Cut Too Deep Page 8

  Jenna forced her gaze away, down to the table, her cheeks heating. She couldn’t allow herself to have feelings for this guy. She just couldn’t.

  Ryker walked in, causing every person in the place to glance up at him as he did so. Casually, he dropped into the seat opposite and looked down at her untouched plate. “Are you not eating that?”

  She raised her eyebrows at him and shook her head. He picked up a piece of crispy bacon and munched down on it.

  He placed the half-eaten piece back on the plate. “So, I’ve decided you’re coming home with me.”

  She almost choked on her coffee. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re stuck in town until your car is ready, and you have nowhere to stay. I don’t mind having you around, so I figured I can offer you my bed.”

  “Your bed?”

  “Well, unless you’d rather have Mikey’s, of course.”

  “No!”

  “Would it make you feel better if I offered to sleep on the couch?”

  She wasn’t sure that it did, but she gave a shrug anyway.

  “Okay, so I’ll sleep on the couch.” But the side of his mouth twitched as he repressed a smile and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Though my couch is horribly uncomfortable.”

  She shook her head. “I thought I’d already explained why I couldn’t stay with you.”

  “It’ll be for one night, two, tops. No crazy ex-boyfriend is going to track you down in that time. In fact, you’ll be safer at my place ’cause there’s no way you’ll have left a paper trail leading there.”

  He had a point. Plus, she remembered telling herself last night that Garrett couldn’t be stalking her, having only just missed a parole meeting. What else was she going to do? Sleep in her broken down car at Ryker’s garage?

  “Come on, it’ll be fun,” he persisted. That cheeky twinkle reappeared in his eye. “The festival is today, and I’m sure I had plans for you wearing a t-shirt and covered in tomato juice.”

  Jenna widened her eyes at him. “Ryker!”

  He laughed. “Sorry, I can’t seem to help myself when you’re around. But seriously, come back with me. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She hesitated, torn between wanting to go back to Ryker’s house and wanting to do the best by him and his brother. At that moment, all the reasoning she’d applied to her thoughts to convince herself Garrett couldn’t have found her yet spoke louder than the crazy panic that so often chased her, and she gave in.

  “Okay,” she relented.

  Ryker grinned and punched the air.

  She held up a finger. “But as soon as my car is fixed, I have to leave. We both need to remember that, got it?”

  He nodded. “Got it.”

  Getting to his feet, he held out his hand to her. She smiled and pushed back her chair to stand up. She placed her hand in his and he linked his fingers through hers, and then stooped to pick up her bags for her. She felt like everyone was watching them, and a sense of pride swelled inside her that a guy like Ryker would hold her hand in public and carry her things. Pride in public was something she rarely experienced. Normally, she felt conscious of her size, of the rolls of fat spilling over her jeans, at the wobble in her upper arms when she waved, at every mouthful she ate while someone might be looking at her, judging her.

  For the first time in as long as she could remember Jenna Armstrong stood up straight, and walked from a restaurant on the arm of a man she could be proud of.

  Chapter Ten

  Ryker dumped her bags on the back seat while she climbed in the passenger side. The town had grown even busier during the time she’d spent in the coffee shop, and Main Street had been closed to traffic for the parade and other tomato-based celebrations.

  Jenna watched the preparations with skepticism as they drove through some of the smaller streets that still remained open. She couldn’t quite figure out what was so special about a vegetable—or was it fruit?

  “So, what’s the story behind the tomato fetish?” she asked, glancing over at him as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other arm resting in the open window.

  He chuckled. “I think it’s something along the lines of it being the first crop the initial settlers were able to grow here in Arlington. Ever since then, we’ve celebrated the crop that allowed my ancestors to stay here.”

  “So your family was all from Arlington as well?”

  “Yeah, we’re born and bred.”

  “And you haven’t wanted to leave?”

