Hiding Behind Love Page 3

  Tears welled in my eyes and I closed them, trying to hold them in. I loved my mama more than I could ever say with words, and it killed me whenever she talked like this. It meant she knew she wouldn’t be around much longer and was trying to tell me everything she had to say before she was gone.

  I could feel Carissa watching our exchange, and each time her eyes landed on me, it felt as if a jolt of electricity arced through my veins, jumpstarting a heart that had felt dead inside my chest for entirely too long.

  “If it would help you that much, I’d be glad to stay for a little while,” Carissa conceded quietly, making my heart feel as if it was truly beating for the first time in years. What was this hold this woman I’d known for about an hour holding over me, and how did I escape it without being destroyed in the process?

  Chapter Three

  Carissa

  Kolton seemed distraught about his mother asking me to stay to help her around the house, relieving some of the burden from his shoulders, and I wondered if I’d made the right choice in agreeing to stay and help them out. I didn’t get the opportunity to ask because, as soon as I’d agreed, Bonnie had shooed Kolton out the door like he was a pesky fly trying to get into her banana pudding.

  “Let’s get ya settled inta a room so you’ll be comfortable during your stay with us,” Bonnie said happily, though she looked exhausted. She paused in the doorway for a moment to catch her breath, and it hit me that maybe Kolton hadn’t been emotional over my staying but over the fact his mama needed the help to begin with.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, gently laying my free hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t ya worry your pretty little head about me, darlin’. I’ll be right as rain soon enough,” she said vaguely, then pushed away from the door frame and shuffled toward the staircase.

  “My room’s down here, right over there,” she said as she pointed toward a hall leading under and beyond the staircase. “It’s not so easy for me ta climb up and down the stairs these days, so I just stay down here most of the time. Both you and Kolt will have the two bedrooms upstairs.”

  I noticed her eyes glittered with mischief when she talked about Kolton and I in the same sentence. She wouldn’t happen to be playing matchmaker would she? It was a strong possibility. In fact, I my gut told me she was, based on a couple of the looks I’d seen passed between mother and son back in the kitchen.

  My brain buzzed the entire slow trip up the stairs, trying to figure out how to discourage her without hurting her feelings or offending Kolton. It wouldn’t be easy, considering my traitorous body wanted to climb and ride him until neither of us could move.

  “That one will be your room.” Bonnie pointed to the closed door on the left. “And that one’s Kolt’s. Ya can see where the bathroom is. If ya need anythin’ at all, don’t hesitate ta ask.”

  I prayed I’d imagined the wink she’d given me when she pointed to Kolton’s room, but her lingering smile discouraged any hope I had of that being true.

  “Thank you,” I said, shifting uncomfortably.

  “No thanks needed. Ya go on ahead and get settled in and come down for lunch ‘bout noon,” Bonnie instructed, patting my forearm gently, and I noticed how frail her hand looked. The skin was almost translucent, and her blue veins stood out in stark contrast.

  “I’m ready to get started, just as soon as I put my bags in the room,” I told her, squaring my shoulders.

  “Nonsense. Ya obviously been travelin’ a ways and haven’t gotten much rest. Go ahead and get a shower, unpack, and get comfortable. There’ll be time enough for cleanin’ later,” Bonnie said as she waved off my statement.

  I was confused and frustrated, not understanding why she’d talked me into staying if she was just going to prolong me actually helping her. Unless her true motivation wasn’t for me to help her but instead what I’d suspected: trying to instigate something between Kolton and I.

  “No, really, I’m fine,” I argued, but she stopped me with a look.

  “No backtalk, young lady. I said ta get yourself takin’ care of. Now get to it and don’t let me see ya ‘til noon for lunch unless ya need somethin’,” Bonnie declared, hands on her hips and firm glint in her eyes.

  I saw quickly how she’d kept Kolton in line growing up, unable to push my argument any further for fear of her wrath.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said, my voice sounding more contrite than I could ever remember hearing it. Not even when my father was demanding my obedience had I sounded like this.

