Melt (15 page)

Justin’s blood chilled with just one look into the man’s
wild black eyes. He was breathing hard, and his clothes looked askew.
Goddammit. “What the hell’s going on here? Where’s Mom?” Before his stepfather
could reply, Justin grabbed his shoulder and pushed him out of the way. He
stormed into the foyer and cast a glance around, expecting to see upended
furniture—or worse. So much worse.

Instead he glimpsed his mom hurrying down the hall. Her
tousled brown hair fell into her eyes while she yanked at her still partially
undone blouse. She fumbled the bottom two buttons into place and glanced up at
her son, revealing her smeared lipstick. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

All at once, he understood. His stepfather hadn’t been
beating his mom into unconsciousness. Oh no.

They’d been having sex.
Sex
,
for God’s sake. He’d walked out on Kylie during a volatile moment and hauled
her over to his mother’s house with him for no reason except he was a paranoid
maniac and clearly didn’t have a clue how to mind his own damn business.

He raked a hand through his hair and tossed a look at Kylie.
She still stood on the front stoop, her eyes cast toward the floor.

“I called, and no one answered.” He shut his eyes and willed
the tremor out of his voice. “And I assumed the worst.”

“Everything’s fine.” His stepfather sounded annoyed,
understandably so.

Except it wasn’t understandable. He’d been the fucker who’d
beat his own wife years ago. If that jerk touched her again, he’d kill him.

“Isn’t it, Tracy?” his stepfather boomed into the silence.
He waved Kylie inside and shut the door. “Tell your son it’s fine.”

“It’s fine, Justin.” She sounded infinitely tired as she
hustled over to place her cool hands on Justin’s forearms. He’d shoved up his
jacket sleeves while he waited on the porch, and her soft touch felt like a
balm on his overheated skin. “We were just taking a…break while dinner finished
up.” A ding from the kitchen made her smile. “See, that’s dinner now. You
should stay, since you’re here and all.”

Justin was already backing away. “No, thanks, Kylie and I
will just—”

“Kylie?” His mother stepped around him and brightened
instantly. “Well, hello, dear. I didn’t see you behind these big, strapping men.”

“Hello.” Kylie smiled weakly and rubbed her palm on her hip
before extending it to his mom. “I’m Kylie Fisher. I’d know you were Justin’s
mom anywhere. You look just like him.”

“Oh, do I?” Apparently surprised by this news, Tracy patted
her hair and slanted a look at her son. “He got a few more inches than I had to
give him, though.”

When Kylie blushed and didn’t say anything, Justin couldn’t
believe the smile that almost curved his lips. He so rarely smiled while in
this house that the mere possibility surprised him.

“So what do you say?” His mother twisted her fingers
together as if she were nervous. And not because of the gruff man who lurked
silently by the door. These nerves were due to her son’s unexpected visit on
the day of a family holiday, Justin was willing to bet.

Oh, the horrors.

More than anything, he wanted to get the hell out of there.
But Kylie’s big blue eyes reflected interest, and he wasn’t going to disappoint
her again today. Not if he could help it.

He extended an arm around Kylie’s shoulders and tugged her
against his side. She went as rigid as a board the moment he touched her, and
just like that, his lingering hopes that perhaps they could work out what had
happened between them at the cabin faded. She might be interested in a hot
turkey dinner, but that was all.

He’d well and truly fucked-up.

“Would you like to stay?” he asked.

Kylie nodded and reached down to clasp his hand. She held it
tight while she searched his gaze. “I would. I think getting to know your
parents is a lovely idea.” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “What
about you?”

What he wanted—to get his ass home and in bed before he
could do any more damage—didn’t seem to matter much. “We can stay,” he said
finally.

Kylie shoved back from the table wearing a huge grin she
sure didn’t feel. Even her distractingly warm bottom only highlighted how far
they’d come since that amazing session on Justin’s counter. “Thank you. This
was wonderful.”

“Oh, but don’t you want another piece of pie?” Mrs. Norton
rose and gestured toward the kitchen. As big as the dining room was, the house
had a warm, intimate feel that Kylie loved. “We barely dug into the pumpkin,
and you loved the lemon meringue one so much. Have another. Please.”