  He bit his lower lip and gave a slight shake of his head. “It wasn’t like I didn’t want to. I had plans to move to a big city, live a little. But then I had Mikey to take care of, so I forgot about my stupid plans.” He shrugged. “They didn’t mean anything, anyway.”

  She twisted in her seat to face him. “Of course they did! You sacrificed your youth for your brother. That means a lot.”

  He glanced over to her and grinned. “What do you mean, ‘sacrificed my youth?’ Is that your way of telling me I’m not young anymore?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Well, you must be pushing thirty.”

  He choked a laugh and reached out to playfully shove her thigh. She noticed his hand lingered on her leg. “Hey, I’ll be twenty-six next month. Nowhere near thirty.”

  She tried not to be totally distracted by his hand on her leg. The contact was sending sparks of electricity through her body.

  “I won’t make any comments about you aging badly, then,” she said, teasing him through her nerves.

  He glanced over again and winked. “Better than looking barely legal.”

  “Hey!” She laughed and slapped at his hand, but settled her palm over the top of his. The back of his hand felt big and strong beneath hers, the hairs on the back of his fingers tickling her palm. It took all her courage to leave her hand on his, and he made no attempt to move it himself. Instead, he glanced over at her and gave her that small, thoughtful smile.

  Within five minutes, they pulled up into a small driveway. Ryker took his hand back to put the truck into park, and she tried not to wilt in disappointment at the loss of contact.

  Jenna looked out of the window. Ryker’s house was a gray, wooden clad, two story home, with a garage and a porch out front. A bike stood, propped up against the outside wall. The yard was simple, with maintained lawns and a small flowerbed containing hydrangeas which added bursts of pink, blue and white to the place.

  Ryker slammed the truck door, making her jump. He headed to the back and grabbed her things.

  “Come on, then,” he called out to her. “What are you waiting for?”

  She had no idea. She gave him a smile and climbed from the truck, trying to quell the nerves roiling in her stomach. Two young men lived here alone, and her imagination was running wild. What if the place was a total mess and she freaked out as soon as she walked in the door? She imagined a sink full of dirty dishes, and a carpet that had never been vacuumed. Even thinking about the possibility of how filthy the bathroom might be made her dizzy.

  The front of the house appeared tidy enough—the lawns well-kept and the windows clean. She prayed that was a good sign.

  Jenna followed Ryker into the house. The entrance hall led to a staircase, both of which appeared clean and modern. A couple of doors led off the hall, and Ryker took her through one, and into the living room. The room was all cream walls and leather couches, and she couldn’t spot so much as a dirty mug left on the coffee table. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Mikey sat on the couch, staring at a handheld tablet. His feet were up on the coffee table—something Jenna tried not to focus on—but Ryker crossed the room and batted at Mikey’s shoes.

  “Hey,” Ryker said to his younger brother. “We’ve got a guest.”

  Mikey moved his feet off the table. He raised his chin in a nod of acknowledgment, without lifting his eyes from his tablet, and continued to play his game.

  Jenna glanced over at Ryker, but he just gave a shrug of apology and turned to head int
o the kitchen. Jenna followed him.

  “No school for Mikey today, then?” she said, making conversation as Ryker set about putting on some fresh coffee.

  “Nah, it’s Saturday!”

  “Oh, is it?” In her head, she calculated the days. With her lifestyle, she often lost track. Damn, so it was. Something occurred to her. “But if it’s Saturday, there’s no chance the parts for the car will come in tomorrow.”

  He kept his back to her, grabbing a couple of mugs from the cupboard as he spoke. “A courier might still deliver them tomorrow. It’s a twenty-four-seven world we live in now.”

  “Even so, there’s less chance, right?”

  “It’s out of our hands, so let’s just forget it and enjoy the day, okay?”

  But it wasn’t okay, not really.

  She didn’t want to press the subject. He was doing everything he could for her, and she didn’t want to appear like an ungrateful brat. There was one thing she needed to deal with, though, especially if she was going to sleep here.

