Backwoods (27 page)

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Authors: Jill Sorenson

BOOK: Backwoods
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Nathan tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Leo’s quick temper and cutting remarks weren’t so endearing. He seemed upset with Brooke, maybe for taking off her top. Nathan wasn’t sure if Leo understood that Brooke had disrobed out of fear and desperation, not by choice. Wyatt had been wrong to put her in that situation, and to force her to write his disturbing life story.

“You know it wasn’t her fault,” Nathan said.

“Yes.”

“She didn’t ask for it.”

“Jesus, Dad.”

“What?”

“No one
asks
to get terrorized at gunpoint.”

“I’m sure they don’t, but some people think girls who wear tight clothes or drink too much are asking for an attack.”

“Only assholes think that.”

Nathan was glad Leo wasn’t among them. He focused on the road, deciding not to pry. Leo’s feelings for Brooke were none of his business.

“I slept with her,” Leo said, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“You didn’t.”

“I did.”

Nathan shouldn’t have been thrown for a loop by this news. He’d seen them together. Brooke was beautiful. They were both hormonal teenagers. The real shock was that Leo had managed to keep his hands off her until this point.

“You don’t have to lecture me,” Leo said.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“It won’t happen again.”

No wonder he looked unhappy. “Okay.”

“I didn’t twist her arm, either.”

“I believe you.”

He stared out the window. “I should have said no.”

“It was her choice, too. Why are you taking all of the responsibility?”

“Because I have the penis?”

Nathan laughed, knowing exactly what he meant. Sometimes it seemed like the center of the universe, the nexus of all bad decisions.

“I don’t want to lose her,” Leo said, growing serious.

“Give it time, and be there for her. She’s been through a lot.”

Maybe this advice resonated with Leo, because he didn’t appear as melancholy. He fell silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. “I have to get my leg rechecked in a week. I should be able to go surfing after that.”

Nathan straightened in his seat. “Yeah?”

“I guess I could give you lesson.”

A smile broke across Nathan’s face. “I can drive up to L.A. next weekend.”

“Nah, I’ll come to your house. Mom says I can have my car back, and I know of a nice beginner spot in La Jolla.”

Nathan’s chest swelled with emotion. He couldn’t believe they were making plans to spend time together. A week ago, Leo hadn’t even accepted his calls. Now he was the one offering to visit. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll bring you a longboard,” Leo said generously. “It’s what old guys ride.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I
T
WAS
A
LONG
DRIVE
to San Diego.

Abby was concerned about Brooke, who slept most of the way home. After they arrived, she stayed up late, staring at the TV but not really watching anything. The next day, she started crying at breakfast and didn’t stop.

Abby hugged her and comforted her as much as possible. Brooke had always been emotional. She was demonstrative and dramatic, prone to short outbursts. It wasn’t typical for her to mope around in silence or dwell on negative things, but this wasn’t a typical situation. She’d survived a harrowing experience. Instead of trying to cheer her up, Abby encouraged her to talk about her feelings.

Ray used his connections to get her an appointment with the best psychologist in the area. Brooke went willingly and seemed to find the session helpful. Abby bought her a healthy lunch at her favorite juice bar. When they returned home, there was a delivery truck in the driveway. Someone had sent a simple sunflower bouquet.

The flowers were from Leo. Brooke read the card and burst into tears. Abby picked up the note to see what had upset her. It was a short message: “Hope you’re okay.” Frowning, she followed Brooke to her bedroom.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes.”

She opened the door and stepped inside. Brooke was sprawled across the bed, her face buried in pillows. Abby hadn’t changed the decor since Brooke had left for college. It was a colorful space, and fairly girly. Brooke had never been interested in frilly dresses or boy bands, but she liked stuffed animals and feminine colors. She’d gone through a unicorn phase when she was seven or eight. The figurines were still on her shelves.

Abby waited for Brooke’s smothered sobs to quiet. “I’ve been thinking about turning this room into an office.”

Brooke lifted her head. “What?”

“I’m kidding.”

She looked around at her belongings, almost as if she didn’t recognize them. “You can redecorate. It’s not a shrine.”

Abby wasn’t in a hurry to change things. They already had a spare bedroom that could double as an office. She didn’t want Brooke to feel like she couldn’t come back after college. She would always be welcome. “The flowers are nice.”

Brooke’s lower lip trembled.

Abby was beginning to suspect that some—maybe even most—of these tears were for Leo. Brooke wasn’t just traumatized, she was heartbroken. Abby sat down on the bed. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

The whole story spilled out. Brooke sobbed about begging Leo to sleep with her even though she knew he wanted to be just friends. Then he’d acted cold to her. She felt confused and guilty for kissing Wyatt.

Abby stroked her back, murmuring words of comfort.

“I’m so stupid,” Brooke wailed. “I thought I could make him love me.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Now it’s going to be awkward between us and he’ll hate me forever.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He sent you flowers.”

