Trust in Me (6 page)

Her lips responded with a timid grin as the concern and confusion darkening her expression faded. As he withdrew his hand, he allowed his fingertips to brush the curve of her cheek, and he felt her tremble. He couldn't say where he found the gumption to touch her that way, even with such a brief and light caress. The sensation of his fingers skimming her silky skin woke every nerve in his body. His body thrummed with a sharpened awareness of how smooth and soft her skin was. In reality, not just in his imagination. So much for his promise to himself to put her out of his mind. The simple touch would fuel his fantasies for weeks.

Cripes
.

"Go on and take your lunch break," he said, hearing the odd, husky quality of his voice.

With her gaze still fixed on his, she backed away slowly. Then she nodded and turned toward the back of the hardware.

He was still standing by the register, savoring the heady rush from touching her cheek, when he spotted Ray going into the break room. Ray, alone with Claire, could only mean trouble. As he headed back to run interference, the bell over the front door signaled a customer's entrance. He stopped, sighed, and turned around.

"Kevin, there you are! I brought you another strawberry pie." Mrs. Jernigan, a widowed woman twice Kevin's age who’d made no secret of her crush on him, sauntered up to the check-out counter and presented him with the homemade pie and a sugary smile.

"Thank you, ma'am. It looks delicious. That's really nice of you."

"Glad to do it, Kevin. I know how much you love them." She tucked a blonde curl behind her ear, and he couldn't help but compare the faded straw color of the woman's dyed hair to the shiny gold of Claire's.

"What can I do for you today, ma'am?" Kevin cut a quick glance to the door of the break room, wondering if Ray had made an ass of himself yet. He itched to get free of Mrs. Jernigan so he could check up on Claire, protect her from Ray's less than sterling personality. As it was, the widow chatted about the weather and her plans to visit her sister in Charleston for a good ten minutes before she told Kevin goodbye and left the store. Strawberry pie in hand, Kevin headed to the back room to assess the situation, glad to have the pie as an excuse for being there.

"Here." He set the pie on the table where Claire sat sipping a diet drink. "Y'all help yourselves to this. I can't eat it."

Ray took one look at the pie and laughed. "Old lady Jernigan's been by to drool over you again?" The stock clerk stuck his finger in the pie and scooped out a berry. "Pity the only women you attract have dentures and arthritis, Fuller." He sucked the strawberry off his finger with a loud slurp. "When you gonna tell her you're allergic to strawberries?"

Claire lifted her head and regarded Kevin with a look of surprise.

"I'm not going to tell her." Kevin shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Ray a level stare. "It would embarrass her and hurt her feelings if she thought I didn't eat her pies."

"That's sweet of you," Claire said.

He glanced at her and found her smiling at him with a breathtaking admiration in her eyes. His pulse jumped like a hopeful puppy at the pound.
Down boy! She's not in the market for a mutt.

He shrugged. "It's nothing."

Claire scowled. "Kindness is never nothing. It's thoughtful of you to protect her feelings like that. So...you're really allergic to strawberries?"

"I break out in hives. Not a pretty picture."

Ray snorted. "Look in a mirror, Fuller. You ain't so pretty
now
."

Kevin ground his teeth together and sent Ray a dark glare. Somehow the teasing he usually let roll off his back stung a little bit in front of Claire. Because Ray was right. Though he wouldn't call himself ugly, he wasn't anything special either, didn't turn women's heads. Especially exquisite women like Claire.

Ribbit
.

"I don't know, Ray." Claire pushed back her chair and took her soda can to the trash. "Most women find thoughtfulness a very attractive quality. I know I do."

Hold the phone! What was this?

Claire moved to the sink to wash her hands, and Ray edged over next to her. Kevin was still musing over Claire's last comment when he saw Ray sidle up to Claire and murmur something into her ear. The look of disgust that crossed Claire's face and the fact that Ray followed his comment by copping a quick feel of her bottom told Kevin all he had to know. A slow burn ignited in his gut and raised his blood to a boil. Somehow the sight of Ray's hands on Claire was particularly obscene. He didn't stop to analyze why.