  She needed to wash her bed sheets, as she didn’t want to contaminate Ryker’s bed with whatever germs the sheets might have picked up from the motel mattress, but she didn’t want to look like a freak. She weighed in her mind the embarrassment of asking to do laundry at his house, to not being able to sleep all night due to the image in her head of miniscule germs crawling all over her like parasites.

  The image won out.

  “I don’t want to be annoying, but do you mind if I do some laundry?” She hurried on, “I can always take it to the laundromat if it’s a problem.”

  “No problem. I can do it for you.”

  She put her hands on her ample hips. “Ryker Russo, I am not having you washing my undies.”

  “Really? Well, now I’m disappointed.”

  “I don’t need looking after.”

  He locked his eyes on hers. “What if I wanted to look after you?”

  Her heart hitched, but she said, “I need to be able to take care of myself. Now are you going to show me to your laundry room, or not?”

  He did a mock bow and waved his hand in a swirl. “This way, my lady.”

  Ryker showed her to the laundry room and thankfully left her to stuff her sheets and dirty laundry into the machine. She found some detergent and set the cycle on.

  He spoke from the doorway. “Now, how about you and I go and have some fun?”

  Fun? Fun wasn’t something she’d had in a long time—with the exception of the times she’d spent with Ryker recently.

  They left the truck parked outside Ryker’s house and walked into town. Most of the roads were closed to traffic now to accommodate the stalls and the procession that would take place later. Ryker had invited Mikey along, but he’d declined with only a wave of his hand. She couldn’t say she blamed him. Tomato-based activities wouldn’t be her first choice of entertainment either, but Ryker could have invited her along to a shit-throwing contest and she still would have gone.

  At first the town was relatively empty, but they soon reached the center and all of the people ready for a day of festivities began to fill the streets.

  Ryker led Jenna from stall to stall. Everything was tomato related—fried green tomatoes, different cheeses with spicy tomato chutney, even bloody marys were up for sale. Ryker insisted on stopping and sampling the produce of every stall.

  He held a piece of tomato, topped with mozzarella and basil to her mouth. Tentatively, she parted her lips and he pushed the piece of food between her teeth and onto her tongue. Self-consciously, she covered her mouth with her hand as she chewed, relishing the fresh and creamy taste. A piece of bruschetta was next, something else he fed to her, the toast crisp and delicious, the tomatoes juicy, sweet, and ripe.

  Juice dribbled down her chin, and she laughed and self-consciously wiped it away.

  “You’re going to think I’m an absolute pig eating this much.”

  That hint of a smile appeared on his lips again. “I like to see you eat. There’s something about a woman enjoying her food that makes me think her appetites stretch to other places as well.”

  “Is that right?”

  He stepped closer. “Plus, you have a beautiful mouth. You can’t blame me for enjoying putting things in it.”

  “Ryker!” Her cheeks flamed, and she glanced around to see if anyone had heard.

  Her eyes locked on a couple of young women, in their early twenties at the most, heading toward them. They both had the sort of figures she’d always envied, slender with small breasts that allowed them to wear the kind of strappy tops they had on now, without having to worry about the mammoth thick straps of the type of bra she had to wear. Both girls were brunettes, one with long hair falling around her shoulders, the other with a pixie crop that suited her delicate features.

  “Ryker, hey!” the girl with the long hair called, lifting her hand in a wave. “I wondered when you’d be getting here.”

  For a moment, the girl didn’t even seem to realize he and Jenna were standing together. She brushed Jenna aside to lean in and give Ryker a kiss on the cheek. Jenna glanced away, heat burning her face. Despite her size, she felt tiny, and not in a good way.

  “Hi, Ryker,” the girl with short hair chirped, looking at him from beneath her long lashes.

  “Hey, girls,” Ryker said. He reached out and took Jenna by the hand, making her look up. “Have you met Jenna yet? She’s in town for a few days.”