Kylie dabbed her mouth with the napkin and swung a quick
look at Justin. He was pushing the crust from his slice of pumpkin around his
plate and not looking at any of them.

Throughout the meal, he’d been pleasant enough—replying when
spoken to, laughing at appropriate moments, even occasionally making inquiries
of his own. But there was no denying the tension that hung thickly over the
table, even more weighty than the whipped-cream-laden pies Mrs. Norton had
delighted in setting out in the center.

He didn’t want to be there, and considering his past with
his stepfather, she didn’t altogether blame him. Justin was an honest guy down
to the core, and to him, sitting there and breaking bread like a family
probably felt like a lie. She just wished he could see his mother and
stepfather the way she did, as an observer. They were happy together, their own
little family. Justin felt like an intruder because he didn’t know how to
accept that, not because he wasn’t wanted.

And yep, she’d been playing pop psychologist way too long at
the bar if she was getting all that from just a simple Thanksgiving dinner.

“Oh, I’m stuffed, thanks,” she murmured, realizing she’d
never answered Mrs. Norton’s question.

Truth was, she could’ve happily inhaled another slice of
pie, despite the fact that she’d already had two. Justin’s mom was a fabulous
cook, and she’d really enjoyed the meal, tension aside. It was nice to get to
know more about Justin from his mom, even if he’d barely commented most of the
times Mrs. Norton had remarked upon incidents from his childhood. Either he
didn’t want to go there period or he didn’t want to go there with Kylie
present. He probably figured she’d get the wrong idea about them having dinner
at his parents.

First he’d spanked her, and then she’d shared the family
turkey. Matching china patterns had to be next, right? Even if this morning it
had seemed as if he’d happily push them in that direction, tonight, post
spanking, they’d entered a whole new realm.

Kylie rubbed her sore temples. Jesus, men were so fucking
complicated.

“Are you okay, dear? Would you like an aspirin?”

“I’m fine.” She offered Mrs. Norton a strained smile, well
aware of the fact that Justin hadn’t chimed in with his concern. He’d pretty
much made a career out of brooding at his plate. Between him and his
stepfather, yet another gruff, mostly silent male, they made quite the pair.

But that wasn’t what Justin was really like at all. He’d
never been like this before, not in college and not during the many hours
they’d spent together at the bar. The new facets she’d seen of her steady,
understanding friend the last couple of days were revelations—some amazing,
some painful. Either way, she had a lot more to learn about Justin Norton. And
vice freaking versa, if he believed she’d cry and cringe away from him because
he’d given her exactly what they both needed during sex.

If that was even what his pulling away had been about. She
wasn’t so sure about anything anymore.

“Let me help,” she suggested as Justin’s parents began
clearing the table. Though Mr. Norton didn’t say much, he certainly hustled to
help his wife cart away dishes.

“No, no, you’re a guest. Sit. Relax.” Mrs. Norton balanced a
pie tin in the crook of her arm and smiled at Justin, who was looking anywhere
but at her. “We have new puppies. You’ll want to see them before you go.”

“Puppies?” Kylie grinned and bumped her leg against
Justin’s. He barely cracked a smile. It stunned her how much she wanted to find
a way to make him happy again. “Let’s go look, Justin. Please.”

She half expected him to brush her off, but he nodded and
set down his fork. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and rolled his shoulders,
seemingly steeling himself for whatever was to come. “It’s getting late, so we
probably should head out now.”

His mother paused in the doorway and bobbed her head. She’d
probably guessed that Justin wanted to book it out of there, judging from her
resigned expression. “Sure thing. The dogs are downstairs in the basement. I’ll
show you.”

“That’s all right, Mom. I remember the way.” Justin stood
and collected both his plate and Kylie’s. “Let me help you with these and—”

“No, just leave them.” Mrs. Norton stared at Justin, her
eyes strangely bright. “Happy Thanksgiving, both of you. It was lovely meeting
you, Kylie. I really hope to see you again.”

Before Kylie could figure out how to speak over the lump in
her throat, Mrs. Norton had fled up the hall. Her husband murmured similar
sentiments and followed.

