Raw Desire (14 page)

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Authors: Kate Pearce

BOOK: Raw Desire
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Her breath caught as she saw a photograph of herself modeling some up-and-coming European designer. Ally surveyed her own printed image. God, she looked so thin and so spaced out. How could anyone have found her attractive enough to book her for anything? But six years ago she'd been at the height of her fame, thin, and wasted on drugs and alcohol and absolutely what some designers wanted to hang their clothes on—a lanky pile of bones.
Ally took out the next magazine and then the next, turning to every marked page to discover yet another appalling image of herself. She sank to the floor, the last magazine clutched to her chest. Tears burned behind her eyes as she thought about all those wasted years when she'd tried to convince herself that she was happy and had only succeeded in almost destroying herself. Had her mother kept every mag she'd ever appeared in? And if so, why?
The front doorbell rang and Ally jumped. She wasn't expecting anyone. Part of her wanted to continue sitting on the floor and contemplate her mother's actions. Only good manners made her go and see who it was.
Ally opened the door and found Jane with a covered dish in her hands. “Hey, Ally. I meant to bring this over for you last week, but I had unexpected company for dinner.” Jane blushed and looked sideways at Ally. “You know how much Rob can eat, and he loves my cooking. He demolished the whole chicken pie. I had to make you a new one.”
Jane kept talking and walked right past Ally toward the back of the house. She was wearing yellow shorts and a T-shirt with daisies, and her brown hair was drawn back from her face in a ponytail. Ally followed and watched as Jane deposited the casserole dish on the countertop. “Just take the lid off and put it in the oven to reheat for about half an hour and it will be fine.”
“That's very kind of you, Jane,” Ally said. “Would you like something to drink? I have lemonade or water.”
Jane was looking around the kitchen as if she was a prospective buyer come to view the house. “Oh, water will be fine, thanks, Ally. How's the house coming along? I have a friend who's a Realtor who'd be really happy to help you sell the place. But Rob said you still had a lot to do.”
“It is a lot of work.” Ally handed Jane a glass and sipped at her own. “My mom kept the strangest things.”
“Like what?”
Ally shrugged. “Like hundreds of magazines. I'm going to have a truckload of paper to take to the recycling place by the end of the week.”
“Maybe she was into recycling and just hadn't gotten around to taking them herself.”
“I suppose that could be it,” Ally said carefully. “Whatever her reasons, I'm going to have to get rid of the stuff if I'm going to sell the house.”
“You're not staying, then?”
“I don't think so.” Ally leaned against the old refrigerator, glad of the cold metal at her back.
Jane sipped at her water. “To be honest, I'm kind of glad about that, Ally.”
“You are?”
“Because when you're around, Rob doesn't seem to notice me anymore.” Jane's smile was resigned.
“I'm sure he does.”
“Nope, it's like you put a spell on him.”
Ally met Jane's cool gaze. “I'm not trying to get in your way, Jane. Rob and I have a lot of stuff to talk through, but when we're done, he'll be all yours again.”
Jane laughed. “Heck, he isn't mine at all. I'm just hoping he might be one day.” She sighed. “He's a hard man to catch.”
“He's a hard man.”
“Rob is?” Jane looked surprised. “I've always found him to be incredibly sweet.”
Ally couldn't help but smile back at Jane. “That's probably why he likes you.”
Jane looked hopeful. “He told you that?”
“He said he was seeing you.”
Jane put her glass down on the tabletop. “It's all very casual. I'm trying not to push him into anything.”
“Good for you. Rob's not the type of guy you can make do anything he doesn't want to.” Ally's smile felt strained. She felt bad talking about Rob as if he meant nothing to her. She felt even worse that she was fucking him and that Jane, who seemed so sweet, obviously had no idea. But it was only temporary, and she truly meant to leave him soon . . . didn't she?
Jane wandered back out into the hallway, and Ally followed her, pasting on yet another smile.
“Oh my goodness, I see what you mean about the boxes.” Jane paused at the open dining room door. “I hope your mother was more organized about her private papers.”
“Actually, she was.” Ally's gaze settled on her mother's desk. “She left everything in good shape.”