She made a muffled sound of despair.

“Have you talked to him?”

“I’ve been avoiding his calls.”

Abby understood why she would do that. She was hurt and embarrassed and...weepy. “He cares about you, Brooke. When boys don’t care, they don’t call.”

“Did Leo’s dad call you?”

“Yes,” Abby said after a pause.

Brooke rolled over, tucking one arm beneath her head. “Are you going out with him?”

“We haven’t made plans yet.”

“Why not?”

Abby was reluctant to leave Brooke alone at a time like this, and it would be insensitive to invite Nathan over. “He can wait.”

Brooke wiped her cheeks. “I want you to be happy, even when I’m not.”

Abby didn’t tell her that was impossible.

Instead of calling Nathan or Leo, they treated themselves to a girls’ afternoon out. They went to a matinee, strolled along the beach and visited the nail salon. After they came home, Brooke made plans for the weekend. She would spend Friday with her best friend, and then ride the train to Ella’s house on Saturday morning. Ray had promised to take her to a baseball game on Sunday afternoon.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Abby asked.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I want to hang out with friends and do normal things.”

Abby didn’t argue, although her first instinct was to keep Brooke home and hold her close. Being a caretaker was Abby’s default position, the easiest role for her to slip into. She was nervous about the prospect of seeing Nathan again. What if their chemistry had been fueled by adrenaline? What if her feelings weren’t real?

She spent the next few days agonizing over him, torn between fever dreams and anxious thoughts. They made a date for Friday night. The retirement center was only a few miles from his house, so she promised to meet him at a restaurant in his neighborhood. He sounded pleased, and the low pitch of his voice made her shiver with anticipation. She had to hang up before she blurted out an offer for phone sex.

The chemistry was still there, apparently.

On Friday afternoon, she got ready to leave the house. Although she’d planned to take the whole week off, there was some paperwork she wanted to take care of before the Monday rush. She fussed over her appearance, choosing a sleeveless summer dress with buttons down the front and high-heeled sandals. After a long deliberation, she pinned up her hair and added red lipstick. The sophisticated look would draw attention at the retirement center, but so what? Having a date after work wasn’t a crime.

She found a purse that matched her shoes and slipped the lipstick inside, along with a few essentials. Then she turned away from the mirror before she could decide to change again. Brooke and her friend were in the kitchen, making chocolate chip cookies. It was her favorite comfort treat.

“How do I look?” Abby asked them.

“Hot,” Stephanie said.

“Like a classy prostitute,” Brooke said.

Abby’s stomach fluttered with unease. “Is it too much?”

“No,” Brooke said. “It’s perfect.”

“I have to stop by work first,” she said, grabbing a light sweater. “I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

“Tomorrow, if you’re lucky.”

Abby said goodbye to the girls and headed out the door. Her “fancy” outfit sparked a few compliments from coworkers and at least one wolf whistle from a male resident. She hid in her office and tried to concentrate on the pile of paperwork. Thoughts of Nathan kept creeping in. About twenty minutes before she had to leave, she abandoned the task in favor of strolling the corridors. She enjoyed interacting with residents and making sure their needs were met. To her surprise, Nathan walked in the front door.

It was almost like seeing him for the first time. She was struck anew by his height and lean physique. He was ridiculously good-looking. Everything about him dazzled her, from his clean-shaven jaw and precise haircut to his casual clothes and strong forearms. He was holding a bouquet of flowers.

Like father, like son?

She came forward on unsteady legs, her heart hammering in her chest. When he caught sight of her, his eyes darkened. After a few seconds of studying her face, he skimmed her body with approval.

“You look nice,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Are those for me?” she asked.

He glanced at the flowers, as if he’d forgotten he had them. “Yes.”

“Thanks,” she said, accepting the bouquet. “My office is right here.”

He followed her in, watching while she put the flowers in a vase on her desk. It was a basic, no-frills space. She had a few small paintings on the walls and a photograph of Brooke winning a track medal.

“I thought we were meeting at the restaurant,” she said.

“I wanted to see where you work.”

Deviations from the plan usually made her anxious. Maybe he
was
a calming influence, because she didn’t mind. He’d taken a risk in coming here, and she was flattered by his interest. “I’ll show you around.”

They went on a brief tour of the facilities. She introduced him to some of the residents they passed along the way. When he met Mr. Papadakis, Nathan smiled and said, “I’ve heard a lot about you,” before shaking his hand.

Mr. Papadakis squinted at him. “Do I know you?”

“He’s a famous athlete,” Abby said. “Guess who?”

“Arnold Palmer,” Mr. Papadakis said.

Nathan laughed at this answer, not bothering to correct him. “Can you name my favorite drink?”

His rheumy eyes lit up. “Iced tea and lemonade.”