Claire drew back from Ray with a gasp.

"Ray Lowery, do the words 'sexual harassment' mean anything to you?" Kevin barked.

The teen smirked. "Yeah, I was just checkin' out her-ass-ment."

Kevin choked down the urge to smash his fist into Ray's disrespectful mouth.

There's never an excuse to resort to fighting. Violence is a foothold for the devil,
his mother's voice echoed in his mind. He shuddered and sucked in a deep breath for calm.

"Ray, you've been warned. If you ever touch her again—"

Claire turned a wide-eyed expression toward Kevin. "Kevin, it's okay. I can—"

"It's
not
okay." He faced Ray as the teenager sauntered past him and toward the door. "I won't stand for any more of your crudeness."

Ray lifted a hand and shot Kevin a foul hand signal.

An impotent rage raced through Kevin, and he clenched his teeth so tight his jaw hurt. His attention was so focused on his problems with Ray that he didn't hear Claire approach. When she touched his arm, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

They spoke at the same time.

"Kevin, you don't have to—"

"Claire, I'm sorry about—" He gave her a half grin. "Ladies first."

She moistened her lips and scrunched her forehead as if choosing her words carefully. "I appreciate your defending me, but...I'd rather handle Ray on my own. I have to learn to deal with situations like that for myself. It's just the kind of real-life experience I need practice with. I don't want to be protected from the bumps in the road anymore."

Kevin raked a hand through his hair. "It's my job to deal with Ray when it affects the work atmosphere. What he did was blatant and illegal and the fact that his father owns the store doesn't protect him from the law. You shouldn't have to put up with his...behavior."

"Just the same, I need to learn to handle my problems by myself. Okay? Like Mrs. Proctor, for instance..."

Kevin winced. "Oh, I, uh...talked with her earlier. She's agreed to rent you a room. She's expecting you tonight."

Claire's shoulders sagged, and she looked away with a sigh. Then tipping her head toward him, she narrowed a curious gaze on him. "What did you say to change her mind?"

"I made it sound like she'd be doing me a favor." He flashed her a sheepish grin. "I told her how badly you needed a place to stay and that you didn't know where else to turn."

She stared at him, slack-jawed, for a moment. His heart drummed an anxious rhythm against his ribs, waiting for her to read him the riot act for overstepping his bounds and making her appear desperate.

Instead, she grinned. The corner of her mouth curled up slowly and dimpled her cheek and amusement dawned in her gold eyes like the morning sun. "You sneaky devil, you turned everything around on her so that she couldn't say no. You took the focus off her and why she needed someone living with her to preserve her pride."

Kevin dragged a hand across his cheek. "Guilty."

Claire laughed and stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm. The admiration he'd seen light her eyes earlier returned.

His breath hung in his lungs.

"Not only are you thoughtful, you're sly, too. Thank you."

She squeezed his arm gently before dropping her hand and heading out of the break room.

It took Kevin a while to wipe the slap-happy grin off his face. Finally, he brought his feet back to Earth with a dose of cold reality. Claire would soon tire of the job at Lowery's and go back to the lifestyle she was used to. No matter how encouraging the sparkle of admiration in her eyes, he'd only get hurt harboring any false hope where the princess was concerned. He'd given his heart to a woman from society's upper class once before, and Robin had stomped it flat. A relationship with him would only drag Claire down.

Kevin scoffed. What was he thinking? A
relationship
with Claire?
Yeah, as if
!

The amphibian in his head had good laugh over that one.

***

That night at Mrs. Proctor's house, Claire's hand sweated as she clutched the phone receiver and dialed her parents' house. She shouldn't be anxious over talking with them, but she knew how hard
this
conversation would be, knew how they'd react to the decisions she'd made. And she knew they'd try to convince her to give up her plans and come home.

But she couldn't do that. She had to be strong and not give in. She steeled herself with a deep breath.

Someone picked up after one ring. "Yes?"

Her father's tone jarred her. His typically gracious tone was rife with stress and impatience, neither of which boded well for this conversation.

