may only be Chase’s girlfriend at the moment, but I feel like his wife in so many ways. And Will feels like my young brother-in-law. It makes me curious as to what life will be like when Chase and I start a family of our own. The thought of Chase as the father of my children fills me with the warmest, most contented brand of joy, making me wish we could have children sooner rather than later.