  “And stop calling me ‘ma’am.’ Ya can either call me Bonnie or Mama. None of that Mrs. Reed shit either,” she said forcefully, and my eyes widened in surprise when I heard the curse word slip from her lips. “Don’t look so shocked. Ya don’t grow up ‘round here without learnin’ to curse like a sailor. You’ll see.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. I could picture the guys out working the ranch and holding nothing back as they razzed each other all day to make the time pass. From what I’d seen when I’d been walking, there wasn’t much else to pass the time around here.

  “I’ll have to take your word for it,” I told her in amusement.

  “Ya sure do have a beautiful smile. Ya should use it more,” Bonnie commented before turning and starting her descent down the stairs.

  “Can I help you?” I offered, worried she’d fall and hurt herself.

  “Nah. I’m good,” she said and waved me off again. “If I have ta, I’ll just sit and scoot my way down like I did as a kid. Good times.”

  I shook my head and watched as she continued on, staying put at the top, just in case I had to rush down to assist her. Instinct told me her health wasn’t the greatest. I just didn’t know what was wrong yet. No doubt someone would probably tell me if I hung around long enough.

  It still worried me that someone could easily find me here and that it would cause trouble for the Reeds. They seemed like nice people and didn’t need the hassles dealing with my father would bring down on them. He was mean and relentless unless things went exactly as he’d decided they were going to go, which was why I’d always toed the line. I’d seen others catch his wrath.

  A sudden wave of guilt and embarrassment hit me for even possibly thinking I could run away from him and his decision that I marry Carver, and I felt stupid for even attempting to. With the resources he possessed, he’d find me no matter how much running I did. I wasn’t even sure the witness protection program could successfully keep me hidden from him. The question was, should I stay and risk the Reeds or should I keep going to put distance between them and me? It was a difficult decision to make.

  For the first time in my life, I felt as if I could call a place “home” if I let myself. The stuffy penthouse we lived in back in New York sure never felt like a real home. I hadn’t even been allowed to run around and play inside for fear I’d break some priceless item my mother had collected from some far-off place.

  I’d grown up at an early age, afraid to cross my parents or damage one of their cherished objects. They were always so worried about appearances. I couldn’t have a single wrinkle in my clothes, let alone a speck of dirt, or I’d be forced to go change immediately. I’d hated it but, after the one time, never complained. The memory flooded back into my mind just as Bonnie reached the last stair.

  I was eight years old, and my friend Addison had invited me to go to her birthday party in Central Park. We’d just sat down to dinner when I decided to go ahead and ask before even taking a bite of my food. My stomach was in knots from nerves, and I needed to get it over with before I “chickened out” as the kids at school would put it.

  “Excuse me…Mom…Dad…” I began hesitantly, knowing their answer before even daring to make the request but determined to not only ask but get their approval.

  Mother turned to face me without saying a word and raised an eyebrow in disdain that I’d dared to speak up at the dinner table while they were in the middle of discussing whichever function they’d be attending this comin
g weekend. Daddy only catered to the wealthiest people in his law firm—that I knew from a very young age. He’d made sure of it.

  “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I was hoping I would be allowed to ask your permission for something.” I knew using the proper manners and etiquette they’d paid a fortune to have drilled into me would get me further than just trying to ask the way a normal kid would. My parents grilled into me that in no way was I a normal child, and I was expected to behave appropriately to the status I’d so luckily been born into.

  “What is it?” my father asked after a few moment’s pause, as if he’d been waiting to see if I’d back down if he didn’t answer me. Evidently, respectfully waiting without talking or looking away had been the right move because he’d responded.

  “Addison Turner is having her ninth birthday party in Central Park this weekend. She gave me an invitation today, and I would like permission to be able to go,” I told him, carefully wording my request. It was weird how I was the only kid in my class who had to speak in such a proper manner. None of the other kids from wealthy families in my school were forced to. Of course, they were also allowed to play and get dirty, having nannies to tend to cleaning them up so their parents didn’t have to deal with it at all.