Holy awkward.

Justin cleared his throat and held out his hand. “Let’s go see
the puppies.”

Chest tight, Kylie gazed up at him. God, she ached to give
him a hug. She hated the bruised look of his eyes. Deep down inside he was
still that little boy who feared for his mother, and she wished she could take
his worry away.

Better than anyone, she knew she couldn’t. They both had
their own messes to clean up, and sometimes there wasn’t anyone else to do the
heavy lifting.

“Let’s go,” she echoed instead of everything else she
yearned to say. Like that it was the wrong time for them to try to make a go of
it, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. That she got why he was afraid of
hurting her. That he hadn’t. He wouldn’t.

Though she couldn’t state that for sure. He’d never harm her
intentionally, she knew that much. Still, there were no guarantees, for either
of them.

Together they walked through the house to the basement. The
open floor plan helped show off the bits of Christmas cheer scattered
throughout, and the charmingly worn furniture spoke of years of use. She wished
she could stop to examine the quilted throw on the back of the couch—now she
knew where Justin had gotten his—and the framed pictures that lined the
hallway, yet she forced herself to keep up with Justin. Evidently he needed to
get out of there quick, and she wasn’t about to stop him.

The expansive basement had been turned into a huge doggy
playroom. There were six of them, four puppies and two older German shepherds
Kylie assumed were their parents. They were regal, exuberant dogs with tons of
energy, and by the time they left, she was laughing—and covered with
silver-tipped, black fur. Even Justin smiled a few times as he cuddled one of
the pups with a shiny blue dog tag that proclaimed his name was Gonzo.

“I want one of them,” Kylie said to Justin as they walked
out to his Jeep almost an hour later. He kept pace beside her, accommodating
her reduced speed due to her achy ankle. “They’re so dang cute.”

On the way out she’d run back upstairs to say thanks again
to Justin’s parents, and he’d gone up to say his own good-byes once she
returned. He obviously didn’t want her to be privy to his family discussions,
which was fine. Or it would be, once she stopped getting her
wittle
feelings hurt.

“I saw you snuggling with Penny.” He unlocked the doors with
the remote and held open the passenger door for her. “If you want, I’ll make
sure Mom doesn’t sell her until you get settled,” he added as she slid into her
seat.

For a minute, she allowed herself to get excited at the
idea. She could find her own cute place, one where they’d let her have a dog.
Nothing fancy, just somewhere she could start over. One with room for a nice
big bed for—

The sound of the door shutting made her jump. Nice big bed
for who, exactly? She intended to take it slow with Justin, if he even wanted
to take it at all anymore after their kitchen encounter.

“Friends can still sleep together,” she muttered.

And play with sex
toys, and spank each other…

The drive back to his house wasn’t much more chatty than the
drive to his parents’ had been. Thanks to the big meal and the tryptophan from
the turkey, she couldn’t seem to keep her eyes open. Kinda sucked really, since
she’d found such a great worrying-about-everything groove.

Yeah, sleeping sounded way better.

Justin pulled into his drive and turned off the vehicle.
Even before he spoke, she sensed his tension. “I’ll make up the guest room for
you tonight.” While she stared at him openmouthed, he scratched the back of his
neck. “Unless you’d prefer to stay with a friend. If you’d rather, I could
drive you to—”

“What the hell, Justin?” Before she could temper the
impulse, she hauled back and punched him in the arm.

He barely flinched. “I’d ask what that was for, but I think
I know.”

“You don’t know anything. You just think you do.” Beyond
irate, she crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s Thanksgiving. If I had any
friends I could call, don’t you think I would’ve already?”

“You called me.”

“Yeah, I did. You were the only person I thought of running
to. Maybe that means I’m repeating old patterns or something equally psychobabble-
ish
, or that I’m trading one tumultuous relationship for
another. I didn’t care. You seemed so safe.”

He tightened his fingers around the wheel. “Safe. Right.”

She reached out to place her hand on his thigh, and he shot
his gaze to hers. “If you believe nothing else I say, believe this: I know you
would never intentionally cause me harm.
I
know that, Justin. The problem is you don’t.”