  Matching expressions of confusion floated across the girls’ features. They glanced at Jenna and then down to Jenna and Ryker’s joined hands, before exchanging a glance with each other.

  Seemingly oblivious of the tension, Ryker continued. “Jenna, this is Nikki and Megan,” he introduced the short-haired girl and the one with longer locks respectively.

  “I was hoping you’d be here,” Megan said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You want to grab a drink or something later?”

  He glanced at Jenna. “Oh, no, thanks. I’m with Jenna, so we’re kind of busy.”

  Jenna felt stupid. Of course he’d know people here. He’d lived in this town his whole life, had been to school here, and now ran a business. For some reason, the possibility of them bumping into past or even future girlfriends while they were walking around hadn’t occurred to her.

  Ryker tugged on her hand and pulled her away from the two girls.

  “Sorry about them,” he said, when they were far enough away for the girls not to hear. “They were a couple of years below me at school, and don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

  Something twisted inside her. Those were the type of girls Ryker should be hanging out with, not embarrassing himself on the arm of a big girl like her.

  “It’s fine if you want to go and meet them for a drink later,” she said, trying to make her voice light. “I’ll just hang out at the house.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would I do that?”

  “Uh, ’cause they obviously like you, and they’re kind of … you know … hot.”

  He snorted. “Yeah, and don’t they know it. Anyway, I’ve already got a hot girl sleeping in my bed tonight. Why the hell would I want to go anywhere near those two?”

  She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing, but not finding the words. He grinned and pulled on her hand, leading her through the throng of people.

  “Come on. The procession will be starting any minute now, and we’ll want to get a good spot. You’ll be amazed how many versions of a papier-mâché tomato people can come up with.”

  Jenna couldn’t help but laugh.

  They found a spot near the front of the crowds, people laughing, bustling and jostling behind her. Voices and music mingled, together with the scents of the numerous food stalls. Having Ryker by her side made her feel special, as if she were better than she was because he had chosen to be with her.

  Farther down the road, movement and music began to approach. Ryker gave her a nudge and nodded toward where the floats had begun to wi
nd their way down the street. Various trucks and tractors pulled giant sculpted tomatoes in different forms, all of which had scantily clad, pretty girls positioned upon them and holding on for dear life while still maintaining winning smiles.

  Through the crowds, Jenna’s eyes locked on a familiar cold, gray gaze.

  She felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over her, literally freezing the breath in her chest. She stumbled backward, bumping into the people behind her, blindly clutching for Ryker’s arm.

  He must have noticed something was up. “Jenna? What’s wrong?”

  He caught her hand and pulled her toward him, and she lost sight of the steel-like gaze that was so familiar and yet so frighteningly distant.

  “It’s him,” she said, her eyes filling with tears, her heart hammering. She peered over Ryker’s shoulder. “Garrett! He’s here.”

  Ryker turned in the direction she was looking. “Where?”

  “Just over there, beside one of the floats.”

  She looked frantically, but the gray eyes had vanished. She’d always believed that when this moment came and she saw him again, she would turn and run for her life, but instead she found herself pushing through the crowds, wishing she’d not lost sight of him. Ryker followed close behind, calling apologies to the people she shouldered out of her way.

  Garrett was nowhere to be found.

  “Damn it!”

  “Where is he?” Ryker asked.

  “I don’t know. He was just here! It’s like he’s vanished.”

  “He can’t just vanish. This town isn’t big enough for someone to vanish into.”

  “I know that!”

  Ryker shook his head and locked a hand in his hair, staring around. “Are you sure it was him? There’s a lot of people here.”

  “I’m sure.” But was she? “Oh, hell, I don’t know.” She rubbed at her eyes as if it would improve her sight. She’d only caught the briefest of glimpses—a second or two at the most, and only of his eyes. Yet, the recognition had been like a punch in the gut, and she’d been so certain in that moment. But now threads of doubt began to wind their way into her heart.