“You got it.”

Smiling, she guided Nathan down the hall and back to her office. She grabbed her purse, walking outside with him.

“Should I drive?” he asked.

“Sure.”

She didn’t care if her SUV stayed in the parking lot all night. He led her to his car and opened the passenger door for her. It was an expensive vehicle, but not flashy. He got behind the wheel and headed toward the coast. They were having dinner at a restaurant in Mission Bay. Traffic on the freeway was heavy, as usual.

“How’s Brooke doing?” he asked.

“Not too bad,” she said, giving a summary of the past few days. She didn’t mention Leo out of respect for Brooke’s privacy.

“And you?”

“No panic attacks, but I’ve had a few nightmares.”

“Of what?”

“Him,” she said, meaning Gary Nash. “His eyes.”

The federal agents she’d been in contact with had updated her on the case. Human remains had been found in one of the graves Wyatt had marked on the map. They were still looking for the other bodies. When all of the victims were located and identified, Gary Nash would be revealed as a serial killer, and the media would have a field day.

Abby was anxious about the aftermath. She didn’t want reporters hounding Brooke for an interview or coming to the house. Ray had said he would do everything in his power to keep her name out of the papers. He’d hired an attorney who specialized in victims’ rights. Abby wasn’t sure it was possible to prevent Brooke’s personal information from getting out, but she could always refuse to speak with the press.

Nathan reached across the console to hold her hand. The feel of his warm skin against hers was electric. She flushed at the memory of drawing his thumb into her mouth. Among other things. Dinner was going to be...interesting.

“The authorities haven’t been able to locate Wyatt’s relatives in Florida,” she said, releasing his hand. “He’s been placed in a group home for now. Brooke talked to him on the phone yesterday.”

Nathan changed lanes, glancing in his rearview mirror. “Really.”

“Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“I don’t know.”

“He left the trail of threads,” she reminded him.

“Why is she talking to him?”

Abby wasn’t sure. Brooke liked to live on the edge, and she thought Wyatt was sweet. She also might be feeling rejected by Leo. “She wants to be his friend, I guess. They’re both survivors. He doesn’t have anyone else.”

Nathan didn’t say anything more, though his concern for Brooke was clear. Abby appreciated the sentiment. She knew she worried too much. It was a relief to share some of the burden with him.

“How’s Leo?” she asked.

“Good,” he said, relaxing a little. “He’s coming to visit next weekend. I asked him to give me a surfing lesson.”

He looked so pleased with the prospect that her chest expanded with happiness for him. “That’s wonderful, Nathan.”

He smiled at her. “You and Brooke should join us.”

“No,” she said, reluctant to intrude.

“We could have lunch after, then.”

Again, she hesitated to accept. Brooke had called Leo to thank him for the flowers, and she seemed a lot less upset about their relationship. Even so, she might prefer taking a break from him to let her heart heal.

“You don’t want to make future plans?” he asked.

“That’s not it.”

“Good, because I’m ready to pencil you in for every spare moment.”

His tone was teasing, but the words made her giddy. Her desire for him had grown over the past few days. Their connection felt stronger than ever. She wouldn’t mind skipping dinner and driving straight to his place.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’m free all weekend,” she said. “I don’t have to go home tonight.”

His dark gaze cut to hers before returning to the road. “If you decide to stay, I’ll make it worth your while.”

She’d already decided, but she didn’t say so. Not that it was much of a secret. He’d encountered very little resistance from her so far. He knew he could have her again. What he didn’t seem sure of was where they were headed, beyond his bedroom. His attempts to pin her down for another date before this one had even started indicated that he wanted more than a night of uninterrupted sex.

They arrived at the restaurant and were seated on the outdoor patio, where they could watch sleek boats sail into the sunset over Mission Bay. Abby wasn’t too nervous to eat, and the food was delicious. She enjoyed Nathan’s company. He spent a lot of time staring at her, instead of their gorgeous surroundings.

“Do you want more children?” he asked, startling her.

She had to take a sip of water before answering the question. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about, impregnating me?”

“No. Well, not specifically.”

“Good.”

“I’ve been thinking about giving you everything you want,” he said in a lowered voice.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

Abby hadn’t thought about babies in years. It hadn’t seemed fair to bring a second child into the world when Ray wasn’t even there for Brooke. Since the divorce, it hadn’t been an issue. Casual relationships didn’t warrant this kind of conversation. She was surprised Nathan had brought it up so soon, but this wasn’t a typical first date. Their relationship was already serious. They’d been intimate. Maybe it was best to address the issue before she fell even more hopelessly in love with him.

“I’ve spent the past eighteen years taking care of Brooke,” she said. “When she went off to college, it was really hard for me to let her go. I’m sure it will be just as hard when she leaves this month. But I finally feel like I’m adjusting to the transition. I’m actually looking forward to focusing on myself.”

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