“Luckily for you.”
Ally smiled. “Yeah, because otherwise it could've taken me years to sift through all this lot for the important stuff, and then I'd never leave.”
“There must be hundreds of boxes. If you need help shifting them, let me know.”
“Well, actually, Rob and Jackson volunteered to help me, so I should be fine. They both have big trucks.”
Jane frowned. “I think you should keep away from Jackson, Ally. Why does he want to be in this house?”
“To help me?”
“More likely to make sure that you don't find anything to tie him in with Susan's murder.”
“You think Susan was murdered too?”
“Of course I do.” Jane paused. “And we all know by whom.”
Ally felt like she was being sucked in to an episode of a TV cop show. “You think Jackson killed her.”
“I do.”
“What would he gain from murdering Susan?”
Jane raised her eyebrows. “It's simple. He's obsessed with Rob. He found a way to get rid of both of the women who were in his way—you and Susan.”
“But wasn't Susan going to dump Jackson anyway?”
“I'm not so sure about that. She was crazy about him.”
Ally thought back to the expression on Jackson's face on the previous night when he'd touched Rob so intimately. She'd always known there was something between the two guys, but she'd never considered it dangerous.
She shook her head. “I think you're way off base, Jane. Jackson and Rob are best buddies.”
“Think what you like, Ally. I'm not going to change my opinion. But watch out. Now that you're back, Jackson might get busy trying to run you out of town again.” Jane started toward the front door and then stopped. “Drat, I left my sunglasses in your kitchen. I'll just go and get them.” Her voice faded as she hurried down the hallway. “You can bring the pie dish back anytime. You know where I live, right?”
“Yes, I do,” Ally shouted after her. “I have a casserole dish to deliver back to your neighbor, Mrs. Orchard. I can bring them both back at the same time.” Ally waited until Jane reappeared with her sunglasses now propped on her nose. “Thanks again for the pie.”
“You're welcome and take care of yourself, all right?”
“I will. I promise I won't let Jackson come anywhere near me with his gun either.”
“I suppose you think I'm delusional now, but Susan was scared of him, you know? I used to read her diary sometimes, when she wasn't looking, and she was very unhappy at the end.”
Ally opened the door, and Jane stepped out into the sunshine. “Bye, Jane, and thanks again.”
“Bye, Ally. Take care.”
Ally closed the door and leaned against it. Either Jane had a very overactive imagination or there was some truth in what she said. Someone wasn't keen on Ally being back in Spring Falls, but she still didn't believe it was Jackson. She turned back to the pile of boxes. Everything was so unclear she might as well continue with another hopeless task and sort out her mother's stuff.
13
A
lly handed Rob a glass of lemonade and led him through to the dining room. He studied her appreciatively. Her hair was tied back, and she was wearing frayed denim shorts that barely covered her ass and a tank top with no bra underneath that made him want to slide his hands under the thin cotton and—
“See?”
Rob paused to survey the opened pile of boxes. “See what?”
Ally took out a pile of old magazines and handed them to him. “There are twenty-five boxes on this table, and they are all filled with these.”
“Magazines?”
Ally flipped the pages of the top copy and pointed at the picture. “They are all photos of me.”
Rob glanced at her and then flipped through the remaining magazines. “Hell.”
Ally leaned against the table. “Why do you think she kept these?”
She looked so tired and miserable he wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight. “Because she wanted to?”
“But why? When I lived here, she always made me feel like I was a nuisance and that she couldn't wait to get rid of me. She even . . .”
Rob tensed as Ally tightened her lips and simply shook her head.
“She even what?”
Ally turned her face away from him and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “She never liked me, Rob, so why did she keep all this stuff?”
“Maybe she changed. Maybe she regretted what happened between you. Did she ever try and contact you?”
“In the first year, she contacted me and asked for money. When I was making some, I sent her a check once a year for about six years.” Ally walked across to the desk and stood looking down at it. “The funny thing is, Ruth never used the money. She just kept it in a separate savings account.”
Rob considered what to say to her. “Sounds like she felt bad about taking your cash after all. And she did clean up her act, Ally. She stopped selling and using, and there were no guys hanging out at the house after you left.”