"Daddy?" Hearing the tremor in her voice, she inhaled deeply, gathering her composure, and flattened her hand on Mrs. Proctor's kitchen table.

"Claire? Is that you?"

"Yes."

"Thank God! Are you all right? Your mother and I have been worried sick!"

She pictured her father, lines of distress over his silvery eyebrows, his square jaw tensed in disapproval. His dark eyes could alternately intimidate the bravest soul or charm his toughest critic as a situation dictated. Right now, she imagined those eyes bright with intensity, walking a fine line between anger and concern.

"I'm fine. Tell mom not to worry."

"Where the devil are you? And what were you thinking, taking off without word to anyone about where you were going or how long you'd be gone?"

"I was thinking that I was long overdue getting out on my own. I didn't say anything, because I knew you'd have only tried to change my mind. But I've lived under your roof..." She swallowed hard, mustering her nerve. "And your authority...long enough. I'm an adult, and it was high time I took control of my life."

"What the blazes are you talking about? Claire, is this about Blaine? Have you two had a spat? You know, you can't run away whenever you argue over something inconsequential."

"I don't consider his cheating on me inconsequential."

"Cheating? What makes you think—?"

"Please, Daddy, don't pretend you don't know. I overheard your conversation when you told him you'd look the other way as long as Blaine was discreet and as long as he got it out of his system before the wedding. How could you condone unfaithfulness in the man I was going to marry?" She didn't try to mask the pain and disillusionment in her voice.

"Wha—  Claire, honey, I—" Her father sighed. "What else did you hear?"

"Enough to learn that my marriage to Blaine was a key term in a merger with ITG Industries, his father's company."

"Wha–! That's not true. You must have misunderstood. Besides, you had no right to eavesdrop on my business discussions!"

Her breath hung in her throat, her lungs paralyzed with dismayed disbelief. His defensiveness, his implication she'd done something wrong, chafed her still raw wounds.
And you had no right to barter my happiness, my future to the highest bidder
, she longed to shout back, but bit her tongue. She might have mustered the courage to confront her father with the truth, but some old habits of deference were harder to overcome.

Forcing a calm she didn't feel into her voice, she replied, "I didn't intentionally eavesdrop, and I didn't stick around to listen for long. But I heard enough. The point is I saw my life in a new light. And I didn't like what I'd become."

"What's wrong with your life, for heaven's sake? Your mother and I have always given you everything you could need or want."

"What about choice? I want to decide for myself what I need, what will make me happy. And
who
will make me happy. I don't want to marry Blaine. I don't love him, and I'm not sure I ever really did. I know I can't trust him."

Her father said nothing for a moment then, with his voice couched low, asked, "Are you with a man? Have you gotten tangled up with some shyster—?"

"No!"

He grunted. "Claire, you have to be careful. A beautiful, wealthy girl like you is an easy target for men who'll promise you the moon, win your trust with a lot of sweet talk and lies, then rob you blind before you know what hit you."

"I said '
no
', Dad. There's no one else." But the minute the words left her mouth, Kevin's face flickered through her mind. She quickly shoved the image aside and focused on choosing the right words to make her father understand. "I'm alone, and that's the way I want it. I simply can't let
you
make my decisions anymore."

"Darling, you're not making any sense. What decisions? What—" He sighed. "This is just pre-wedding jitters. Understandable, but it's time to come home now."

"No, sir. I'm not coming home. I've gotten a job here and a new place to live. I intend to stay put. I'm finally taking charge of my life, and it feels good. I know you mean well, but I can't live my life according to your expectations any longer."

"Claire," he said in the tone he used to send her to her room as a child. "Where are you? Let me come get you. This willfulness is not like you."

"The sad thing is, Daddy, if you
really
knew me, really understood what I wanted from life and what made me happy, you'd know where I was. I'm doing exactly what I've dreamed I would ever since I was a child."

Silence answered her, and she could imagine her father's stern lips slack with surprise and confusion.

"I just wanted you to know I was safe and tell you not to worry. I'm doing what I want for the first time in years. And I can look myself in the mirror."