  “Absolutely not,” my mother said, aghast. The look of horror on her face told me she wouldn’t hear another word on the topic.

  “But—”

  “You heard your mother. End of discussion,” my father said, and his tone brooked no argument. I briefly had thoughts of either running away or sneaking out and going anyway but quickly dismissed both. Central Park was several blocks away, and I’d never been out on my own before.

  “I hate you! I hate you both! I hate this stupid apartment and your stupid stuff. For once I just wanna be a kid and go play with my friends!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, unable to hold back the rage that poured through me like vinegar.

  “Excuse me?” My father’s voice was low with the undercurrent of his temper barely being reined in. I didn’t care though.

  “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” I repeated until my mother’s hand lashed out and struck my cheek with a resounding crack, the stinging pain shocking me into silence. I’d never been hit before, and tears welled up in my eyes quicker than I could blink them away.

  “You will apologize for your behavior right now, young lady,” my mother ordered, but I crossed my arms over my chest and clamped my mouth shut, staring at her stubbornly. It was the first and only time I ever dared to cross my parents.

  “You should be grateful for everything you have. You’re a very lucky young lady,” my father began.

  They never called me a girl. It was always “young lady.”

  “There are children out there living on the streets, going hungry and sleeping in a cardboard box. You have this beautiful home and two parents to take care of you.”

  “There are children who have no parents to care for them and they live in group homes,” my mother added snottily.

  “There are still other children who have parents, but their parents couldn’t care less about them and spend their money on drugs or alcohol instead of buying them the things they need like shoes, clothes, and food. Those parents often hurt their own children,” my father continued as if my mother hadn’t even spoken, but she couldn’t care less. She was busy nodding in agreement.

  My heart just hurt for those children they were talking about. I wondered why nobody ever did anything to help them. I opened my mouth to ask, but my father held his hand up, effectively silencing my question. The stinging in my cheek reinforced the lesson of keeping my mouth shut.

  “Now you will go to your room without finishing your dinner and think about all you have versus what those other children don’t have. We don’t want to see you until you are ready to apologize for your disrespectful behavior,” my father dictated from his seat at the head of the table.

  I instantly wanted to rebel against his punishment, my stomach suddenly rumbling loudly in the silent dining room as my hunger hit me with force.

  I’d been so focused on getting them to approve me going to the party, I hadn’t paid attention to my hunger, and now it was too late. Neither of them would back down, and so I would remain hungry until they either decided I’d learned my lesson and allowed me to eat my dinner or the following morning when breakfast was served. Based on the disapproving looks on both of their faces, I knew it wouldn’t be until breakfast that I’d be allowed to sate the hunger eating me alive from the inside out.

  “Yes, sir,” I said softly, pushing my chair away from the table and exiting the room without another word. I went straight to my room and crawled onto my bed. I tucked myself into a tight ball and cried my eyes out. I cried for those children my parents told me about and their suffering. I cried because I was starving. I cried because my cheek still hurt where my mother had slapped me. I cried because I’d failed in my mission, and my one opportunity to play like the actual kid I was had slipped right through my fingers before I’d ever gotten the chance to really grasp it.

  “You all right?” Kolton asked, standing a few steps below me and searching my face with worried eyes.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” I shook my head, pushing the memory far back in my mind and willing it to stay where it had for fourteen years.

  “What had ya lookin’ so lost in thought?” he asked curiously, taking a step closer to where I stood rooted.

  “Just a childhood memory. Nothing important,” I said, hoping he’d just take my word for it and drop the subject easier than he’d quit pushing to know why I was running and hiding.

  “Ya sure don’t look like you’re doing much gettin’ settled. Room not to your likin’?” he asked with amusement. “Or did you get so caught up daydreamin’ that ya haven’t even bothered to look in there yet?”