“She blamed me for that, too, you know? She said I was flirting with her guys and that's why they never stuck around.” Ally shivered. “Like I really wanted to be fondled by disgusting old men.”
A sick feeling tightened Rob's gut. “Did any of them try to get it on with you?”
Ally looked at him for a long moment, a wealth of unpleasant experiences locked in her eyes. “Of course they did. I had to lock my door to keep them out from when I was about ten.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“What could you have done?” She shrugged her thin shoulders. “And I didn't want you to know how I lived. You were the one good thing in my life. The one person not tainted by my mother.”
“She hit on me once. Did I ever tell you that?”
“My mother did?”
“Yeah, I was waiting for you to come down and go to the football game. She was kind of drunk and came on to me.”
“While we were still at school?”
“Yeah. When I was a junior and you were a freshman. I was too scared to come into your kitchen after that. I used to whistle for you from the yard, remember?”
Ally covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, why didn't you tell me?”
“The same reasons you didn't tell me anything. I didn't want to spoil what was between us, and I knew you'd be mortified.” He hesitated. “I knew what your mom was like, Ally. Everyone knew.”
“That she was a drunk, a slut, and a drug user? Yeah, everyone knew that. But you, Jackson, and Lauren were the only people who made me feel like it didn't matter.”
Rob tensed as Ally swung around and shoved at one of the boxes on the table. It fell to the floor, and a pile of magazines slid out like a waterfall. “It's okay, Ally.”
“No, it's not. I want to hate her, but how can I when I'm in her house, touching her things, seeing . . . this.” She gestured at all the boxes. “She's a mystery to me, and I just can't stand it.”
Rob walked across and drew her into his arms. She felt so right there, her head on his shoulder, her narrow frame pressed against him. “Maybe when you clean out her stuff, you'll get more of a sense of what she was really like.”
She raised her head to look at him. “I found her diaries, Rob. I'm not sure if I even want to read them.”
Rob felt a leap of excitement. “Your mom kept a journal?”
“She did.” Ally jerked her head in the direction of the desk. “I found all the books in there.”
“Are you going to read them?” Rob released Ally, his stance all business. “Because I'd really like to know—”
“What?” Ally interrupted him, her faint smile disappearing. “You sound like a cop now. What are you hoping will turn up? Her drug stash?”
“As far as I know, she stopped using a couple of years after you left.”
Ally stalked out of the room back toward the kitchen, from where a delicious smell of chicken pie floated out.
Rob sniffed appreciatively. “Have you been cooking?”
“Don't change the subject,” Ally snapped. “
You
say she'd stopped. I have no idea if that is true. I hadn't spoken to the woman in almost ten years.”
Anxious to keep her mind off the diaries, Rob was quite willing to take the heat and go down that path. “Do you want me to bring one of the K-9 dogs in?”
“Are you serious?” Ally faced him, her hands on her hips.
“I'm just offering.”
“Then stop it.” She went across to the cupboards and took out some plates. “Are you hungry?”
“I'm always hungry, and that pie smells good.”
“It should. Your girlfriend made it.”
“You did?”
“I'm not your girlfriend. I'm just your . . .”
“Fuck buddy.” Even as he said it, he hated the sound of it and curled his lips in distaste.
She flicked the dish towel at him. “Jane made the pie.”
“Jane Evans?”
“Yes, your girlfriend, and let me tell you I felt awful having her standing in my kitchen bringing me food while I'm seeing you behind her back.”
“She's not my girlfriend. She's just a friend I go out with occasionally.”
Ally turned her back on him and got the pie out of the oven. “So you're not sleeping with her, then?”
“With Jane? No. I reckon she'd want an engagement ring on her finger before she'd let me have my wicked way with her.”
“I suppose that makes it marginally better, although I still feel bad, and so should you.”
He drew a cross over his heart. “I promise I won't go out with her while you're here, okay?” Rob offered.
“Hmm.” Ally plonked the pie onto the table between them, and Rob's mouth watered. He waited while she dug him out a big portion and then sat opposite him.