  His glance at my duffle bag and suitcase told me he knew the answer already; he was just trying to get a rise out of me. Refusing to rise to his bait, I huffed and headed toward the first door I saw.

  “Um, unless you’re plannin’ on sharin’ a room with me, it’s the door on the left. Not that I’d complain about havin’ ya as a roommate. I’m sure we could make it work,” I glared over my shoulder, and he winked at me with a lazy grin. My insides turned into the consistency of jelly, and I prayed I could make it into my room without embarrassing myself any further. I heard him chuckle behind me as I twisted the old knob and pushed the door open.

  “What are you doing up here anyway? I thought you had so much work to take care of on the ranch,” I turned and said defensively before closing the door.

  “Mama sent me up here ta see if ya needed some fresh sheets and towels. It’s been a while since anyone’s stayed in that room, and it might be a bit stuffy. She also instructed me to tell ya to open the windows and air the room out for that very reason,” he told me lazily, scanning my body from top to bottom as if he was debating what color lingerie I was wearing. It sent a shiver of desire racing down my spine.

  I couldn’t imagine I was all that attractive—not having showered after my long walk yesterday and sleeping in their stables. For the first time since he’d woken me that morning, I realized there was probably hay sticking out of my hair, and it must be sticking out in every which direction, too.

  Horrified that I probably looked like a vagrant, I slammed the door in his face. His hearty laughter filtered through the wood, warming me all over and in all the most delightful ways. I waited with my ear pressed against the door until I heard his boots clunk noisily down the stairs before I released the breath I’d been holding and dared to move farther into the room.

  No wonder Bonnie was so adamant about me taking the time to shower before coming back downstairs. She was trying to politely tell me I looked like shit, and I hadn’t taken her hint at all. They probably thought I was stupid and were wondering why they’d offered to take me in and help me by now.

  I gathered what I’d need for a shower and peeked out of t
he bedroom, making sure Kolton was gone before stepping out and rushing into the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind me and flipping the lock for good measure. I carefully arranged my stuff, avoiding looking in the mirror until I absolutely had to at how awful I knew I had to look.

  I noticed a fresh towel and washcloth hanging from the bar next to the shower and smiled. Apparently, Kolton had gotten me a set before heading back to wherever he’d come in from. I didn’t know why such a little thing brought a smile to my face, but it did, and I wasn’t going to complain. I was just going to clean up while ignoring the fluttering of my heart in my chest at the thought he’d cared enough to do it in the first place.

  After turning the water on to heat up and stripping out of my clothes, I dared to look in the mirror over the pedestal sink and gaped at the image peering back at me. It was a wonder they hadn’t just thrown me out on the streets in horror. I was a filthy mess, and my hair was a rat’s nest.

  Unable to stand it a moment longer, I grabbed my brush, yanking it through the tangles so I could scrub the dirt streaking my skin away. There was no way in hell I’d allow Kolton or his mama to see me looking this disheveled again.

  Chapter Four

  Kolton

  I replayed the scene at the top of the stairs repeatedly as I prepared lunch. All I’d wanted to do was wrap Carissa up in my arms and hold her until the sad look on her face from whatever memory was capturing her full attention disappeared. Knowing it would be a huge mistake to do so, I teased her instead, hoping to keep some distance between the two of us, until she’d turned toward my room. Then all I could think about was getting her on my bed and ravishing her luscious body.

  Always having a vivid imagination as a kid, I could imagine the rosy color of her nipples as they hardened under my fingers, begging for the attention of my mouth as I toyed with and teased them, soft moans escaping her slightly parted lips. Her back would arch up, inviting me to taste the firm buds and relieve some of the tension building in her body as I pinched and pulled on her round peaks. I’d always been a breast man, and she had a set that would have most men drooling within five seconds of laying eyes on her. I’d had to check myself before I’d woken her up to make sure I wouldn’t make a fool of myself once her eyes opened.