He took his first taste and almost moaned. “Damn, but she does make a good pie.”
“She sure does,” Ally said. “And they do say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.”
“And they are so wrong.”
“What's the way to your heart, then, Rob?”
He looked down at his lap and then winked at her. “You know what it is, honey.”
“To your heart? I thought that way led to your bed or any other place you want to have sex with me.”
“Maybe I don't have a heart.”
“Sure you do, and a woman like Jane would be perfect for you.”
“Are you trying to hook me up?”
“I'm just saying that there are many women around here who could live up to even your high standards.”
He put down his fork and took a long, slow drink of his lemonade. “I don't intend to get married, Ally.”
“Aw . . . did I ruin it for you?”
He glanced at her. “Yeah.”
“I doubt it. You're not the sort of man who'd let a woman dictate his life.”
“Lauren likes to try and dictate to me.”
He wished she'd stop talking. She had an annoying habit of getting through his defenses and making him want to say. . . what? That she had destroyed him and that he'd never found the courage to love someone like he'd loved her?
Ally's gaze sharpened. “I've been meaning to ask you about something Lauren said yesterday outside the diner. She said that it was all your fault.”
“And she was right. I forgot to set the alarm.”
“No, Lauren mentioned it before you even got there. Just after she'd lost it with me about giving me a job in the first place.” Ally pointed her fork in his face. “What did you do?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You made her give me the job, didn't you?”
Rob sat back and contemplated Ally's furious face. “I asked her if she had any jobs open, sure.”
“And told her to employ me?”
“As I said, I can't tell Lauren to do anything.”
“Rob, why would you do that?”
“Because you needed the money and—”
Ally stood up. “You felt sorry for me?”
Rob shrugged. “Something like that.”
“Because you wanted to give Lauren a sitting target and wanted me to stick around for the sex?”
“Ally . . .”
“What?”
“Sit down.”
She glared at him for a long moment and then sat back in her chair with a decided thump.
“I wanted you to stick around, period.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He sighed. “When I saw you again, I realized there was stuff I wanted to clear up with you, stuff from the past.”
“You can't always make everything neat and tidy in life.”
“I know that. I'm a cop for Christ's sake.”
“I've apologized to you for what I did. You're getting all the free sex you want. What else can I do?”
“Stay here and talk to me?”
Ally glanced down at her clasped hands. “So, just because you wanted me to ‘stick around' to help you sort out the past, you interfered in my life again and got me a job with Lauren.”
“I did what I thought was necessary to keep you here, yeah.”
“For your own benefit.”
Rob tried to cling to the remnants of his temper. “Ally, what do you want me to say?”
She slowly stood up again. “You can't order my life for me, Rob. That's one of the reasons I left in the first place. I can't let you do that anymore.”
He set his jaw. “I didn't—”
“You used your influence to get me a job.”
“Hell, I used my influence to get Jackson a job, and I don't notice him complaining about it.”
“That's not fair. I've fought hard to learn to stand up for myself, to take responsibility for my actions and to regain my self-respect.”
Rob stood, too, his hands clenched at his sides. “I know that! I respect you!”
“Do you? Then why didn't you ask me about the job first? Give me the choice as to whether I wanted you to ask Lauren or not?”
“Because . . .”
“Because it didn't occur to you, did it? You just thought good old Ally would be so grateful that she might hang around longer so that you could have more sex with her.”
“It wasn't about the sex.”
She held his gaze. “Are you sure about that?”
He glared back at her. “Oh, yeah, I'm sure. Because I gave you a choice about that and you chose to be just where I wanted you.”
“On my knees.”
“Where
you
wanted to be, so don't blame all this shit on me.” He pushed his chair in and turned toward the door. “This is crazy, Ally. You're trying to turn everything into a battle about dominance, and it doesn't have to be like that. You're not the only one who can change. Yeah, I want you to submit to me in bed, but I sure as hell don't want a doormat. I'll even admit I got you the job because I felt sorry for you—where's the harm in that?”
“But I don't
want
you to feel sorry for me.”
He kept his back to her. “Trust me, I don't anymore. Jackson was right about that at least. You don't need my help at all, do you?”

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